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 COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
Tn Old South l)aaky 
 
 By Sophie E. Eastman 
 
 // so men's memories not thy monument be, 
 Thou shah hate none. Warm hearts. 
 And not cold stone must mar\ thy grace, 
 Or thou shah lie unknown. 
 
 — John Vance Cheney, 
 
 The Blakely Printing Company, Chicago 
 

 Copyright, 1912, 
 
 By 
 
 SOPHIE E. EASTMAN 
 
 
To my sister, who has been my help 
 and inspiration in collecting materials 
 for the present volume, and whose pa- 
 tient research has made possible the 
 verification of its facts, this book '* 
 affectionately dedicated. 
 
 For the assistance rendered by Mr. 
 A. W. Fiske, and other kind friends, in 
 looking up ancient records and in re- 
 calling past events, they merit and re- 
 ceive my sincere gratitude. 
 
'y '///5 volume does not assume to be, in any 
 sense, a history. The author has merely 
 tried to gather up and preserve some of the facts 
 and incidents connected with the Early Life of our 
 town. This information was derived, in a great 
 measure, from old Letters and Diaries; Account 
 Booths ranging from 1732 to 1820; Town, Church 
 and State Records; Ancient Deeds, IV ills and 
 Inventories, and the too-often-forgotten Proprie- 
 tor's Book.. 
 
 The truth of every statement has been care- 
 fully sifted, and some old manuscripts recently 
 brought to light have yielded new and interesting 
 facts. It is a matter of regret that many items 
 which might have been of interest have necessarily 
 been omitted for the lack of space. 
 
CHAPTER INDEX 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAPTER FIRST 
 
 The Origin of the Town 1 
 
 CHAPTER SECOND 
 Early Life in South Hadley 21 
 
 CHAPTER THIRD 
 Early Life in South Hadley (Concluded) 35 
 
 CHAPTER FOURTH 
 From Dame School to College 48 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTH 
 From Dame School to College (Concluded) 70 
 
 CHAPTER SIXTH 
 The Evolution of a Church 94 
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTH 
 The Indians 121 
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTH 
 South Hadley in the Revolution 136 
 
 CHAPTER NINTH 
 South Hadley After the Revolution 165 
 
 CHAPTER TENTH 
 In the Chimney Comer 186 
 
 CHAPTER ELEVENTH 
 South Hadley Falls 201 
 
INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 South Hadley in 1750 Frontispiece-- 
 
 The Angel of Hadley, 1675 6 '^ . 
 
 In the Bow of Stony Brook 10 " 
 
 Present View from "Bare Hill" 12 
 
 Husking for a Neighbor 18 
 
 "The Place of General Resort" 22 
 
 The Noontide Meal 26 
 
 Reading the Bible to the Haymakers 28 
 
 The Gay lord Library 32 ^ 
 
 The Pump 38 
 
 The Old Oaken Bucket 40 ^ 
 
 The Rudiments of Arithmetic 50 ', 
 
 Teaching Arithmetic 54 ^ 
 
 Woodbridge School 70 "^ 
 
 Autograph of Mary Lyon 76 
 
 Third Parsonage 78 
 
 Prospect Hill 82 ' 
 
 Mt. Holyoke Seminary, the Original Building 84 
 
 The Domestic Hall 86 
 
 Seminary and College Building, Destroyed by Fire, September, 1896 88 
 
 Mary Lyon's Grave 92 " 
 
 The First Parsonage 96 ' 
 
 Rev. John Woodbridge 108 
 
 Brick Oven 110 
 
 Second Meeting House 116 '^ 
 
 Third Meeting House 118 
 
 The Oxbow 122 '^ 
 
 Island in the Connecticut 124 
 
 The Granby Church 128 '" 
 
 The Drive 134 " 
 
 Col. Ruggles Woodbridge 140 '^ 
 
 The Second Parsonage 146 
 
 Lake Nonotuck, South Hadley 154 
 
 The Grove 164 
 
 South Hadley in 1850 170 
 
 Doctor D wight's House 176 
 
 College Street 180 ^ 
 
 Fourth Meeting House, Destroyed by Fire, 1895 184 ^ 
 
 Perry at the foot of Mount Holyoke 188 
 
 The First Meeting House, Now Used as a Dwelling 190 
 
 The First Mountain House on Mount Holyoke 194 
 
 "The Old Sleigh" 1S6 ' 
 
 Pass of Thermopylae 198 '' 
 
 The Franklin Stove 198 ^ 
 
 Drawing in the Back-log 200 ' 
 
 The Canal Village 202 */- 
 
 Decoration Day at South Hadley Falls 220 
 
 The Present Million-Dollar Dam, 214 "^ 
 
 The Carew Mill 216 "^ 
 
 v/ 
 
IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 BY SOPHIE E. EASTMAN 
 
 CHAPTER FIRST 
 
 THE OKIGIN OF THE TOWN 
 
 CAESAR'S reply, when questioned in regard to Ms lineage, 
 "I commence an ancestry," might well have been echoed 
 by the pioneers of Hadley. Most of them were fugitives 
 from England, fleeing to this country in order to escape the 
 persecution of Archbishojo Laud. They had seen their friends 
 imprisoned and publicly whipped in the market-place simply 
 for seeking a higher standard of purity in the church. 
 
 Part of them came in 1632 in the good ship Lyon. They 
 were four weeks in fighting their way from London to Lands 
 End, and two months more in crossing the stormy Atlantic. 
 For five days they were enveloped in a dense fog, not daring 
 to move in either direction; a weary time for the sixteen chil- 
 dren and their seventy-three elders, who clustered despairingly 
 about the deck. But happily they escaped disaster. The most 
 notable among the passengers was William Goodwin, a man 
 destined to become of such influence in both church and state 
 that the town still delights to do him honor. 
 
 During the following year more of Hadley 's early settlers 
 came over in the Griffin, and the tedium of the two months ' voy- 
 age was beguiled by listening to one hundred and twenty ser- 
 mons, two being preached on each week-day and three on Sun- 
 day. 
 
 Among the passengers were three divines, eminent both 
 for learning and piety — the Rev. John Cotton, Thomas Hooker, 
 and Samuel Stone. Only the latter, however, dared to show 
 himself on deck until they were well out at sea. 
 
 The sailors did not enjoy this constant sermonizing, and 
 
2 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 sneeringly asked, "Wlien shall we come to ye Holie Land?" 
 And when the ministers sought to buy provisions, they replied, 
 "Ye are so full of the spirit, ye need nothing more." 
 
 But religion was not the only topic on which they con- 
 versed. In the joy of escape they became even himiorous, and 
 actually ventured upon a witticism in regard to the three min- 
 isters on board. A hooker was a small fishing boat still in use at 
 the Orkneys, and some facetious passenger gave out that they 
 were well provided for, having Cotton for their clothing. Stone 
 for their building, and a Hooker for their fishing. 
 
 A majority of the company settled at Cambridge, then 
 called New Town, but two years later jealousies and animosities 
 sprang up between this place and Boston, and under the slender 
 pretext that they were straitened for want of land, they asked 
 of the General Court permission to remove to Hartford, Conn. 
 
 On May 31, 1636, fivescore persons, including Eev. Thomas 
 Hooker and Rev. Samuel Stone, set forth on their perilous jour- 
 ney through pathless woods, with only a compass and a few ob- 
 scure Indian trails to guide them. 
 
 In Hartford and adjoining towns they soon foimd homes, 
 and for many years lived peacefully and prosperously. So close 
 was the friendship between William Goodwin and the Eev. Mr. 
 Stone that both before and after this journey their houses were 
 built side by side. But after the death of Mr. Hooker, Mr. Good- 
 win and his pastor became alienated and even embittered against 
 one another. Nearly all of the Massachusetts Colonists were 
 church members and their children had been baptized into the 
 same faith. Some of their sons had grown to manhood without 
 making a public profession of religion, though leading exem- 
 plary lives. These persons found themselves deprived of the 
 right to vote in town meeting, denied the ordinance of baptism 
 for their children, and debarred from having any voice in the 
 selection of a minister. This roused their indignation, and a 
 great wave of dissatisfaction arose in the Hartford Church, 
 spreading in ever widening ripples until the whole country was 
 a sea of discontent. Some even went so far as to propose that 
 all men whose lives were of good report should be allowed to 
 
THE ORIGIN" OF THE TOWN 3 
 
 partake of the commuuion. Councils were held, but nothing de- 
 cisive was accomplished. 
 
 Elder Goodwin bitterly opposed the agitation of this ques- 
 tion. It seemed to him like breaking down the gates into the 
 fold, and a large minority of the church sympathized with him. 
 Not so the pastor, Eev. Mr. Stone. He had always been less 
 rigid in his views than many of his brethren, and had often dis- 
 turbed good Mr. Hooker by his habit of smoking, his liberal ideas 
 of orthodoxy, and other such matters. So now he gave his hearty 
 assent to the Halfway Covenant, as it was termed, which had 
 been approved by the council at Boston in 1657. This council 
 decreed that non-church members who owned the covenant, and 
 had nothing scandalous in their lives, should not be denied the 
 rite of baptism for their children; but this did not give them 
 the privilege of partaking of the Lord's Supper. 
 
 The intrusion of this article of belief among the inhabitants 
 of South Hadley, about eighty years later, was the occasion of 
 a violent religious quarrel, rending the church, and ending in 
 the expulsion of the town's first minister, Rev. Grindal Rawson. 
 Feeling ran so high that Elder Goodwin determined to with- 
 draw, with his followers, from the Hartford Church, and to re- 
 turn to what he called "Ye pious and Godly government of 
 Massachusetts Bay." 
 
 Eev. John Russell, of Wethersfield, and most of his congre- 
 gation, were in unison with Mr. Goodwin, and joined in his plan 
 of removal to Norwottuck, the present town of Hadley. Of 
 the pilgrimage thither, we know but little ; we hear of an accom- 
 plished journey, but none of its details. Yet it must have been 
 an arduous undertaking. It may be that by day the October 
 sunshine filtered through the crimson and golden leaves, mak- 
 ing a glory about their heads ; but the nights were chill, and the 
 bear, the wolf, and the catamount were always out watching 
 for their prey in the far-reaching forests. 
 
 No sooner had they arrived at their destination than the 
 woods rang with the sound of their axes, and the work of build- 
 ing went rapidly on. 
 
 The history of Hadley from this time onward has been so 
 
4 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 minutely and accurately told by the late Sylvester Judd that no 
 other hand is needed to bridge the gulf between the centuries. 
 
 One incident that he relates finds confirmation among the 
 descendants of Lieut. Samuel Smith, Peter Tilton, Timothy 
 Nash, Nathaniel Dickinson, and Elder John White. Many of 
 their descendants are still living in South Hadley and Granby, 
 and five of them have made affidavit in the presence of a Notary 
 Public to the fact that the following story had been handed down 
 in their families, from father to son, for over two hundred years. 
 
 Few events in the history of Hadley have excited such uni- 
 versal interest as the long concealment of the regicides by Eev. 
 John Eussell, assisted by Lieut. Samuel Smith and the Hon. 
 Peter Tilton, and the unlooked-for aid of General Goffe in 
 repelling an Indian attack. The story is too widely known to 
 need more than a brief repetition. 
 
 General Wlialley and his son-in-law. General Goffe, were 
 two of the judges who had condemned Charles I of England to 
 death. Upon the accession of his son to the throne, a price was 
 set upon their heads, and they were obliged to flee to America. 
 Here, being closely pursued, they were compelled to hide in 
 cave, ravine or forest, finally finding a refuge in a well-con- 
 trived chamber in the minister's house at Hadley. 
 
 Some of the carpenters of that day had evidently learned, 
 during the persecutions in England, the art of concealment, for 
 this room gave access to the cellar, probably by means of a slid- 
 ing panel, such as was found in demolishing an old house in an- 
 other part of the town, and which dated back to the same period. 
 
 During King Philip's war, the towns which lay upon the 
 outskirts of civilization were in constant and extreme danger 
 from roving bands of Indians. Hadley was peculiarly defence- 
 less, not only as a frontier town, but because the Connecticut 
 Biver afforded such a swift and silent path of approach for 
 Indian canoes. Each day seemed a terror, each night a men- 
 ace, and the "Holy text of pike and gun" was in all minds. 
 
 The story of General Goffe's appearance was often re- 
 lated to a resident of South Hadley by her grandmother, just as it 
 had been told to the latter by her grandfather, Nathaniel Dick- 
 
THE ORIGIN" OF THE TOWN 5 
 
 inson, wLio was living at the time the incident occurred. Al- 
 though but a boy, the fact that his father was slain by the In- 
 dians at about the same time may have impressed the events 
 of the year upon his memory. 
 
 The minister at Hadley, recognizing the great danger to 
 be apprehended from Indian invasion, had appointed a day of 
 fasting and prayer, and on this occasion every member of Mr. 
 Kussell's household, excepting the two regicides, attended divine 
 sei'vice at the meeting-house. This left the two voluntary cap- 
 tives at liberty to roam about the house at pleasure and look 
 from the windows. General Goffe, noting the approach of the 
 Indians, hastily descended to the street. Two courses lay open 
 before him ; he would risk discovery if he showed himself in the 
 town, and the English government was still searching for him, 
 but, on the other hand, if the settlers were overpowered, pil- 
 lage, fire, and massacre were sure to follow. 
 
 The Hadley men had no leader and were beginning to waver 
 before the onslaught of their savage foes, when Goffe, with a 
 roar like that of a wild beast, placed himself in the front ranks. 
 Perhaps the old-time vigor came back for a moment; at all 
 events, he rallied the men and charged the Indians with such 
 power and skill that they were soon in full retreat. During 
 the pursuit, Goffe quietly slipped aside and, returning to the 
 house of Mr. Eussell, became again a self-immured prisoner. 
 
 There was much questioning after the battle as to the iden- 
 tity of their unexpected ally. The paleness engendered by years 
 of confinement, and perhaps the long and snowy beard (for 
 smooth faces were then coming into vogue), evidently suggested 
 to some imaginative mind the idea that the strange visitor was 
 of supernatural origin. It was not until after William ascended 
 the throne of England, and the search for the regicides ceased, 
 that it was considered safe to make known the real facts in the 
 case. 
 
 Some modern iconoclasts have tried to wrest this incident 
 from the pages of history, but with little siaccess, and genera- 
 tions yet unborn will repeat to their children, and children's 
 children, the story of Goffe, the Angel who Saved the Town. 
 
6 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 The early settlement of South Hadley may be attributed 
 to the energy, courage, and perseverance of six persons — Peter, 
 William and Luke Montague, Chileab Smith, Jr., John Pres- 
 ton, and Ebenezer Marsh. 
 
 These men were linked together, not merely by the ties of 
 kindred, but by a common hope and ambition, and the history of 
 their enterprise should be preserved in picture, song, and story, 
 as long as the town endures. 
 
 Seventeen himdred came and went without finding, it was 
 said, a single pauper in the whole Connecticut Valley. But a 
 vague spirit of unrest had begun to creep into the quiet town 
 of Hadley. It gathered strength as the years went on, till we 
 find it recorded that the young people complained of being 
 straitened for the want of room. Now, surrounded as they 
 were with the vast areas of unmapped country, and in a vil- 
 lage where many a family owned hundreds of acres of untilled 
 lan(^, their discontent must have referred to the crowded state 
 of their households — too many families in one dwelling being 
 the rule. 
 
 Thus, John Preston, Sr., married one of four sisters, each of 
 whom brought her husband home to live under the paternal 
 roof. And the children of William Montague, whose relatives 
 were among the richest people of the town, lived in the same 
 house with their uncles, aunts, and cousin, to say nothing of 
 their father, mother, and grandparents. 
 
 In order to remedy this difficulty, and possibly to gratify 
 their spirit of adventure, certain men in the community re- 
 solved to colonize south of Mount Holyoke. 
 
 The proposal aroused a fine commotion in the town. Peo- 
 ple shook their heads and declared that those sandy slopes and 
 wooded intervales were incapable of cultivation, generally end- 
 ing with the cheerful forecast that their families would cer- 
 tainly starve. The old folks, with tears in their eyes, begged 
 them to give up their mad plan. But nothing daunted their 
 courage, for already the very air seemed to be electric with 
 the coming possibilities of the new town. 
 
THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN 7 
 
 Tradition tells us that at last a town meeting was called, 
 from which was wrung a reluctant consent to the exodus. But, 
 be this as it may, we know that in the spring of 1720, a day of 
 fasting and prayer was appointed from the pulpit, in order to 
 implore the Divine Blessing upon this hazardous undertaking. 
 
 Others, outside the list of names previously mentioned, had 
 at first joined in the enterprise, but without a just estimate of 
 the danger, privation, and incessant labor that the task involved. 
 
 First of all, roads must be located, and witliin their boun- 
 daries trees must be felled and stumps uprooted, in order to 
 open even the roughest kind of a cart-track. After the site of 
 a house had been decided upon, ground must be cleared in order 
 to give space for working and for the tent which would be their 
 only shelter until the roof was covered with shingles, which lat- 
 ter must be made by hand. Their tools were clumsy and often 
 dull, yet no scamping of their work was tolerated. 
 
 If the half-dozen men, who remained true to their purpose, 
 needed a Nestor, they certainly found one in the person of 
 Chileab Smith, Sr., since three of their number were his grand- 
 sons, a fourth was his son, the fifth his granddaughter's hus- 
 band, and the sixth a brother of his son's wife. 
 
 The great event of 1720 in Hadley was the laying out of 
 home lots south of Mt. Holyoke. For several years this mat- 
 ter had been under discussion without reaching any definite 
 result. 
 
 The winter of 1717 had been one of imexampled severity. 
 Noah Webster has stated that at this time there were snow- 
 drifts from sixteen to eighteen feet deep, so that in order to 
 leave their houses some persons were compelled to put on snow 
 shoes and climb out of the second story windows. 
 
 This fact may have deferred the enterprise, but three years 
 later there still remained a resolute purpose to — as the old 
 records express it — "make a village, or precinct, behind the 
 mountain." In February of 1720 a town meeting was called 
 and a committee appointed who should lay out one thousand 
 acres of the best farming land to be found there. 
 
 Their report included nine divisions of land. The first of 
 
8 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 these, possibly in continuance of its Indian name, was called 
 Leaping Well. It contained four home lots, number one being 
 chosen by Nathaniel Ingram, whose descendants retained pos- 
 session of it for more than a century and a half. 
 
 The second division was called "North of Stony Brook." 
 It consisted of nine home lots, and lay upon the west side of 
 College street, beginning near the residence of I. N. Day and 
 extending northerly nearly, or quite, to the schoolhouse grounds. 
 The latter place was at this time part of a highway ten rods 
 wide, which, beginning at the schoolhouse, extended westerly 
 down the slope of the hill till at the foot of the ravine it turned, 
 running northward to Hadley street. This road formed part 
 of the main thoroughfare from Springfield to Hadley, since 
 the cross street in front of J. S. Preston's house had not then 
 been opened. 
 
 About thirty rods southwest of the post office was a quag- 
 mire, and the whole section was spoken of in the ancient rec- 
 ords as "The Gutter, or Lubber's Hole." 
 
 Tradition gives us this account of the manner in which it 
 gained its name, though two centuries have so changed the 
 conformation of the groimd that the story loses much of its 
 significance. Three very fleshy men, so the old folks say, were 
 once journej'ing from Springfield to Hadley. They traveled 
 in company, partly for the sake of sociability, but chiefly as a 
 means )of mutual protection against wild animals. One of 
 the number, who had been partaking too freely of old New 
 England rum, wandered from the road and ended by falling 
 into the quagmire. Owing to his great weight and half-intoxi- 
 cated condition, it was almost impossible to extricate him. The 
 definition of a lubber was "a heavy, clumsy fellow," and this 
 incident fixed the name of Lubber's Hole upon a region that 
 has always been noted for the industry and enterprise of its 
 citizens. 
 
 Many of these early names were given in recognition of 
 some supposed characteristic. Misery Swamp, near the Slipe, 
 was tenanted by wolves, who made night hideous with their dis- 
 mal howling. Bare Hill (now Prospect) was almost wholly 
 
THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN 9 
 
 destitute of vegetation, while Bear Mountain was the favorite 
 haunt of Sir Bruin. Cold Hill is still swept by the chilly north- 
 westers that led to its early name, and Buttery Brook, too, 
 has a little story of its own. 
 
 A buttery at first denoted a place where butter was kept, 
 but in process of time its signification broadened, and it came 
 to be synonymous with pantry, a place where food was stored. 
 In those days it was customary, when a deer was killed in spring- 
 time or during the summer, to separate the flesh from the bones, 
 the former being, to quote from J. G. Holland, "stored in a 
 spring whose water, summer and winter alike, was almost at 
 freezing point." This particular location in South Hadley 
 Falls was recorded in 1720 as "Markham's Buttery," so named, 
 probably, in honor of William Markham of Hadley, a son-in- 
 law of Governor John Webster. He may have been an unus- 
 ually successful hunter and one who shared generously the prod- 
 ucts of his skill, for thirty years after he had gone upon his 
 last journey the Proprietor's Book still speaks of Markham's 
 Buttery. 
 
 The third division of land was called "North of Lubber's 
 Hole." It contained eighteen home lots, one of which (a part 
 of the Eastman homestead, now owned by J. A. Skinner) was 
 set aside for, as the records says, "The first well larnt, ortho- 
 dox minister as shall settle south of Mt. Holyoke." This divi- 
 sion began upon the west side of Woodbridge street, near the 
 foot of Mrs. Hollingsworth's garden, and extended northward 
 to the house owned by Hinsdale Smith. 
 
 These lots were, as the committee reported, curiously 
 shaped, "something triangular at the rear of them, and each 
 one of them longest upon the southerly side." 
 
 The Wliite family chose their lots near the site now owned 
 by A. S. Kinney, and by purchase eventually obtained the whole 
 of this division. 
 
 "The fourth division, west of Stony Brook," comprised 
 twenty-eight home lots upon the east side of College, Wood- 
 bridge and Amherst streets, beginning near the Perkins Mill 
 and reaching almost to Bittersweet Lane. It provided also for 
 
10 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 a highway, eight rods wide, to be located a little below the pres- 
 ent Morgan street. The land which formed the original Sem- 
 inary Campus was chosen by William Murray and Peter Mon- 
 tague, Jr. 
 
 The fifth division, "north of Peachawomiche Eoad," be- 
 gan at nearly the same point where the fourth ended, and ex- 
 tended northerly to Bachelor's Brook. The land of Samuel Por- 
 ter, who had drawn home lot number sixty-four, included both 
 sides of Amherst street, that highway not being laid out until 
 a dozen years later, when it was so narrow it was known only 
 as Hubbard's Path, which followed the old Indian trail from 
 the Notch to Cold Hill. 
 
 The sixth division consisted of twenty-seven lots upon the 
 western side of Cold Hill, eight of these being chosen by as 
 many individual Smiths. 
 
 In the seventh division, "east of Cold Hill," were fourteen 
 lots, from which three more Smith families and six Dickinsons 
 chose their homes. 
 
 The eighth division lay "east of Bare Hill, in the bow of 
 Stony Brook." Here the leading owners were the KeUoggs, 
 who retained a part of this land imtil 1909. 
 
 The ninth and last division was ' ' south of Bare Hill, ' ' near 
 the Preston homestead. 
 
 The distribution of these one thousand acres of land was 
 effected in a somewhat singular manner. There were at this 
 time one hundred and seventeen proprietors holding taxable 
 property within the limits of Hadley, and it was voted that 
 the size of each person's home lot should be in proportion to his 
 ratable estate. In consequence of this provision, and of the 
 fact that the lots were laid out from a quarter to a half mile 
 in depth, it came about that while the rich men had a frontage 
 on the street of from three hundred to seven hundred feet, the 
 unfortunate owner of lot number seventy-five found himself pos- 
 sessed of a long strip of land only six feet, two and one-fourth 
 inches in width. 
 
 The method of determining the order in which each pro- 
 prietor should make choice of his land was by "the lot." A 
 
THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN" 11 
 
 town meeting was called and the presiding officer placed in a 
 hat or box slips of paper numbered from one to one hundred and 
 eighteen. Each proprietor as his name was called took out one 
 of these slips, which denoted not the number of his home lot, 
 but that of his turn for choosing his land. The fortunate per- 
 son who drew number one had his first choice of the whole ter- 
 ritory then laid out. He who drew the last number must take 
 whatever piece of land was left. 
 
 After the distribution of the home lots had been completed, 
 it was soon found that very few of the proprietors were ready 
 to face the difficulties and dangers attendant upon the begin- 
 ning of a new settlement. Only the six, whose names have al- 
 ready been given, adhered firmly to their purpose. The latter, 
 it was said, had entered into a compact to work in rotation at 
 clearing the land and building one another's houses. 
 
 The following account of the manner in which this enter- 
 prise was conducted Tvas derived partly from tradition and 
 partly from ancient records, but is probably correct in nearly 
 every detail. 
 
 The pioneers of South Hadley, with the exception of Luke 
 Montague, who, not being of age, was not yet entitled to draw 
 a home lot, were all married men whose ages ranged from 
 twenty-eight to thirty-seven years. Since Peter Montague 
 would have the assistance of his younger brother, it would 
 naturally be expected that his should be the first house to be 
 framed, especially as he had shrewdly selected his land in a 
 central location, and just opposite the point of junction where 
 the two roads leading from Hadley came together, but before 
 this house could be built great trees must be felled, great beams 
 hewed, and planks be sawed, to say nothing of joists, shingles 
 and hand-made nails. 
 
 It was soon learned that the best timber for this purpose 
 was to be found upon Chileab Smith's home lot, which he had, 
 perhaps, chosen with a view to this very end. His land was 
 embraced in the farm formerly occupied by the late Mr. Albert 
 Goldthwait, and the first field ever cleared in South Hadley 
 lay a little southeast of the house of Deacon Calvin Preston. 
 
12 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 For nearly two centuries this piece of ground was known dis- 
 tinctively as "The Old Field." 
 
 The old Proprietor's Book speaks of the mill pond (south 
 of Mrs. Dunklee's land), on which at this time a saw mill was 
 said to have been standing, and a rough cart track between this 
 place and Chileab Smith's home lot could be quickly opened. 
 
 No sooner was the unseasoned timber for the new house 
 prepared for weathering than other work lay ready at hand. 
 Ebenezer Marsh had acquired possession of a piece of land 
 northwest from the home of Sheriff Brockway. This must be 
 cleared and prepared for the first apple orchard ever set out 
 in South Hadley. Within a distance of eight miles were nur- 
 series from which young trees could be transplanted, and in old 
 accoimt books from 1732 to 1740 we find frequent entries like 
 the following: "Bo't of Eb. Marsh, 2 Barils of Syder." 
 
 While this work was progressing, it is said that these first 
 settlers went back to Hadley every Saturday afternoon, re- 
 turning to their work Monday morning, bringing with them 
 loaves of rye and Indian bread, nut cakes, gingerbread, and 
 like dainties. As for more substantial food, fish, deer and wild 
 turkeys were never far to seek. 
 
 It is doubtful whether the house of Peter Montague was 
 completed during this first summer. Months were required for 
 seasoning the green timber so that it would neither shrink nor 
 warp; then, too, the chimney must be taken into consideration, 
 ground must be excavated to the depth of several feet, that its 
 foundation might be below the reach of frost. 
 
 Early in 1721 we find our pioneers buying more land south 
 of Mt. Holyoke, this last winter (spent in Hadley) having in 
 nowise discouraged them. During the summer of 1721, more 
 land was cleared, material for John Preston's house was pre- 
 pared and fruit trees planted, Peter Montague setting out young 
 apple trees and placing a pear tree at the very corner of his 
 house. The latter is thought to have survived one hundred and 
 fifteen years. 
 
 As summer waned, a new danger threatened, since a fresh 
 Indian war was imminent. For more than a year it had been 
 
Il 
 
THE OEIGIN OF THE TOWN" 13 
 
 the law that every man should keep arms and ammunition with- 
 in his house, and the weight of their heavy matchlocks, which 
 must always be kept within reach while they worked, added 
 much to the labor of building. 
 
 In the early days there had been a law that every town 
 upon the Connecticut River should keep in readiness "ninety 
 coats basted with cotton wool and made defensive against In- 
 dian arrows," and when, as was customary, the minister 
 preached to and prayed with the soldiers before their setting 
 out, his text was usually an inspiration, as, "Thou shalt not be 
 afraid for the arrow that flieth by day." But, now, in spite of 
 the law strictly prohibiting the sale of firearms to the Indians, 
 they had learned their use, owned them, and had lost their 
 superstitious fear of the stick that sent thunder and lightning. 
 
 During the last two decades many white men had been 
 slain near the banks of the Connecticut, some when working in 
 the fields and others in their own homes. At this time the 
 Indians, instigated by their French allies, had already taken 
 captive whole families of the English and carried them to 
 Canada. 
 
 Hadley, early in 1722, in spite of the threatening aspect of 
 affairs, made a second grant of land south of Mt. Holyoke. This 
 grant was five times the size of the previous one, and the success 
 of the new settlement seemed now to be assured. 
 
 In this distribution of land William Montague appears to 
 have cared but little for his own original home lot, which stood 
 on Woodbridge street, desiring a more remote location. When 
 the day appointed for the choosing of land arrived, he, followed 
 possibly by Peter Domo, who located near him, desired to go 
 farther afield. It is said that William Montague, after reach- 
 ing Woodbridge street, declared himself ready to walk east- 
 ward, following an old Indian trail, until sunset. Nightfall 
 found him at the McGrath Spring on Batchelor street. Although 
 the land eventually decided upon lay farther to the south and 
 near Granby Center, yet he kept his promise of settling east 
 of the first nine divisions. 
 
 The importance of having new roads, whereby intending 
 
14 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 settlers could reach their meadows and pasture lands, soon be- 
 came apparent. The first highway laid out in the town, aside 
 from the usual thoroughfare between Springfield and Hadley, 
 was on Moshier street, which extended northerly to the house of 
 J. W. Waite, then easterly to South street, in Grranby — the sur- 
 veyors choosing, as the old record said, "The hardest and even- 
 est land." 
 
 We also read that on April 20, 1722, "We laid out a high- 
 way running easterly from ye Cold Hill to ye end of our Bounds, 
 which run as ye Old Path runs. Excepting some perticular 
 places where we run streighter or other places where ye ground 
 was better going. This is called by some ye Peachawomache 
 Eoad, which is eight rods wide." On the following day a high- 
 way was laid out from the Krug Homestead to Smith's Ferry, 
 but this was not cleared of trees until many years later. The 
 locations of these old roads have in most cases been somewhat 
 changed. 
 
 Perhaps no better proof can be found of the kind feeling 
 and sense of justice which prevailed in those days than their 
 method of locating new roads. Many of our allotments of land 
 were laid out in tiers so that some persons were unable to reach 
 their own grounds without crossing those of their neighbors. 
 In such cases the latter was forbidden by law to plow up the 
 land traversed by the former. A committee was appointed 
 who apprised the land for the road and the man who wanted 
 the right of way paid for it and held it. The expense of felling 
 the trees and digging up the stumps in these long highways 
 would have been a heavy burden for the town to assume, and 
 later on it was accordingly voted that those settlers who needed 
 fuel in order to replenish their winter fires should have liberty 
 to clear the timber from the roads. As the boundaries of the 
 highway were not very clearly defined, it was sometimes a great 
 temptation to encroach upon the land of some other proprietor. 
 A man who was once reproved for cutting a fine tree beyond 
 the bounds replied that "The highway is always widest where 
 the best timber grows." 
 
 The work of constructing these roads was soon interrupted 
 
THE OEIGIN OF THE TOWN 15 
 
 by the fourth Indian war, which was terminated only by the 
 Long Peace of 1726. During this time the depredations of the 
 red men were so great that the government, in order to stimu- 
 late watchfulness, offered a bounty of one hundred pounds for 
 every Indian scalp. Under these circumstances, life south of 
 Mt. Holyoke would be deemed very unsafe. 
 
 John Preston and his associates had not forgotten how the 
 red men, a few years before, had climbed to the summit of Mt. 
 Tom in order to mark the position of the scattered houses in 
 the village beneath, and had then descended to massacre more 
 than a score of its unsuspecting inhabitants. A portion of the 
 great Indian trail from Connecticut to Canada lay directly 
 through South Hadley; it extended from the ford near the 
 bridge in the Connecticut Eiver to Turkey Pass, or The Notch, 
 as it is now called. Why should not Mt. Holyoke prove to be 
 an equally good vantage ground for the savage foe? Prudence 
 certainlj^ dictated that the new settlement should be abandoned 
 for a time. 
 
 Ancient records indicate that this course was the one pur- 
 sued, and again forest and copse echoed the evening song of the 
 wood-thrush. 
 
 There were still, however, brief journeys to the embryo 
 town. In 1725, John Preston, desiring to be near his kinsman, 
 purchased the land adjoining Chileab Smith's home lot on the 
 west. This place, known as the Preston Farm, has remained 
 in the possession of his descendants ever since. 
 
 Here, as soon as the war was over, he erected the second 
 frame dwelling house ever built in South Hadley. Its massive 
 and well-seasoned timbers were fastened strongly together with 
 large wooden pegs. His original home lot had been on College 
 street, and included what has been known as the Old Howard 
 Place. 
 
 Several decades after the erection of this second dwelling 
 house there came a winter of unusual length and severity. The 
 snow lay so deep upon the levels that on the 20th of March this 
 building was drawn across to College street over the tops of 
 the fences, and after being set a short distance west of the high- 
 
16 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 way became the southern ell of the Howard house. This dwell- 
 ing was consumed by fire some years since or South Hadley's 
 second house might have survived for centuries to come. 
 
 Early in 1727 a change of sentiment in regard to the South 
 Precinct became manifest. Many new settlers determined to 
 occupy the land previously allotted them. A party which in- 
 cluded five families of Smiths, three of Kelloggs, three of Tay- 
 lors, and others, commenced the work of building their houses. 
 
 Luke Montague, a stalwart bachelor of twenty-seven, had 
 now returned to South Hadley. He brought with him the fa- 
 mous Courting Stick, which was so useful on cold winter nights 
 when there being but one fire in the house, the whole family 
 must be present at the wooing. This Courting Stick was a liol- 
 low tube about five feet in length, through which two lovers 
 could whisper to one another without their conversation being 
 audible to those about them. 
 
 Peter Montague's first house appears to have been occupied 
 at this time by Daniel Nash, Jr., who subsequently purchased 
 the premises. He was apparently not quite satisfied with the 
 location of the house, which, it is said, after taking down the 
 stone chimney, he moved to the present site of the Art Build- 
 ing. Here he erected a huge chimney formed of hand-made 
 bricks. Attached to the house was a gunsmith's shop, wherein 
 also he shod horses and oxen. 
 
 As for Ebenezer Marsh, aged people many years ago 
 claimed that the old kitchen still at the rear of Fred Loomer's 
 dwelling contained the big chimney and ponderous beams of 
 "Eb's" first domicile. 
 
 The number of settlers south of the mountain began to in- 
 crease so rapidly that within five years nearly forty families 
 were living there. 
 
 The work of building these early houses was of necessity 
 a slow and laborious one. They spent little time in digging cel- 
 lars, but turned their attention at once to preparing material for 
 chimneys, the bricks for which must all be made by hand. For 
 this purpose sand must be thoroughly mixed with the clay in 
 order to prevent it from cracking, and as they had none of our 
 
THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN 17 
 
 modern machinery this could be accomplished only by the tram- 
 pling of heavy feet. If the chimney were to be a large one the 
 sand and clay were placed together upon the ground, and for 
 two days the patient oxen were driven back and forth, back 
 and forth, till the two ingredients were well mingled. Mold- 
 ing it into form and drying it in the sun before putting it into 
 their primitive kilns must also be done by hand. The number 
 of bricks that went into the making of these chimneys would 
 be almost incredible in our day. A grandson of one of our 
 pioneers, building a house here in 1791, used 10,000 hand-made 
 bricks in constructing a single chimney. 
 
 In the beginning all worked together, in turn, upon one 
 another's houses, their joint labor being a necessity when heavy 
 lifting was to be done. Confederacy was also a measure of 
 safety at night when the tenants of the forests must be guarded 
 against. Not only did the wolves issue from their lairs, but Sir 
 Bruin, less fierce yet a clever marauder, might be sleeping in 
 the very door yard. Then, too, the presence of venomous rep- 
 tiles entailed constant vigilance. Rattlesnakes came down from 
 the mountain in search of water and were often found at the 
 very threshold. One woman, returning from a fierce encounter 
 in which she had routed his snakeship, said, excitedly, but with- 
 out a thought of irreverence, "I have killed the Devil." So 
 numerous and venomous were these reptiles that more than a 
 century later it was a common saying in Amherst College that 
 no student was worthy of his diploma unless he had killed a 
 rattlesnake. A member of the Class of 1830 said at a commence- 
 ment dinner that at the time of his graduation there were not 
 students enough in the college to keep the campus free from 
 snakes. 
 
 Old Mr. Root, who lived in the next town, was always ready 
 to tell of his adventure with wolves. He had been down to the 
 meadow to see if the grass was ready to cut, and, it being a 
 time of peace with the Indians, had left his heavy matchlock at 
 home. On his way back he heard a strange noise, and, looking 
 up, saw a pack of wolves coming toward him. He had not even 
 a stick with which to defend himself, and reflecting that God 
 
18 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 alone could save him, he stood still in the path, closed his eyes, 
 and prayed that for the sake of his wife and little ones the Lord 
 would preserve him. He could hear the shufiBing of the wolves' 
 feet as he breathed his petition and expected every moment to 
 feel their fangs in his throat. Presently the sound appeared to 
 grow fainter and recede. Opening his eyes he saw the last one 
 disappearing and knew that he was saved. 
 
 Bears were not at this time considered dangerous to the 
 human race unless angered or very hungry. Instances are told 
 of little children in this vicinity passing them unharmed. The 
 author's great-grandfather used to relate the story of a narrow 
 escaioe which he once had. He was going courting, and riding 
 on horseback through the forests, saw before him a large black 
 bear sitting upright beside the woodland path. He looked so 
 dignified that the young man, in his light-heartedness, ventured 
 on a joke. As he passed by he lifted his hat and bowed low. 
 "Your servant, sir," he said. But the bear evidently considered 
 this a challenge to mortal combat, for, with a fierce growl, he in- 
 stantly started in pursuit. Mile after mile the horse's feet, 
 winged by fear, rushed madly on, but close behind them, like a 
 relentless fate, came the padding sound of the infuriated brute. 
 At last the panting horse, exhausted by the race for life, began 
 to falter and the end seemed near, when, lo, beside the path stood 
 a house and yard encircled by a fence. The gate was, fortu- 
 nately, open, and horse and rider entered. The bear stopped to 
 gaze suspiciously at the fence, then with a disappointed growl 
 turned and went back into the forest. 
 
 During the early settlement of the town there prevailed 
 among its inhabitants an almost universal spirit of kinship and 
 a generous regard for one another's interests. To every new- 
 comer there was straightway given what was called a Chop- 
 ping Bee. On the appointed morning men might be seen com- 
 ing from every direction, carrying axes, saws and other imple- 
 ments of labor. Wlien, at sunset, the grateful proprietor sur- 
 veyed the transformation that had been effected, he could hardly 
 believe the testimony of his own eyes. This great change had 
 been brought about by what was then called the drive; this 
 
 { 
 
THE ORIGIN' OF THE TOWN 19 
 
 meant that the woods liad been leveled in the following manner : 
 A row of trees was selected, the first one of which was felled 
 and removed ; the others were then partly cut, all of them upon 
 the same side toward the front, the smaller trees being chopped 
 into until the middle of the trunk had been reached, while the 
 larger ones were penetrated still more deeply. The last tree 
 in the row was felled in such a manner that it would drop upon 
 the preceding one, and when the crashing sound that followed 
 had ceased it would be found that all the trees had fallen in the 
 same manner that a long row of ninepins can be thrown down 
 by a single blow administered at one end of the line. 
 
 Most of these early houses were small, one-story affairs, 
 and if any attempt was made at having a cellar the latter could 
 only be reached by means of a short ladder let down through a 
 trap door in the kitchen floor. 
 
 In 1728 Peter Montague, returning to South Hadley, pur- 
 chased the land southwest of Bachelor Brook, where he built his 
 second house, which was at that date the finest dwelling south 
 of Mt. Holyoke. Four of its large rooms contained each a big, 
 open fireplace ; one of these, a chamber in the second story, being 
 called the spinning room. 
 
 It had been one of the early laws that boys, girls and women 
 should spin thirty weeks each year, and it was the duty of the 
 selectmen to see that this edict was carried into effect. During 
 the twenty-two weeks of cold weather very few of our in- 
 habitants had any means of heating their spinning room. South 
 Hadley did not intend that the crime of laziness should take 
 root within her borders, and a special committee was appointed 
 to look after idle persons. This duty later on developed upon 
 the tithing men, whose office was not simply to preserve order in 
 church, but to see that in every family the spinning and weav- 
 ing of flax and wool provided sufficient clothing for the house- 
 hold. They were at that time called inspectors of the neigh- 
 bors. Any families who neglected to comply with their de- 
 mands were warned by the constable that they must leave the 
 town. 
 
 Habits of enforced industry were continued until far into 
 
20 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 the nineteenth century. Each of the young people had a cer- 
 tain amount of work allotted them, which was called their stint 
 or stent, and no recreation was allowed until this task had been 
 accomplished. Even the yoimger boys, upon their return from 
 school, were required to knit a certain number of rounds upon 
 their stockings before they could have a moment of play time. 
 
 There was often a friendly rivalry among young girls 
 in the same neighborhood. Our minister's daughter, Julia 
 Hayes, in the old parsonage now occupied by Mrs. Lester, 
 Clarissa Dwight, who lived on the present site of the Art Build- 
 ing, and Sally White, whose father kept a tavern, each had the 
 same amount of spinning allotted to them. This trio had agreed 
 among themselves that whoever first finished her task should 
 hang a towel from the window, and every morning found the 
 girls at the very earliest peep of day sitting at their spinning 
 wheels, each ambitious of being the first to hang out the signal 
 that her stent was accomplished. 
 
 In such ways did our forefathers teach their children to 
 respect the old sajang that "Idleness travels very slowly and 
 poverty soon overtakes her." 
 
CHAPTER SECOND 
 
 EABLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 MANIFOLD were the devices whereby our early honse- 
 wives were aided in their struggle with the privations 
 incident to the settlement of a new town. 
 
 Then, as now, Monday was washing day. Tlie larger home 
 lots had been so carefully laid out that nearly every one con- 
 tained a stream of water, where in summer the clothing of the 
 family could be washed and then hung upon the bushes to dry. 
 
 But when winter came and the brooks were fettered with 
 ice some substitute for the modern tub must be devised. Nature, 
 however, had anticipated many of their needs. Eeady at hand 
 in our swamps stood a species of the black gum, called the pep- 
 eridge tree, whose trunk when old was hollow or filled with a 
 soft, spongy substance which could be easily removed. A sec- 
 tion of the trunk was sawed off, two projections being left upon 
 the upper side, which would later be made into handles, and a 
 round disk of wood was fitted into the other end. The records 
 show that a washing tub was considered the equivalent in value 
 of a half bushel measure. Churns, keelers for washing dishes, 
 mortars, and miniature barrels, which served as a receptacle for 
 soft soap, were made in a similar manner. A softer kind of 
 wood, with a less twisted grain, was used in the manufacture of 
 the wooden plates, bowls, platters, and other dishes in common 
 use. The children ate their bread and milk with spoons whit- 
 tled out by their fathers, or cunningly shaped from gourds, 
 raised for this purpose. Even the first communion service may 
 have been in this, as in other towns, a wooden one. 
 
 Upon the advent of visitors, the dinner table was adorned 
 with pewter plates and dishes, shining like so much silver. Only 
 at neighborhood tea parties did the few bits of china appear. 
 At these each guest was supposed to bring his or her own cup, 
 saucer, teaspoon, and possibly an earthen plate. The tea was 
 
23 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 cooled in and drank from the saucer, and a spoon placed in the 
 cup was a signal to the hostess that it needed replenishing. 
 These festive occasions were bright spots amid the ceaseless 
 drudgery of the settlers' life. The pound-cake that graced the 
 center of the table was intended for ornament as well as con- 
 sumption. "Gest to let her see that I knew what manners was, 
 I passed it a second time, and she up and took another hull 
 piece," was the complaint uttered by one of these ancient 
 matrons. 
 
 About this time the small two-tined forks, with handles of 
 horn, had come into use here, but they were still rare, as one of 
 our richest men, whose family consisted of ten persons, owned 
 but five knives and forks, and seven silver spoons. In these days 
 the meat was cut into small pieces before placing it upon the 
 table, and each child was given a bit of stout twig, from which 
 the bark had been removed. Its two prongs having been well 
 sharpened, served as a substitute for the new-fangled fork. 
 
 From the ancient records we gain many a glimpse of the 
 manners and customs of that day. The aforesaid family pos- 
 sessed but one looking-glass, this being considered a patrician 
 luxury. They had, however, four spinning wheels and a 
 weaver's loom, these articles being classed among the necessi- 
 ties of life. Upon them had been manufactured the thirteen 
 linen sheets, in common i;se, the latter being valued in the ap- 
 praisal at one shilling each, while the pair of cotton sheets, kept 
 for the most distinguished guests, were set down at thirty shill- 
 ings. 
 
 This weaving and spinning must be done by daylight, for 
 the inventory includes only two candlesticks, both of them being 
 of iron. If any greater illumination was needed, a candlestick 
 could be improvised from a turnip. 
 
 In the making of candles, we find another instance of the 
 abounding hospitality that prevailed. Those dipped in melted 
 tallow were considered good enough for ordinary use, but the 
 company candles had their wicks first dipped in turpentine in 
 order to make them burn with a brighter flame. It must be re- 
 membered tliat the ruddy glow which flooded the room from 
 
EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 23 
 
 the burning logs in the wide-mouthed fireplace did much to- 
 ward lighting the big kitchen, which was the general place of 
 resort during the long winter evenings, and in whose dusky 
 depths young lovers clasped hands and murmured their fond 
 vows, unheeded by their elders. 
 
 Our town had at that time a silent form of courtship, bor- 
 rowed from the Indians. The bashful youth who would fain 
 offer himself to the maiden of his choice plucked a sprig of 
 southernwood, and at some opportune moment placed it in her 
 hand. Quick to interpret its meaning, her answer might be 
 given in three different ways. If she ruthlessly broke it in pieces 
 and threw it away, this betokened a complete rejection of his 
 suit. If she looked at it and then gently returned it, this was 
 equivalent to saying, "I do not yet know my own mind, but you 
 may continue to come here." If she kept it, raising it to her 
 face in order to inhale its spicy fragrance, then indeed were the 
 gates of Paradise flung wide before him. 
 
 Courtesy toward even unwelcome guests was always a 
 marked characteristic of this place. He who had spent a night 
 in any household expected, as a matter of course, an invitation 
 to conduct the morning devotions, and sometimes prolonged 
 them beyond the usual limits. Upon one of these occasions a 
 little South Hadley boy, whpse knees were weary from the long 
 kneeling, remarked in a distinctly audible voice, "You've pray- 
 ered long enough." This brought the orison to a speedy close, 
 but the boy was afterwards interviewed by one of his parents 
 and never repeated the misbehavior. 
 
 The "everyday" apple pies were made with a rye crust, 
 and sweetened with maple sugar; but there must always be a 
 company pie with wheaten crust, and well seasoned with spice, 
 and white or brown sugar. 
 
 A child's first instruction in school was in regard to polite- 
 ness. Before learning his A B C's he was taught to make his 
 manners. This meant that he should watch the slow descent of 
 the teacher's hand — his toes placed carefully upon the line — and 
 at the psychological moment, should bend his body forward in an 
 awkward bow. "Children should be seen and not heard," was 
 
24 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 the instant reproof if the little ones attempted to speak at the 
 noon repast. There was no trouble at morning and night, for 
 they were not allowed to come to table during breakfast or supper, 
 but ate their bread and milk, or hasty pudding, sitting upon a 
 joint stool. The reason of this exclusion from the two meals 
 may have been that the one was too early and the other too 
 late; for in summer the farmer's family breakfasted at five 
 o 'clock and supped at seven, while in winter the usual hour was 
 six o'clock, both morning and night. Giving plenty of time for 
 sleep to the occupants of the trundle bed was one of the old-time 
 cardinal virtues. 
 
 The late Dr. J. G. Holland, poet and historian, who was 
 formerly a resident of our town, and who often said that he loved 
 South Hadley and was glad that he could count himself among 
 her sons, when he heard someone quote, "The necessary hours 
 of sleep are six for a man, seven for a woman, and eight for a 
 fool," is said to have remarked dryly that the man who origi- 
 nated that saying had better sleep eight hours in order to verify 
 his own statement. 
 
 The moral and spiritual welfare of children was watched 
 over with no less degree of care than their physical develop- 
 ment. The birch rod was considered a necessary adjunct of 
 nearly every household, and usually lay ready at hand upon 
 the mantelpiece. After correction had been duly administered, 
 some parents required the sobbing culprit to stand in front of 
 them and repeat these exasperating lines: 
 
 "Solomon says, his words are mild, 
 
 'Spare the rod and spoil the child.' 
 
 Oh, no, dear mother, don't do so. 
 
 But whip me well, and make me do." 
 Should a child exhibit signs of a dawning vanity in a new 
 bonnet or dress. Dr. Watts supplied just the words they needed 
 to learn: 
 
 "How should our garments, made to hide 
 
 Our sin and shame, provoke our pride, 
 
 For the poor sheep and silkworm wore 
 
 The very clothing long before." 
 
EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 33 
 
 Or, if little brothers and sisters quarreled, the punishment 
 was supposed to receive added emphasis by having them re- 
 peat immediately after it : 
 
 "Let dogs delight to bark and bite. 
 
 For God hath made them so; 
 Let bears and lions growl and fight, 
 
 For 'tis their nature to. 
 But, children, you should never let 
 
 Your angry passions rise; 
 Your little hands were never made 
 To tear each others eyes." > 
 As the years went on, the rhymes grew a little milder. 
 Major David Smith, who, after the Revolutionary War, had 
 been made a deacon in our church, having become a merchant, 
 went, at stated intervals, to Boston in order to replenish his 
 stock of goods. About a century ago he appears to have intro- 
 duced wooden dolls with glass eyes and vermilion cheeks, which 
 were to the children a perpetual joy, they being to a certain 
 degree indestructible. Coincident with this was the publication 
 of a new poem: 
 
 "Miss Jenny and Molly had each a new dolly. 
 
 With rosy red cheeks and blue eyes. 
 Dressed in ribbons and gauze, and they quarreled because 
 
 The dolls were not both of a size. 
 Oh, silly Miss Jenny to be such a ninny. 
 
 To make so much trouble and noise; 
 For the very next day her mamma took away 
 The doll with red cheeks and blue eyes." 
 One of the mothers in an adjoining town publicly declared 
 that she should bring up her children without whipping them. 
 This was a heresy that could not be countenanced, and the church 
 committee were sent to call upon her in order to convince her of 
 the error of her ways. They reminded her that Solomon, the 
 wisest man that ever lived, said "Chasten thy son while there 
 is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying," and repeated 
 other passages of like import. "I am not patterning my life 
 after Solomon's," she answered firmly, "but after the Lord 
 
26 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Jesus. We are living under the New Dispensation," and she 
 gave them such apt quotations from the Testament that they 
 were glad to beat a retreat. It is worthy of note that every one 
 of her sons became either a minister or a deacon. 
 
 Children, as soon as they were too old to sit in lap, were 
 taught to stand at table during the noontide meal. They were 
 not allowed to sit until they had become so tall that it was in- 
 convenient to convey their food from the plate to the mouth. 
 Tables were much lower than at the present time, and some- 
 times a child borrowed grandma's cricket to stand upon. 
 
 It was expected at this time that every boy should read the 
 Bible through at least once. This could be accomplished in a 
 year's time by reading three chapters every day, and ten every 
 Sunday. We find in our old account books how this or that boy 
 was paid twenty-five cents for having read the Bible through. 
 
 About the middle of the forenoon, in haying time, the labor- 
 ers always stopped for a snack, as it was termed, and while 
 they ate, some boy, detailed for the purpose, brought his Bible 
 and read aloud to them, thus combining at the same time bodily 
 and spiritual refreshment. 
 
 "Five feather beds" is one of the items in the inventory 
 previously referred to. From the refuse of their flax the set- 
 tlers made a kind of coarse canvas called "tow cloth." This 
 was sewed into ticks, two for each bed. One of them was filled 
 with straw for summer use, and the other with feathers, since, 
 during the winter, in the fireless rooms, they were needed for 
 warmth as well as repose. These feathers were obtained from 
 the wild turkeys, which were so plentiful. Nat Goodale used 
 to say, "There was not an acre of land between Bittersweet 
 Lane and Mt. Hoh^oke upon which he had not shot a wild tur- 
 key." 
 
 It was not until after the Revolution that even the richest 
 inhabitants had a "tame" turkey for the Thanksgiving dinner. 
 Before the advent of brooms the wings of these fowls were used 
 not only for dusting the furniture, but in the hands of children 
 as a means of keeping the floor clean. The stiff tail feathers 
 were fastened together at the quills, forming an immense fan 
 
EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 27 
 
 which was used to keep at bay the buzzing flies that on Sundays 
 in summer swarmed through the unscreened windows of the meet- 
 ing house. 
 
 As more land was cleared, the beds were much improved 
 by the substitution of what were known as "live geese feath- 
 ers." This indicated that a piece of ground, situated near a run- 
 ning stream, had been enclosed in a goose pen. Three times 
 each year were its inmates deprived of some part of their downy 
 covering. At every other new moon during the spring and early 
 summer each goose was caught in turn, an old stocking pulled 
 over its head to prevent it from biting, and about five ounces of 
 soft feathers taken, after which it was released. Wlienever a 
 suggestion was made to the old people in regard to the seeming 
 cruelty of this operation, it was indignantly repelled with the 
 assertion that at this season of the year the geese often pulled 
 out their own feathers. 
 
 The employments now assigned respectively to boys and 
 girls were then considered as interchangeable. Young boys 
 were taught to spin and knit, wash dishes, and, if necessary, 
 make beds; girls learned to rake hay, milk the cow, and weed 
 the garden. It was the boast of one of our Cold Hill farmers 
 that with the help of his four daughters he needed no hired man. 
 
 The geese were usuall}' driven back and forth, to and from 
 their pasture, by a girl, who always received a feather bed, 
 bolster and two pillows as a part of her wedding dowry. Esther 
 K., who lived in the "Over-the-Brook" district, had been goose 
 girl for many years and felt that when she left the paternal roof 
 she had earned more than one feather bed. But custom was in- 
 exorable. So she wove herself a tick, a little larger than the 
 ordinary size, and stuffed it with feathers till her friends said 
 it was so hard it would prove uncomfortable. She took no notice 
 of this remark, but after arriving at her new home, calmly drew 
 from her hair trunk a second tick, and having transferred nearly 
 half of the feathers, pointed with pride to her two nice beds, and 
 all the neighbors agreed that Mr. M. had found a very capable 
 wife. 
 
 It was a common saying here that no girl was fit to be mar- 
 
28 EAETA^ LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 ried until she had a pillow case full of stockings, the wool for 
 which must be carded, spun, and knit by her own hands. 
 
 A wedding was the favorite merrymaking with both young 
 and old. The elder people knew that the long afternoon would 
 afford them ample time for talking politics, indulging in friendly 
 gossip, or exchanging recipes for new dishes, which in the ab- 
 sence of cook books was deemed a matter of importance. Then, 
 too, they were certain of having a substantial supper, veal, beef, 
 and other attractive viands, with unlimited supplies of liquid 
 refreshment. 
 
 For the young people there was the evening dance, pro- 
 longed, as a peculiar privilege, until ten o'clock. But they must 
 trip the "light fantastic toe" to the music of a different violin 
 from the one which led the Sunday service of song. To use the 
 same instrument at both church and dance would have seemed 
 in that day a most unsanctified proceeding, even though the min- 
 ister himself closed the merrjrmaking with the Benediction. 
 
 Colonial laws strictly forbade the wooing of a maiden with- 
 out having first obtained the consent of her parents ; this some- 
 times caused an unscheduled change in the marriage ceremony. 
 The author's grandfather used to tell how a daughter of the 
 Widow H. was about to wed a young man of excellent repute, 
 though not a member of the church. On the wedding day, hardly 
 had the minister finished his first prayer when the mother of the 
 bride interposed. Calling the young man by name, she de- 
 manded from him a promise that if he married her daughter he 
 would immediately institute family worship and have morning 
 and evening devotions every day. After some hesitation he 
 consented. Then she asked him if he were prepared to acknowl- 
 edge that, owing to the death of her husband, she, and she 
 alone, had the right to give or withhold her daughter in mar- 
 riage. To this, upon due reflection, he assented, upon which 
 she triumphantly produced a paper which contained the legal 
 relinquishment of the daughter's share in her father's estate, 
 leaving it to the widow to give the bride only such portion as she 
 might see fit. She requested him to sign the paper. This he 
 refused to do, upon which Mrs. H. forbade the continuance of 
 
liJJAL'iNij Tin: i;ii;i.!: -j^j tiul: iiAV.\iAKj;ii.s 
 
I 
 
EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HALLEY 29 
 
 the ceremony. The minister was perplexed ; the guests nervous ; 
 but the mother remained calm and firm. At length the un- 
 happy bridegroom yielded, and the minister used to say that 
 he finished that ceremony with a celerity seldom witnessed. 
 
 About the year 1800 marriage notices were sent to the 
 newspapers, and were always accompanied by a piece of the 
 wedding cake. These notices were generally printed in a com- 
 plimentary style. We find in an old newspaper: 
 
 "Mr. John Powers was married to the amiable and much 
 accomplished Miss Jerusha Preston, daughter of Leftenant 
 Preston of South Hadley." 
 
 The amount of the bride's fortune was frequently included 
 in the marriage notices, for bj^ law the wife's dowry became at 
 once the property of her husband. 
 
 But there were other and less joyous gatherings than those 
 which marked the wedding festivities. In their desire to avoid 
 all resemblance to the English ceremonial, our ancestors at first 
 held no religious services at funerals, and during the first few 
 years of our town burials were very unlike those of to-day. Old 
 people used to tell us their grandfathers claimed that they could 
 hew from a log, planks so smooth that one would suppose they 
 had been nicely planed. Out of these planks were probably con- 
 structed oblong boxes, which, when painted black, served as 
 coffins. Later, the better class of carpenters in our town be- 
 came known as cabinetmakers, and were expected to keep con- 
 stantly on hand a supply of cofiins, large at the head and taper- 
 ing at the foot. We find in the old account books, about 1770, 
 "To a coffin with a door to it, fifty shillings." "To a coffin with 
 a door hung," etc. This doubtless referred to the panel in the 
 lid, which, when, removed, left the face exposed to view. 
 
 One of the chief requisites for a burial was an abundant sup- 
 ply of cider and other spirituous liquors. These were dispensed 
 both before and after the interment. 
 
 In accordance with their belief that the two sexes should 
 be separated during divine service at the meeting house, men 
 and women were not permitted to sit together at funerals. If 
 the deceased person were a woman then the women sat in the 
 
30 EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 same room with the coffin, and told one another in whispers of 
 the different omens that had forewarned of death. For more 
 than a centnry the friendly whippoorwills of Mt. Holyoke were 
 in the hahit of coming down to the settlement in search of food, 
 and sometimes alighted npon the ridgepole, that being their 
 favorite perch. But if the plaintive note of this bird was heard 
 over a house wherein a sick person lay, the case was considered 
 hopeless. A long bit of wick in an unsnuffed candle was called 
 a winding sheet, and was said to betoken that one would soon 
 be needed in that neighborhood. 
 
 sFor more than a hundred years a certain kind of wood 
 tick, which made a curious little drumming sound with its head, 
 added to the superstitious fears of our fathers. It was called 
 the death watch, and though it was often in the walls the sick 
 who heard it felt sure that death was near. But if the sound 
 ceased, everyone made haste to repeat these encouraging words : 
 
 ' ' The omen is broken, the danger is over. 
 The insect will die, and the sick will recover. 'j) 
 
 Women were at this time said to have been excluded from 
 funeral processions; they remained at the house, setting tables 
 and preparing food of which all were to partake on the return 
 from the grave. 
 
 As the years rolled on, it became the custom for the minister 
 to make a prayer at the house, and for the members of the be- 
 reaved family to read aloud appropriate texts of Scripture. 
 
 About 1800 there had been still greater changes in the 
 method of conducting services for the dead. Now, at every 
 funeral, the minister preached a sermon, usually a laudatory 
 one, and closing with personal remarks addressed to different 
 members of the bereaved family. If the deceased had been a 
 large landholder he was spoken of as a man of substance. 
 
 In a sermon preached upon the death of one of our richest 
 men, the widow was adjured "not to repine at her loss, but 
 rather to wonder at the divine mercy that had spared her." We 
 learn from an old diary that Deacon Smith's funeral sermon 
 "touched upon his character and the loss sustained by the town 
 
EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 31 
 
 and the church by the death of so great, so wise, and so pious 
 a man, in that most useful age of his life." 
 
 After the Revolution women were no longer excluded from 
 the funeral procession, and were even allowed to be present dur- 
 ing the committal to the grave. If the deceased person were a 
 woman, then they walked two and two directly behind the bier, 
 the men following in like manner. If the deceased were a man, 
 then this order was reversed, men having the precedence. The 
 horsemen rode behind the mourners two abreast, while the rear 
 was filled with chaises and other vehicles. So great was the 
 respect shown toward the dead that during the conveyance from 
 the house to the burying ground the street was kept clear of 
 both persons and horses so that no one would either meet or pass 
 the procession upon its way. 
 
 There were at that time no professional undertakers, but 
 once in five years a committee was appointed by our town, one 
 in each school district, whose duty it was to "regulate the pro- 
 cessions at funerals." This committee was usually composed 
 of the leading men, courtly in their manners, but of firm, well- 
 disciplined wills. Among them we find in our town records such 
 names as these: Col. Ruggles Woodbridge, Major Elijjhaz 
 Moody, Lieut. Titus Goodman, Dr. Stebbins, Lieut. Joseph 
 White, etc. 
 
 Six bearers, using what was termed a shoulder bier, car- 
 ried the coffin from the home of the deceased to the graveyard, 
 a distance of several miles. Later their number was reduced to 
 four, but sometimes relays of men preceded them, and, at stated 
 intervals, relieved the bearers by taking their places. This 
 shoulder bier was still in use here in 1837. It was usually con- 
 cealed beneath a black cloth, called a pall. The latter was owned 
 by the town. We find in the records of January 13, 1745: 
 "Voted that Daniel Moody make a grave cloth." 
 
 At this period all persons were expected to lay aside their 
 daily occupations in order to be present at funerals, attendance 
 there being considered hardly less obligatory than at cnurcb 
 services. 
 
 It used to be said that the ordeal which awaited the moui-n- 
 
32 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 ers upon the ensuing Sabbath was even harder to bear than the 
 funeral exercises. It was customary for the minister to read 
 from the pulpit such notices as the following: "Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 desire the prayers of this church and congregation that 
 
 the recent death of their son may be sanctified to them for their 
 spiritual good. Their children join in the same request." Then 
 the whole family arose and stood in their pew while the pastor 
 prayed for them. 
 
 Friends of the sick also sent in requests for prayers, and 
 within a century notices like the following were read in the 
 South Hadley meeting house: "Mr. - — - — , who this week sets 
 out for York State, asks the prayers of the congregation for his 
 safe return." 
 
 The storj' of South Hadley 's first burial place, as it has been 
 handed down from generation to generation, forms one of the 
 most pathetic incidents in the history of the town. In 1727 
 the insistent courage and energy of John Preston had enabled 
 him to build the second frame dwelling house ever erected south 
 of Mt. Holyoke. One of the first public necessities of a new set- 
 tlement was the "God's Acre," consecrated to the repose of the 
 dead. It was usually placed near the meeting house in order 
 that the worshipers might be constantly reminded of their own 
 mortality. We had at this time no church building nearer than 
 Hadley, and public opinion demanded that the burying ground 
 should be so central that the mourners could walk from the house 
 to the grave. We find local ministers as late as 1841 telling their 
 congregations that the only proper method of procedure at 
 funerals was for the bereaved family and friends to walk from 
 the home to the place of interment. 
 
 Early in 1728 John Preston, who ovmed a tract of land on 
 the west side of College street, nearly opposite the Mary Lyon 
 Chapel, offered to give three acres to be used as a resting place 
 for the dead. It had been known as Sandy Hill, and, lying at 
 the junction of two highways, it seemed a convenient place of 
 burial. In February of this year he was called to Hadley, prob- 
 ably owing to the illness of his parents. During his absence 
 there occurred the death of an infant, and a message was 
 
EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 33 
 
 sent to him begging him to return to South Hadley long enough 
 to decide upon a place of interment. Being near the Connecticut 
 he borrowed a canoe and came doyn the river to South Harbor 
 (Smith's Ferry). After landing he threaded the narrow foot- 
 path up to Sandy Hill, and located what was afterwards known 
 as the Old Graveyard. Upon his return a cold rain set in, and 
 the pitiless sleet fell ceaselessly upon the open boat. This ex- 
 posure was followed by a severe illness. 
 
 A town meeting had been appointed in Hadley for the pur- 
 pose of ratifying his gift, and on March fourth the records tell 
 us that it was voted: "Jno. Nash and Lieut. Jno. Smith be Im- 
 proved to View the place, and Lay it out in such form and quan- 
 titee as they shall think Best, not to exceed three Acres in quan- 
 titee." It was on this very day that the donor breathed his last. 
 
 Stalwart men brought John Preston home, for it would have 
 been looked upon as an unparalleled disrespect if oxen or horses 
 had been permitted to aid in the conveyance. He was interred 
 upon the exact spot where now stands the Gaylord Library, a 
 fitting memorial for the two generous men, one of whom gave the 
 land and the other the building. His headstone, which has been 
 moved farther west, bears the following inscription: 
 
 JOHN PRESTON 
 DYeD on MARCH Y 4 1727^ 
 AGED 41 YEAR AND THE 
 Y FIRST HERE BURIED 
 
 He was buried with his feet toward the east in order that 
 he might rise facing the dawn, where he believed that Christ 
 would appear on the morning of the Resurrection. This prac- 
 tice was continued in the Old Cemetery until after 1800. 
 
 There was a curious superstition in regard to the treatment 
 of honey bees, when, as sometimes happened, a death occurred 
 in the family of their owner. It was a common belief that if the 
 news of this event were not conveyed to these little insects, they 
 might be angered and return to the wooded sides of Mt. Holyoke. 
 
34 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 The messenger usually selected, if one may judge from the old- 
 time paintings of her, was a young girl clad in the habiliments 
 of mourning, and carrying a piece of black cloth to place upon 
 the hive. 
 
 Mr. A., one of the farmers in this vicinity, has left us his ex- 
 perience. Previous to his father's last illness the bees had all 
 been carried into an unused chamber, in order to protect them 
 from the wintry storms and snow. He said that just before his 
 father's death they became restless and uneasy, and strange 
 sounds were heard within the hive. This lasted for several days, 
 but after the funeral the bees having been told what had hap- 
 pened again became quiet. 
 
 A New England poet thus describes the customary method 
 of imparting this information : 
 
 "Before them, under the garden wall. 
 Forward and back. 
 Went drearily singing the chore-girl small. 
 Draping each hive with a shred of black. 
 And the song she was singing ever since 
 
 In my ear sounds on: 
 ' Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence ! 
 Mistress Mary is dead and gone!' " 
 
CHAPTER THIRD 
 
 EAKLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY (CONCLUDED) 
 
 NEIGHBORHOOD gatherings were far more frequent in 
 olden times than at the present day, for whenever there 
 was extra work to be done the young people promptly 
 suggested having a Bee. 
 
 We find from the records that on an average each family 
 used from ten to fifteen barrels of cider a year. This, how- 
 ever, was not intended wholly for use as a beverage. During 
 the autumn fresh, sweet cider was boiled down into a syrup, and 
 great kegs of cider apple sauce, more delicious than most pre- 
 serves, were stored in the cellar for the winter's use. Its prep- 
 aration entailed the paring, quartering and coring of many 
 bushels of apples, and gave occasion for holding a paring bee. 
 
 Upon the appointed evening the young men, with their jack- 
 knives sharpened to a fine edge, repaired to the home of the 
 hostess, whither the girls had already preceded them. The lat- 
 ter were provided with long wooden trenchers, intended for the 
 reception of the cores and parings, and the hearts of the maidens 
 fluttered with uncertainty as to which of the comely swains 
 would ask to share her trencher, and so work beside her through 
 the flying hours. 
 
 As they neared the end of their labors, each youth in turn 
 selected a smooth, round apple and pared it carefully so that 
 he might not break the skin. Taking this paring in his hand he 
 whirled it above his head, then threw it upon the table. The 
 judges decided which letter of the alphabet it most resembled, 
 this being supposed to indicate the initial of the girl's name 
 whom he was — in the parlance of that day — to see home. If the 
 letter could be construed into an "S" or a "P," it was sure to be 
 translated into Sally Piper, for that fun-loving damsel was a 
 great favorite among her young companions, albeit she was on 
 Sundays the despair of the tithing man, whose voice could some- 
 
36 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 times be beard balfway across tbe meeting house, "Attention! 
 Sally Piper, attention!" 
 
 After tbe apples were finished came games and refresh- 
 ments. Wooden keelers were heaped high with nut cakes, — more 
 familiarly known now as raised doughnuts,- — pewter platters 
 were piled with squares of golden gingerbread, sweetened with 
 maple syrup, since molasses must be brought from far. There 
 were cheese and cider everywhere, but when the hour of nine 
 arrived, cordial good-nights were exchanged, and the crowd of 
 merry-makers went home. 
 
 These social methods of bearing one another's burdens were 
 a marked characteristic of both South Hadley and Granby. 
 There were spinning bees, knitting bees, quiltings, chopping 
 bees, mowing bees and husking parties; to say nothing of the 
 raisings, which were always convivial affairs. 
 
 At the raising of Dr. Dwight's new house (now the College 
 Infirmary), he purchased a new washtub to be used as a punch 
 bowl. The day was a rainy one and a shelter was erected in 
 which to take refuge when the storm was too violent, and the 
 impromptu punch bowl proved so alluring that even the deacon 
 went staggering home. But this was before the days of the 
 temperance reformation. 
 
 The raising of a meeting house was an even more thirsty 
 affair. Volunteers came from other towns to assist, and the 
 cider barrel that had received several decanters of wine, was 
 considered suitable for such occasions. 
 
 Deacon David Nash went from here as a delegate to a neigh- 
 boring town which was about to build a church. The committee, 
 of which he was one, staked out the site, while the townspeople 
 held a meeting and voted to ' ' procure a sufficient quantity of rum 
 for raising the frame of the meeting house." 
 
 Spinning bees appear to have been the ones that ranked 
 highest in the estimation of our great-grandmothers. These 
 were of two kinds. The first was an informal affair ; the girls in 
 the neighborhood, between services on Sunday, agreed upon the 
 day when and the house where they would meet. At the ap- 
 pointed time and place all appeared, bringing their small wheels 
 
EAELY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 37 ' 
 
 and bunches of flax. The afternoon was spent in friendly gos- 
 sip, with a bit of half-suppressed rivalry as to which of them 
 would first finish her stent. Then home to supper, singing 
 blithely as they went. 
 
 The other kind of spinning bees were somewhat like a sur- 
 prise party. If any woman were ill or unable to provide cloth- 
 ing for her family, or if the minister's wife had a young babe 
 to care for, then the elder women joined with the younger, and 
 ox carts conveyed the large wheels to the desired place. Some 
 carried flax or wool, others gave their time and work, but each 
 one brought some article of food for the sumptuous repast that 
 closed the afternoon, and at which the preserves were put up 
 pound for pound, and the hung beef was beyond the imagination 
 of any modern epicure. 
 
 Prettiest of all were the children's knitting bees. Every 
 child carried his or her stocking to the party. At a given signal 
 each one put in a mark, and they knit with a swiftness and 
 evenness that could find no parallel among the youth of to-day. 
 
 The men and women of past generations, in Granby and 
 South Hadley, strong both physically and morally, proved that 
 the old-fashioned bees had not been held in vain. Their com- 
 parative and mutual isolation from the outside world may have 
 accounted in some measure for the social activity of these two 
 towns. Hemmed in on the north by the Holyoke Range, and on 
 the west by the Connecticut, they were bounded on the south 
 partly by the river and partly by a line through, or near, that 
 dreaded lair. Misery Swamp. Upon the east lay a strip of wood- 
 land, broken only by a single cart track, so rough that about 
 1760 the town was indicted for "not keeping in repair the road 
 to Cold Spring." 
 
 In the early years, when Granby and South Hadley were 
 one, this seclusion seemed to make of it a miniature republic. 
 There was no postal service, no stage route to give communica- 
 tion with the outer world. 
 
 Towns in this vicinity received and sent mail but twice a 
 month, for the post-carriers had been allowed nine days in which 
 to travel forty miles with their letters and papers. 
 
38 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Each house here was a small apothecary shop, for in case 
 of illness in the family no doctor could be obtained except by 
 crossing Mt. Holyoke, or, making a wide detour around its base. 
 And if a physician came, he charged for every visit eight times 
 his usual fee. Ministers were at that era expected to bleed their 
 parishioners if necessary, and to be able to administer calomel 
 and other medicines. Parson Woodbridge probably had some 
 medical knowledge, for his eldest son began practice as a physi- 
 cian here in 1765. 
 
 In this community of interests, they were able to build their 
 own houses; manufacture their own clothing; provide their own 
 lighting ; and raise crops which, with the aid of their hunting and 
 fishing, furnished sufficient food for their families. 
 
 The men were all farmers, even to the minister, but most 
 of them had some other occupation. One was a carpenter, an- 
 other a blacksmith, the third a tanner, while the shoemaker, the 
 pumpmaker, and a score of others could meet any emergency. 
 
 Exchange of labor, or as they termed it, "swapping work," 
 and barter, left but few money transactions to be recorded. 
 Their old account books read thus: the carpenter credits John 
 Lane* with a twenty-two pound salmon, five shillings and adds, 
 "John Lane, Dr. to mending your flore, seven shillings." The 
 cobbler debits Joseph Hillyer. "To making and mending shews, 
 3£ dew to me." "In ye yere 1732 to help mak smoak house, 3 
 shil. 6d. " " Credit one fox skin 8 shil. 6d. ' ' 
 
 The first pumpmaker in our town was Ephraim Nash, a 
 man who might .justly have been proud of his lineage since he 
 was a grandson of that eminent divine, Eev. Samuel Stone. He 
 was one of the earliest settlers, coming in 1727, liut apparently 
 found small opportunity for exercising his craft. 
 
 ♦John Lane was a famous athlete, a man of remarkable strength: It is said 
 that he once asked a neighbor for the loan of a large iron kettle. She replied 
 that he was welcome to the use of it, but it was so heavy she feared he could 
 not carry it a long distance. Upon this he swung the kettle up, and placed it 
 upon his head. He then carried it into the woods in order to use it in making 
 maple sugar. He once walked from here to Westminster, Vermont, in a single 
 day, a distance of over sixty miles. He was janitor of our iirst meeting house, 
 sweeping the building with husk brooms, or birch twigs, and on Sunday morn- 
 ings he went through the streets blowing a conch shell to remind people that it 
 was time to assemble at the meeting house. 
 
EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 39 
 
 People remembered the long well-sweeps and old oaken 
 buckets, and distrusted the new invention. But after a time 
 wooden pumps came into use, big, clumsy affairs, with a handle 
 three or four feet long. The spout was a flat piece of wood, with 
 projections upon two sides to prevent the overflow of water, 
 which despite this precaution would spatter to a distance of 
 several feet if the handle were moved quickly or with a jerk. 
 
 The following account of their introduction was given to the 
 author by an aged man, and though there is no definite proof that 
 the incident occurred within our boundaries, it may not be 
 uninteresting as showing the difficulties that Ephraim Nash was 
 obliged to encounter: 
 
 One of the progressive farmers of the town announced that 
 upon a certain day, at nine o'clock in the morning, he would 
 bring up water from his well without the aid of his iron-bound 
 bucket. This promise was treated with derisive merriment, yet 
 at the appointed time a crowd had assembled. They saw only 
 a tall figure, shrouded in white, standing on the edge of the well, 
 and beside it the farmer, who explained that something was 
 wrong. He requested them to retire for half an hour to some 
 place out of view and then return. The crowd departed with 
 mocking laughter and jeering remarks. At the expiration of the 
 time they came again, and saw to their surprise that the owner 
 had divested his new pump of its covering. Lifting the handle 
 he sent a stream of water into the waiting tub. When they had, 
 as the old man said, "sensed it," it seemed to them like witch- 
 craft, and they were quick to ask the owner's pardon for their 
 previous gibes. 
 
 During the last few decades, all, or nearly all, of these old 
 wooden pumps have disappeared from our town. 
 
 Wells played an important part in the household econ- 
 omy, for they assuaged thirst, promoted cleanliness, were the 
 only firewardens, and during the August weather were the most 
 convenient places for the preservation of fresh meat and yeast. 
 These articles were each put into a i^ail and suspended above the 
 surface of the water by a cord which was attached to a small bar 
 near the top of the curb. This rendered it at times a rather in- 
 
40 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 secure refrigerator, for if the cord were old, or carelessly tied, it 
 was liable to drop, letting the pail and its contents fall to the 
 bottom of the well. Lowering a lighted candle, the big, three- 
 pronged well hook, — one of which must be kept in every neigh- 
 borhood, — was now produced, and the subsequent fishing was 
 apt to be a long process. 
 
 Some inventive, or imitative, genius persuaded a few of our 
 leading families to try a new experiment which, it was claimed, 
 would obviate this trouble. An oblong pit was dug in the ground, 
 in a shady place, its sides being stoned like those of a well. In 
 winter this pit was filled with blocks of ice, carefully packed in 
 hay, and thick planks were laid across the top. Over these was 
 placed a roof, not more than seven feet in height at the apex, 
 and slanting sharply to the ground. In one of the gables was a 
 door, and a short ladder always lay beside it ready for use as 
 the season advanced. By the middle, or at most by the last of 
 July, the contents of the pit were all melted. 
 
 A son of one of our early settlers, whose father had removed 
 to Granby, determined to try building an icehouse above ground. 
 This idea was scoffed at by our townsmen. "If ice could not 
 be preserved under ground, it never would remain frozen near 
 the surface, ' ' said they. Paying no heed to this adverse opinion, 
 he proceeded to erect a stout reservoir, more than twelve feet 
 square, and this he banked with earth till one might have ex- 
 pected to see an ancient mound-builder issuing therefrom. 
 
 Over the top of this he placed a one-roomed structure, which 
 was known as the milkhouse or dairy. A trap door in the floor 
 of the latter gave access to the chamber beneath. This icehouse 
 was intended mainly for the preservation of food, since cold 
 water for drinking purposes could be obtained at any hour from 
 the time-honored bucket that hung in the well. A pipe had been 
 so arranged that water could be easily pumped into the tank. As 
 soon as the cold weather of winter had penetrated its thick walls 
 to such a degree that it would freeze water, this huge cistern 
 was flooded, to a depth of two or three inches, which by the next 
 morning would be changed to ice. This process was repeated day 
 by day until the tank was filled with a solid block of ice, twelve 
 
EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 41 
 
 feet square, some part of which remained congealed until the 
 ensuing autumn. 
 
 The South Hadley yeomanry immediately patterned after 
 this new device, but, as they believed, improved upon their model. 
 In building their reservoirs, they inserted a door in the northern 
 wall in order that they might fill it with blocks of ice from the 
 nearest pond. These were obtained by cutting them out with 
 axes or saws, but were so irregular in shape that after being 
 packed great air spaces remained between them. This they 
 remedied by closing up the door and pouring cold water from 
 above till every crevice was filled. This formed a mass of ice 
 that kept tlieir own food and that of their neighbors fresh and 
 sweet through the sultry August weather. 
 
 Improvements in arts and crafts were, at the first, almost 
 wholly dependent upon the skill and ingenuity of the settlers, 
 since their communication with the rest of the world was but 
 limited. Letters and newspapers, which might have been such 
 a solace, were in a great measure denied them. It was not until 
 1792 that a postoffice was established in Northampton, which 
 received and sent out a mail once a week. We know that South 
 Hadley and Granby were allowed to share in its benefits, for in 
 Northampton 's first list of unclaimed letters occurs the name of 
 Joseph Eastman, Granby. During the next decade getting the 
 mail proved to be an arduous undertaking, but on January 1, 
 1803, to the great joy of our inhabitants, a postoffice was estab- 
 lished here, probably bringing the weekly mail on Fridays. The 
 former strictness in regard to Sabbath observance was so far 
 relaxed that on Svmdays the postoffice was opened during the 
 intermission between the morning and afternoon services, in 
 order that those of the congregation who lived in remote neigh- 
 borhoods could get their mail. It was argued that as the laws 
 compelling church attendance under penalty of fine and imprison- 
 ment had been repealed, this would prove an incentive for the 
 worshipers to be present at divine service. 
 
 In 1816 Northampton had three mails a week, and in case of 
 illness or emergency, individuals going from here could obtain 
 their Saturday night 's mail. The inconvenience of this arrange- 
 
42 IN OLD SOUTH HAULEY 
 
 ment is well illustrated by the following extract from an old let- 
 ter: 
 Dear Sister- "South Hadley, Dec. 7, 1808. 
 
 We have been long anxious, very anxious about you. It is 
 bad getting to Northampton; Bachelor's Brook overflows, and 
 there is ice in the river — but we can go over the bridge at Had- 
 ley. 
 
 We sent Horace on Simday after a letter, but he could not 
 get over the river, on account of the wind being very high. In 
 the evening we hired Barber to go, and he rode nearly twenty 
 miles, bro't the letter, got here at eleven o'clock." 
 
 Though the doings of the external world were but slightly 
 known here before the Revolution, that was not the case in re- 
 gard to local happenings. With the aid of social gatherings, the 
 itinerant shoemaker, the school teacher who boarded round, and 
 later on the tailoress and the dressmaker, who made semi-annual 
 visits to each family, but little news remained untold. 
 
 ^he advent of the shoemaker and his bench was hailed with 
 delight by both young and old, for it was a cardinal article of 
 belief that everj' person should have each year a new pair of 
 leather shoes: stout cowhide for the men; calfskin for the 
 women and children. "Wlien the shoemaker came with his 
 wooden lasts, lapstone and the implements of his trade, he estab- 
 lished himself near the big fireplace, in order to use its light to 
 work by in the evenings ; and his favorite ditty was : 
 "There was a cobbler who lived in a coom, 
 And all he wanted was elbow room, elbow room. ' ' 
 He measured the feet of each member of the family, and if he 
 had no last of their exact size, promptly shaped one out of wood. 
 He always expected a pitcher of cider to be placed ready at 
 hand. A certain family once forgot this requirement. Wishing 
 to remind them of it, he tried to soften his request by putting 
 it into rhjTne, and calmly remarked : 
 
 "While here I set, and work and sweat 
 By candle and by fire. 
 My throat grows dry, I can 't deny 
 Some cider I require." 
 
EARLY LIFE IN" SOUTH HADLEY 43 
 
 Upon this the longed-for beverage was at once forthcoming.) 
 The shoes were usually paid for in skins, which required a 
 year's time for tanning into leather; but there was so little 
 money in circulation that even the hired girl 's wages were paid 
 by barter, as witness this extract from an old account book : 
 
 "January, 1770. 
 Elizabeth Lemon came Frydey night, Jan. 5, and tarried til 
 Saterday noon. May 5, save two days. 
 
 She hed two pair of shoes $1.98 
 
 2 second-hand quilts (agreed) 98 
 
 41/2 yards of shallon 2.00 
 
 Money 2.00 
 
 Shoes mended several times 20 
 
 A Portion of Species Hiera Cure 20 
 
 A check 'd Linnen Apron (agreed) 50 
 
 Six coppers to balance 52 
 
 $8.38" 
 
 A servant girl's wages at this era averaged from fifty to 
 seventy-five cents per week, but she was never called a servant ; 
 she was known as the help, or as one of our later ministers 
 dubbed her, "my wife's domestic coadjutor." 
 
 This scarcity of money gave rise to many inconveniences, 
 and among them may be numbered the dearth of h>Tnn books in 
 the Sunday services of song. This compelled the "lining out" 
 of the stanzas. Either a deacon or the precentor read the first 
 line and the congregation then sang it, and each line was fol- 
 lowed in the same manner to the end of the hymn. 
 
 The old tuning fork which set the pitch was found in the 
 garret of the old Woodbridge House. 
 
 It was an old saying that a good singer could marry any 
 woman that he pleased ; or, as an English poet expressed it : 
 "A blockhead of melodious voice 
 In boarding schools can take his choice." 
 
 In providing good music for the sanctuary, South Hadley 
 antedated many of the surrounding towns. In 1765 John Stick- 
 ney brought to this vicinity new methods and tunes for singers. 
 
44 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Nathaniel White was at this time a lad of sixteen, while his 
 brother Ezekiel was five years younger. Both boys became so 
 deeply interested that the elder one afterwards taught a singing 
 school for twenty-six seasons, and the younger supplied his 
 brother's place, it is believed, during the latter 's absence in 
 the army. John Stickney, too, was so much pleased at his cor- 
 dial reception here, that he eventually made this town his home, 
 and the committee in charge of seating the people in church as- 
 signed him a place in a big, square pew with two widows, one 
 of whom he is said to have married. 
 
 There had been another teacher of singing, Josiah Draper, 
 the Fall Woods' schoolmaster, but his lack of patience disquali- 
 fied him for this office. He was very nervous and if a pupil 
 failed in keeping exact time it put him in a passion, and his 
 penalties were severe. He was precentor in 1777, and judging 
 from his diary, the number of tunes with which he had become 
 acquainted was for those days surprisingly great. 
 
 These three men, officered doubtless by John Stickney, had 
 brought about a great change in our Sunday services. There 
 had been a determined effort on the part of the young people to 
 do away with the "lining out" of the hjrmns and to have the 
 singing conducted by a choir, who should occupy the gallery op- 
 posite the pulpit. This proposal had awakened a fierce storm 
 of opposition on the part of the older members of the congre- 
 gation, who declared they would not attend church under such 
 circumstances. They protested against the extravagance of 
 paying so much for new singing books, and were sure that it 
 would be an entering wedge for the introduction of wooden and 
 brass musical instruments into the meeting house, as indeed 
 proved true. Their ancestors, they said, had come hither to 
 avoid the set forms of prayer used in the Church of England, 
 but now if they began to sing by rule they would soon pray by 
 rule. 
 
 Everyone had been taught six times, three for the forenoon 
 and three for the afternoon service, and anything more was 
 simply superfluous. 
 
 Feeling ran so high in this and adjacent towns, that one 
 
EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 45 
 
 minister complained of a certain ijarishioner, who refused to re- 
 turn his salutation when they met, and entered in his diary, — 
 "Several of my neighbors seemed very uneasy about the sing- 
 ing, some, I fear, kept from meeting upon this account. Lord 
 help and direct! Compose their minds that are ruffled! Oh, 
 chain up Satan! Forgive and direct me." 
 
 Tradition tells us that the first concession in South Hadley, 
 was the omitting to line out the closing hymn on Sunday after- 
 noon, permission to retire from the house having first been given 
 to those who did not wish to listen to the choir. This arrange- 
 ment did not satisfy either party It seemed to detract from the 
 sanctity of worship to see a part of the congregation rise and 
 file out with flashing eyes and angry stepc. The exciting events 
 that culminated in the battle of Lexington, br'^nght our town 
 into greater contact with the outside world, and a broader vision 
 of the future opened before them. In 1776 the whole of ihe after- 
 noon service, as far as the music was concerned, was given iiT) to 
 the choir, and no longer could the sonorous voice of Josiah 
 Draper ring out the words of his old-fashioned Psalm— 
 
 "My soul gave me a sudden twitch. 
 
 That made me nimbly slide. 
 Like unto the chariot in which 
 Amminadab did ride." 
 
 With the advent of Dr. G. W. Lucas as the singing master, a 
 new and varied list of tunes was introduced. He was a very 
 tall man, of gentlemanly bearing, and polished speech. The 
 singing schools were held in our old Mount Tom Academy, and 
 he was often annoyed by the older boys who lingered near the 
 fire after the hour for opening had arrived. One evening he said 
 to them, "If those who have imbibed a sufficient degree of caloric 
 will approximate to their seats, we can begin." Awed by the 
 mingled dignity and length of words, the shivering youths 
 obeyed. 
 
 After the national and state quarrels had been settled, a 
 musical war arose in South Hadley. The choir had been ar- 
 ranged according to their rank, the best singer being placed at 
 
46 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 the head of the line, and the poorest at the foot. This gave rise 
 to much bitterness and jealousy. One of the leading sopranos, 
 who was angry because the minister's daughter had been seated 
 above her, said rudely: "Who are you, anyway? Your father 
 is supported by the town." In one family the eldest daughter 
 had won tlie highest place at the head of the choir, while her 
 sister was number three. As they had but one book between 
 them, and wished to look it over together, they asked number two 
 to change places with the younger sister. This she promptly re- 
 fused to do, but offered to exchange with the elder one. The 
 trouble increased as others to^L sides in the affair, and the mat- 
 ter was finally referred to the minister for settlement. After 
 mature deliberation, he decided that number two should sit at 
 the head of the choir half of the time, but upon every alternate 
 Sabbath should take her place as third, bringing the two sisters 
 side by side at each service, and thus was harmony restored. 
 
 These bickerings were done away with in 1835, when Mr. 
 Dexter Ingraham was made chorister. He arranged his singers 
 in the order of their ages, and remembering the old adage. 
 "AVhere McGregor sits, that is the head of the table," he taught 
 them that where the best singer sat would be the real head of 
 the choir. He was a man whose heart was fully given to music, 
 and for twenty-five years imparted his enthusiasm to his fellow 
 musicians. He was succeeded, at his own request, by Mr. Wil- 
 liam Smith, whose gentleness and tact kept the chorus of sixty 
 voices united and peaceful for another quarter of a century. 
 This chorus was led by an orchestra consisting of the large 
 and the small bass viols, three violins, a bassoon, and a corno- 
 peian, aided by the soft notes of a flute played by John Dwight, 
 the donor of the art gallery. 
 
 Deacon Hastings, for so many years the efficient superin- 
 tendent of our Sunday School, presided over the big bass-viol, 
 and Mr. Norman Preston, so highly respected and loved both as 
 school teacher and "committeeman," was one of the violinists. 
 It was not he, however, who went to the minister for permission 
 to exchange the lines in the hymn book — 
 
EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 47 
 
 ' ' Oh, may my heart in tune be found 
 Like David's harp of solemn sound." 
 
 and sing in their stead, 
 
 "Oh, may my heart be tuned within 
 Like David's solemn violin." 
 
 Our grandfathers used to tell us that the irate parson returned 
 with ready satire, "Fine as your version is, Brother, I think I 
 can suggest a better. How would it do to sing — 
 
 "Oh, may my heart go diddle, diddle. 
 Like Uncle David's sacred fiddle." 
 
 Whether in South Hadley or not, the incident actually occurred. J 
 
 There had been some opposition at first on the part of the 
 ministers to admitting so much instrumental music. One of our 
 pastors, who had no ear for the "Concord of Sweet Sounds," 
 happened to come to church early one Simday morning, while 
 the orchestra were turning their instruments. As soon as the 
 service was concluded, he hastened to the gallery stairs, in order 
 to meet the players on their way out, and informed them in a 
 severe tone that he wanted no more dance music in his church. 
 Another clergyman, not of our town, when the musicians sat 
 down at the close of the anthem, opened his Bible at the twen- 
 tieth chapter of Acts, and slowly began reading, — "And after 
 the uproar was ceased ," there was a perceptible pause be- 
 fore he finished the verse. 
 
 The Psalms and Hjonns of Isaac Watts had now come into 
 use, and so great was their iiopularity here and elsewhere that 
 at the middle of the nineteenth century the publishers sold an- 
 nually over fifty thousand copies, which was for those times a 
 wonderful record. 
 
CHAPTER FOURTH 
 
 FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 
 
 OUR first minister, having been for years a successful 
 teacher, it is not to be wondered at that even before the 
 completion of the meeting house, a school building was 
 in course of erection, upon the site now occupied by the dental 
 office of Dr. Preston. 
 
 There must have been a school previous to this, and it is not 
 impossible that our ancestors returned to the old English custom 
 of having it kept in the minister's house, for the living room in 
 our first parsonage was twenty-five feet long and twenty feet in 
 width, and the fuel to heat it was supplied by the parish. It is 
 a fact worthy of notice that the precinct did not vote to build a 
 schoolhouse until about the time of Rev. Grindall Rawson's 
 marriage, so that during his preceding years of loneliness he 
 may have gladly welcomed the children of his parishioners. The 
 schoolhouse when completed contained but one room. Across 
 its southern side yawned an immense fireplace, nearly five feet 
 deep and wide enough to take in logs eight or ten feet long. 
 
 In order to sustain the winter fire, each boy — girls were not 
 allowed to attend the public schools at this era — was expected 
 to furnish a cord of wood ; and if any careless or neglectful par- 
 ent failed to centribute his quota, his unhappy son was straight- 
 way "sent to Coventry." This phrase meant that his fellows 
 would neither speak to nor play with him, and that he would be 
 scoffed at and jeered till the desired wood was forthcoming. 
 
 The entire frontage of the schoolhouse was twenty-three 
 feet, five of which were used in enclosing the rough chimney 
 built of stones and hand-made bricks. Beneath the schoolroom 
 was a cellar, a rare thing in South Hadley in those days, — but it 
 had been excavated simply as a place of retreat in case of Indian 
 attack. By means of an underground tunnel, it was connected 
 with the cellar of the Woodbridge parsonage just across the 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 49 
 
 street. Miss Nancy Burr, who taught in 1821, said that on 
 rainy days the children often amused themselves by creeping 
 in and out of the tunnel ; but now the earth has fallen in, and no 
 trace of it remains. 
 
 Around the sides of the room not occupied by the fireplace 
 two series of boards were fastened to the wall, one above the 
 other, a few inches apart. These served as desks to hold their 
 scanty books and present a hard surface upon which they could 
 use their quill pens in ciphering; for at that time slates and 
 lead pencils were still unknown, and paper was so scarce and 
 expensive that some of our ancestors used to "do their sums" 
 with a sharp-pointed stick in the smooth sand outside — for our 
 village center was at first known only as Sand Hill. 
 
 For such pupils as were rich enough to atford paper, a wild 
 goose must be shot in order to provide pens, and it was not the 
 quills surmounted with long, handsome feathers that were in 
 request, but those that were short and stubby; and the art of 
 making them into pens was taught in our schools. A clay ink- 
 stand in use here in 1740 has four apertures besides the inkwell, 
 evidently intended to hold the quills which were thus at hand in 
 case of breakage. 
 
 Their ink was prepared by boiling the bark from an oak 
 tree or a hard maple for several days, adding a little sugar to 
 the decoction in order to give the writing a glossy appearance. 
 
 This unfading ink has preserved for us the records, diaries 
 and account books of our early settlers, which after one hundred 
 and eighty years are still legible. 
 
 Another process by which ink was manufactured was as fol- 
 lows : Green peelings of walnuts were soaked in rain water for 
 a fortnight; "Stir it pretty often," said the rule. To a quart of 
 this solution, carefully strained, was added four ounces of oak 
 galls, two ounces of gum arable, and in order to prevent it from 
 molding, a little salt. The receipt concludes thus: "Let these 
 ingredients stand together in a large stone bottle; shake, roll, 
 or stir it well once each day, and in a month's time you will have 
 excellent ink." 
 
 In our primitive schoolroom, long benches made of plank 
 
50 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 extended in front of the rude desks, and upon these forms were 
 seated the pupils, facing the wall, and with their backs toward 
 the master. He, within the hollow square thus formed, kept, or 
 at least attempted to keep, good order. If he caught sight of a 
 boy whispering, playing, or grossly inattentive to his books, the 
 ruler was thrown with unerring precision, and the detected 
 culprit was then ordered to bring the ferrule back. Upon re- 
 turning it he was sternly directed to hold out his hand, and the 
 number and severity of the blows was in proportion to the 
 gravity of the offense. 
 
 The boys were expected to learn reading, writing, and the 
 rudiments of arithmetic. As to spelling, the orthography of 
 our ancient records would indicate that this branch of learning 
 received but scant attention. Thus the name of Timothy Hillyer — 
 in whose honor one of the peaks of Mt. Holyoke was christened 
 Hilliard's Knob — was spelled in the old deeds in seven different 
 ways. Even the teachers grew careless; a chair became a 
 "cheer" upon which to "set" down; till at last a town official in 
 hiring a new schoolmaster adjured him to be "Pertickler about 
 the pronounce-ation of his words." 
 
 A would-be instructor of youth advertising in our county 
 paper, placed among his list of qualifications, "I teaches gografy, 
 and all them outlandish things." In order to understand the 
 full significance of this remark, it would be necessary to read 
 one of the old geographies brought to South Hadley by Ephraim 
 Nash, and others, a few extracts from which are subjoined. 
 
 "There grows in some part of Russia, a strange sort of 
 melon called Boranetz (i. e., the Little Lamb). In figure it re- 
 sembles a lamb, and such is its vegetable heat that it consumes 
 and eats up all the grass, or rather herbs, within its reach. As 
 the fruit doth ripen, the stalk decays, and is covered with a sub- 
 stance exactly the same with wool. A part of the skin of this 
 remarkable plant is to be seen in the King of Denmark's public 
 repository of rarities at Copenhagen. Many of the Muscovites 
 use the skin of this rare vegetable instead of furs for lining of 
 their vests." 
 
 "Take a native Spaniard, strip him of his good qualities 
 
Mui/nfMj(3A'rjoN. 
 
 Susan, licm iiiurh IS huiiic^\j>> Ins 30. 
 Herause 9, muliipiici Ij. l-.iiiakes 30'. 
 
 THK RTiniJIKNTS OF AKITHMETIC 
 
FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 51 
 
 (which may be quickly done), that person then remaining will 
 be a complete Portuguese." 
 
 "In Germany, near St. Omers, is a large lake in which are 
 divers floating islands, most of them inhabited, and movable by 
 ropes tied to strong poles, fixed fast in the ground." 
 
 "There is a certain European island the northernmost part 
 whereof doth frequently alter its longitude and latitude." 
 
 In summer time the older boys worked on the farm, while 
 the girls and younger children were expected to attend a dame 
 school, taught by a woman, or by a superannuated schoolmaster, 
 unable, on account of age or infirmity, to manage boys. 
 
 The town, with unusual liberality, allowed some of the public 
 money to be exijended in pajTuent of these teachers. Here the 
 children were taught to knit, sew, and to read short words. The 
 older girls learned to read the Bible, recite the catechism, and 
 possibly to embroider samplers. Some of them were instructed 
 in the art of writing. But the latter class were sadly in the mi- 
 nority. 
 
 A part of the dame schools were intended only for children, 
 and were often taught by illiterate women, skilled, perhaps, in 
 the art of amusing the young. We read that Tom's aunt, on a 
 certain occasion, "Deposed verbatim, that the sade Tomme had 
 been under her tuishuon laste summer, and had always behaved 
 as a good skolur ote to du ; and she never had ketched him in a 
 ly, or fib, in her lyfe." 
 
 The following description of a dame school is derived, in 
 part, from an old story edited by a schoolmaster, many years 
 ago: 
 
 Imagine a little story-and-a-half house, its rear roof sloping 
 almost to the ground, and over whose unpaneled door hangs a 
 signboard. Here were daily gathered the boys and girls of the 
 neighborhood; little tots that needed to be carried over the 
 rough places in the road, up to children nine or ten years of age. 
 
 The dame sat in a high-backed chair, her throne of state, 
 since she believed herself a model of social preeminence, for did 
 she not rank, next to the minister's wife, as the first lady in the 
 village? Towering above her head rose the crown of her tall 
 
52 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 mob cap, hiding thus the gray hair which proclaimed her three- 
 score years. A snowy kerchief was pinned closely about her 
 neck, and a white apron, trimmed upon three sides with a deep 
 rufHe, concealed a part of her linen gown. At her side hung the 
 indispensable work-pocket, containing strings with which to tie 
 the hands of naughty children behind them, soft bandages for 
 youthful hurts, and divers other articles that might be needed. 
 Beside her stood a little carved table, upon which lay a nicely- 
 trimmed birch rod. Every Monday morning the floor was 
 spread with clean sand, and a fresh rod provided; for it was 
 expected that the good dame would wear out at least one a 
 week while keeping her little flock in order. The bare shoulders 
 and feet of her pupils afforded an open field for chastisement, 
 but oftentimes a threat of punishment was sufficient. If she 
 caught a girl chewing the corners of her primer, she took up the 
 rod with an "I'll teach you to munch your book as a rabbit 
 does clover." But the tears and promises of the culprit gener- 
 ally availed, and the sentence was commuted to a sharp rebuke. 
 
 Even the very little children were taught to knit stockings, 
 and up to seventy years ago, it was considered that the proper 
 penalty for dropping stitches was to have the ears snapped with 
 a thimble, or "finger hat," once for each stitch. But the dame 
 was not always finding fault. There were times when her smile 
 was so sweet that "Every little child's heart grew happy at 
 seeing it." 
 
 There was a great cupboard in one corner, where the books 
 and work were kept. Into the bottom of this the infant class 
 crept, when the dame was not looking that way, and here they 
 "whispered and twittered like a nest of young wrens." 
 
 Though it was then looked upon as far beneath the dignity 
 of a schoolmistress to reason with her pupils in regard to bad 
 conduct, yet the kindergartens of to-day will do well if they train 
 up such strong and sterling men and women as came forth from 
 that old oaken door, wreathed round with morning-glories, and 
 crowned with the modest sign : 
 
FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 53 
 
 DAME SCHOOL. 
 
 CHILDEEX TAUGHT TO BEAD. 
 
 Previous to 1760 edueation seems to have made but slight 
 progress in our town. Schoolmasters were hard to find, and we 
 hear of their being "entreated" to come. Men who were college 
 graduates, and had made teaching a profession, were in great 
 demand, and were often employed up to extreme old age. One 
 of these early schoolmasters was the town's first pauper. 
 Samuel Mighill was the son of a minister. Graduating from 
 Harvard at the age of nineteen, he came to Hadley during the 
 following year, and was installed as master of the Hopkins 
 Grammar School. Here he fell in love with a young woman, five 
 years older than himself, whom he subsequently married. He 
 removed to Connecticut, where he taught school for twenty-two 
 years. At the expiration of this time, his heart turned once more 
 to Massachusetts, and, deserting his second wife, he returned to 
 Hadley, from whence he moved to Amherst, and eventually to 
 South Hadley, coming here, probably, about the time when the 
 precinct first voted to hire a schoolmaster. Some years later 
 he made a public complaint that he " a Master of Arts, although 
 still able to teach a small school, of late, people had refused to 
 employ him in that business." He was now seventy-four years 
 old, and his disposition, never perhaps of the best, may not have 
 improved with age. 
 
 The selectmen sent the constable. Deacon David Nash, to 
 warn him that he must "depart and leave this district of South 
 Hadley," lest he become a public burden. This was an insult 
 not to be tolerated, and in November, 1759, Master Mighill sent 
 to the court at Northampton a humble and pious letter, asking 
 their advice in honeyed phrases, and praying that their worships 
 and the honorable court "would consider his helpless and needy 
 circumstances, and make such order for his relief and support as 
 to law and justice belong." 
 
 Now, the court had complete jiirisdiction in such cases ; the 
 law empowered magistrates to dispose of paupers, "into such 
 towns as they shall judge to be most fit for the maintenance and 
 
54 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 employment of such persons and families, for the ease of this 
 country." 
 
 Master Mighill's crafty appeal was not lost upon the court. 
 The judge promptly decreed that this district should provide 
 relief and support for him as long as he chose to remain a resi- 
 dent of the town. He continued to live here, at public expense, 
 until his death, which occurred ten years later. 
 
 A few months after Mighill's successful appeal, South Had- 
 ley was once more summoned before the court, this time upon 
 the unaccountable charge of having failed to keep a grammar 
 school the preceding year. 
 
 The law of the commonwealth required that every town 
 which contained a hundred families should have a school that 
 would fit for college. But in a district like South Hadley, which 
 at that time included 24,000 acres of land, and whose opposite 
 boundaries were from six to ten miles apart, it would manifestly 
 be impossible to collect all the pupils at one place, especially as our 
 present smooth roads were then but bridle paths, or rough cart- 
 tracks. The school had therefore been kept in rotation, two 
 months at South Hadley Center, two at Falls Woods, and two at 
 the inn of Deacon John Smith, which stood on the site after- 
 wards occupied by the residence of the late Mr. Frank Taylor, 
 in West Parish, now a part of Granby. 
 
 The selectmen of 1760 had been very fortunate in their 
 choice of an instructor for that year. Josiah Pierce had taught 
 for twelve years in the Hopkins school at Hadley; he could read 
 both Latin and Greek, and even preach a sermon if occasion re- 
 quired. He was as good a farmer as teacher, and appears to 
 have been the means of introducing the use of potatoes as an 
 article of food among our forefathers, whose old account books 
 show that in 1762 the price here was three dollars a bushel, and 
 the largest amount taken by any one customer was two pecks. 
 In the evenings, Master Pierce, who was said to have been a 
 good "arithmeticker," had a class in ciphering. This may have 
 been necessary from the fact that some of the older boys were 
 required to work at home during a part of the day ; but another 
 reason existed: the old arithmetics were but a brief collection 
 
We have twelve to suppei',\ve rn list divide 
 this cake into 12 parts or Fractions. 
 
 TEACHING AlUTHMETIl 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 55 
 
 of rules, often with only one example given under each, so that 
 the instructor was obliged to compose his own sums, or prob- 
 lems, the copying and explanation of which required time, 
 especially the Golden Eule, as the rule of three in proportion 
 was then termed. 
 
 In order that no infraction of law should go unpunished, 
 Massachusetts had established a system of government well 
 calculated to develop a generation of spies. When a crime was 
 committed, he who reported it to the court received from one- 
 third to one-half of the fine. In the present case against South 
 Hadley the informer was the famous, or rather infamous, Joseph 
 Ashley, whose name was to the populace as the red flag of the 
 matador. 
 
 At the opening of the court in February, 1761, the town's 
 attorney, Hon. Charles Phelps, of Hadley, stated the facts in the 
 case, with such a pleasing humility that the judge summarily 
 ordered the indictment to be quashed. So the discomfited Joseph 
 went home minus even his ferriage, to the great joy of his fellow 
 citizens. He, however, continued in his role of informer with 
 varying success, until he was driven from the place, at the break- 
 ing out of the Revolutionary war. 
 
 Josiah Draper was the next teacher to leave us a record of 
 his personal experiences, not in an interleaved almanac, like 
 that of Master Pierce, but on the stout sermon paper in use 
 among ministers of that day. His character was one of strange 
 contradictions; at one moment generous to a fault; at another, 
 close and calculating. He was an ardent patriot, ready to do 
 or suffer anything for his country ; yet upon the younger genera- 
 tion, his punishments were so severe that he put even the Middle 
 Ages to the blush. He was a constant attendant at church; as 
 chorister, he set the tunes with his ancient pitch-pipe; and as 
 precentor, he lined out the hymns as they were sung. 
 
 Yet this same leader among men, after long years of service, 
 was finally deprived of his office, because his habits of intemper- 
 ance were past all enduring. One instance of his severity when 
 under the influence of liquor was long remembered among his 
 pupils. It was a bitterly cold day ; so much of the heat went up 
 
56 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 the wide chimney that those who sat at the rear of the school- 
 room said that their numbed fingers could hardly hold their 
 books. Thej^ asked permission to go to the fire. "Yes," answered 
 Master Draper, grimly, "and I will make you warm enough to 
 last all winter." He placed them in a row across the front of 
 the fireplace, and piled on logs till the flames roared up the 
 chimney. He allowed no one to step back, but kept them in that 
 scorching heat till both faces and hands were blistered. The 
 narrator of this incident added significantly, "No one asked to 
 go to the fire again that winter." 
 
 A true account of the brutalities that passed unnoticed in 
 this old schoolhouse would seem hardly credible to the reader of 
 to-day. It was an era of whipping, and every time a new master 
 was hired, he was expected to enter the schoolroom on the day 
 of opening with a large bundle of hazel rods under his arm (the 
 latter shrub being considered a more efficacious means of disci- 
 pline than birch), and carrying in his hand a hardwood ferrule. 
 In the eighteenth century flogging was looked upon as the natu- 
 ral penalty of crime ; and in the Eevolutionary Army, desertion, 
 stealing, and like misdemeanors, were almost invariably pun- 
 ished in this manner. 
 
 Within the first week of the term there generally ensued a 
 battle royal between the new pedagogue and the ringleader of 
 the boys. If the former failed of being conqueror, his stay would 
 be but brief. One of our old masters thus addressed his school: 
 "Boys, there is one thing I cannot have, and I will not have; it 
 is NOISE!" and he thumped the desk lustily with his fist. He 
 was a man of great muscular strength, but lacking in that moral 
 force which is so essential to success. 
 
 On the third day, while the boys were walking around the 
 room, talking aloud, and jumping from the windows, two town 
 officials came in and dismissed the new master. Not so was Mr. 
 W., who lived in town, working during the summer and teach- 
 ing winters. If he caught one of his pupils whispering he was 
 wont to remark, sardonically, that he knew of but one remedy, 
 and that was red paint applied to the inside of the hand; and 
 the ruler was then brought into requisition. 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 57 
 
 One of the later teachers, Mr. C, invented a cruel punish- 
 ment of his own. Placing a lead pencil between two fingers, he 
 held them firmly together while he twisted the pencil round and 
 round. This soon brought the most stubborn to their knees. 
 The result, however, was that the boys rose en masse, and bring- 
 ing in wood blocked him from the schoolroom, which he never 
 entered again. 
 
 But the masters were not all like this: there were men of 
 dignity and worth, whose names were deeply graven in those 
 little halls of fame that always find a lodgment in every human 
 heart. 
 
 Josiah Draper, in spite of his severity, continued to teach 
 school for many years, the town, as was customary, giving him 
 a piece of land. This was situated in Falls Woods, and here, in 
 the summer time, he raised corn, and subsequently built himself a 
 house. But in winter, while teaching, he still preferred "board- 
 ing 'round, a week in each family," as he says in his diary. This 
 meant that he would be the honored guest in a succession of 
 visits; would sleep amid the linen-crested billows of the best 
 feather bed, and would partake of the choicest viands the house 
 could afford. If any family, through poverty or ill will, did not 
 wish to receive him, their names would be placed at the end of 
 the list, and would not be reached until it was time for the term 
 to close. 
 
 Should there chance to be in any neighborhood a house that 
 was noted for its poor cookery and meager fare, where the brass 
 warming-pan never removed the chill that lurked beneath the 
 canopied splendor of the four-poster, then the kindly neighbors 
 vied with one another in sending invitations to the unfortunate 
 teacher, so that without too much discomfort the week would 
 come to an end. 
 
 And South Hadley was kind. Even poor old Samuel Mighill, 
 in his letter to the court, spoke of the "charity, humanity, and 
 benevolence," of its citizens. 
 
 Boarding 'round was not always an unmixed joy, especially 
 in summer, when the schools were taught by young women. It 
 is not agreeable to be continuously in the lime-light, as was one 
 
58 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 of the South Hadley girls, who wrote thus of her introduction to 
 a new boarding place : ' ' Opening the door, I beheld the whole 
 family ranged against the wall in the exact order of their 
 height, and looking like a pair of stairs. The mother stepped 
 forward and said, 'Children, this is the Marm, and I want you 
 to watch her, and do jest as she does, and talk jest as she talks, 
 so as to grow up pooty ladies.' There was no place in which I 
 could remove the dust of my day's work except the woodshed. 
 Here, upon a wooden bench, stood a tin dipper and a dish of 
 soft soap, also a coarse towel, upon which all the family had 
 dried their faces and hands. 'Mabbe you'd like to wash,' sug- 
 gested Mrs. H. At supper, platters of meat, potatoes, and 
 bread, garnished the center of the table. As soon as the bless- 
 ing had been asked, the children speared these articles with won- 
 derful dexterity, and consumed their food with such rapidity 
 that they were nearly half through before I was ready to begin 
 my repast. It was all so new and strange that, though I went 
 early to bed, I could not sleep. Presently through the thinly- 
 boarded walls of my chamber I heard the voice of one of my 
 pupils, praying. He said: '0 God, please to keep all houses 
 from burning down to-night; and, God, please to specially 
 keep our house from burning down to-night, cause the Marm 
 is here.' Then, soothed and comforted, I fell into such a sound 
 sleep that I did not waken until cockcrow in the morning." 
 There were some teachers who needed not the usual injunction 
 to "Make yerself to hum." Miss Mary N. one day called to 
 her desk a boy with whose widowed mother she was then board- 
 ing. He received what she called ' ' a good f erruling, ' ' he mean- 
 while having no idea for what crime he was being punished. 
 "There!" she said, when she had finished, "now we'll see 
 whether you will make up faces at your mother the next time 
 she tells you you are to have hasty pudding and milk for break- 
 fast." 
 
 Holding down a nail in the floor, balancing books on the 
 extended arm, and other old-fashioned methods of punishment, 
 remained in force during the winter schools until nearly the 
 middle of the nineteenth century. But after 1820, both boys 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLF.GE 59 
 
 and girls were admitted to the public schools at all seasons, and 
 a much milder form of discipline prevailed in the summer time. 
 Then if a boy whispered he was sent to sit with some good girl, 
 whose example would be beneficial. 
 
 Miss T., who taught in Moody Corner, had a variation of 
 this method which seems to have been all her own. If a boy and 
 girl were caught playing in school time, the right arm of the one 
 was bound firmly to the left arm of the other ; the pair were then 
 directed to knock at the door and show themselves to the resi- 
 dents of three neighboring houses, the teacher, doubtless, watch- 
 ing them from the window to see that her orders were carried 
 out. 
 
 The Dunce Block was intended for the indolent and stupid, 
 rather than for the mischievous pupil. A section of log, about 
 two feet long, was made smooth at both ends and placed up- 
 right upon the floor. Upon this the delinquent was obliged to 
 stand, wearing upon his or her head a tall, pointed cap of white 
 paper, with the word DUNCE printed in large capitals across 
 the front. 
 
 Some of our old teachers prayed with their pupils before 
 whipping them. But even these orisons were less dreaded than 
 the old-time punishment of "sitting in a whig chair." This was 
 never used except in connection with the oldest and most turbu- 
 lent boys; for, as the offender was compelled to assume a sit- 
 ting position with nothing to sustain his weight, the crouching 
 attitude was soon productive of severe cramps, impossible to 
 be borne. 
 
 In looking backward, it must be remembered that the status 
 of the teacher in those times was far different from that of the 
 present. Then each school was a miniature kingdom, and the 
 master, who chose to play the despot, found few to dispute his 
 sway. 
 
 Occasionally some teacher tried to dispense with rod and 
 ferrule. The experience of one such master was given in the 
 newspapers of that day. He attempted to lead his pupils to the 
 right by reasoning with them. This failing, he tried to drive 
 them through a sense of shame ; then he thought by praising to 
 
GO IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 flatter them into ■well-doing, till lie had "coaxed away his own 
 authority." 
 
 Now there chanced to be in the school a yonth whose too- 
 indulgent mother had forewarned the master that her son was 
 not to be corrected. This boy had begun to "throw down books, 
 and huff out 'wills' and 'won'ts' with much emphasis." In 
 despair, the master gave him one blow, upon which the boy 
 kicked him and ran crying to his mother, who told him his 
 teacher was a cruel blockhead. She immediately summoned 
 her husband and bade him go and turn the master out of the 
 school. He had but little liking for the task ; his wife, however, 
 who wore the purple in that household, insisted. A meeting was 
 held, and the neighbors came in to express their approbation of 
 the instructor; but the mother continued to "huff and ding at 
 those who espoused the cause of the master, calling their chil- 
 dren beggars, liars, and ill-bred scullions." Quarrels ensued, 
 and the article closed with a sneer at the man who was "Under 
 the control of what some call Ribocracy." 
 
 Methods of instruction, as well as those of discipline, 
 changed with the passing years. The arithmetic of 1760 arro- 
 gated to itself a supreme place in the schoolroom, claiming to 
 be the basis of all arts, and therefore it ought to be understood 
 "before other branches were meddled with." The most minute 
 details were given in regard to its different subjects. The first 
 unit of weight, it informed us, was "A corn of wheat, gathered 
 out of the middle of the ear, and well dried." Thirty-two of these 
 were supposed to equal the weight of a penny. Later the num- 
 ber was reduced to twenty-four, and as the expression had 
 changed to "grains of wheat," the table began, "Twenty-four 
 grains make one penny-weight." ^Problems in arithmetic were 
 also expected to do their part toward the moral as well as men- 
 tal improvement of the pupils, as: "A gentleman told his son 
 if he would be a good boy and attend closely to his school, he 
 should have oue-half of the chickens, one-third of the turkeys, 
 and one-fifth of the goslings that should be hatched that year. 
 The number of turkeys was three times the number of goslings, 
 and the number of the goslings was one-half the number of 
 
FIJOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLI':(iE 61 
 
 cbickeus hatched by five hens, setting on twelve eggs each. When 
 they had grown, the boy carried his part to market and received 
 fifty cents each for his turkeys, twenty cents for his chickens, 
 and two shillings for his geese. Can you tell me how much he 
 gained by being a good boy, besides the approbation of his 
 parents and the im^Drovement he had made at school?" 
 
 Copy books, too, were supposed to inculcate lessons of wis- 
 dom. The oldest writing book to be found in South Hadley was 
 brought here probably bj" one of the first settlers as a relic of 
 his schooldays. The copy set on May 24, 1708, was: "Enter 
 no serious Friendship with the mutilogonous man, for he can- 
 not keep thy counsel." 
 
 After the rhyming fever developed itself in this region, 
 such copies as this were used: 
 
 "Your delight and your care 
 Will make you write fair." 
 or 
 
 "If you would live in peace and rest. 
 
 You must hear, and see, and say the best."'^ 
 
 For nearly a century our schools were both opened and 
 closed with reading the Scriptures and prayer, and it was looked 
 upon as a most disgraceful punishment when a pupil was re- 
 quired to stand beside the master and face the school during 
 the concluding exercises. 
 
 J. W. Tuck, afterwards the Congregational minister at 
 Ludlow, may have been the last to continue this practice, for 
 al)out 1840 the recitation of Bible verses was substituted in 
 place of the closing devotions. 
 
 Mr. Tuck had been the pupil of the famous Miss N., of 
 whom mention has previously been made, and of whom it used to 
 be said that she whipped wisdom into her pupils, using the rod 
 in moderation if she thought that would do, but unsparingly if 
 she considered it necessary. But the gentle firmness of Mr. 
 Tuck won both the respect and good-will of all about him, and 
 it was only upon rare occasions that he found it necessary to 
 call in the service of Doctor Birch. He taught in the small 
 
62 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 schoolhouse, now used as a dwelling, on the east side of Am- 
 herst Street, a little south of Bittersweet Lane. This building, 
 erected about 1816, furnished a good illustration of the second 
 period of schoolhouse architecture. 
 
 Around three sides of the room, a long bench was fastened 
 to the wall, with an elevated platform beneath it ; this was known 
 as the Backseat, and was intended for the older pupils. In 
 front of it were three tiers of desks and seats, each of the latter 
 being a step lower than the one behind it, so that the aisles 
 were like a little pair of stairs. Upon the east side stood the 
 fireplace and a door opening into the entry. But before the ad- 
 vent of Mr. Tuck the room had been modernized ; the desks 
 placed in rows upon a level floor and all facing the same way, and 
 the fireplace exchanged for a large box stove. 
 
 The children and youth from Moody Corner and Pearl City, 
 joined to those of "District Number Four," formed a school of 
 from sixty to seventy pupils of all ages, from the ABCdarians 
 to the stalwart boy already almost out of his teens. It was obvi- 
 ously impossible for one teacher to hear such a multiplicity of 
 recitations, and Mr. Tuck appointed two of the older girls as 
 monitors, Clara Montague and Irene Moody, who assisted him 
 by teaching the younger classes. Then the old, old story, so 
 new and wonderful to every passing generation, repeated itself, 
 and two days before his installation at Ludlow, Mr. Tuck and 
 Irene Moody were married. There was one brief year of happi- 
 ness, then she sailed out over the Unknown Sea, on the return- 
 less voyage that awaits us all. 
 
 Mr. Tuck, like other old masters, inculcated a deep respect 
 for the ministry. Massachusetts had passed a law, some years 
 before, making it obligatory for the ministers to visit the schools. 
 Mr. Condit did this, and whenever he passed the schoolhouse 
 during the recess or noon intermission, he beheld what in our 
 day would be an unaccustomed sight. No sooner did his one- 
 horse shay appear at the head of the street than all the games 
 ceased. The boys were usually playing leap frog, jumping from 
 a springboard, or having a series of Marathon races round the 
 schoolhouse (the yard being then fully treble its present size), 
 
FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 63 
 
 and the girls and little children were honeycombing the opposite 
 bank, in unconscious imitation of the mound-builders. 
 
 Both parties immediately ranged themselves in lines on 
 either side of the street, with the cry, "The minister is com- 
 ing!" Wlien Mr. Condit reached them he leaned out of the 
 chaise, bowing to right and left with a cheerful, "Good day, 
 boys!" "Good day, girls!" The latter courtesied, while the 
 boys scraped their feet backward, with an awkward obeisance; 
 then the ceremony was over, and the old horse jogged on. 
 
 We had another schoolmaster whose fame still survives. 
 Daniel Paine was known far and near for his skill in managing 
 unruly boys, and wherever there was a rebellion in school, 
 other towns were sure to send for Master Paine. Not that his 
 punishments were frequent, or unusually severe; but he had 
 what Andrew Jackson called "The shoot in his eye." After he 
 ceased teaching and was made a member of the School Commit- 
 tee, he was always spoken of as Squire Paine. On examination 
 days his closing remarks to the pupils were certain to end with 
 this inspiring forecast: "Perhaps I see before me some future 
 President of the United States. Remember, boys, that this of- 
 fice is within the reach of the poor as well as the rich." 
 
 When the jurisdiction of schools was taken from the min- 
 isters and selectmen and given to a special committee, ap- 
 pointed in each town for that purpose, some of the new mem- 
 bers felt that Solomon in all his wisdom was not equipped like 
 one of them. One of the wiseacres in this vicinity finished his 
 examination day speech in this manner : ' ' Children, you are now 
 slowly climbing up the Hill of Knowledge. But take courage; 
 keep on; and do not forget that when you reach the summit, I 
 shall be there to ivelcome you." These same semi-annual exam- 
 inations held a most important place in the calendar. On the 
 preceding day each girl brought a wash-dipper and a large 
 piece of cloth. Some kind neighbor volunteered a dish of soft 
 soap. A part of the boys were detailed to bring hot water, and 
 with a sand bank near by, the scrubbing and scouring began. 
 Meantime, the rest of the boys had gone in search of evergreen, 
 which was festooned about the walls and windows ; the rusty old 
 
64 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 stove being concealed beneath a mountain of feathery asparagus. 
 There was sure to be a crowd of visitors on the fateful day, and 
 many teachers were sorely tempted to give out in advance the 
 list of questions that they intended to ask their dullest scholars. 
 This practice, however, did not always turn out according to 
 their expectations. The old folks used to tell of a schoolmaster 
 who had one pupil so stupid that he positively could not learn 
 anything. So on the day before the examination he told this 
 boy that he should ask him, in the geography class, "What is 
 the shape of the earth?" and directed him to answer, "It is 
 round like a ball or orange." Now, at this time, the habit of 
 using tobacco was almost universal, and it was considered cour- 
 teous for the master to offer his snuff box to visitors. The one 
 that he usually carried was square, but he had a new one for 
 Sundays that was round, and this he promised to bring the fol- 
 lowing day and hand to the committee if the boy forgot his les- 
 son. This, as might have been expected, he did, and to the ques- 
 tion could only return a "I dunno." "Think a moment," said 
 the teacher, encouragingly, as he took out the new snuff box. 
 "I know," cried the boy eagerly. "It is round, sir, on Sundays, 
 and square the rest of the week. ' ' 
 
 Many were the revelations of the schoolroom. Mr. E., the 
 oldest man in town, tells of a boy in his class who was learning 
 the alphabet. He gave correctly the names of Q, R and S, but 
 could not tell what T stood for. "What did your mother drink 
 at breakfast time this morning?" asked the teacher, and the 
 pupil answered truthfully, "Rum and molasses, sir." 
 
 Mr. Carter could seldom refrain from a smile when telling 
 of his efforts to teach a stupid and overgrown boy, who lived a 
 long distance from school. "C-er-a-er-k-er-e-er," he drawled 
 one day at recitation. "Well, what does c-a-k-e spell?" asked 
 Mr. C. The boy shook his head despairingly. " Think what you 
 have in your dinner pail, and try it once more," urged the mas- 
 ter. The boy began, "C-er-a-er-k-er-e-er. Didn't brung the 
 same things to-day that I did yistiddy; brung slapjacks to-day." 
 
 About a century ago there began to be a marked revival of 
 interest in the art of spelling. The teachers vied with one an- 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 65 
 
 other in producing long fourteen-syllabled words, which trained 
 the memory, but were of little practical use. One of their favor- 
 ites was Ho-no-ri-fi-ca-bi-li-tu-di-ni-ta-te-bus-que, and was 
 spelled in this way: "H-o Ho, there's your ho, n-o no, there's 
 your no, bono, there's your bono, r-i ri, there's your ri, honori, 
 there's your honori, and so on to the end. The banner pupils 
 could reverse the process and spell it backward in the same way. 
 
 Spelling schools have been often described, but few writers 
 have alluded to the joy and glory of the encounter, when one 
 district challenged another to "match up sides." Each school 
 appointed its best speller as leader, and they severally chose a 
 picked crew from among the brightest pupils of their respective 
 districts. 
 
 On the evening in question, each boy and girl among the 
 challengers brought a tallow candle and a potato or turnip to 
 be hollowed out and used as a candlestick, so that the visitors, 
 upon their arrival, found the room ablaze with light. The judge, 
 who had been mutually agreed upon, stood up and gave out the 
 words, at first easy ones, but finally coming to Phthisic, Feoff- 
 ment, Hautboy, etc. The contestants were arranged in two 
 lines facing one another, and if a pupil failed on a word (only 
 one trial being allowed), his or her opposite spelled it, and if 
 correctly, the leader on the latter side called over one of the op- 
 posing faction to augment his own strength. Sometimes the 
 leader alone was left, and consequently obliged to spell every 
 alternate word ; but this often resulted in stemming the tide of 
 victory and bringing defeat to his opponents, since he could call 
 back the best spellers from both sides. After this, if time per- 
 mitted, came a bout of spelling down. Each pupil, who missed 
 a word, was immediately seated, till none were left. 
 
 Teaching was not a lucrative profession. Our district rec- 
 ords show that a dollar a week in summer and a dollar and a half 
 in winter, boarding 'round, was looked upon as fair pay. 
 
 Some of these old records are interesting reading. Pearl 
 City District voted that every member who failed to set out a 
 tree in the schoolyard that summer should be fined fifty cents; 
 
66 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 and if he did not assist Harry Smith in leveling the ground his 
 fine should be double. 
 
 Falls Woods voted that any pupil who used profane lan- 
 guage in the schoolhouse yard should be punished; for at this 
 time the moral and religious education of the young was deemed 
 a matter of paramount importance. Teachers of children were 
 required to show certificates that they were persons of sober 
 life and conversation ; and the law directed that in early stages 
 of life they should instill a sense of piety and virtue, and teach 
 decent behavior. 
 
 When a master came to us from another town, he must bring 
 with him a certificate from his minister and the selectmen, stat- 
 ing that he sustained a good moral character. If the Rev. Joel 
 Hayes, during the last forty years of his pastorate here, with 
 the consent of the selectmen, had allowed an instructor to teach 
 in our public schools without such a certificate, he and they 
 would have been subject to a fine, one-half of which went to the 
 informer, and the rest to the poor of South Hadley. 
 
 Master Hiram Bagg was one of our teachers who held firmly 
 to Solomon's dictum in regard to the training of youth, that 
 "the rod and reproof give wisdom," and he maintained such 
 good order in his schools that his services were constantly in 
 demand. He usually began the term with these words: "If 
 scholars try to be good they always find me the kindest and 
 pleasantest man you ever saw, BUT — , ' ' and the unfinished sen- 
 tence carried more weight than a dozen threats would have done. 
 
 Soon after came the transition from master to mistress in 
 our winter schools. This change was not easily effected. Miss 
 T. taught for several summers in the Center District with such 
 marked success that the Committee felt justified in offering 
 her a position in the winter school. This was an innovation 
 indeed ; a woman to teach big boys ! Her friends all begged her to 
 refuse, but she bad confidence in herself and accepted the ap- 
 pointment. The result of the experiment, however, was such a 
 mortifying failure that she immediately learned dressmaking, 
 and as long as she lived never again taught school. 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 67 
 
 It was rumored that the Prudential Committee in District 
 Number Four had hired the daughter of a minister in a neigh- 
 boring town to teach their winter school. There arose a great 
 cry against it, for the policy had always been to employ home 
 talent, and the public money, they asserted, should be kept in 
 the town. 
 
 The young woman came ; strong, purposeful and with abun- 
 dant tact; before the close of the term the whole district were 
 ready to kneel at her shrine, and the dynasty of men as teachers 
 in Number Four was at an end. 
 
 With the advent of women in our winter schools the style 
 of punishment was changed. Such brutalities as "sitting in a 
 whig chair," "holding down a nail," etc., were dropped and 
 milder penalties substituted. One Granby teacher earned the 
 perpetual hatred of her pupils by introducing the use of leather 
 spectacles which, covering the eyes, entailed temporary blind- 
 ness and gave the offender ample time in which to reflect upon 
 his ill doing. 
 
 Very young children were now admitted to public schools, 
 and the little three-year-old girls were distinguished as Totty 
 Smith, Totty Clark, etc. They were placed at the foot of the 
 primer class and taught the alphabet. The first question to be 
 asked them was, "Who made you?" and they were taught to 
 answer, reverently, "God;" but they sometimes developed an 
 unexpected theology of their own. One little tot, in reply to a 
 teacher's question if she did not think God was very good and 
 kind to give her her little feet to run about with, answered, 
 stoutly, "No. Dod wanted to div me my little feet. He didn't 
 want to see me stumpin' round the house and backin' down 
 stairs." 
 
 At the head of this class stood the children who could read 
 c-a-t, cat, d-o-g, dog; and sometimes a boy who was in words 
 of four letters. One of the latter, without a thought of irony, 
 persisted in reading goat g-o, go, a-t, at, go-at, and the only 
 specimen in the vicinity always justified that pronunciation of 
 its name. 
 
68 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 This class learned many improving rhymes, such as : 
 
 "Sixty seconds make a minute, 
 
 Sixty minutes make an hour; 
 I wish I were a little linnet, 
 
 Sitting in her leafy bower. 
 Then I should not have to sing it — 
 
 Sixty seconds make a minute. 
 
 "Twenty- four hours make a day. 
 
 And seven days will make a week; 
 I'd rather jump upon the hay. 
 
 Or play at charming hide and seek, 
 Than count the hours that make a day, 
 Or tell the days that make a week. 
 
 "Four weeks will make a month, 
 
 And twelve whole months will make a year ; 
 
 Now, I must say it o'er and o'er, 
 Or else it never will be clear ; 
 
 So once again I will begin it — 
 Sixty seconds make a minute." 
 
 The teachers composed simple rhymes for their pupils to 
 learn. The following by a country schoolmistress was consid- 
 ered her masterpiece, and was given here at the close of school 
 on examination days. 
 
 "Parents and friends, we're very glad 
 That you have come to-day 
 To listen to the simple things 
 "We children have to say. 
 
 "We learn to read, we learn to spell. 
 We learn to write and cipher, too. 
 And hope to act our part as well 
 In life as our dear parents do. 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 69 
 
 "Some of us will be ministers, 
 And some will lawyers be, 
 Doctors, merchants, farmers, too, 
 Upon these seats you see. 
 
 "But this is future, none can tell it. 
 
 We may be men of might and dollars. 
 But all we ask for now's the credit 
 Of being very decent scholars. 
 
 "Parents and friends, our task is done. 
 My speech is now quite through. 
 With your permission, honored sir (bowing to the 
 committee), 
 I leave the floor to you." 
 
 The lead pencils that first came into use were almost in- 
 delible. It was customary in some of our schools for the teacher 
 to make a large "X" upon the forehead of every pupil who mis- 
 behaved. This served a double purpose; it was a present dis- 
 grace, and, its significance being understood, it made known to 
 the parents at home the guilt of the offender. 
 
 One schoolmistress provided herself with small wooden 
 pegs, and whenever she caught a pupil in the act of whispering, 
 one of these was placed in such a manner as to distend the 
 mouth, rendering speech impossible. But this method of disci- 
 pline was of short duration, for the children soon grew expert 
 in the art of moving and replacing the peg with the tongue, and 
 by holding the mouth open when the teacher was looking that 
 way they were able, while hidden behind the big slate and bigger 
 atlas, to greatly abate the rigor of this punishment. 
 
 It was not until the time of the Civil War that the teachers 
 learned the full meaning of the old lines: 
 
 "O'er wajTvard childhood wouldst thou hold firm rule. 
 And sun thee in the light of happy faces ? 
 Love, Hope and Patience, these must be thy graces. 
 And in thine otvn heart let them first keep school." 
 
CHAPTER FIFTH 
 
 FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE (CONCLUDED) 
 
 SO MUCH has been written in regard to Mary Lyon's School 
 for Girls, people are in danger of forgetting that a famous 
 boys' school was also located in South Hadley. 
 
 Soon after the Rebellion of 1786, Col. Ruggles Woodbridge, 
 who was now the wealthiest man in town, began the building of 
 his beautiful home, now owned by Mrs. Hollingsworth. The 
 ornamental carving within was all hand work, and a well-known 
 antiquarian once said that it was amongst the finest in the State. 
 The large house, with its curiously paneled doors, was at first 
 but a lonely home. Col. Woodbridge had been one of a family of 
 eight children, and, including visitors and servants, his father's 
 household had never been a small one. He had never married, 
 since most of his life had been spent in an era of continual ex- 
 citement on account of impending conflict or actual warfare. 
 Even in the later insurrection it was he who gathered a small 
 party of men at the old Woodbridge Parsonage, ready for bat- 
 tle, until finding from his scouts that he would be outnumbered 
 by Shay's men, and lives would be sacrificed in the fight, he be- 
 came convinced that prudence forbade his making a sally. But 
 if the present quiet of his dwelling grew irksome, his active mind 
 soon devised a remedy. He had always been a friend to the 
 education of youth, his own college course having been of great 
 assistance to him in life. 
 
 He was an original thinker in advance of his time, and his 
 theses during his curriculum often puzzled the professors. He 
 now decided to open the "Woodbridge School for Boys," and 
 it met with such success that he was compelled to make one 
 addition after another to his house, till people said that if it had 
 a few more wings it would be able to fly. Hartford and New 
 York City alone sent thirty students. The first teacher was 
 Samuel Ely, but the Colonel was head master as far as discipline 
 was concerned. 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 71 
 
 A single example will illustrate his methods. After some 
 years of faithful service, Jerusha, the "hired girl," received an 
 advantageous offer of marriage from a well-to-do farmer, who 
 was also the precentor at church. Her kindness to the boys had 
 been so great that Col. W. not only presented her with a set of 
 furs, the muff of which was two feet long, but also offered to 
 give her a wedding. On the day before the ceremony a bride's 
 loaf of rich cake was carefully frosted and placed upon the 
 upper shelf in the pantry. About midnight, a venturesome youth 
 stole downstairs barefooted, captured the cake, and bore it in 
 triumph to the third story. The boys then lowered it and them- 
 selves to the piazza roof, and climbing down to the ground, went 
 into the orchard to eat it, leaving no telltale crumbs to betray 
 their exploit. Next morning there was great excitement; the 
 teachers said the boys who had done this should be expelled. 
 "No," answered the Colonel, "that would disgrace them for 
 life. I think I know of a better way." 
 
 After conducting the morning devotions, he asked every 
 pupil to look him straight in the eye, and his keen vision singled 
 out the culprits by their guilty blushes. "His eyes bored right 
 through us like a gimlet," said one of them afterwards. The 
 teachers agreed that these lads should at least be locked in their 
 rooms during the wedding. Again Colonel Woodbridge said 
 "No." He told the midnight marauders that every one of them 
 must be present at the ceremony, but if any of them, when the 
 cake was passed, ventured to take a piece, he would be expelled 
 the next morning. Fifty years later these lads used to say that 
 Colonel Woodbridge had been the making of them. 
 
 The pupils were obliged to dress in uniform, and on Sun- 
 day march two and two into church with military precision. 
 Every Sabbath morning they had a Bible lesson at home, and 
 every day at the close of school each boy recited a verse of 
 Scripture. 
 
 Most of the pupils came from old and aristocratic families. 
 They wore tall hats, which gave great offense to the town boys, 
 and there were frequent collisions in which fists were freely 
 used. These quarrels were discountenanced by the teachers, 
 
72 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 and after some of the South Hadley boys entered the school a 
 semblance of peace was maintained. 
 
 A long list might be given of the governors and other leading 
 men of Massachusetts, who were educated in this school, which 
 ranked high in its intellectual as well as its moral influence. 
 
 The following advertisement appeared in an old Hampshire 
 Gazette : 
 
 "Boarding School. 
 
 "Miss Wright's School will commence in this town 
 the first Wednesday of May next, where the usual 
 branches of education taught in her school and in other 
 female academies will be duly attended to. 
 
 "Particular attention will be paid to the manners 
 and morals of those who may be committed to her care. 
 
 "South Hadley, March 25, 1809." 
 
 The plan for this, as well as that of the boys' school, origi- 
 nated with Colonel Woodbridge, and for the preceding six years 
 it had been a decided siaccuss. 
 
 Previous to 1800, girls appear to have been excluded from 
 our public schools, except for a few weeks in the early summer. 
 Any woman who could read in Gumming 's Catechism, sign a 
 deed if necessary, and was able to calculate how much eight 
 pounds of butter would come to at seventeen cents per pound, 
 was looked upon as having all the education that was needful, 
 or in any way befitting her sphere. But in 1803 the progress 
 toward modern methods received a new impulse from the in- 
 stallation of our first postoffiee, and the establishment of Miss 
 Abby Wright's School, one of the very earliest academies de- 
 voted exclusively to girls that was opened in Western Massa- 
 chusetts. Miss Wright was for those times a lady of rare culture, 
 and though she taught the most exqiiisite needlework, was still 
 more careful to see that her pupils were well grounded in 
 mathematics and other essential branches. 
 
 A few extracts from Miss Wright's journal and letters may 
 give a brief glimpse of her school: 
 
 "South Hadley, July 22, 1803— My school is very agree- 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 73 
 
 able, though the attention they require renders my task pretty 
 laborious. The scholars are very ambitious and I am glad to 
 encourage them. I tell them they may come as early as they 
 please and I will attend to them. Sometimes they come in at six 
 o'clock in the morning. I am of the opinion that ten shillings 
 per week is not enough for such a school, but when I wrote to 
 Col. "Woodbridge I set my price at that and did not limit the 
 number, though I did not expect there would be more than 
 twenty scholars." 
 
 "South Hadley, Jan. 25, 1804 — I have an excellent place to 
 board, which is in the family of Dr. Stebbins. They live in a 
 kind of genteel snugness, and Mrs. S. has not failed to show 
 herself as friendly as a sister on every occasion in which I have 
 needed the assistance of a friend." 
 
 "May 29, 1804 — My school goes on cleverly, and I have no 
 reason to regret staying here. I keep in Mr. Goodman's hall a 
 very convenient room. Five or six young ladies from Granby 
 who attend my school board at Dea. Joseph White's. The 
 number who have applied for admission has exceeded my expec- 
 tations. I admitted forty and applications were made until I 
 positively refused to take another. The major part of them 
 are from out of town, are from fourteen to twenty-one years 
 old and upward, and are in general very studious and attentive 
 to the rules of propriety. 
 
 "The school has acquired a greater degree of celebrity than 
 I wish and I believe much greater than it deserves. On many 
 accounts this is an excellent place for a female academy. It 
 is pleasantly situated, very healthy, and there are few objects to 
 divert the attention of the scholar. ' ' 
 
 "August 3, 1805 — I am now boarding at Eev. Joel Hayes. 
 I had the honor of riding out with him — on Col. Woodbridge 's 
 best horse — to \'isit at Rev. Mr. Gridley's. Mrs. Hayes, Dr. 
 and Mrs. Stebbins, Mrs. Dwight, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph White, 
 rode in carriages." 
 
 Two days later she writes: 
 
 "August 5, 1805 — We called in Springfield to see a piece 
 of needlework lately executed at a celebrated school in Boston. 
 
74 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 It was an elegant piece, and yet I have some in my school which 
 I should not blush to compare with it, if the expense of each 
 might be admitted in the comparison. The piece I refer to was 
 wrought by a Miss Lyman, in memory of both her parents. It 
 consists of a large willow, a monument, and two urns, the figures 
 of a lady and gentleman and a little boy. The expense of the 
 limner in drawing and painting the faces was eight dollars, and 
 six months spent in Boston in working it." 
 
 The following sensible advice was given to her pupils upon 
 the opening day of the term : 
 
 "Perhaps in no period of a woman's life is her conduct more 
 criticized and her actions more liable to censure than when at- 
 tending a boarding school * * * Be diligent, then, in im- 
 proving your time; content not yourselves with being merely 
 pretty or agreeable, but endeavor to be useful. Remember that 
 amusement is not the business of life, but use it as a relaxation 
 from its cares that you may return to its duties with redoubled 
 ardor, and remember that the more good you do the more happi- 
 ness you will enjoy." 
 
 A short extract from her farewell address to the members 
 of the graduating class will illustrate the spirit and character of 
 her teaching: 
 
 "My Dear Girls : You are now arrived at an age when your 
 characters are to be established for life. How necessary is it 
 that you have some fixed principles by which to regulate your 
 conduct, for she who is governed by the influence of the present 
 moment, who acts without thinking and thinks without reflect- 
 ing, is as sure to run into improprieties as the seaman who sails 
 without a pilot or compass is to dash upon the rocks. * * * 
 Let books be the constant companions of your lives, accustom 
 yourselves every day to spend a little time in reading and let 
 the Holy Scriptures make at least some part of your studies." 
 
 The termination of this school was a source of deep regret 
 to the people of South Hadley, but all were glad that Miss 
 Wright, as the wife of Captain Peter Allen, would remain a 
 member of the town. The marriage proved to be a happy one, 
 and in her hospitable home, which stood just in front of the pres- 
 
FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 75 
 
 ent Pearson Hall, Mary Lyon was a frequent and always wel- 
 come visitor, especially while the Seminary Building was in 
 process of erection. It was said that Mrs. Allen's age and ex- 
 perience enabled her to be of great use to Miss Lyon during this 
 period. 
 
 Her commanding influence made her a power in the church, 
 and she was the acknowledged leader in all benevolent enter- 
 prises. Her death occurred in 1842, in the sixty-ninth year of 
 her age, and her funeral sermon was preached from the text: 
 "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." 
 
 On a bleak hillside in Buckland, near the door of a small 
 house, a young girl was standing. She looked toward the stone- 
 walled pasture, where the sheep were leisurely browsing, for 
 she knew that from them must come the thick, woolen dress 
 for her daily winter wear — always a red dress, everyone said 
 red was such a durable color. But she knew the wool must first 
 be carded and spun, dyed and woven, and already she was learn- 
 ing to knit, spin and weave. In the field of flax near-by slie saw 
 the brown linen gown for summer's use, but swingle, and hetchel, 
 wheel, and loom must each do their appointed task. As she 
 mused, a voice from the doorway called, "Mary!" and she could 
 easily guess the duty that awaited her. The long potatoes of 
 that day formed an essential part of the midday meal, and since 
 there was no stove in the house they must be roasted in the hot 
 ashes of the big fireplace. People were at this time expected to 
 eat the whole of the baked potato, including the outer covering, 
 or skin. In order to do this, every trace of the ashes must be 
 removed before bringing them to the table. The wings of the 
 wild turkey furnished the substitute for our modern brushes, 
 and it was a frequent request in the Lyon household that Mary 
 should be the one to "wing the potatoes, because she makes them 
 so clean." By these habits of patient industry, Mary Lyon 
 was laying the foundations of a character which would eventu- 
 ally win her an honored place in the Hall of Fame. 
 
 In spite of poverty, her early home was a happy one. Most 
 of the food and clothing for the seven children was supplied 
 
76 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 by the little farm, and there was always something which they 
 could share with a neighbor more in need than themselves. 
 Though they had but few conveniences, their lot was but the 
 common lot of all, for even in the minister's dwelling there was 
 no stove. Our necessities were their luxuries. 
 
 Before Mary had completed her sixth year a dark shadow 
 had fallen upon the household, a shadow that was never wholly 
 lifted from their lives. In December of 1802, her father became 
 alarmingly ill. On the day before his death he was constantly 
 repeating "Thou art my rock and my fortress, my high tower 
 and my deliverer," and other kindred texts. It was the com- 
 mon belief that a peculiar sanctity was attached to the words of 
 those who were approaching death, and children were often car- 
 ried for miles in order to receive what was termed the Dying 
 Blessing. On the following morning Mr. Lyon summoned the 
 family to his bedside and spoke tender words of farewell. The 
 baby in the arms of her elder sister added pathos to the scene 
 by calling now and then, in a pitiful little voice, "Papa! Papa!" 
 Bidding them cling more closely to each other and always love 
 one another, he added: "My dear children, what shall I say to 
 you? God bless you, my children. " These were his last words. 
 
 The girlhood of Mary Lyon was an uneventful one. Her 
 teachers found her an apt scholar, diligent, quick to learn and 
 possessing a most retentive memory. She was fond of books 
 and might often be found in a corner of the kitchen preparing 
 her lesson for the next day's recitation. 
 
 Her leading characteristic at this time appears to have been 
 her deep reverence for the sacred hours of the Sabbath. In 
 pleasant weather it was the fashion for the members of the con- 
 gregation, during the intermission between the morning and 
 afternoon service, to stroll out into the old burying ground. 
 Here they ate their simple lunch and talked in low, subdued 
 tones. It sometimes happened that a group of young people met. 
 and, freed from the restraining presence of their elders, indulged 
 in light conversation, which seemed to her ill befitting the day. 
 Upon such occasions she always left them, and the silent re- 
 proof of her example was perhaps more potent than words. 
 
^ 
 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 77 
 
 In the present age it is difficult to realize the strictness in 
 regard to the observance of the Sabbath which prevailed a cen- 
 tury ago. Then no beds could be made, nor rooms swept until 
 after sunset, and in many families no cooking of food was al- 
 lowed on the Lord's Day.* 
 
 Miss Lyon never permitted either herself or her pupils to 
 write letters on Sunday. About 1840 one of the students in 
 Mount Holyoke Seminary, whose mother was ill, asked permis- 
 sion on that account to write her on the Sabbath. In South Had- 
 ley the mail closed in the morning at nine o'clock. Miss Lyon 
 asked her pupil if she could not write a letter on Monday before 
 the mail went out. The gii'l replied that it would be impossible, 
 as she had a recitation in Logic at eight o'clock. "Then," said 
 Miss Lyon, "I will excuse you from the recitation and you can 
 write your letter at that time." 
 
 A pupil once asked her if she considered it a sin to write 
 religious letters on the Sabbath. Her reply was: "If you are 
 deeply interested in the conversion of an impenitent friend, I do 
 not say that it would be wrong to write to her on Sunday, but 
 think how much greater weight the letter would carry if written 
 during recreation hours." 
 
 She was equally strict in regard to herself. Upon one occa- 
 sion she waited in Buffalo for the stage which was to convey her 
 to her sister's home, waited from Saturday morning until four 
 o'clock in the afternoon. When it came she found that by tak- 
 ing it she could reach her sister's house early the next morning. 
 
 * A grandson of Jonathan Edwards left us the following description of a 
 Massachusetts man: "However busy the season, even when his crops were 
 exposed to destruction by rain, he dismissed all the laborers so early on Satur- 
 day afternoon as to enable them to reach their own homes before sunset — 
 the time when be began the Sabbath. His cattle were all fed, his cows milked, 
 the vegetables tor the ensuing day prepared, and his family summoned together 
 previous to this sacred period. Until nine o'clock he spent the evening with 
 his household in reading and prayer, and at this moment they uniformly re- 
 tired to their beds. No room in his house was swept, no bed was made, nor 
 was any act, except such as were acts of necessity and mercy in the strict 
 sense, done until sunset on the succeeding day, when in his opinion the Sab- 
 bath terminated." 
 
78 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 but felt that it would be a profanation of holy time to travel on 
 Saturday night, and accordingly remained in Buffalo until the 
 following Monday. 
 
 In the busy days of her early womanhood, Mary Lyon found 
 little time for youthful love and romance. After she became a 
 teacher, however, an incident occurred which showed her entire 
 devotion to the cause of education. A young man, whose birth- 
 place was but three or four miles from our South Hadley church, 
 studied for the ministry and entered the missionary fields in 
 what was then looked upon as the Far West. He spent two 
 years in teaching the whites and Indians and then came East in 
 order to find a wife who could assist him in his work. He con- 
 fided his wishes to a friend, who suggested that Mary Lyon was 
 well suited to this position. The young minister called upon 
 Miss Lyon, and as a missionary's wooing was often a speedy 
 one, after two or three interviews he asked her to marry him. 
 She thanked him for the compliment he had paid her, but gently 
 told him that her mind was so filled with plans for the elevation 
 and improvement of schools for young women that she had room 
 for but little else. She added, however: "I will do better for 
 you than to marry you ; I will introduce you to one of my friends, 
 who is jtist suited to be your associate in this work, and who 
 will, I feel sure, make your home a far happier one than I could 
 ever hope to do." The young man followed her advice, and the 
 wife proved a willing and able helper. 
 
 This was not the only occasion upon which Mary Lyon was 
 compelled to explain to a disappointed suitor the high purpose 
 of her life. Even after the Seminary Building was well on its 
 way toward completion, a widower with six young daughters 
 came to South Hadley because someone had told him that Miss 
 Lyon was just the wife for him. The matter was whispered 
 from one to another, and Mr. Joel Hayes, who was a son of our 
 former minister, and who lived in our third parsonage, now 
 owned by Mrs. Lester, volunteered to give a tea party in order 
 that the two might be introduced to one another. Invitations 
 were sent to Captain Peter Allen, Rev. Mr. Condit, Dr. Elihu 
 
FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 79 
 
 Dwight, Mr. E. T. Smith, Deacon Moses Montague, Mr. Cyrus 
 White, and others. These invitations included their wives also, 
 and Miss Lyon, who was at that time a guest at Captain Allen's. 
 It was thought that this arrangement would enable the widower 
 to accompany Miss Lyon home, when he could ask permission to 
 "pay his addresses to her." 
 
 One of the company, who was a somewhat clumsy joker, 
 told Miss Lyon in a low voice that he never expected to see her 
 preside over Mount Holyoke Female Seminary. "And why 
 not?" she asked quickly. "Because," he replied, "I think you 
 will take a smaller school, with but a single pupil." Miss Lyon 
 instantly divined the situation, and not wishing the matter to go 
 farther, found a quiet moment in which she could hint to Mrs. 
 Abby Wright Allen her desire to return home before the break- 
 ing up of the party. 
 
 At this time etiquette demanded that at the tea table hus- 
 band and wife should sit next one another. This gave Mrs. Allen 
 an opportunity to arrange with the Captain for their early de- 
 parture. A little later the three excused themselves and went 
 home, leaving the widower to his own reflections. 
 
 When Mary Lyon found that the dream of her life was near- 
 ing its fulfillment, a question arose in regard to the location of 
 the new seminary. Rev. Eoswell Hawks, who had resigned his 
 pastorate in order to aid in the work, was an intimate friend of 
 Rev. Artemas Boies, who was at this time our minister. The 
 latter wrote to Mr. Hawks : " Do not let Miss Lyon decide upon a 
 situation until she has seen South Hadley. This is an ideal place 
 for such a school." 
 
 It was in response to this invitation that she first visited 
 our town, with the view of finding a suitable place for locating 
 the seminary. She finally decided to establish the school here, 
 asking only that the townspeople should provide a site and help 
 on the building to the utmost of their ability. Eight thousand 
 dollars was promptly subscribed in work and money, but when 
 the time for payment arrived many gave double the amount 
 which they had promised. 
 
80 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Mr. Hawks and Miss Lyon solicited contributions for the 
 seminary, both for the building itself and its needed furnishings, 
 and for this purpose made frequent tours. Their friends in this 
 vicinity sometimes loaned them their best horse and chaise, and 
 sometimes, alas ! a superannuated horse and decrepit vehicle. 
 
 The word "hospitality" has now lost much of its former 
 significance. Then it meant that they would be welcomed every- 
 where, and breakfast, dinner, supper and lodging could be had 
 for the asking. A, single instance will illustrate their methods. 
 ' ' One bitter cold night in December, 1835, a gentleman and lady 
 drove to the door of Mrs. F.'s early home and asked for a night's 
 lodging. She gave them a cordial welcome, but told the gentle- 
 man he would have to care for his horse, as her husband had gone 
 to meeting. She soon found her guests to be Eev. Roswell 
 Hawks and Mary Lyon. They were on a pilgrimage through the 
 towns of Western Massachusetts, soliciting funds and other 
 donations for the new female seminary to be founded at South 
 Hadley. 
 
 "A pleasant evening was passed, Mary Lyon taking out her 
 knitting work and wisely plying her needles as she engaged in 
 conversation. All were up at an early hour next morning, as 
 was the custom of farmers, and the guests were anxious to 
 make an early start. As the sleigh was brought out it was found 
 to be sadly in need of repairs; the harness, too, needed mend- 
 ing, and after considerable delay in patching things, they started 
 on their journey, rejoicing over a gift of fifty dollars from their 
 host. In front of them in the sleigh was a tub filled with articles 
 donated by friends." 
 
 Later, Mr. and Mrs. F. visited the seminary, and as they 
 sat down to dinner Mary Lyon quietly remarked that this was 
 their bread and milk day — plenty of sweet milk, good bread, 
 stewed sweet apples and pie made up the menu for the day's 
 dinner. 
 
 In 1835, a difference of opinion arose among Miss Lyon's 
 co-workers in regard to the location of the new school. Some 
 who lived in the eastern part of the state wished it to be near 
 
FKOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 81 
 
 Boston, others were equally insistent that it should be in the 
 Connecticut Valley. 
 
 Miss Lyon well knew that the Ipswich Seminary had for 
 years occupied the field north of Boston, and this very summer 
 "Wheaton Female Seminary was opened about twenty-five miles 
 south of that city. She, herself, taught in both institutions, and 
 in the latter school is said to have taken a class through Adam's 
 arithmetic in three weeks ' time. Under such circumstances she 
 adhered firmly to her purpose of locating at South Hadley, and 
 the others all yielded to her decision. 
 
 It was now necessary to fix upon a site for the building. 
 Her first plan was to place it upon the summit of Prospect Hill, 
 which commands a fine view of the surrounding country. A 
 beautiful landscape was, in her eyes, a continual education, but 
 when she thought of the toil involved in the steep ascent — far 
 steeper then than now — it seemed wiser to choose a more acces- 
 sible spot, and another site was offered, which embraced the 
 present summer residence of J. A. Skinner and gave a pic- 
 turesque view of moimtain and valley. This situation would 
 have been entirely satisfactory but for its distance from church. 
 She expected that her pupils would attend both morning and 
 afternoon service, in storm as well as in sunshine, and it seemed 
 better to place the building at a less distance from the meeting 
 house, as at this time umbrellas were both rare and costly. 
 
 Opposite the Old Burying Ground was a sandy pasture, a 
 part of which was covered with huckleberry bushes and the re- 
 mainder was used as a boys' playground. Mr. David Choate, 
 one of her friendly advisers, standing one day upon the present 
 site of the Mary Lyon Chapel, said quietly: "This is the right 
 place, I believe. ' ' At his side stood an old pear tree, which had 
 probably shadowed the walls of South Hadley 's first dwelling 
 house. The owner of this tree had allowed the village boys to 
 gather its fruit at their pleasure. Mr. J. once told the author 
 that in 1836, when he was a boy, one summer morning he had 
 climbed into the old pear tree, when a man named John Preston 
 approached with an axe, saying that he had been directed to cut 
 down the tree and dig up the stump, as this spot was needed for 
 
82 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 the new seminary. Hastily filling his pockets with fruit, he re- 
 turned home with laggard steps, while across the street the little 
 children asked with tearful voice, "Where shall we go huckle 
 berrying?" 
 
 The laying of the cornerstone was a memorable affair in 
 South Hadley, and great preparations were made for its cele- 
 bration. Mr. Todd was engaged to deliver an address in the 
 village church, and Mr. Dexter Ingraham, the leader of the choir, 
 invited the young people to assist upon this occasion. He 
 trained a chorus of nearly one hundred voices which, led by a 
 good orchestra, furnished inspiring music. 
 
 After the services at the church were ended, the congrega- 
 tion formed in procession and marched, two and two, to the 
 northwestern extremity of the Seminary Building. Here the 
 cornerstone was laid with appropriate exercises, and upon this 
 occasion it is said that Miss Lyon stooped down and wrote. "The 
 Lord hath remembered our low estate."* 
 
 *Eecollections of Mary Lyon, by Fidelia Fiske, page 93. 
 
 The following account of Miss Lyon's first years in South 
 Hadley is from the pen of Mrs. Cynthia Wright Herrick, and 
 was written soon after the fire of 1896: 
 
 "My remembrance of Mary Lyon, and the influence she ex- 
 erted upon individuals with whom she came in contact, dates 
 back to my fifth year of childhood. Our family had moved to 
 South Hadley in order to obtain better facilities for schooling. 
 When our home was first established there, her seminary build- 
 ing was nearing the third story. Her experiment was discussed 
 around our hearth by neighbors and friends nearly every even- 
 ing. The pros and cons as often against as for her. An open 
 declaration of war with England would hardly have created 
 more controversy. Even her well wishers predicted failure ; her 
 enemies felt that it would curse the town, and one good South 
 Hadley deacon predicted there would not be a girl in the place 
 worth marrying, with their higher education. It is well that 
 none of them read with a prophetic eye. 
 
 "During this period I had no idea what kind of a creature 
 this Mary Lyon was. I fully believed she was some kind of a 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 83 
 
 monster, but of what species I was ignorant. One day I ven- 
 tured to ask one of my big brothers what kind of a lion a Mary 
 lion was. He looked at me a moment with a twinkle in his eyes, 
 and replied that it was a kind that fed on girls entirely and had 
 no use for boys whatever; that there was to be a large, brick 
 cage built, and there they would live with the Lyon till she dis- 
 posed of them. He then informed me that I might be snapped 
 up between times if I ran away, or stayed out late at night. I 
 was also told that he had heard father say he should send me 
 there when I was older. I assure you, I had my opinion of Mary 
 Lj'on after that, and the darkness never found me away from 
 home. 
 
 "The first time I saw her she was sitting beside my invalid 
 mother, her eyes sparkling, talking volubly of the need of quilts, 
 pillows ; anything that pertained to household furnishings. She 
 pushed her chair nearer as she talked, and at last my mother 
 consented to aid her, after Miss Lyon had taken her hand in 
 her own and gently held it. No young lady who has ever felt the 
 pressure of that hand will deny the magnetic influence that it 
 exerted. I was standing behind the kitchen door looking through 
 the crack to see a Mary lion, and she was just a blue-eyed, red- 
 cheeked woman. 
 
 "About that time my father came in one morning and 
 stated the fact that the seminary had completely disappeared off 
 the face of the earth during the night. The three stories col- 
 lapsed, and the plan of educating women was supposed to have 
 incurred the Di\'ine displeasure. 
 
 "When Miss Lyon saw the ruins of her long-cherished 
 hopes, she exclaimed, 'How glad I am that no one is hurt.' It 
 was discovered later that the foundation was permeated with 
 quicksand, which caused the ruin. 
 
 "Miss Lyon soon rebuilt the seminary, having raised 
 twenty-seven thousand dollars, which she collected in sums rang- 
 ing from six cents, in three instances, to one thousand dollars 
 in but two, and there were eighteen hundred subscribers. 
 
 "The cornerstone of Mt. Holyoke Seminary was laid Octo- 
 ber 3, 1836, and the school was opened with four teachers and 
 
84 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 eighty scholars on November 8, 1837. During the first year the 
 number of scholars increased to one hundred and sixteen. At 
 the time of Mary Lyon's death, in 1849, there were fourteen 
 teachers and two hundred and twenty-nine pupils. 
 
 "Miss Lyon had a correct yet nimble and elastic judgment 
 which could adapt itself to any situation. Her aim was singu- 
 larly unselfish, and for this high purpose she put aside all merely 
 personal matters. Declining marriage, a sacrifice much greater 
 for her than for one less affectionate and domestic, she gave her 
 life in as pure and lofty a devotion as ever characterized a Saint 
 Theresa. 
 
 "I entered the seminary the year Miss Lyon died. She met 
 me with a smile, called me her new daughter, and informed 
 me that my trunk had been mislaid and I could have the pleasure 
 of sharing a room with one of the teachers until my absent trunk 
 was fovmd. 
 
 "Miss Lyon had few duties in the school room. She taught 
 only Butler's Analogy and Chemistry. 
 
 "The first week of the new scholars was to most of us a 
 homesick season, but when Miss Lyon came into the seminary 
 hall, with her Bible under her arm, and her face shining as if 
 she had been in communion with Deity, she would speak words 
 worth cherishing. It was then that she impressed upon us the 
 power of littles — little habits, little sins, transient thoughts, 
 cherished indulgences, and their importance in the formation of 
 character. She always placed the sufferings of Christ and His 
 self-denials in such a clear and vivid light that the common trials 
 of a school girl's life were not for a moment to be thought of. 
 At these times she seemed beautiful to me. 
 
 "One of my fellow students was taken very ill with malig- 
 nant erysipelas, which proved fatal. Miss Lyon scarcely left her 
 bedside and herself contracted the disease. The young lady's 
 coffin was placed in front of the platform in the seminary hall, 
 and Miss Lyon, with tears rolling down her cheeks, talked of the 
 dear sister. Her last words to us were these, "Young ladies, 
 if I could fold my hands and lay down in our dear sister's 
 place, with God's voice saying, 'Your work is done, come up 
 

 
 
 J. 
 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 85 
 
 higher,' I should be so glad to go." She only lived three days 
 afterwards. It was predicted that the seminary would prove a 
 failure after her death, but she had planted and pruned too 
 wisely for the tree to die after all its early care, and now we are 
 proud and a little boastful of Holyoke as the finest and most 
 progressive school in the world." 
 
 One of Mary Lyon's greatest objects in founding the semi- 
 nary was to bring education within reach of the poor. The 
 trustees sympathized with this desire, and said that since the 
 expense of the building had been defrayed by gifts of money, 
 and voluntary labor, no charge should be made for room rent 
 and the price of board, including tuition, should be placed at the 
 small sum of one dollar and a half a week. 
 
 Under these circumstances no person of less executive abil- 
 ity than Miss Lyon could have carried the school through its 
 first year to a successful finish. 
 
 As no help was hired, except one man for heavy lifting and 
 the carrying of wood, the labor of the household devolved upon 
 the j'oung ladies, as Miss Lyon always called them. Each of 
 these was assigned her part in what was termed their domestic 
 work, which occupied on an average about an hour a day. 
 
 They were formed into circles, according to the different 
 duties assigned them. The dinner circle prepared the food for 
 the mid-day meal, after which the blue crockery circle washed 
 and wiped the willow ware then in use. The work was all 
 classified and carried on with unerring precision. If a pupil was 
 absent, either by reason of illness or from some other cause, 
 her place was promptly filled by a member of the miscellaneous 
 circle, who could turn their hands to anything. 
 
 Nor were the pupils dissatisfied with this division of labor. 
 They sang blithely at their work, or chatted merrily, and it 
 would be hard to find even among the college girls of to-day a 
 happier set of faces than those that brightened the old domestic 
 hall in the days long gone by. 
 
 Five years after the school opened Miss Lyon wrote to a 
 friend, "Everything is systematized, and Miss Moore and Miss 
 Whitman urge forward the wheels so beautifully that all seems 
 
86 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 more than ever like clock-work." In her modesty, Mary Lyon 
 did not realize that she was herself the mainspring of it all. 
 Her firm will, sometimes half veiled under a playful manner, 
 carried everything before it. 
 
 Mr. Hawks once differed from her in regard to some pro- 
 posed plan, and being the president of the trustees, said with 
 some dignity, "Miss Lyon, please to remember that I am the 
 head of this institution." "Well," she returned, quickly, "if 
 you are the head I am the neck that turns the head," and she 
 had her way. 
 
 The pupils always complied with her wishes, and usually 
 with cheerful readiness. Once she gave them an unexpected 
 holiday, in order that they might visit Mount Holyoke. She 
 had, as she supposed, guarded her plans with care, but hardly 
 had her pupils reached the summit when she was told that a mes- 
 senger on horseback had been seen riding post-haste through 
 the notch to Amherst, and she knew that the college boys would 
 soon be flocking toward the mountain. Sending for Mr. Hawks, 
 she asked him to procure teams and go at once to Mount Holy- 
 oke with a summons for the immediate return of the party. He 
 would gladly have been excused from this duty, but did as she 
 desired. In spite of their disappointment, all yielded to her re- 
 quest. One of them, however, remarked in an audible voice as 
 they descended the mountain, "It seems that we escaped from 
 the Lyon's den only to fall into a Hawks' nest." 
 
 Few of their outings were better enjoyed than going berry- 
 ing. On a pleasant Wednesday, when the swamp huckleberries 
 were ripe, some of the good-natured farmers of this vicinity 
 drove to the front of the seminary building with their big hay 
 wagons and waited while the girls climbed joyfully in. Accom- 
 panied by Miss Lyon, or one of the older teachers, they rode 
 across the plains with song and laughter, till they reached "the 
 slipe." Tin pails and willow backets were then much in request, 
 for all knew that the fruit of their afternoon's labor would add 
 to the present menu, besides being in part preserved for winter's 
 use, when dried huckleberry pies were not to be despised. And 
 if, on the way home, each contributed an amusing story. Miss 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 87 
 
 Lyon's was sure to be the best and wittiest one of all, though at 
 its end, like the old edition of Aesop's Fables, there was gener- 
 ally a moral ready to be attached. 
 
 During the early years of the seminary, the furniture was 
 simple and the food plain. This was a necessity since sixty 
 dollars a year from each pupil must defray the cost of provision 
 and the salaries of the teachers. 
 
 Tea and coffee never appeared upon the tables except on 
 Sunday morning, at which time crust coffee was added to the 
 usual menu. This was prepared by toasting dry pieces of bread 
 very brown, and then pouring boiling water over them. This, 
 though somewhat colorless, made, with the addition of milk and 
 sugar, a pleasant beverage. But the girls never seemed to miss 
 the luxuries of to-day, and their robust health made an isolated 
 sickroom almost needless. 
 
 In case of a slight indisposition, tea and toast would be 
 sent at meal times to the room of the pupil, but a small sum was 
 charged as the price of this extra privilege. One girl, who had 
 inherited an indolent disposition, but had brought with her an 
 abundant supply of pocket money, fell into the habit of taking 
 her breakfast in bed nearly every morning. This coming to the 
 knowledge of Miss Lyon, she herself took the tray to the pupil's 
 room one morning, saying that she had missed her from the 
 dining hall, and inquiring solicitously in regard to her pupil's 
 health. Before leaving she took up the tray and said, "My 
 young ladies are all of them so busy that in future I will myself 
 bring up your tea and toast whenever you need them." The 
 invalid was by this time completely recovered, with no danger 
 of a relapse. 
 
 Wliile Mary Lyon allowed her pupils to bring rocking- 
 chairs with them if they so desired, she discouraged their use 
 as far as possible. She said it made people lazy to sit in them. 
 She might well have echoed the plaint of an old man at South 
 Hadley Falls, "Nothing's good enough since the Revolutionary 
 War," said he, "it's nothing but change, change. Folks used 
 to think when they was sick, or old, that they was well off with 
 
88 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 arms to their cheers. But now it's nothing but teeter up and 
 teeter down in these 'ere rocking cheers." 
 
 She often warned her pupils against boastfulness, and the 
 assumption of social preeminence, relating to them an incident 
 that occurred during the first years of the seminary. One of the 
 students came to Miss Lyon with the request that she might at 
 her own expense have eggs every day with her breakfast. She 
 stated that her father was a rich man and she missed the home 
 luxuries, and added that her constitution was too delicate to 
 thrive upon warm griddle cakes with butter and molasses, — 
 which was then the usual morning meal. After some discussion 
 the desired permission was given. A few weeks later, happening 
 to be in the town which was the birthplace of the young lady in 
 question, and having an hour at her own disposal, she called 
 upon the parents and found them living in a small, three-roomed, 
 one-story house, with little furniture, and neither carpet nor 
 rug, save two or three mats braided from strips of old cloth. 
 She learned that the daughter had been out at service two years, 
 earning the money to carry her through a year at the seminary, 
 and to provide the showy gowns in which she delighted to ap- 
 pear. The mother invited her to stay for dinner, saying frankly 
 that roasted potatoes and bread was all that she could offer her. 
 Miss Lyon declined, as she had brought a lunch from home, and 
 her concluding remark in repeating this incident was, "Young 
 ladies, you can each draw your own moral." 
 
 One of the most striking features of the new institution was 
 the unity of purpose and the sincere friendship that existed be- 
 tween the school and the town's people. If Saturday night 
 brought a drifting snowstorm, so that by Sunday morning the 
 seminary yard would look like a prison enclosure, the pupils 
 well knew that volunteers, headed by Byron Smith and John 
 Dwight, would appear, each carrying a shovel, and a broad path 
 would soon be cleared from their very threshold to the door of 
 the church. 
 
 Sometimes in summer, the pupils, while taking the long 
 walks, which formed a part of each day's duty, paused to cast a 
 longing glance at the trees laden with cherries, peaches or pears, 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLKGK 80 
 
 that were at this time abundant in South Hadley. If this were 
 noticed by the owner, they were sure of a cordial invitation to 
 come into the orchard and help themselves to the luscious fruit, 
 nor were they ever allowed to return to the seminary empty 
 handed. 
 
 If a teacher, wearied by the week's routine, went calling in 
 the village on Wednesday afternoon, she was certain of an invi- 
 tation to stay to tea, which meant that a most bountiful repast 
 was in store for her, and often a little package of caraway 
 cookies would be slipped into her hand at parting. It was the 
 custom among the leading families of the town to invite all Miss 
 Lyon's teachers to a substantial meal at least once in every 
 year, and these outings did much to strengthen the friendly 
 relations between them. 
 
 The hospitality, however, was not all on one side. On a 
 Sabbath morning the pastor would give out notice from the 
 pulpit that all members of the congregation who were more than 
 fourteen years of age were invited to the seminary on Tuesday 
 evening. At the time appointed the guests were received at the 
 front door with words of welcome and were ushered into the 
 stately and solemn north parlor. After a season of social con- 
 verse, the company adjourned to the seminary hall and were 
 entertained with music and calisthenics. Refreshments were 
 served, sometimes consisting of raised biscuits and butter, 
 cherry preserves, loaf-cake and tea. 
 
 At half past nine the minister read a chapter from the Bible, 
 one or more hj'mns were sung, and after the closing prayer the 
 people of the town went home. 
 
 Sometimes the youngest classes in the Sabbath School were 
 invited to spend Wednesday afternoon at the seminary, and the 
 pupils entertained them so beautifully that the children, wlien 
 they went home, felt as if they had been on a trip to fairy land. 
 
 On the last Sabbath before the graduation exercises, notice 
 was given at church of the public examinations on Tuesday and 
 Wednesday, at which all the parish from twelve years of age 
 upward were invited to be present. Between the recitations 
 were interludes filled with music and compositions. The latter 
 
90 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 were always interesting. Tliere was one on "The Moral Effect 
 of Bad Bread," whose author became a famous Boston teacher. 
 Another was entitled, "Minus a Garret," and depicted, in a 
 witty manner, the trials of a family who moved into a house with 
 a roof which gave no attic room for the storing of trunks, etc. 
 
 One of the seniors, three years after the fovmding of the 
 seminary, wrote a farewell poem to her classmates, a few lines 
 of which will be quoted below: 
 
 I 
 Down, down to the tomb of the buried years. 
 That are shrined in song, that are veiled in tears, 
 Down, down with a soft and a stealthy tread. 
 Behold how the hastening months have sped. 
 And there cometh a hand on the wall to trace, 
 'They are numbered and finished, thy dearest days, 
 
 But far o 'er the earth though your steps may roam, 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Not a lovelier spot shall memory claim. 
 
 And your bosoms shall thrill at Holyoke's name.' 
 
 We are parting now, for a godlike race. 
 
 Let the arm untwine from its last embrace. 
 
 Be our course right on as the eagles fly, 
 
 Right on to a glorious destiny. 
 
 Give the farewell kiss, and the trembling hand, 
 
 For we part but to meet in a holier land. ' ' 
 
 Not only spiritually and intellectually was Mary Lyon 's life 
 an inspiration to those about her, but in the home circle her 
 tender, sympathetic nature drew all hearts toward her. Once 
 she saw a pupil standing lonely and sad beside the window, and 
 said to her, "I think you want to see your mother." The girl 
 answered, "I have no mother." Upon hearing this Miss Lyon 
 put her arms around her and said, tenderly, "I will be a mother 
 to you. Come to me any time you would go to her, if she were 
 here." 
 
 In describing her we might well misquote Emerson ; one can 
 teach simply by doing, and to Mary Lyon it was given to do that 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 91 
 
 which would have been impossible to any other woman of her 
 time. 
 
 "As chief commander, few her peers; none better knew to 
 choose her aids. Here lies the secret of a grand and useful life." 
 
 The weeks that followed the death of Mary Lyon were a 
 season of deep anxiety to the friends of the institution. None 
 of the teachers desired to assume the position of principal. 
 Finally, Miss Whitman, who had been associated with Miss 
 Lyon for years, consented to take charge of the school for a 
 time, but resigned before her marriage, which occurred in 1851. 
 The position of acting principal was then given to Miss Mary W. 
 Chapin, and the ensuing two years were perhaps the most criti- 
 cal period in the history of the seminary. Some of the pupils 
 who had never known Miss Lyon desired to abate the former 
 strictness of the rules, and believed that the new regime could 
 be brought to accept their views. Two of them tried to incite 
 an open revolt against certain wise and prudent regulations. 
 The ringleaders were, strange to say, daughters of a clergyman 
 of considerable note. It was now that the full value of an able 
 and discreet counsellor became evident. Eev. Eoswell Hawks, 
 and family, resided within the building, and his services had 
 been of inestimable worth to Mary Lyon from the first inception 
 of her plans. The record states that "Mr. Hawks was enlisted 
 in the cause as permanent agent as early as 1834. From town to 
 town and from house to house in western Massachusetts he pre- 
 sented its claims with such clearness, good sense, and patient 
 persistence, as to win people who had never before thought of 
 doing anything for female education. Always devoted to the 
 interests of the institution, he was president of its board of 
 trustees for many years." 
 
 He was a great favorite among the pupils, who always 
 spoke of him as "Pa Hawks," and invariably treated him with 
 affectionate respect. He now called a meeting of the trustees, 
 who promptly and unanimously voted that Miss Chapin should 
 have their unqualified support. Several of the pupils were ex- 
 pelled, and others suspended, but Mr. Hawks managed matters 
 with so much firmness, tact, and gentleness, that the incipient 
 
92 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 rebellion was crushed, and Miss Chapin continued to preside 
 over the seminary for fourteen years, both honored and beloved 
 by teachers and students. 
 
 After the foregoing episode it was the custom, in case any 
 new pupil showed a continuous spirit of insubordination, to 
 suggest to her that she "Stay out a year and mature." Such 
 absences rarely failed of their object. 
 
 Early in 1888 application was made to the legislature for a 
 change in the name of the institution. As "Mount Holyoke 
 Seminary and College" it would share with other such schools 
 the power of conferring degrees. On March 12, the day of the 
 great blizzard, this request was granted, but it took forty-eight 
 hours for the good news to force its way through the snowdrifts 
 in order to reach South Hadley. 
 
 The standard of scholarship for the entrance examinations 
 was, during the next few years, raised to such an extent that 
 on January 31, 1893, the legislature voted to drop the word 
 * ' Seminary, ' ' leaving the school a college. 
 
 Concerning this change. Miss Elizabeth Prentiss, a teacher 
 from 1866 to 1904, thus writes : 
 
 "A new Mount Holyoke has gradually arisen on the founda- 
 tions of the old. Fears that innovations may mar or diminish 
 the precious legacy which the present holds in trust, have given 
 place to that wise liberalism which, while preserving the best 
 of the past, does not fear to take possession of the present and 
 develop the larger and fuller life demanded by larger oppor- 
 timities and responsibilities." 
 
 The following tribute to Miss Lyon is taken from a poem 
 written by the late Mr. Andrew Judd, of South Hadley : 
 
 The mountain halos here are cast. 
 The nearer hills play loose and fast, 
 Now, clad afresh, the trees appear 
 Marking the spring-time of the year ; 
 Warmed with its breath the embryo leaves 
 Spin the deft web the summer weaves. 
 
FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 93 
 
 Yon Campus holds a lowly mound, 
 
 Humble the shaft that marks the ground 
 
 Whereon its stands ; whose grassy spears 
 
 Spring at the beck of watering tears i 
 
 From those who felt the charm and grace 
 
 That mirrored her immortal face. 
 
 When hath there been sublimer thought, 
 
 In crucial test, more fitly wrought, 
 
 In unison with heart and brain. 
 
 Uttered in sweeter human strain 
 
 Than wakened by this pioneer, 
 
 This avant-courier, whose career 
 
 Thrilled with its throbbing pulse of steel 
 
 The world's best thought for highest weal? 
 
 She blazed a path untrod before ; 
 
 • « • * 
 
 Out from the Book of books she wove 
 Her woof of life, to web of love ; 
 How grateful now the thought appears 
 That on the circling round of years 
 Comes centering to our good old town 
 So much that adds to its renown. 
 
CHAPTER SIX 
 
 THE EVOLUTIOJSr OF A CHUBCH 
 
 PROGRESS in civilization was, in the opinion of our fore- 
 fathers, measured by the improvement in church archi- 
 tecture. The rough, box-like structures, which the early 
 colonists dignified by the name of "meeting-houses," were often 
 but little more than log cabins covered within by a coat of 
 coarse mortar. 
 
 South Hadley Center has had five successive church build- 
 ings, only the first and last of which still remain. One, now 
 used as a dwelling, stands just west of Judson Hall, the other 
 being the present Congregational Church. 
 
 One hundred and eighty years ago on Sunday mornings, in 
 summer, the young people of the South Precinct might have been 
 seen threading the woodland path that skirted the base of Mount 
 Holyoke, on their way to the mother church in Old Hadley. 
 They were barefooted (for in those days shoes were far too 
 costly to be worn during the sixteen-mile tramp to and from 
 church). When the bridge at Fort River was reached the whole 
 procession halted, and, sitting upon the bank, laved their dusty 
 feet in the cool water ; then putting on their shoes and stockings 
 they proceeded decorously to the quaint, old building on Meeting 
 House Hill, prepared to listen to the prolonged discourses of 
 the Rev. Isaac Chauncey. 
 
 The settlers of Moody Corner were so thrifty that they wore 
 their ordinary working clothes to and from Fort River, exchang- 
 ing upon its wooded sides the old suit for the Sunday best, and 
 replacing them on their return. 
 
 If one considers the unremitting toil of the early colonists 
 when, as the old people used to say, knitting stockings and chop- 
 ping wood were their only recreations, it will not seem strange 
 that ere long the task of walking to and from church proved 
 irksome, and in November, 1727, we find them petitioning the 
 General Court, at Boston, that they might be made into a sepa- 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 95 
 
 rate precinct, which would entitle them to the privilege of hav- 
 ing a meeting house and minister of their own. This the court 
 was willing to grant, provided that at the expiration of two years 
 they should have forty families and during the following year 
 should settle a "learned and orthodox minister." 
 
 The first thing to be done was to agree upon a site for the 
 new meeting house. The spot chosen being, as was the custom 
 of that day, a slight elevation commanding a partial view of the 
 surrounding country, which in case of war might, perhaps, warn 
 of Indian approach. Their shrewd avoidance of forest fires was 
 shown by placing the building near the center of a sandy field 
 covered with low hucklelierry bushes. This field included the 
 present common of South Hadley Center. 
 
 The new meeting house was a plain, unpretentious, one- 
 roomed structure, forty feet long and thirty feet wide. 
 
 In 1733 they had already made choice of a minister. Grind- 
 all Rawson had been a restless, impetuous youth, to whom the 
 religious restraints of that age were almost unbearable. The 
 Puritan Sabbath was a long day for the boy, and it is said that 
 one Sunday afternoon, as a special privilege, he was allowed to 
 sit in the orchard for an hour while he committed to memory a 
 chapter from the Bible ; at the expiration of that time the Book 
 lay upon the ground unopened and the lad was found wholly 
 absorbed in a mimic battle between insects, which he had caught 
 and forced to fight. 
 
 Before he had entered upon his teens, the wise and tender 
 care of his father was withdrawn by the stern hand of Death, 
 and he found a temporary home in the house of Judge Sewall, 
 and a congenial plajTnate in the person of the judge's grandson, 
 Sam Hirst. 
 
 The laws of the commonwealth had long ago decreed that 
 whenever a minister was settled a house shoiald be provided for 
 him, and the young and already overburdened community were 
 now asked to build a parsonage. The erection of a meeting 
 house had already taxed their energies to the utmost. Trees 
 eighty feet high had been felled in order to "hugh" out the 
 massive beams which are still a wonder to those who see them. 
 
96 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Such buildings were usually framed upon the ground and 
 the raising of their heavy timbers was by no means an easy 
 task. It sometimes required the services of sixty picked men 
 for a week or more before the framework would stand in its 
 proper position. This work was voluntary and unpaid for, and 
 those men who lived at a distance of four or five miles found it 
 difficult to be present at the early hour set for commencing labor. 
 Their horses could not pace rapidly the narrow, winding cart 
 tracks, and pacing was at that time considered the natural gait 
 of a horse ; trotting not coming into favor till several decades 
 later. 
 
 The location of the minister's dwelling had already been 
 provided for in the land grant of 1720. It was to stand upon the 
 west side of the present Woodbridge street, and the old parson- 
 age still exists as the rear ell of the house now occupied by the 
 Misses Eastman. Its hand-made nails with their rough, irregu- 
 lar tops, and its carefully-prepared clapboards testify to the skill 
 and patient industry that were required for its construction. 
 
 On March 30, 1733, a committee had been appointed "to 
 order and proportion each man's labor, as near as may be con- 
 venient, about Mr. Eawson's house." This date is of interest 
 as being that of the first town meeting of which South Hadley 
 has preserved a record. 
 
 The living room of the new parsonage was of ample pro- 
 portions. Extending half-way across the western end was a 
 wide fireplace and an old-fashioned brick oven for the Satur- 
 day baking. In the northwest corner of the room was a deep 
 well with its old, oaken bucket. 
 
 As the summer waned, the people became impatient of their 
 long walk to the Hadley church, and in spite of the unfinished 
 state of their meeting house, it was voted that the ordination 
 of Rev. Grindall Rawson should take place on October 3, 1733. 
 
 The preparatory fast day, which always preceded the set- 
 tlement of a new minister, was observed, and a committee was 
 then appointed to take charge of the dinner and to send for the 
 neighboring "Ministers and Messengers." 
 
 In the main, an ordination dinner was in those times a joy- 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 97 
 
 ous and, in many cases, even a hilarious occasion. After the 
 solemn consecration of the candidate, by the laying on of hands 
 and the other attendant religious ceremonies, had been duly 
 performed, then clergy, as well as laity, gave themselves up to 
 the enjoyment of social festivities. To "provide suitably " meant 
 at that time to have the punch well brewed, the flip iron heated 
 and the toddy stick prepared for frequent use. 
 
 There may or may not have been spiced wine at this South 
 Hadley feast, but of a certainty there was an abundance of both 
 cider and rum. No one but a deacon or a man of equal piety 
 and probity was permitted to sell spirituous liquors, and his 
 duty allowed him to deal it out simply to "cheer and not in- 
 ebriate." Another qualification was also demanded of the 
 vendor, as is e\adenced by the licenses issued by our town offi- 
 cials. He must be, they state, not only a man of sound judgment, 
 who could tell at a glance how much spirit a customer could 
 bear, but he must also be a connoisseur whose cultured taste 
 could select the delicate jorum "fit to be offered to ministers." 
 
 Doubtless the tables groaned beneath the weight of edibles 
 that filled the pewter platters on that memorable third of Octo- 
 ber. There would be, first of all, according to the custom, a rich 
 plum pudding; for dessert preceded the course of meats a cen- 
 tury and a half ago. Then one looks for wild turkey, from the 
 side of Mt. Holyoke, baked in a big Dutch oven before the fire- 
 place and redolent of sage and other savory herbs. It was prob- 
 ably flanked by roasts of beef and pork, a leg of lamb and a 
 venison pasty. 
 
 There were no potatoes to grace the festal board, turnips 
 being used as a substitute, but it may be that they were enabled 
 to offer their favorite apple and gooseberry tarts, for history 
 tells us that the first settlers in Connecticut had with wise fore- 
 thought brought apple seeds with them from England. Our 
 ancestors had profited by their example, and they, in turn, had 
 taken apple seeds from Connecticut, and already there was one 
 flourishing orchard in South Hadley. 
 
 Some of our old inhabitants possessed spinits, a kind of 
 circular gridiron with a rotary motion. Upon this useful uten- 
 
98 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 sil delicious salmon, fresh from the river, were wont to be 
 broiled over the bed of coals. 
 
 Of the after-dinner speeches no record remains, but doubt- 
 less amusing stories were rehearsed; stories that have ever 
 since gone echoing down the halls of time. 
 
 But soon the chill winds of November, the early snows of 
 December and the tempestuous storms of January must have 
 made a rather dreary outlook for the new preacher. The town 
 had voted the preceding March to ceil and plaster the meeting 
 house and to provide joists for the gallery, but this had not been 
 done. The pulpit was simply a plain, wooden desk, behind which 
 the preacher stood on these wintry days muffled in his great 
 coat and with his hands incased in gloves or mittens to keep 
 them from freezing. 
 
 There was no artificial heat in the meeting house, the iron 
 boxes, known by the name of stoves, being then unheard and un- 
 thought of. The little footstoves made of perforated tin, in- 
 closing an iron pan which contained a handful of coals buried 
 in ashes, were just coming into use in the larger towns, but 
 were probably unknown in South Hadley. 
 
 Sometimes the roar of the wind rushing through the gap 
 between Mt. Tom and Mt. Holyoke must have almost drowned 
 the voice of the speaker, whose welcome "tenthly" gave notice 
 that the sermon was nearing its close. 
 
 In 1734 came the crucial test of the church harmony — the 
 seating of the meeting house. The committee were directed to 
 seat the congregation according to ratable estate, having due 
 regard to age and ability. To adjust matters on this delicate 
 scale often sowed seeds of dissension and bitterness that bore 
 fruit for years afterward, but the present committee appear to 
 have used rare tact, good judgment and care, for there was no 
 public dissatisfaction recorded, as was the case upon similar 
 occasions later on. 
 
 The first few years of the Rawson ministry were quiet and 
 uneventful, but in 1737 trouble arose in the church. It may be 
 that some family eccentricities now became apparent. It was 
 said of his cousin, the other Rev. Grindall Rawson, that hear- 
 
TPIE EVOU^TION OF A CHURCH 99 
 
 ing he had been made a subject of ridicule by certain members 
 of his congregation he preached fi'om the text "I Was the 
 Song of the Drunkard," and the sermon was such a stinging 
 one that at its close hardly a person was left in the house. 
 
 The first complaint against Mr. Rawson, brought by the 
 South Hadley church, would seem a very trivial pretext upon 
 which to hold a council of ministers. He was accused of having 
 traded horses with someone outside the town. Perhaps his 
 native shrewdness enabled him to get the best of the bargain 
 and complaint was made of conduct "unbecoming a minister." 
 
 At all events, a council, of which Rev. Johnathan Edwards, 
 of Northampton, was a member, was called. After hearing the 
 evidence on both sides, the coimcil voted that Grindall Rawson 
 was "Learned, orthodox and moral," and as these were the 
 three essentials required by law the incident was considered 
 closed. It proved, however, to be the entering wedge whereby 
 later dissensions crept into the church. 
 
 It should, perhaps, be added by way of explanation that 
 although at that period the towns in this region yielded an out- 
 ward show of reverence to their ministers, yet they often inter- 
 fered in personal matters to a degree that would be deemed 
 intolerable at the present day. 
 
 Thus, in the unpublished diary of a minister, who was set- 
 tled in an adjoining town and who had some financial trouble 
 with a parishioner to whom he had loaned money, we read such 
 entries as the following: 
 
 May 28, went to Walter Fairfield's and bought his cattle. 
 Gave him up a note that I had against him and I am to give 
 him more, if Johnathan Bardwell and John Cowls say that I 
 must." 
 
 This the two men did say a few days later. Afterward 
 meeting one of his congregation, who had absented himself from 
 church in order to go hunting, the pastor said to him, severely, 
 "Phelps, you have not been at meeting for three Sabbaths. If 
 you continue in your present course remember that very soon 
 you will be in hell and there will be no preaching there." 
 
100 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 "B-b-but, p-p-p-parson, " stuttered his parishioner, "it w-won't 
 be for the 1-lack of m-m-ministers." 
 
 It may be that this trouble with the church deepened Mr. 
 Rawson's desire for sympathy and companionship, for in the 
 succeeding May we find preparations for a wedding going on in 
 the house of the Hadley minister. Rev. Isaac Chauncey, whose 
 daughter, Dorothy, was the promised bride of our pastor. He 
 had meekly followed the tradition of the fathers, for there was 
 in this section a general expectation that the younger divines 
 would marry the daughters of other ministers. There was so 
 much clannishness among the members of this profession in the 
 early days that it even led them to propose that none but minis- 
 ters should be eligible as deputies to the General Court, but this 
 law failed of enactment. 
 
 There being no divinity schools at that time, students were 
 obliged to study theology in the homes of older ministers, where 
 they learned to be orthodox, and perhaps fell in love with one 
 of the pretty daughters of the household. If there were none, 
 the elder man usually gave to the younger at the close of his 
 novitiate a letter of introduction to some other minister who 
 had marriageable daughters, and under the transparent pre- 
 text of reviewing his theology the wooing was accomplished. 
 
 Some of the elderly people of South Hadley still recall an 
 amusing instance of this kind which happened to a reverend 
 ancestor of their family. 
 
 The pastor and his wife had been invited out to supper, and 
 when a young minister appeared with his letter of introduction 
 the three daughters with their little brother were obliged to do 
 the honors of the house. The youthful minister had a very prom- 
 inent nose and at the table the youngest daughter, intending to 
 ask him to pass the cheese, said, unconsciously, "Will you please 
 pass me your nose?" then, noticing her mistake, she blushed 
 and said hastily, "I mean the cheese." He gravely handed the 
 dish with no remark and nothing in his face betrayed his having 
 heard the first question. On the morning of his departure two 
 weeks later, her mother having sent her into the garden on an 
 errand, the young man presently followed her and said, in an 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHUECH 101 
 
 earnest voice, "On the day of my arrival you asked me to pass 
 you my nose ; will you permit me to offer with it my hand and my 
 heart?" And the wedding occurred shortly after. 
 
 A minister 's wedding in Hampshire county was at this time 
 considered an affair of importance. The first thing to be done 
 was to hold a town meeting in order to vote money for defraying 
 the expenses of the entertainment. 
 
 If the laws of etiquette which the county demanded upon 
 such occasions were obeyed, then a delegation of his parishioners 
 would accompany Mr. Rawson to flockanum, where a party from 
 Hadley would meet them and all proceed together to the home 
 of the bride. The marriage ceremony was usually performed 
 "in the edge of the evening." On the following morning the 
 party from South Hadley, increased by a score or more of the 
 friends of the bride, would return home. The fair Mistress Dor- 
 othy riding, according to custom, on a pillion behind one of the 
 deacons, perhaps in this case Ebenezer Moody, as he was one 
 of the bridegroom's most intimate friends. At Hockanum they 
 were probably met by a large company from our town who es- 
 corted them back to the house of Mr. Eawson, where fun and 
 feasting reigned until late in the evening. On the following day 
 the festivities were usually renewed so that those of the con- 
 gregation who could only leave home in turn might also share in 
 the joyous occasion. 
 
 Hardly had the wedding bells ceased their melody when a 
 new difficulty arose in the church. Eighty years had elapsed 
 since the first settlers of Hadley emigrated from Connecticut 
 in order to escape the Half-way Covenant, and now the ab- 
 horred doctrine had followed and overtaken them in their new 
 home. Championed by Rev. Solomon Stoddard, of North- 
 ampton, it had already become a prevailing article of belief in 
 Western Massachusetts, and a majority of the South Hadley 
 church members were ready to accept it as a tenet of their faith. 
 
 Then, too, the old superstition that the souls of infants 
 dying unbaptized would be lost wakened into new life during 
 this century, and our ministers baptized the children of their 
 parishioners upon the very day of their birth or within a few 
 
103 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 days after that event. Many non-church members desired this 
 sacrament for their children, deeming it consistent with the 
 teachings of Scripture. 
 
 But not so the Eev. Grindall Rawson. His determined will, 
 firm even to stubborness, opposed itself to this innovation and 
 a strong minority of the church upheld him. This party in- 
 cluded many of his kindred and intimate friends. Among them 
 was Chileab Smith, Third, the great-grandfather of Mary Lyon, 
 a man of dominant will and unflinching purpose, as beseemed her 
 ancestor. Her intense loyalty to whatever she believed to be 
 right, her unswerving honesty and truthfulness, and her high 
 courage that could not brook defeat, all seemed a heritage from 
 her brave old forefather. 
 
 Aside from the personal interest of the narrative, the story 
 of his life is well worth the telling simply for the light it sheds 
 upon the customs and manners of the day. His journal tells 
 us that at the age of seventeen he was "Pricked to the heart, 
 indeed, by the words of a dying young man. ' ' The words were 
 these: "Forever, forever, what not one drop of water! forever, 
 forever." These words being often repeated by him alarmed 
 me to the purpose. Before this I used to be frequently with 
 vain company but now I forsook them." This finally resulted 
 in his conversion and later on he united with the South Hadley 
 church. 
 
 Meanwhile three brothers named Clark, two of whom were 
 Baptists, had settled in the eastern part of South Hadley. James 
 Smith, brother of Chileab, who lived near them, was soon con- 
 verted to their faith and Chileab also adopted the same Baptist 
 belief. 
 
 This doughty warrior was generally victorious, as witness 
 the following entry in his journal. 
 
 "Simeon Harvey, of Deerfield, slandered me and at last got 
 to that pass that he threatened to take club-law, and then 
 bragged that I was afraid to come to Deerfield, 'For,' says he> 
 there are men here that will riddle him till they can see through 
 him as through a riddle.' " (A riddle was a kind of coarse 
 sieve in use at that day.) 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 103 
 
 But Simeon Harvey thus retracted his unkind speeches : 
 
 "January 28, 1772. I, Samuel Harvey, rashly and in a pas- 
 sion from time to time charged the said Smith unjustly, for 
 which I am heartily sorry and ask his forgiveness, and all other 
 peoples who heard me. Witness my hand — Simeon Harvey. I 
 also promise to set up this paper on the door of my house to 
 stand one month. 
 
 "Jonathan Wells In behalf of 
 
 ' ' Samuel Montague the church. ' ' 
 
 In 1732 Chileab had married Sarah, the daughter of Deacon 
 Ebenezer Moody, and as a part of her dowry received a certain 
 tract of land situated in South Hadley, about a mile north of 
 the church. It included a small elevation which has since always 
 been known as Chileab 's Hill, and was once a favorite Mecca of 
 the student girls in the earlier days of Mt. Holyoke Seminary. 
 Here he built himself a house which still remains as part of the 
 dwelling of H. C. Talbot. 
 
 After the departure of Rev. Grindall Rawson, Chileab 
 Smith, Third, went before the association and testified that "the 
 South Hadley church was dead in trespasses and sin, and 
 though they would not refuse to receive a converted person, yet 
 never the sooner for his being converted, so that if a person is 
 never no better than is required to be a member of their church 
 he must perish eternally." 
 
 Alienated from the South Hadley church by their treatment 
 of Mr, Rawson and himself, he afterward removed to Ashfield, 
 where only two settlers had preceded him. There he built a 
 house and planted an orchard. 
 
 As the colony increased in numbers, he began to hold divine 
 service at his own house on the Sabbath. After the breaking 
 out of the French and Indian War, finding that white men had 
 been massacred or taken prisoners but a few miles away, the 
 whole settlement migrated to the other towns. Three years later 
 they returned to their own homes, and a stockade was erected 
 which enclosed Chileab Smith's house, and was built mostly at 
 his own expense. It was composed of logs fifteen feet long, of 
 sufficient size to be bullet proof. These were placed side by side. 
 
104 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 having three feet sunken in the ground and twelve feet above the 
 surface. This fort was nearly one-hundred and fifty feet square 
 and had but one door of entrance, which was barricaded every 
 night. Upon the roof of the house was a watch tower capable 
 of containing six armed men. To this fort at night came all the 
 inhabitants of the village that they might sleep in safety. 
 
 When the Ashfield church learned of Chileab's Baptist pro- 
 clivities they dropped his name from their list of members. 
 Afterwards he refused to pay "rates" toward the support of the 
 minister. Church and town were at that time so closely con- 
 nected that in consequence of this non-payment of rates the 
 authorities sold at auction for thirty-five shillings his dwelling 
 house, orchard, family burying ground, and twenty acres of 
 land; and others of a like persuasion met with a similar fate. 
 
 Now, Chileab was not a man to be daunted even though his 
 neighbors, apparently forgetting the generous shelter and pro- 
 tection that he had formerly afforded them, came in a body to 
 mob him. They dug up his young apple trees and carried them 
 away, but this was too much for the proud spirit of Deacon 
 Moody's daughter, and tradition says that Mrs. Chileab went 
 out with a shovel in her hand which she used with such good effect 
 that presently the mob dispersed, bearing, however, in triumph 
 the young fruit trees, which were transplanted with such care 
 that to this day the chance visitor in that vicinity may still have 
 pointed out to him the famous "Baptist Apple Trees." 
 
 But this was not to be the end of the matter. Chileab Smith 
 determined to recover his property. Back and forth, to and 
 from Boston he went, through forests whose only aisle was a 
 narrow bridle path, and wearisome journeys they were. All the 
 Baptists in the state took up the matter and the uncertain Gene- 
 ral Court knew not what to do. Finally, at the suggestion of 
 Governor Hutchinson, the matter was referred to Royalty. 
 
 King George, the Third, in council, decreed that the land 
 should be restored to its original owners, and Chileab, with 
 those of his thirteen children who then survived, were reinstated 
 in their rights. 
 
 He was married several times, his last wedding occurring 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 105 
 
 when he was more than ninety years of age. Mary Lyon, we are 
 told, was present upon this occasion, as was also his son and 
 namesake, Chileab, who was destined to become a centenarian, 
 living until the success of Mount Holyoke Seminary was an ac- 
 complished fact. 
 
 Returning to the history of the Rev. Mr. Rawson, we find 
 him up to 1740 treated with an outward show of respect. Each 
 year his salarj' was voted and a day set on which to carry him 
 wood. The seaters had been directed to make room for Madam 
 Rawson in the meeting house, and when she and her husband 
 entered the whole congregation rose and stood in silence until 
 the two were seated. 
 
 The precinct had been very liberal with him in the matter 
 of settlement. Besides the Home Lot, he had been given wood- 
 land, meadow and pasture, while the General Court had granted 
 him a tract of land in the eastern part of Granby; the whole 
 aggregating over three hundred and seventy acres. The large 
 maple tree, still standing in front of the old parsonage, a little 
 to the southeast, and the twin maple which formerly stood a 
 little north of it, probably dated back to the time of our first 
 minister, and indicated his love of nature. 
 
 In 1740, the Half Way Covenant had so leavened the 
 churches of Hampshire County (wliich at this time included also 
 those of Hampden and Franklin) that the records state that 
 not a single church, and only one minister, upheld Jonathan 
 Edwards in his protest against this very liberal theologj'. Yet 
 the clearer vision of to-day approves the simple creed for which 
 Mr. Rawson fought. Let us, therefore, bear in mind that he was 
 in the right to such a degree that Protestantism has returned to 
 his views, deeming them both Scriptural and proper. 
 
 On February 25, 1740, at a meeting held in South Hadley, 
 it was voted that "It is the desire of this precinct that the Rev. 
 Mr. Rawson be dismissed from and lay down the work of the 
 ministry among us." Mr. Rawson took no notice of this request. 
 On January 12, of the succeeding year, they voted that they 
 would give him neither wood nor salary. Mr. Rawson insisted 
 
106 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 that until the town should settle its past indebtedness to him he 
 was still legally their pastor and should continue to preach. 
 
 A committee had been appointed to keep the keys of the 
 meeting house, it was not to be opened or shut except "Accord- 
 ing to their prudence." A minister not far away had been 
 locked out by his parishioners, for the manners of that day were 
 rude. Upon this the parson shouldered his axe and broke down 
 the door, then mounting the pulpit in triumph he preached a 
 vigorous sermon. Perhaps the committee people suspected that 
 the present incumbent might be tempted to do the same thing, 
 as indeed he was quite likely to. 
 
 Finally, on October 30, 1741, their last shred of patience 
 gave way. A committee of fifteen were ordered, in more explicit 
 language, in case he again attempted to preach, ^'To put him 
 forth from the meeting house." To this threat, which had been 
 so often repeated, he paid no attention. 
 
 The committee met, thirteen of them agreeing that now they 
 would obey instructions, only two dissenting. Some of the elders 
 proposed to delegate their sons to perform the task that had 
 been assigned them. 
 
 One Sabbath morning later on, Mr. Rawson appeared in 
 church. When he had ascended the pulpit stairs, one of the 
 deacons rose and solemnly warned him against attempting to 
 officiate. Mr. Eawson's reply was simply to begin reading one 
 of the Imprecatory Psalms, or, as another version of the story 
 has it, commencing a long prayer. A number of men now 
 advanced, and, taking him from the pulpit, either carried or 
 dragged him from the church. Tradition tells us that he con- 
 tinued the prayer or psalm until a handkerchief was placed 
 across his mouth. 
 
 This was Mr. Eawson's last attempt to enter the pulpit. 
 It was expected that he would cause the arrest of the yovmg men 
 who had forcibly removed him from the meeting house, and ten 
 pounds were raised to be used in their defense. He refrained 
 from taking the matter into court, but, none the less, refused to 
 resign his pastorate. 
 
 The precinct had pre\nously voted that they would pay him 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 107 
 
 up to November 20, 1740, "but not after that." As he would not 
 accept this overture, they extended the time until May of 1741, 
 when the council had advised a separation. Finding him still 
 obdurate, some peace-loving members of the community gave 
 him their personal bonds for the jiayment of one hundred pounds 
 if he would resign his pastoral office, which he did, and in 1742 
 the precinct repaid them. 
 
 Many of Mr. Eawson's friends had become so much embit- 
 tered against the church that they removed to other towns. The 
 discarded minister did not find it easy to secure another settle- 
 ment. When pastors were engaged for life there were but few 
 empty pulpits ; he must wait until a new church was formed and 
 a new building erected in some thinly populated district. 
 
 Three years passed and still he remained here. Then the 
 people of Hadlyme, Conn., hired him to preach there for three 
 months. At the expiration of the time they engaged him for 
 three months more on probation. In May, 1745, they invited him 
 to become their minister, taking the Cambridge Platform as the 
 basis of belief. 
 
 There had been dissension among the people of Hadlyme 
 in regard to the new church, but now they all united upon Mr. 
 Eawson, and imder his guidance they enjoyed a long season of 
 "satisfaction and rest." At his death, in 1777, the faithful con- 
 gregation erected a tombstone at their own expense. 
 
 After the resignation of their minister, the South Precinct 
 were not long in finding a successor. About two hundred years 
 before this. Rev. John Woodbridge, a clergyman of Wiltshire, 
 England, had named a son after himself and educated him for 
 the ministry. This practice had been continued from generation 
 to generation, until now South Hadley's second minister was the 
 ninth Rev. John Woodbridge in unbroken succession. His ances- 
 tral pride may have been gratified by the fact that his father was 
 a grandson of Thomas, the Earl of Dudley, while his mother was 
 a granddaughter of John Eliot, the "Apostle to the Indians." 
 He, himself, had married the daughter of a well-known minister, 
 and of his social supremacy there can be no doubt. Unlike his 
 
108 IM OLD SOUTU HADLEY 
 
 predecessor, he was dignified in bearing, prudent in council, and 
 full of gentleness and sjTnpathy toward all who were in sorrow. 
 
 During the greater part of his pastorate, Mr. Eawson had 
 refused, or at least neglected, to attend the meetings of the Min- 
 isters ' Association, but Mr. Woodbridge soon became one of its 
 most valued members. He was considered to be a man of such 
 sound judgment that people came from far and near to consult 
 him. A young divine, living nearly a dozen miles from here, 
 was falsely accused of having stolen a silver watch, and was 
 summoned to appear at the next session of the court in order to 
 answer to the charge. Several witnesses, or, as they were then 
 
 called, evidences, said they would testify that Mr. F had 
 
 entered the watchmaker 's shop on the afternoon of the day when 
 the watch was first missed. In his trouble and perplexity he 
 came to Eev. Mr. Woodbridge for coimsel. "Go home and take 
 up your work," said the latter, "and pay no attention to the 
 matter. Wlien the day of the trial comes God can plead your 
 cause." This suggestion was followed, and the real culprit, "a 
 coffee-colored negro," lulled into a feeling of security, incau- 
 tiously revealed the fact that he, himself, was in the shop on 
 the evening of the day in question. When the case was called in 
 court, the defendant was promptly acquitted and the negro 
 arrested. Taken by surprise, the latter confessed his guilt and 
 made restitution. The young preacher entered in his journal 
 (for in those days it was the fashion for ministers to keep a 
 diary), "I bless God that I followed Mr. Woodbridge 's advice." 
 
 April 21, 1742, was fixed upon as the date of the new minis- 
 ter's ordination. In the joj' attendant upon his settlement, it 
 was determined to make the dinner "An occasion." The pre- 
 cinct had raised ten pounds to be used in defense of the young 
 men who took Mr. Eawson from the pulpit. This money, they 
 now voted, should be used for the dinner; "as far as it will go" 
 was considerately added." , 
 
 For more than twenty years almonds and raisins, China 
 oranges, and spiced wine had adorned the tables of Boston's 
 elite, and who can say but that some ambitious member of the 
 committee may have ordered them now; for the Smiths as a 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 109 
 
 class were wealthy, and singularly enough the five men ap- 
 pointed to "pursue and accomplish what has been agreed on" 
 in the matter of Mr. Woodbridge 's settlement each answered to 
 that surname. They were Deacon John Smith, Corporal John 
 Smith, Jonathan Smith, Lieutenant Chileab Smith (not the an- 
 cestor of Mary Lyon), and William Smith. 
 
 For the past two months the people had been working busily 
 on the new parsonage. They had learned wisdom since locat- 
 ing their first one. It could not have been a pleasant experi- 
 ence for Rev. Grindall Rawson to walk a quarter of a mile 
 through pelting rains and drifting snows, in a town where 
 umbrellas had never been heard of, and then to stand for two 
 hours in a cold, damp church, his wet garments clinging about 
 him. If, however, owing to the severity of the storm and the 
 intensity of the cold, only seven worshipers were present, then 
 the minister had permission to take his small audience home 
 with him, and in the big living room preach the sermon he had 
 previously prepared. 
 
 In consideration of these facts, they now placed their par- 
 sonage within a few rods of the meeting house, upon the east 
 side of the street. The main part of the house, with its four 
 large rooms and pulpit window, was probably not finished until 
 several years later. In front of the old Dunlap house (our 
 second parsonage) was placed a row of young poplars, this 
 being, at that time, considered as the distinctive mark of a min- 
 ister's residence. 
 
 A day of fasting and prayer preceded the ordination of 
 Mr. Woodbridge (the term "installation" not having yet come 
 into vogue), and his settlement was followed by a special serv- 
 ice, when the congregation met to thank God for having given 
 them so good a minister. 
 
 The precinct had agreed to give Mr. Woodbridge fifty 
 loads of wood, and a date was set for it's delivery. Wood Day 
 was indeed a great day in South Hadley. Busy hands were 
 at work in the parsonage long before sun-up ; there were eggs to 
 be beaten and flour sifted, l)utter and milk to be placed ready 
 at hand, and apples to be pared. 
 
110 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Then, too, the big oven beside the chimney must be pre- 
 pared for use. This had been built with three courses of bricks 
 lying side by side, this thickness of the wall being necessary in 
 order to absorb and retain sufficient heat for the baking. There 
 was an opening into the chimney for the escape of smoke, which 
 was called the up-take or draft, and could be closed by means 
 of a piece of wrought iron attached to a long rod. The oven 
 was nearly filled with long, slender sticks of dry wood which 
 had been cut for this purpose, and a fire was kindled beneath 
 them. When this had become a bed of coals, both the up-take 
 and iron door of the oven were closed in order that the bricks 
 might become thoroughly heated. A little later the coals and 
 ashes were removed; then Madam Woodbridge advanced with 
 arm bared to the elbow, and putting her hand into the oven as 
 far as she could reach, counted up to thirty. If the heat were 
 too great for her to bear, then the oven must be cooled before 
 using. Later on another method came into use here. Flour 
 was sprinkled upon the floor of the oven, and the expert house- 
 wife could judge of the heat by the quickness with which it 
 browned. 
 
 A flat shovel with a long handle, called a slice, was now 
 well floured, and from this loaves of wheat and of rye bread 
 were deftly slipped to the farther end of the oven. At this era 
 there were no bread pans, and when these useful articles did ap- 
 pear, about 1800, they were simply roimd, flat disks of tin, with- 
 out sides. 
 
 It was customary in such families as the Woodbridge 's to 
 scatter oak leaves upon the floor of the oven, and while the 
 mother was busy it was considered a nice plan to get the chil- 
 dren out of the way by sending them leafing, as it was called. 
 
 Next after the bread came pandowdies, Indian puddings 
 and loaf cake, followed by apple, mince and pumpkin pies, the 
 remaining space being filled with ginger snaps and cookies. 
 While they baked in quiet seclusion, the kettle of hissing fat 
 that hung from the crane tossed and turned the golden brown 
 nutcakes. Kindly neighbors, too, were bringing in provisions. 
 
TIIK KVOl.HTION OK A (111 l.'CII 111 
 
 wliilc iiiciuitiiiic llic sliir(l\' rnnncrs outside wcic cutting llio 
 wood 1111(1 piling it up nciitly, rcndy I'or use. 
 
 'I'lu' (HiJilily of tlu' wood givi'u to ii iiiiiiislcr was said to Ito 
 a sure tost, of liis poi)ularity. 'Plial hrouglit by liis friends was 
 certiiin to bo straight and sound, wiiile those h'ss kindly dis- 
 posed toward liim would sometimes bring sticks that wcro 
 crookod and full of knots. 
 
 After the wood bad all been jiiled, the men adjourned to 
 the bous(>, and the rooms echoed with the clamor of merry 
 tongues and loud voiced laughter. When tlu- feast was spread, 
 the beof, pork and mutton roasted on the s|iil, being Hanked by 
 dishes of eider-apple sauce and Dutch cheese, with, alas! Hip, 
 toddy and eggnogg e\-er\wliere; w liat then were llie covelcd 
 liuskiug bees and apple parings of the young people in com- 
 parison with the .joys of Wood Day"/ 
 
 There Avas aiu)ther annual appointment somewhat less 
 jovial than this; it was liate Day. It bad been agreed that a 
 certain i)art of Mr. Woodbridgc's salary — sometimes a third, 
 sometimes a (|inirter— should be i)aid in wheat, Indian corn, rye 
 and lla.x. There were no corn barns at that tinu', and the peo- 
 ple were e.xpectcd to carry their grain up to the low raftered 
 chamber over the kitchen, or into the generous sized garret, 
 above the nuiin bouse. It was now tliat a man's real character 
 was made manifest. The generous brouglil laige measure, and 
 of their best; tlie stingy and axaricions used their poorer (|ual- 
 ity for this i)urpose and gave scanty weight. Sometimes, how- 
 ever, they were detected. A minister of (lu- county records in 
 bis diary: "F declined taking some corn that Cnpi. C sent here 
 tbis day. I think I acted upon a principle of justice. I desire 
 tbat the Cajitain may be kept calm an<l composed." 
 
 Tn 174i?, this being the usual time for again seating the 
 meeting house, a eonnnittce was apjiointed to take cbai'ge of the 
 matter. 
 
 Tbe size of the congregalion had increased as new settlers 
 joined the comnnmity, and additional seats had been made in 
 tbe gallery, some of these being built from the publi<' funds, oth- 
 ers at the CNpense of private indixiduals. At- tlie meeting on 
 
112 TN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 March 14 it was generously voted that "those persons which 
 have built pews in the gallery have liberty to sit in them during 
 the pleasure of the precinct." 
 
 Since the men who had been chosen to seat the meeting 
 house could not have the arrogance to assign themselves the 
 highest places, and did not wish to sit for three years in the 
 lowest ones, a second committee was appointed whose duty it 
 was to seat the seaters. 
 
 William Montague, who lived in what is now Granby Cen- 
 ter, was pretty sure to be on one or the other of the two boards, 
 and he was given a place in the highest rank on the men's side. 
 His wife sat with Madam Woodbridge, in the Great Pew, next 
 the pulpit. The Widow Kellogg, who six years later became his 
 second wife, had her choice between the foreseat and the third. 
 She was the daughter of Deacon John Smith, whose father had 
 died after a lingering illness which was supposed to have been 
 brought upon him by the potent spell of a malevolent witch. She 
 was treated with distinction, for during her eight years of 
 widowhood she was supposed to look after the sick in a general 
 way. Trained nurses were not to be had, and a serious case of 
 illness was a neighborhood affair. The younger women were 
 expected to go as "watchers" at night, while the older ones 
 carried in food for the family and sat by the bedside of the 
 patient by day. If the sickness proved fatal, two persons were 
 detailed "to sit up all night with the corpse," and this cus- 
 tom was kept up in South Hadley imtil the middle of the last 
 century. 
 
 In the pew by the east door sat Deacon John Smith and his 
 wife, also their next neighbors on Cold Hill, Mr. and Mrs. Luke 
 Montague. 
 
 The Northampton Church, five years before, had positively 
 forbidden any intermingling of the sexes in seating the meet- 
 ing house, and Deacon Smith 2d and Luke Montague were now 
 the only men who ventured to sit with their families on the 
 woman's side of the house. But public opinion followed their 
 lead, and twenty years later the separation of the sexes in our 
 church was abandoned. 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 113 
 
 In 1743 there devolved upon another John Smith the most 
 difficult and perplexing duty that fell to the lot of the deacon's 
 office. It is thus stated in the town records: "Voted that 
 Deacon John Smith 1st acquaint people where to sit in the 
 meeting house." This affair of "seating the meeting house" in 
 most towns gave rise to much bitter wrangling and many neigh- 
 borhood quarrels. 
 
 It was performed by a committee whose instructions in 
 South Hadley at this time were: "To have regard to age, estate 
 and qualifications." That the old people should sit near the 
 pulpit in order to hear well, all were agreed, but when it came 
 by placing the men of wealth in the high seats and the poorer 
 brethren away back by the door — that was quite another mat- 
 ter. Then, too, in regard to "Qualifications," who should say 
 whether or not the Hillyers, with their great strength and skill 
 in boating, were superior to Nat Groodale, who lured the wild 
 turkeys from Mt. Holyoke down to the very home lots of the 
 settlers with his wonderful bird calls ? Then, too, military titles 
 entailed fresh complications, for the families of the officers were 
 even more tenacious of their rank than were the officers them- 
 selves. 
 
 They used to tell of one old woman who was continually 
 repeating that her son had been in the army. "He was either a 
 genny-rill or a corpo-rill, I can never remember which, but it 
 was some kind of a 'rill,' " she reiterated. 
 
 There was some kind of a rill in a good many families. 
 Thus: In seating the John Smiths, of whom we had five, Ser- 
 geant John's wife must have a higher place than the wife of 
 Corporal John, and plain John Smith must go still lower. 
 Deacon John Smith 1st sat, of course, in front of the pulpit. 
 
 Once in every three years a new allotment of seats was 
 made, and it was his duty for three successive Sabbaths to read 
 the list aloud at the close of the morning service. If on the 
 fourth Sabliath the congregation did not take the seats that had 
 been assigned them it was his duty to reprove them. 
 
 In case any malcontent still refused to sit in his appointed 
 place, the custom of other towns was to have the erring brother 
 
114 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 fined by the court; but our shrewd and kindly deacons simply 
 ordered the tithing men (of whom we had three) to conduct 
 the offender to the Pouting Pew, and if, during the ensuing week 
 the children in the streets called after him, "There goes Pout- 
 ing Thomas," or John, or Richard, or Samuel, as the case 
 might be, there were none to say them nay. 
 
 Our number of deacons in active service was limited to two, 
 as the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered in a 
 different way from our present system. The communicants 
 ranged themselves in a procession, and going up one aisle 
 passed in front of the deacons' pew. One of the latter handed 
 them the bread, the other the wine. They then returned to 
 their seats by another aisle, leaving, at least once a year, a con- 
 tribution of twelve and one-half cents each upon the deacon's 
 table to defray the expenses of the communion service. 
 
 Deacon Silas Smith and Deacon Enoch Wliite both died in 
 1813, and two years later we find that Deacon Selah Smith and 
 Deacon Levi Judd had left the pew under the pulpit and sat, ex- 
 cept on Sacramental occasions, with the congregation. 
 
 When the church was remodeled in 1825, the deacon's pew 
 was removed and modern methods were then adopted at our 
 communion services. 
 
 In 1760 the population had increased to such an extent 
 that the necessity for a larger meeting house was believed to 
 be imperative. The dwellers in the eastern part of the town — 
 now Granby — naturally expected that the new building would 
 be placed, as they said, near the center of travel, and they sug- 
 gested that it should be located on Cold Hill, a few rods north- 
 east of the DeWitt homestead. This proposal was rejected, and 
 a bitter contest ensued, which finally ended in the erection of 
 two houses of worship, and a division of the town. 
 
 In 1761 South Hadley began building a meeting house upon 
 nearly the same site as that of the present church. A party of 
 men from the eastern precinct carried off one night several of 
 the huge posts intended for use in the framework, and hid them 
 in the Pichawamiche Swamp. The story that some of the 
 Granby women seated themselves upon these timbers and sang 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 115 
 
 songs of triumph is said to be untrue, but one thing is certain, 
 they composed upon this occasion verses that were handed down 
 for over a century. The rlijnning mania, so often prevalent in 
 this section, sometimes proved an excellent safety valve. 
 
 The old folks used to tell how a certain man accused the tax 
 collector of having cheated him, and was preparing to take 
 summary vengeance. One of the deacons sought to dissuade him 
 in calm and persuasive tones. The aggrieved taxpayer replied 
 in the vernacular of that day : 
 
 "No man on this 'arth 
 Can let down my wrath 
 Like you." 
 
 Upon this the deacon advised his companion to write the collec- 
 tor a letter in rhyme. The man consented, but before the poem 
 was finished his anger had subsided, and the matter was ad- 
 justed to the satisfaction of both parties. 
 
 This second church was probably a fair type of the archi- 
 tectural fashion of that day. The building was sixty feet in 
 length and forty-five in width, and there were three doors of 
 entrance, two of which were eventually closed up. The pews 
 were for the most part seven feet long and six feet wide. Hard, 
 uncushioned seats ran round three sides of these generous en- 
 closures, and in the center was an open space where the children 
 could sit on their little footstools and crickets, and in summer- 
 time beguile the long hours by eating dill and caraway, or, 
 better still, fennel, which grew in wild luxuriance in one cor- 
 ner of Mr. Woodbridge's garden. The wooden seats of the eld 
 ers were hinged, and could be dropped down while the congre- 
 gation were standing, allowing the old people to rest themselves 
 by leaning against the high-backed pews. This could be done 
 quietly, but mischievous boys sometimes tried to shorten the 
 exercises by rattling the seats. 
 
 From a journal of a much-tried pastor living in this region, 
 we glean the following: 
 
 "October 10th. After the first prayer, in the pew in which 
 the young men sat, the seats made a terrible rattling, beyond 
 
116 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 what I should have thought possible. After the blessing was 
 pronounced C. Clark spoke and said that such rattling was 
 contrary to all order and a violation of the Sabbath, and he 
 thought I ought to reprove them. I replied to him: 'I am sensi- 
 ble that this is indeed a violation of the Sabbath, and contrary 
 to the gospel rule and order, but you know what Solomon says 
 will be the fate of him who reproves a scorner. I have reproved 
 them, but they will not forbear. I have done.' I went out of 
 the pulpit. Mr. Clark said that he thought that all who feared 
 God (or words to that purpose) ought to bear testimony against 
 such practices, and that if the faithful would stand by him he 
 would prosecute or drive it to the end of the law. I told liim I 
 would bear testimony against it in all proper ways. I went out 
 of the meeting house, saw Sergeant B., and said to him: 'Ser- 
 geant B., I wonder that you would let or allow your son to be 
 among them.' He said: 'I don't know that he is one of them.' 
 I replied, 'It is time for you to know whether he is one of them 
 or not. I have heard that he has said that you never forbid 
 his rattling the seats. I would have you take care that you be 
 not guilty of the sin of Eli.' The seats rattled P. M." 
 
 The pulpit stood on the east side of the meeting house ; in 
 front of it an aisle six feet in width, leading to the principal en- 
 trance at the west door, afforded ample room for the catechizing 
 of children during the Sunday service. This broad aisle was 
 also supposed to add dignity to the office of minister, since all 
 conversation must cease, even in the slightest whisper, at the 
 moment Eev. Mr. Woodbridge appeared. After the belfry tower 
 was added, about 1792, the town gave a new mark of their ap- 
 preciation to Rev. Joel Hayes, who was then its pastor. It was 
 the rule that the bell should begin to ring fifteen minutes before 
 the commencement of divine service. But someone was ap- 
 pointed to watch the house of Mr. Hayes, and inform the bell 
 ringer the moment the minister and his family started for the 
 church. Notice of this event was communicated by an immedi- 
 ate change from the ringing to the tolling of the bell. This 
 sound recalled the congregation, who in summertime often 
 loitered about the common, but were expected to be in their 
 
THE EVOLUTIO^r OF A CHUECH 117 
 
 propel' places when the minister entered. After Mr. Hayes had 
 ascended the pulpit stairs and disposed of his hat, he turned and 
 bowed to the people, which was the customary signal that they 
 were at liberty to seat themselves. 
 
 The steep and narrow stairway which led into the pulpit 
 had a railing on the side and at the top a latticed gate whereby 
 the minister could shut out all intruders. The corresponding 
 floor space upon the other side of the pulpit was occupied by a 
 pew intended for widows, and may have been built in after the 
 Revolutionary War. There being no vestibule, the one stair- 
 case leading to the gallery was placed in the southwest corner. 
 Next it on the east stood a most undesirable pew, partly under 
 the stairs. Some inventive mind suggested that this be named 
 the Pouting Pew, and be used as a place of exile for unruly and 
 violent members of the congregation. The proposal was re- 
 ceived with favor, and the plan of the church in 1815 still re- 
 tained this unique title. 
 
 In 1791 Colonel Woodbridge presented the church with a 
 bell, and later a tower was added to the meeting house upon its 
 northern side. The old soimding board was utilized, it is said, 
 by becoming a part of the second story of the belfry tower. A 
 red satin curtain, also the gift of Colonel Woodbridge, was hung 
 behind the pulpit, making a cheerful background for the min- 
 ister. About 1826 the house was remodeled, and "slips" were 
 su])stituted for the old-fashioned pews. The high pulpit was 
 moved to the north side, and the west door was replaced by a 
 window. Twelve years later, the increasing number of sem- 
 inary girls led to the erection of more seats in the unoccupied 
 floor space at the rear of the house. 
 
 The front of a venerable Baptist church in Providence, 
 Rhode Island, bore for many years this inscription: "Built for 
 the worship of God, and to hold commencements in." Mary 
 Lyon did not read this motto above the entrance to the South 
 Hadley meeting house. She desired to have the graduating ex- 
 ercises of her first senior class take place in the seminary hall. 
 This seemed to her the most fitting plan. The trustees did not 
 agree with her, and she finally yielded to their wishes. The 
 
118 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 first "Anniversary Day" was celebrated in the church, which 
 was crowded to its utmost capacity. The wisdom of this ar- 
 rangement was soon evident. Many of the donors to this new 
 enterprise witnessed its success with a feeling of gratified pride. 
 For seven years all members of the seminary were given free 
 sittings in our church, but their numbers increased to such an 
 extent that in 1844 the parish was compelled to erect a new 
 edifice. The seminary trustees contributed three thousand dol- 
 lars towards the cost of the building, and until it was destroyed 
 by fire in 1875, the school enjoyed the free use of every third pew 
 all over the church, and were not asked to pay any part of the 
 minister's salary or other expenses, unless they used extra 
 sittings. 
 
 Miss Lyon showed her gratitude for this generosity by pre- 
 senting the church with a large Bible, suitable for the pulpit. 
 This was saved from two fires by the personal daring of men 
 who entered the burning churches and rescued what is now a 
 precious relic of the past. Many an able and vigorous sermou 
 has been preached to us upon texts read aloud from this Bible, 
 and in olden times the text of the sermon held a far more im- 
 portant place than at present. Some pastors even required 
 their congregations to rise and stand while it was being read. 
 The minister knew as he looked at his congregation that on 
 Monday morning every pupil in our schools would be asked to 
 repeat the text and as much of the sermon as he could remember, 
 and woe to the child who had forgotten it, or misbehaved at 
 church. The practice of repeating the text and the heads of the 
 sermon was kept up in female seminaries till the middle of the 
 nineteenth century. Old people always said that the value of 
 the habit thus formed could hardly be overestimated. 
 
 Texts were at that time usually pertinent to the occasion. 
 Thus, when on March 20, 1801, the Connecticut Eiver, swollen 
 by the greatest freshet ever known in its history, burst its 
 bounds and carried away banks and bridges, sweeping out flocks 
 and herds, and flooding some of our meadows to a depth of 
 twenty feet, our minister preached from Amos 9 :5 : "And it shall 
 rise up wholly like a flood. ' ' Upon the death of one of our pas- 
 
THE EVOLUTIOX OP A CHURCH 119 
 
 tors, the text of the funeral sermon was :" He maketli * * * 
 his ministers a flame of fire." After the alarm at Lexington 
 the text chosen was: "Wlien the host goeth forth against thine 
 enemies, then keep thee from every wicked thing. ' ' Later when 
 a company of soldiers set out for the army, a sermon was 
 preached from the words: "The Lord thy God walketh in the 
 midst of thy camp, to deliver thee and to give up thine enemies 
 before thee." The last clause of a text from Jeremiah was 
 most comforting to the friends of these volunteers, "And they 
 shall come again from the land of the enemy." 
 
 It was said of Eev. Joseph D. Condit, the town's fifth min- 
 ister, that however severe upon evil-doers his sermon might 
 be, his closing remarks always contained some gentle allusion 
 to the boundless love and mercy of Christ, and his hearers went 
 home with beautiful thoughts of God. He was a peace-loving 
 man, and was greatly beloved in the community. Mr. Condit 
 was in the habit of visiting each school once in two months, and 
 his presence was welcomed in every neighborhood. His wife 
 often accompanied him on his pastoral calls, and many and 
 urgent were the requests that they would stay to tea. His usual 
 reply was a pleasant "Thank you. But please remember that 
 all we want for supper is your good bread and milk, and some 
 of your gingerbread." 
 
 Upon one of these occasions it began to rain during the 
 afternoon, and as he was at the time suffering from a severe 
 cold, his wife was a little anxious. Just as they were leaving the 
 home of their hostess a messenger appeared with the request 
 that he come to the bedside of a sick man who desired to speak 
 with him. "It would be a great risk," said Mrs. Condit, firmly, 
 "and you cannot go." "The man needs me," he replied, "and 
 whatever I ought to do I can do," and he accordingly went. 
 
 In 1847 he became very ill and one Sunday morning repeated 
 slowly his favorite hjTnn, "Welcome, sweet day of rest." A few 
 moments later he said, "Before this day closes I shall have en- 
 tered into an eternal Sabbath. ' ' After the morning service had 
 co mm enced he told those about him that he would like to bid 
 each one of his people good-bye. This message was carried 
 
120 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 to the church, and one by one the worshipers went silently over 
 to the parsonage, where he took each by the hand, speaking 
 gentle words of farewell, and with tears in their eyes they re- 
 turned to their places in the sanctuary. Before sunset he had, 
 as the Hawaiians say, entered upon that narrow pathway which 
 knows no backward turning. At his request there was placed 
 upon his breast in the casket a paper containing only these three 
 words — Grace, Grace, Grace. His daily rule of conduct was thus 
 given in his own words: "Put off the world; put on Christ; 
 live for God and an Eternal Heaven." 
 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 THE INDIANS 
 
 HALF a century ago the old people used to say that a cer- 
 tain elevation of land in the northern part of Granby, 
 called Mt. Norwottuek, was formerly the winter head- 
 quarters of the Indian tribe who ranged our forests. The truth 
 of this statement is confirmed by an incident which was related 
 by the late Moses White, of Southwick. 
 
 One day in the month of February, many years ago, he 
 was chopping wood on the south side of the Holyoke Range when 
 his companion said: "I can show you cowslips in blossom," an 
 assertion which Moses Wliite doubted. The next day, after 
 having eaten their dinner, his companion led him up the side of 
 Mt. Norwottuek to the place where a warm spring was flowing 
 from beneath a rock. For several feet around this spring the 
 grass was as green as in the middle of May, and close to it the 
 cowslips were in full bloom, while beyond this patch of green 
 the ground was deeply covered by snow. 
 
 This may, at first thought, appear improbable, but a sim- 
 ilar spring, it is said, still exists on Chicopee Plains, on the land 
 belonging to Henry Baker, of Granby, and is one of those 
 that unite to form Cooley's Brook, the source of Chicopee 's 
 water supply. 
 
 In summer the favorite camping grounds of the Indians 
 were the one near the Slipe Meadow, in Granby, and the other 
 a little above Smith's Ferry, between the two points of junc- 
 tion where Stony Brook and Bachelor's River, as it was then 
 called, flow into the Connecticut. 
 
 But the advent of civilization has banished these ancient 
 lords of the manor and the cutting away of the forests has so 
 dwarfed the old-time river that it is now known only as Bach- 
 elor's Brook, and from like causes the spring upon the side of 
 Mt. Norwottuek may also have disappeared. Most of the 
 mounds, too, each of which was supposed to mark an Indian 
 
122 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 grave, have been leveled, altliough two of them remained on or 
 near Woodbridge street as late as 1850. The principal burial 
 ground of the red men was on Bridge street, a little north of 
 the drinking fountain. Head smashers, stone axes, tomahawks, 
 arrows and other implements of war are still uncovered by plow 
 and harrow. 
 
 Many and varied are the legends that have been handed 
 down by our forefathers ; perhaps the earliest and least widely 
 known is the following: 
 
 Although it was a time of peace, one of Hadley's young men 
 had given great offense to the South Hadley Indians. It may be 
 that he was too ardent and persevering a hunter south of the 
 mountain upon lands that they looked upon as peculiarly their 
 own, for in selling their domains they did not consider that they 
 were giving up their right to dwell and hunt therein. But what- 
 ever may have been their cause of complaint the feeling against 
 him became so bitter that a council was called in order to decide 
 ujDon some fitting punishment. One shrewd Indian, well versed 
 in the ways of white people, suggested that the capture of the 
 young man's sweetheart would prove a most effective penalty 
 for his crime. This plan met with approval and was carried out, ' 
 the girl being concealed in their camp at South Hadley on the 
 eastern bank of the Connecticut. So quietly had the abduction 
 been managed that for weeks no trace of the captured maiden 
 could be obtained. 
 
 At last her whereabouts was discovered; she was impris- 
 oned in a wigwam at the rear of the Indian camp, and it is safe to 
 conclude, since it was usual in all such cases, that two women 
 slept side by side, across the doorway of the hut, making escape, 
 as they supposed, impossible. One moonlight night the very 
 best rowers in Hadley embarked at midnight and floated silently 
 down the river. When they had nearly reached the encamp- 
 ment they beached their boat, and with a cunning which they 
 had learned from the Indians themselves, stole softly through 
 the woods until they had reached their goal, and breathed rather 
 than whispered their instructions to the prisoner. 
 
 Long knives had been provided, the intention being to make 
 
THE INDIANS 1-23 
 
 an opening in the back of the wigwam, an opening which would 
 enable them to grasp the prostrate maiden by the shoulders and 
 draw her gently forth. 
 
 When this feat had been successfully accomplished the 
 party retreated quickly and quietly to the boat. At this point a 
 new difficulty awaited them. They had slipped silently down 
 with the current, but oars must be used in the voyage up stream 
 and the swish of the water would be sure to arouse the sleeping 
 camp. The English had not yet learned the Indian art of row- 
 ing silently by turning the blade of the oar flat and taking their 
 next stroke without lifting it from the water. Go they must, and 
 go they did, but their forecast proved true, for an Indian canoe 
 was speedily manned and sent in pursuit of them. 
 
 The young lover had chosen his crew wisely, and they held 
 their distance well while with an even sweep the oars flashed 
 and gleamed in the silver light. At the Oxbow they turned in 
 order to make a circuit of the peninsula, the river not having 
 then broken through its new channel, so that a neck of land con- 
 nected it with the shore. Hardly had they rounded its western 
 point when they saw that the Indians, instead of following in 
 their wake, had landed, and were carrying the canoe upon their 
 shoulders across this narrow strip of land. Launching it upon 
 the other side, they were soon abreast of the white men and 
 between them and Hadley. For the moment no hope remained. 
 Then someone remembered that the chief, who lived upon the 
 island north of thom, was one whose authority was respected 
 by every member of the tribe, and they resolved to ask his pro- 
 tection. The Indians divined their purpose, and they also 
 steered for the island, the two parties landing at nearly the 
 same time. The Indians wished to tomahawk the whites, but the 
 old chief forbade them. Each told his story, both claiming the 
 captive. After some meditation the chief announced that the 
 case should be decided by a wrestling match between one from 
 among the red men and one from the rescue party. Whoever 
 first threw his opponent, his side won. 
 
 The Indians were jubilant, for one of their most famous 
 athletes was with them, and he was immediately advanced as 
 
I'M ■ IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 their champion. The young lover begged that he might be the 
 one to contend with him. "It is your right," said his comrades, 
 and the contest began. For some time victory seemed to hang 
 in the balance, the one was supple and experienced, the other 
 nerved to desperation by the peril of his sweetheart. At last, 
 by an almost superhuman effort, the young white man threw 
 his adversary. 
 
 The chief then directed the Indians to return to their camp, 
 an order which was sullenly obeyed. 
 
 Then the exultant white men rowed merrily home, and if 
 their song of triumph, as they passed down the broad street, 
 wakened their sleeping neighbors, there were none to say them 
 nay, for the whole town rejoiced at the return of the captive 
 maiden. 
 
 There were other traditions with a more tragic ending. 
 One of these was the story of the Indian girl whose lover had 
 been slain by the white men, and who climbed to the summit 
 of the cliff overhanging that mass of trap rock formerly called 
 the Devil's Garden, stretching up her arms toward Heaven as if 
 to invoke Divine vengeance upon her foes, she threw herself 
 down the jagged incline, and among the early settlers the place 
 was afterwards known as Heartbreak Hill. 
 
 Then, too, there is a legend that the last of his tribe stood 
 on Titan 's Pier and, surveying their once happy hunting ground, 
 now tilled by the relentless hand of the white man, leaped, hope- 
 less and disheartened, into the deep pool that waited beneath. 
 
 "South Hadley always hated the Indians," was the codicil 
 to nearly every local legacy of fact which has been handed down 
 to posterity concerning the aborigines, and indeed why should 
 they not? The Norwottucks, it is true, were more quiet and 
 peaceable than most of their race. But there were savage tribes 
 farther afield whose unparalleled cruelties will never be forgot- 
 ten. Take, for example, the case of Deacon Joseph Eastman, 
 one of the early proprietors of our town and the friend and 
 helper of our first minister. 
 
 Deacon Joseph was the ancestor of all the Eastmans and 
 most of the Smiths in this region. Joseph, while still a youth. 
 
THE INDIANS 135 
 
 entered the family of Rev. John Williams of Deerfield in order 
 to prepare himself for the work of the ministry. Two soldiers 
 who had been quartered there for the protection of the town slept 
 in the second story of the dwelling. 
 
 One cold night in winter, when the ground was covered with 
 ice and snow and the wind swept remorselessly past, they were 
 awakened by the sound of heavy blows upon the front door 
 and the voice of the minister calling up the stairway that the 
 Indians were upon them. One of the soldiers, with a quickness 
 of perception that easily accounted for his rapid promotion in 
 military rank, throw his heavy cloak from the window and, 
 ^barefooted as he was, jumped out upon it. Not so Joseph and 
 the other soldier. Hardly had they time to grasp their shoes 
 and stockings before the door crashed in and they foimd them- 
 selves in the hands of their savage foes. Bound hand and foot, 
 they waited, shivering in the icy air, while the house was being 
 pillaged. The babj", wakened by the noise, uttered a cry, but the 
 little voice was instantly stilled forever. 
 
 So sudden and simultaneous had been the attack upon the 
 whole neighborhood that the underground passages leading 
 from house to house, which had been prepared for just such an 
 emergenc)', proved wholly useless. 
 
 After the work of devastation was complete the captives 
 were led from the house, which was then burned to the ground. 
 Who can tell of that long journey to Canada? 
 
 By day Joseph marched side by side with his Indian mas- 
 ter, over miles of ice and snow, and at night, weary, footsore, 
 and half famished, laid himself down to a sleep broken by fitful 
 dreams of the home he had left behind. 
 
 He was prevented from making any attempt to escape, not 
 by the watchfulness of the savages, but by their dire threat, 
 which he knew was certain of execution, that if any man fled in 
 the night the remainder of the captives would be massacred the 
 next day. 
 
 His one pleasant memory of the journey was of a kindly 
 French woman, who invited them in and gave them a dinner. 
 But great was the indignation of their Indian masters when ^he 
 
126 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 seated her white guests at table with herself and bade the red 
 men eat their dinner sitting on mats before the fire. 
 
 After three years of captivity in Canada, Joseph Eastman 
 was discovered and ransomed, mainly through the efforts of the 
 clever young soldier who had escaped through the window. But 
 the hardships and privations of that time had so dulled the fire 
 and vigor of his youth that he no longer sought to enter the 
 ministry, and returned to the farm of his grandfather, the Hon. 
 Peter Tilton. 
 
 His son William was early in life appointed clerk of the 
 church in South Hadley, and afterwards was for many years a 
 deacon in Granby. Another sou, Benjamin, generally known as 
 Squire Eastman, lived at the Five Corners, in the house now 
 owned by Henry Moody. 
 
 Although South Hadley suffered less at the hands of the In- 
 dians than did many of the neighboring towns, yet there was 
 always this element of uncertainty in regard to the movements 
 of the red men. No one could foretell what would be their next 
 point of attack. 
 
 The treatment of the first white captive, the great-grand- 
 father of the town's third minister, taken through South Had- 
 ley on his way to Canada, is thus described: 
 
 "Coming to South Hadley Falls, the party crossed the Con- 
 necticut River by fording and swimming and spent the ensuing 
 night at the base of Mt. Holyoke. The captive was secured 
 during the night by being placed upon his back with each arm 
 and ankle strongly fastened to a sapling and with sticks so 
 crossing his body as to be lain upon by an Indian on each side. 
 He passed most of his nights bound in this manner, during his 
 long march to Canada. His sufferings were excessive and al- 
 most without intermission, which in most cases would have 
 brought the victim to the grave." 
 
 It was nearly seven years before he again stood at the foot 
 of Mt. Holyoke, and this time as a free man. 
 
 The spirit of the red men toward the white was well illus- 
 trated by the answer of an old Indian woman who, in time of 
 peace, had joined one of our local churches. A feUow member. 
 
THE INDIANS 127 
 
 having made some unkind remarks in regard to her, the min- 
 ister gave him his choice between apologizing to Old Zuba or 
 being suspended from communion. Rather sullenly he told the 
 Indian woman that he was sorry and hoped she would forgive 
 and forget. "Yes," she answered briskly, "I'll forgive and 
 forget, but / shall remember it as long as I live." 
 
 One of the strangest retribiitions of history dated back to 
 the flight of the Indians from this and surrounding towns, 
 which occurred on a certain Friday in August, 1676, after the 
 downfall of Phillip. 
 
 Two hundred Indians, men, women and children, had gath- 
 ered at South Hadley Falls, where during the afternoon they 
 constructed rafts upon which they poled themselves across the 
 Connecticut Eiver, camping for the night upon the farther shore. 
 Here they kindled many fires, partly for the purpose of cooking 
 their suppers and partly, doubtless, as a protection against wild 
 beasts. As there was at that time no human habitation be- 
 tween them and Mt. Holyoke, they apparently had no fear of dis- 
 covery. But the vigilant eyes of Springfield's sentinels detected 
 the columns of smoke, and the next day, finding that the trail of 
 the Indians came from the Northeast, they so reported upon 
 their return. Meanwhile the red men had proceeded westward 
 and had passed Westfield, from whence a messenger was quickly 
 despatched to Major Pjmchon, at Springfield, telling him the 
 Indians had skirted the town. While they considered the mat- 
 ter an unexpected ally arrived. 
 
 During the previous year every house in Brookfield had 
 been burned by the Indians, and the inhabitants had been obliged 
 to abandon the settlement, and in their once well-tilled fields 
 the former were now raising a crop of corn. 
 
 To Major Talcott it seemed a pity that our land should af- 
 ford sustenance for the savage foe, and taking with him both 
 white men and Mohegans he went to Quabaug, as it was called, 
 and cut down all the corn. Returning by way of Springfield 
 he arrived on this very Saturday. Resting his men for a single 
 night, he started in pursuit of the enemy. Not expecting such 
 an army, the Westfield housekeepers had failed to fill their big 
 
128 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 ovens, and food was not to be had in large quantities. But Tal- 
 cott and his men hurried forward on what was destined to be 
 thenceforth known as "The Hungry March." 
 
 Sunday and Monday passed, but the Indians were not over- 
 taken. Food was so scarce that the Major sent back all of his 
 horses and the greater part of his men. He retained the pro- 
 visions, of which little remained, and pressed on. Tuesday he 
 came up with the Indians at the Housatonic River. Here he 
 gave battle, killing forty-five and taking fifteen prisoners, with 
 but the loss of one man, a Mohegan Indian. 
 
 In this battle the cruel and treacherous Sachem of Brook- 
 field was slain; but the rest of the Indians, who escaped, crossed 
 the state line between New York and Massachusetts and settled 
 upon the farther side of the border. 
 
 The Governor of Connecticut was so much pleased with 
 Major Talcott's exploit that he appointed a day of thanksgiv- 
 ing, which was kept all over the State. 
 
 These Indians remained rmdisturbed for nearly eighty 
 years; the older members of the tribe handing down to their 
 descendants the story of this terrible march from South Had- 
 ley to the Housatonic. The memory of this injury still un- 
 avenged, although slumbering, was not allowed to die. 
 
 Now, however, it was a time of peace and people had grown 
 careless. Emboldened by the thought of their French allies, 
 these Indian refugees believed that the time had come in which 
 to avenge their ancestors. Sallying forth, burning, pillage and 
 massacre, marked every step of their path ; and thus did Hamp- 
 shire County first learn that she must prepare for immediate 
 war. 
 
 Within less than a decade Granby and South Hadley had 
 sent forth their brave sons to do battle in the French and In- 
 dian wars that were devastating the land. Some of them had 
 fallen by the wayside and some of them had languished in cap- 
 tivity. Yet such was the loyalty of our town that eighty names 
 of soldiers were entered upon its service list. Nor were the 
 other towns less patriotic. There were sharp crises in this 
 war when mounted messengers rode in hot haste for reinforce- 
 
THE INDIANS 129 
 
 ments. One of our adjoining towns sent in answer to this call 
 every man between the ages of sixteen and sixty except the 
 minister. 
 
 It seemed to us a dreadful thing when, during the Civil 
 War, we learned that one in every ten among our able-bodied 
 men had enlisted. Yet in the French and Indian War, in 1757, 
 one-third of all the men in Massachusetts were in the field, and 
 South Hadley had sent a still larger proportion of her sons. 
 
 Many strange things happened in Hampshire County dur- 
 ing this war. The movements of the Indians were so silent and 
 stealthy that the unsuspecting inhabitants often fell into ambush 
 through mere carelessness. This was illustrated in the case of a 
 little girl named Molly Smead, who lived a few miles to the 
 north of us. She had been warned against going near the edge 
 of the wood, but in the excitement of a game of tag ran to the 
 very border of the forest. An Indian lurking near caught her 
 up and, placing his hand over her mouth in order to stifle her 
 cries for help, carried her back to the camp. From there she 
 was sent to a village in Canada, whose chief showed her much 
 compassion, shielding her as far as possible from cruel treat- 
 ment. 
 
 The inhabitants of the village demanded that, as was the 
 custom with other white captives, she should "run the gaunt- 
 let." The chief, believing that on account of her youth this would 
 mean certain death, refused for a time to allow it, but the tumult 
 increased to such a degree that he was obliged to yield, and ap- 
 pointed a day for this ordeal. 
 
 The decision was made known to Molly by an old Indian 
 who could speak broken English. He had noticed that she was 
 an attractive child and had a musical voice, and so added in a 
 whisper: "Missey Molly, you sing and dance all the way and 
 they not whip you so much." 
 
 At the appointed time all the men, women and children in 
 the neighborhood were arranged facing one another, in two long 
 lines, between which she must pass. They stood with right hand 
 uplifted, each holding a pliant rod with which to strike her as 
 
130 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 she ran. Molly, following the instruction of her friendly adviser 
 and singing in her sweetest voice, went dancing gaily down the 
 line, while the Indians stood listening in motionless surprise. 
 One old drunken woman gave her a stinging blow which made 
 the flesh quiver beneath the one thin garment she was permit- 
 ted to wear, but without hesitating for an instant she prolonged 
 her song, until she had reached the end. Then arose a Babel 
 of voices clamoring fiercely for her to run the gauntlet again, 
 but this the chief refused. 
 
 Meantime the Connecticut troops had taken prisoner a 
 young Indian girl, whom the Governor of that State offered in 
 exchange for Molly Smead. To this the red men would not at 
 first consent, but after a sufficiently large amount of redemption 
 money had been added the transfer was effected, and Molly 
 returned to her home in safety. 
 
 There were some humorous as well as tragical incidents in 
 this war. In this same locality was a fort so large that in case 
 of Indian alarm all the inhabitants of the village could find 
 shelter for the night. Upon one such occasion the sentinel who 
 went on duty at midnight was a young man of but little experi- 
 ence in Indian warfare. 
 
 Soon after twelve o'clock the moon arose, but obscured by 
 clouds through which came a dull, uncertain light. Presently the 
 young guard observed a figure beneath the spreading branches 
 of a large oak tree which stood outside the fort. Thinking it 
 some belated neighbor, he demanded, "Who goes there?" The 
 figure moved slightly, but there was no reply. Raising his voice, 
 he repeated his challenge a second time, with the same result 
 as before. Aiming his gun carefully, he shouted, "Who goes 
 there? Answer, or I fire." Again receiving no reply, he dis- 
 charged his piece, which aroused the whole garrison, who at once 
 commenced a furious fusillade against the dark object beneath 
 the tree. Finding that they had produced no effect they rested 
 on their arms, but watched until the first beams of morning light 
 disclosed the innocent target of their marksmanship. A woman 
 of the garrison had washed her dress and hung it from one of 
 
THE INDIANS 131 
 
 the lower branches of the oak to dry, where it had fluttered all 
 night in the wind. It was, of course, ruined, being completely 
 riddled with bullet holes, and the verdict of the sleepy and dis- 
 comfited garrison was that it served her right for depriving 
 them of a night's rest. 
 
 It will be remembered that from the beginning of King 
 William's War, in 1688, to the Treaty of Paris, in 1763, more 
 than half of the time was filled with scenes of war and blood- 
 shed. The struggle between England and France for supremacy 
 in America entailed incessant watchfulness on the part of the 
 colonists. The Indians, inspired by their French allies, made 
 fresh attacks upon some of the villages about us, compelling the 
 inhabitants to forsake their homes and take refuge in the larger 
 towns. 
 
 When the call came for more soldiers. South Hadley re- 
 sponded by giving the very flower of her young men to the 
 army. Three of our pioneers sent their five sons to assist in the 
 reduction of Canada, William, John, Peter and Josiali Mon- 
 tague and Phineas Smith. 
 
 Peter Montague was at the siege of Louisbiirg in 1745. No 
 sooner had our troops landed than the French spiked the can- 
 non in their outer fortifications and retired behind the inner de- 
 fenses, which were supposed to be impregnable. 
 
 Now Peter's major was a gimsmith and declared the can- 
 non could be repaired. Permission having been given, he 
 selected twenty assistants, drilled out and reversed the cannon, 
 and the siege was then commenced. 
 
 But it was necessary to drag their own artillery across a 
 morass impassable for horses or oxen, so Peter and his com- 
 rades placed straps about their shoulders, and for fourteen 
 nights dragged the cannon through mud and water reaching to 
 the ankles, and in some cases even to the knees. They had no 
 bed but Mother Earth and no tent to shelter them, only rude huts 
 made of turf and brushwood. This hardship and exposure was 
 too great for one so young as Peter, and the ultimate song of 
 triumph fell upon ears that were deaf to its notes. 
 
132 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Jobn Woodbridge, the eldest son of our minister, instead 
 of studying theology as was expected, spent eight years in the 
 defense of his country during the French and Indian wars. 
 Entering the army as a private, he rose to the rank of lieuten- 
 ant simply upon his own merit. 
 
 He was present at the siege of Quebec and took part in that 
 memorable battle on the Plains of Abraham, in which both Wolfe 
 and Montcalm were slain. 
 
 Doubtless he always remembered one incident of his peril- 
 ous passage up the St. Lawrence on the evening preceding this 
 assault. When the sentinel at the fort challenged them in 
 French with the customary "Who goes there?" one of the oars- 
 men replied in the same language, "The provision boat. Don't 
 speak so loud or the English will hear you," and, holding their 
 breath with suppressed laughter, they glided past. 
 
 The death of Montcalm might not have seemed an unde- 
 served retribution to Job Alvord, another of our young soldiers. 
 He had been one of a beleaguered garrison surrounded by the 
 army of Montcalm, which outnumbered them three to one. Mes- 
 sengers had been despatched to Fort Edward, fifteen miles away, 
 for aid, a request which the commanding general refused, send- 
 ing them in return a letter advising immediate surrender. This 
 communication was intercepted by Montcalm, who forwarded it 
 to the besieged garrison, offering terms of capitulation which 
 for those times do not seem to have been severe. 
 
 On condition that they would not fight for a year and a 
 half, they were promised safe escort to Fort Edward and per- 
 mission to carry with them their arms and baggage. When they 
 reached the woods a mile from the fort the Indians, contrary to 
 all stipulations, fell upon them, killing some, wounding others 
 and plundering all who came within their reach. 
 
 Job Alvord escaped with his life and probably considered 
 that this act of treachery released him from his parole, for we 
 hear of him shortly after as holding the position of lieutenant 
 in the army. 
 
 The first marriage registered in our town was that of this 
 
THE INDIANS 133 
 
 same Job Alvord and Eebekah Smith, both of South Hadley. 
 There had, however, been other marriages previous to this which 
 failed of registration, for Josiah, sou of Peter Montague, had 
 wedded his cousin Abigail, and was soon after sent on an expe- 
 dition against the French at Crown Point, from which he did 
 not return until three years later. 
 
 In one respect their manifold experiences by sea and land 
 were fruitful of good to the men of our town. It was an ex- 
 cellent preiJaratory school for the War of the Revolution so 
 soon to follow. It taught them the use of arms, bayonets hav- 
 ing now been introduced for the first time. It made the coun- 
 try conscious of its own strength, and in other towns as well 
 as in this the leading soldiers in the French and Indian wars 
 became the officers of the Revolutionary Army. 
 
 It was not until many years after the War of Independ- 
 ence had ended that the Indians finally disappeared from our 
 to"\vn. Roving bands often visited the scattered farmhouses, 
 asking for a drink of cider, or perhaps a seat at the dinner 
 table. They were much given to pilfering, but still displayed 
 their national characteristic, and were grateful toward those 
 who afforded them food and shelter. Months afterwards these 
 persons who had befriended them were the recipients of numer- 
 ous gifts. 
 
 A daughter of Dr. G. G. Hitchcock, of South Hadley Falls, 
 thus describes an incident in the life of one of her ancestors, 
 who had purchased a "shay" in the early days: 
 
 "In the first stage of his pride of ownership an Indian chief 
 in the neighborhood came to borrow it in order to visit a chief in 
 New York State. 'I will return it at the end of three months,' 
 he said. The owner looked at his resplendent purchase in de- 
 spair, but the Indians were too powerful to be refused. So he 
 gave them the shay, never expecting to see it again, picturing 
 to himself the forest paths, the rude wood roads it must trav- 
 erse. He was mistaken. At the end of the three months, punc- 
 tual to the day, came the old chief and his followers, bearing 
 with them the chaise. Not a scratch marred its shining sur- 
 
134 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 face ; not a mark of wear was on it. All the long way the tribe 
 had made a path before it. Think of the figure that proud chief 
 had been able to cut before his rival brother ! It was at a time 
 when the Indians committed constant depredations upon the 
 whites, but from that day on my ancestor was exempt. His 
 grain, vegetables and fruit grew and ripened unmolested. Under 
 cover of the darkness game and furs were silently left at his 
 door by his Indian friends; his rights were protected, and he 
 was beloved by them. Up to his last days he used to say that 
 he had been recompensed more than the cost of many shays." 
 
 Our last Indian visitor on record appears to have been the 
 one who, about 1835, called at the house of Mr. Simeon Judd, 
 and his carved walking stick, left by mistake, is still in pos- 
 session of the family. 
 
 Several of our oldest families can claim a remote ancestry 
 of Indian descent. In Colonial times a young man from North- 
 ampton built himself a house on the eastern side of the Connecti- 
 cut, and — a rare occurrence in those days — fell in love with 
 one of the dusky maidens who inhabited our South Hadley for- 
 ests. The girl reciprocated his affection, but when the lover 
 asked permission to marry her the tribe held a cotmcil, and for- 
 bade the ceremony. After waiting for some time, finding the 
 verdict remained unchanged, the maiden suggested that she 
 leave the camp by stealth, and conceal herself from her rela- 
 tives until such time as they would give their consent to the 
 union. She was secreted in Northampton, while the Indians 
 searched the woods and streams for a trace of the missing girl. 
 Meanwhile a close watch was kept upon the movements of the 
 young man, who, anticipating this scrutiny, did not leave his 
 farm, except to attend divine service. When interrogated, he 
 would give them no information, and at last they promised if the 
 girl would come back the ceremony might take place. She ac- 
 cordingly returned, and, as the fairy books say, "they lived hap- 
 pily ever after." 
 
 The red men have vanished from hill and glen; but even 
 now if you stand in autumn beneath the trees that fringe the 
 
THE IXDIAXS 135 
 
 banks of our loved Connecticut, you may still catch an echo of 
 the old refrain: 
 
 "Dark as the frost-nipped leaves that strew the ground. 
 The Indian hunter here his shelter found; 
 Here cut his bow, and shaped his arrows true ; 
 Here built his wigwam, and his bark canoe; 
 Speared the quick salmon leaping up the fall ; 
 And slew the deer, without the rifle ball." 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 
 
 HAEDLY had the last echoes of the French and Indian 
 wars died away, when a new danger threatened our coun- 
 try. England had assisted us in our struggle with 
 France, by sending us both men and money, and now determined 
 to reimburse herself for this expense by taxing her colonies. 
 
 To this end Parliament, in March, 1765, passed a bill known 
 as the Stamp Act, which was not to become operative until 
 November first of that year. This enactment decreed that no 
 deed, bond, note, or mortgage should thenceforth be valid unless 
 it was written upon stamped paper, and some of these stamps 
 ran as high as thirty dollars each. Also no marriage should 
 be legal unless a certificate to that effect were made out on 
 stamped paper. 
 
 This edict awakened the most violent opposition in our 
 town, and one of our ministers publicly declared that it was 
 unjust, oppressive, and subversive of every principle of free- 
 dom. 
 
 The conclusions of South Hadley were at this era a matter 
 of some importance since there were but four larger towns in 
 Western Massachusetts. Springfield, stood first, then West- 
 field ; Northampton ranked next, followed by Sheffield and South 
 Hadley. Worcester and Palmer had not then come into being, 
 or were too small to be noticed. This census taking was a stum- 
 bling block to many of the elders in the community, they re- 
 minded their friends how King David had "numbered the peo- 
 ple," and how severe was his punishment, and they predicted 
 that famine and pestilence would be the result of the present 
 action. 
 
 It is interesting to note in this connection that in one of the 
 annual Thanksgiving sermons of that day we find our old min- 
 ister mentioning as one of the great causes for gratitude the 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REVOLUTIOX 137 
 
 good health that had pervaded the comnmnity throughout the 
 past year. 
 
 November first, the day on which the Stamp Act was to 
 take effect, was everywhere observed as a fast, all places of 
 business being closed. In cities, the morning was ushered in by 
 the tolling of church bells, and this was continued through the 
 day. EfiSgies were placed in rude cofiBns bearing the inscrip- 
 tion, "Liberty, aged 145 years." These were escorted to 
 the place of interment by crowds of citizens, who stood rever- 
 ently about the grave listening to the funeral oration, while 
 the minute gims, at intervals, boomed their mournful echo. 
 
 South Hadley had no church bell to toll, but we may be sure 
 that Moody Corner sent her drummer to lead with mufflled beats 
 the long procession of mourners that paraded the streets. 
 And John Lane, Junior, skilled in the use of the conch shell, 
 may have evoked sad notes to pimctuate the slow march. We 
 may feel certain from the aftermath that all who possessed, or 
 could borrow, black clothes fell into line, and though Rev. Mr. 
 Woodbridge, being over sixty years of age, may not have been 
 at their head, it is safe to presume that Rev. Simon Backus, of 
 our eastern parish, was there. 
 
 The privations of our early settlers had taught their chil- 
 dren as well as themselves habits of self-denial, and now it was 
 not hard for them to follow the advice of their spiritual direc- 
 tor and refrain from the purchase of English luxuries, which 
 Major John "Woodbridge and Deacon William Eastman were 
 wont to deal out to them. 
 
 The resentment against the Stamp Act was so great 
 throughout the country that in the following spring it was re- 
 pealed. The news of this event reached here in July, and the 
 town immediately appointed a day of thanksgiving. The ser- 
 mon preached upon this occasion by one of our ministers has 
 been preserved, and some brief extracts will perhaps illustrate 
 the dawning spirit of the Revolution which had already begun to 
 pervade the town. 
 
 His text was taken from the twelfth Psalm: "The snare 
 
138 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 is broken and we are escaped." After reading the Proclama- 
 tion, he begins: 
 
 "We are informed in general in the Proclamation that it is 
 God's having graciously inclined the King, and both Houses of 
 Parliament, so far to harken to the Petitions of his loyal and 
 dutiful subjects as to consent to a total repeal of the Stamp 
 Act. To understand the true ground of obligation to Gratitude 
 and Thankfulness hence arising, it is necessary to take into con- 
 sideration the Nature and Genius of the Act, and the fatal con- 
 sequences which might reasonably have been expected, had it 
 been enforced. * * * it was illegal and inconsistent with 
 the Magna Charta. There are two things in which the Act ap- 
 pears unconstitutional; the one is the exacting money of the 
 subject without his consent; another is depriving the subject in 
 certain cases of the Liberty of Trial by Jury. This principle is 
 no better than that of an absolute unlimited Eight and Author- 
 ity in the Euler or Magistrate to take away the Property of 
 the subject whenever he pleases, and to whatever degree he 
 thinks proper. Only admit that the King or Supreme Ruling 
 Authority has a right to tax the subjects without their consent, 
 it will follow by undesirable consequence that he has a right to 
 take away their whole estate, rendering them nothing but Slaves 
 and Vassals, and reducing them to Beggary and Starvation. 
 
 "The execution of such an Act or Law must have been a 
 very great calamity, and consequently its being surrendered 
 must be a Very Great Mercy and Deliverance. 
 
 "It has been the declared opinion of some of considerable 
 knowledge in Public Affairs that all the money in the country 
 would not be sufficient to answer the annual amount of the 
 Duties thence arising. 
 
 "One of the most obvious as well as shocking Consequences 
 which would doubtless have ensued from a continuance of the 
 Stamp Act is that of Civil Wars, Slaughter and Bloodshed in 
 almost all Parts of the Land. And what Numbers would have 
 fallen by the Sword in the High Places of the Field before the 
 country would have been brought to submit, we cannot deter- 
 mine. 
 
 I 
 
SOUTH HADLEY m THE EEVOLUTION^ 139 
 
 "Considering the Vast Disproportion and strength of this 
 country as compared with Great Britain, it would be stupidity 
 and madness to imagine that we would finally stand out and de- 
 fend ourselves against them, by which means we should prob- 
 ably have been stripped of all our Privileges, Properties, and 
 Liberties, as having forfeited them by Rebellion and Treason. 
 * * * Therefore, with Regard to the late Merciful Dis- 
 pensation of Divine Providence, we should consider that it is 
 God indeed who hath done this great thing for us, whereof we 
 are glad, and not ascribe it to our Wisdom, Policy, Spirited Op- 
 position, Resolute Resistance, Humble Petitions, etc. But it 
 behooves us to cry out with the Psalmist, 'Not unto us, not unto 
 us, oh. Lord, but unto Thy Name be the Glory.' " 
 
 During the following year political matters seemed quieter 
 and life moved on in its accustomed channels. Our people gath- 
 ered in their new meeting houses, with their high pulpits and 
 great, square pews, but they carried with them their loyalist 
 HjTnn Books, and as the precentor lined out the words, "And 
 own the King the Lord hath made," the whole congregation sang 
 them with undiminished fervor. 
 
 The English Crown had long ago claimed that it held a 
 copyright upon the Holy Scriptures, and to the title page of 
 the Bible had been added this clause, "Printed by the Authority 
 of His Majesty, King George III." But before the Revolution 
 had ended, so bitter was the hatred against their sovereign, that 
 one of our deacons actually tore out these obnoxious words from 
 the title page of his Bible, and others doubtless followed his ex- 
 ample. 
 
 In 1767 fresh complications arose from England's attempt 
 to levy a tax upon all the tea, glass and paint brought to Amer- 
 ica. In this juncture, covenants for the Non-importation of 
 British Goods were promptly circulated and signed, both here 
 and elsewhere, but these promises were not always kept. Build- 
 ing windowless houses was not to be thought of, and glass was 
 one of the prohibited articles ; for Parliament had, with cunning 
 foresight, taxed the very things that were considered in- 
 dispensable. People soon began to retaliate by eating less meat, 
 
140 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 lamb and mutton, thus increasing the number of sheep and 
 avoiding the necessity of importing wool from England. Tra- 
 dition tells us that some of the dwellers south of Mt. Holyoke, 
 in their patriotic zeal, used the flesh of the woodchuck as a 
 substitute for mutton. 
 
 Public opinion was plainly indexed by the action of Harvard 
 College. Though many of the students were the sons of rich 
 men, and possessed clothing of the finest broadcloth, and the 
 long, silk stockings so universally worn, yet the senior class of 
 1768, in order to show that they could dispense with English 
 luxuries, voted to graduate in suits of homespun, and carried 
 their resolution into effect. 
 
 As a result of the popular indignation, the tax bill was 
 later on rescinded; the duty upon tea, however, being still re- 
 tained. 
 
 In 1770, another piece of British jurisprudence fanned into 
 flame the smoldering embers of Colonial wrath. South Hadley 
 had always been famous for the multiplicity of its town meet- 
 ings. If there was a dispute in regard to the location of a new 
 church, or a quarrel over the seating of the meeting house, the 
 records show that they were willing to hold two a week if neces- 
 sary, although in cold weather they were sometimes glad to ad- 
 journ to the schoolhouse or tavern for their discussions. Now 
 they found themselves forbidden to call any town meetings 
 unless they had first obtained the consent of the Royal Governor ; 
 even then they could hold but one meeting a year, and that sim- 
 ply for the election of officers. But if the Governor chose he 
 could order another one to be held. 
 
 Then, too, our town had for fifteen years been in the habit 
 of drawing its jurors by the same method in use at the present 
 day. Now they were informed that by direction of the Crown, a 
 sheriff appointed by the Governor would select his own jury. 
 
 During the following year South Hadley was ordered to 
 hold a second town meeting, because at the first one, "the offi- 
 cers did not take the oath respecting other government money." 
 Also Dr. Woodbridge and Eleazer Goodman had not been sworn 
 into their offices. 
 
>L. i;i-i;i;i,i:s \vi."ii>i:i;iL"_;i-; 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REYOLrTIOX 111 
 
 Doctor Benjamin Buggies Woodbridge appears to have 
 been at this time the acknowledged bead of the Liberty Party. 
 He was a man in the very prime of life, well educated, and a 
 clever and original thinker. His keen, penetrating eyes seemed 
 to read one's very thoughts, but his smile was gentle and win- 
 ning. He was a firm disciplinarian and was made a colonel dur- 
 ing the first few months of the war, but was never arbitrary, 
 and kept both the respect and love of his soldiers. 
 
 In process of time a new covenant for the Non-consump- 
 tion of British Goods was prepared, and Colonel Woodbridge 
 began to hold Libert}' Meetings in the towns about us. In one 
 of these, an evening meeting at which he presided, he awakened 
 such enthusiasm that the next morning several of the leading 
 citizens hastily prepared a covenant, and carried it to their 
 minister for his signature. 
 
 After reading it he told the committee that he objected to 
 signing it because there was no recognition of God in it, the 
 name of the Deity not occurring even once. Fhished with ex- 
 citement, his parishioners said, threateningly, "We tell you 
 plainly, that if you do not sign this paper, you will be con- 
 sidered and treated as an enemy of your country" (the latter 
 phrase being the shibboleth of the Wings, and the dread of the 
 Tories). The parson was not a tall man, but at these words he 
 fairly towered. "This," he cried, "is not Liberty, but Tyranny, 
 and I doubt if King George himself would be more tyrannical. ' ' 
 The matter was finally compromised by his writing on the paper 
 his reason for not signing, and adding that he was a friend to 
 the country and should aid it by every means in his power. And 
 in coming years nobly did he redeem his promise. 
 
 Ebenezer Stoddard, one of South Hadley's soldiers, had 
 resisted an attempt on the part of a deputy sheriff to arrest 
 him. The following extract from the warrant shows how the 
 minutest matters were referred to the King: "He did then 
 and there resist, oppose and hinder the said sheriff of the due 
 execution of his office, all which is contrary to Law, and Peace 
 of the said Lord the King, his Crown and Dignity" * * * 
 "Being put to plead, he says that he will not contend with the 
 
143 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 King, and he submits himself to the King's grace. The Court 
 having considered of the Offense, do order that the said Eben- 
 ezer pay a Fine of twenty shillings for his Majesty's use; and 
 cost of Prosecution, taxed at one pound, twelve shillings and 
 two pence." 
 
 Everybody had been taught, from their childhood up, to 
 honor the King. If his Majesty died, funeral sermons were 
 preached as soon as the news reached this part of the country. 
 "God save the King!" was heard in both home and sanctuary, 
 and it was hard for the older people to unlearn in a moment the 
 teaching of years. 
 
 The whole trend of public opinion was now changed. In 
 Harvard College the students had always been ranked, not ac- 
 cording to their scholastic attainments, but in the order of their 
 social standing. The sons of rich and influential men could 
 have the best rooms, help themselves first at table, and sit in 
 the highest places at chaioel. Now they were to be catalogued 
 alphabetically, and the rod of correction would pay no regard 
 to caste, whatever might be said of the prayer which was ex- 
 pected to precede or follow the whipping, when profanity on 
 the part of a student was to be punished. It was now apparent 
 that the leveling of social distinctions had begun in earnest. 
 
 England had found her experiment of taxing the Colonies 
 a costly one. For every dollar of revenue that she had received, 
 she had expended more than a hundred times that amount. She 
 had quartered her soldiers upon the citizens of Boston, with a 
 demand that they should be supplied with "Food and lodging, 
 cheese and rum." "Nothing to eat, drink or wear from Great 
 Britain" had been our country's response; even the custom of 
 wearing mourning for the dead had been in a measure aban- 
 doned, since much of the black cloth in use had been imported. 
 
 South Hadley had appointed a Committee of Inspection, 
 whose duty it was to visit from house to house in order to for- 
 bid all use of East India tea. It had been customary here, if a 
 neighbor called in the afternoon, to greet her with the words, 
 "How do you do? Won't you take off your things, and stay to 
 tea?" The word "supper" was unknown in polite vocabularies. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE EEVOLUTION 113 
 
 Substitutes for the "cup that cheers but not inebriates" must 
 be found. Every garden had its patch of currant and goose- 
 berry bushes, the leaves of which were dried and steeped, mak- 
 ing a drink called "HjT)erion." There was a plant named Lab- 
 rador Tea, whose blossom resembled that of hard hack, and 
 this also was in popular use as a beverage. Infusions of spear- 
 mint, pennyroyal, or sage often appeared at the evening meal, 
 though the latter was thought to savor too much of illness. 
 
 On December 16, 1773, matters were brought to a crisis by 
 the action of a party of young men, of whom Dr. A. J. Miller, for 
 many years a resident physician of South Hadlej', was one. At 
 this time three ships laden with tea had entered Boston Harbor. 
 Dr. Miller was, at this time, probably a student in Harvard 
 College, and on that memorable night he and a score or more of 
 his associates banded themselves together in order to throw 
 this cargo overboard. Before starting, everyone pledged him- 
 self to the undertaking, agreeing that if any one of their num- 
 ber flinched he should be thrown overboard with the tea. In 
 silence they proceeded to their work. Some of them tried to 
 secrete a small portion of the Old Hyson to carry home with 
 them, but as soon as this was discovered, jackknives were out 
 and the pockets slitted open. Dr. Miller contrived to bring away 
 a handful, which was preserved as a souvenir for over a hun- 
 dred and thirty years, and then lost through the blunder of a 
 careless servant. 
 
 After this episode, things went from bad to worse. The 
 courts were prevented from sitting, and mobbing and rioting 
 ensued. An old diary, written May 1, 1777, states that no courts 
 had been held in this vicinity since September, 1773, and adds, 
 "Lived without the exercise of law for four years, and made it 
 do pretty well." 
 
 Our town had certainly cause to be proud of its compara- 
 tive freedom from disorders, while the towns about us were rent 
 by internal strife. There was one exception to this rule. Joseph 
 Ashley, the hated spy and informer, avowed himself a Tory, 
 upon which, as we learn, the people "made it so hot for him 
 that he was obliged to flee to New York." There were others 
 
144 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 here who espoused the cause of Great Britain, but most of these 
 chose a home in Halifax, where the King had promised them 
 protection, and offered to each the gift of a farm. Very possibly 
 some of them were mobbed while here, and foi'bidden to partake 
 of the sacrament at communion, at all events, their social ostra- 
 cism drove them to Nova Scotia. 
 
 The town was certainly making a great effort to preserve 
 good order. A Committee of Safety had been previously ap- 
 pointed, and about six weeks before the Battle of Lexington a 
 second one was chosen, composed of "sober and discreet per- 
 sons, who shall suppress mobs, quiet disturbances between 
 neighbor and neighbor, and shall give assistance to the towns 
 about us if they shall be asked." It was also voted that if any 
 person should be found assisting any "mob])ish, tumultuous or 
 riotous company, without first informing this committee and 
 obtaining their approbation (which is not to be granted except 
 in cases of extreme necessity), they should forfeit the assist- 
 ance and protection of their neighbors, should it afterwards be 
 needed, in their own defense, and they should never be consid- 
 ered eligible to any office of trust in this town." 
 
 It would appear from the accounts given by the old people 
 of South Hadley, that the visits of the mob were for the purpose 
 of insulting the Tories, rather than that of injuring their prop- 
 erty, though in the excitement of the raid many things were 
 done which upon sober second thought were greatly to be re- 
 gretted. To the mobbings were brought horns, drums, pewter 
 pans, anji:hing that would make a jangle of discordant notes. 
 But the chief musical instrument was termed a horse-fiddle. It 
 was prepared by stringing across the top of an empty wooden 
 box hempen cords covered with rosin. A bow was prepared in a 
 similar manner, and the harsh grating of one upon the other, as 
 it was played by its two jjerformers, caused so horril^le a soimd 
 that it defies description. After the din had been kept up for 
 some hours, usually till about midnight, the rioters dispersed. 
 There were occasions upon which the owner of the house came 
 out with a club and drove them off, but these were rare. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 145 
 
 These bitter animosities had brought dissensions into neigh- 
 borhoods, and disunion into families. 
 
 Poor old Jonathan Seldenl Next to our six pioneers, be 
 had been one of the very earliest settlers south of Mt. Holyoke. 
 He had been taught to reverence "Our Lord the King," as sec- 
 ond only to Deity, and disobedience to his commands was in the 
 eyes of Selden a sin. He was so pronounced in his opinions 
 that six months after our first volunteers started for the army 
 he was lodged in Northampton jail, where he died nearly eight 
 months later. He must have inculcated in his children a love of 
 country, for his son and namesake enlisted and fought as a 
 soldier in the Eevolutionary War. 
 
 A very common method of punishing Tories was by con- 
 fining them to their own farms, which they were never per- 
 mitted to leave except in order to attend church service and 
 funerals. Upon these occasions they were forbidden to have 
 any conversation with others, either before or after the exer- 
 cises. This proceeding sometimes bore bitter fruit in after 
 years. Several of our leading citizens still tell the story of their 
 ancestor, Mr. Consider T. , whose unjust treatment dark- 
 ened his whole life. He was a devoted member of the Church 
 of England, and came to this country simply for commercial 
 reasons. He settled in Connecticut, purchasing a large farm. 
 Believing as he did that the King was the head of the Estab- 
 lished Church, rebellion seemed to him like the most wicked 
 of conflicts. He having expressed this opinion, the selectmen 
 ordered him not to pass the boundaries of his own land under 
 pain of imprisonment in the county jail. Fifteen months later 
 they released him from restraint, but he refused their offer in 
 these words: "I am, and always was, a sincere friend of Amer- 
 ica, but if I had the same opinion of the United States that I 
 have of this town, I should think it my duty to do my utmost to 
 have them subdued. * * * x would further tell you I re- 
 tain the same principles that I had four years ago, don't mean 
 to hurt any man, and am content to remain in my own business, 
 and happy in not seeing the faces of my implacable enemies. 
 Therefore, please so use your endeavors that I may remain 
 
146 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 happy as I now am, and you will oblige your old friend — Con- 
 sider T." He lived nearly forty years after this, but never went 
 beyond the boundaries of his own farm. 
 
 During the night which preceded Wednesday, April 19, 
 1775, the tocsin of war was sounded upon all the church bells 
 from Boston to Lexington, and the deep-toned cannon confirmed 
 the alarm. No sooner did Charleston catch the warning gleam 
 of the lantern in the belfry of the Old North Church, than 
 mounted horsemen were sent in hot haste to warn the country. 
 The messenger despatched to Western Massachusetts directed 
 the people of Belchertown to send a courier to Granby and 
 South Hadley, while he continued his journey to Amherst, Had- 
 ley and Northampton. 
 
 We can picture to ourselves the best rider and most ardent 
 patriot of Cold Spring traversing the rough track, called the 
 Pichawamache Eoad, shouting to the farmer in his field, and the 
 housewife standing in her kitchen door, "To arms! to arms!" 
 How it must have gladdened his heart when the athletic John 
 Lane responded, "I will go." 
 
 Down the steep side of Cold Hill, now changed and leveled 
 beyond recognition, he passed at its base the house of Deacon 
 David Nash. Here was another volunteer, and a little beyond, 
 John Marshall's heart warmed to the cry. 
 
 Arriving at the Center, the messenger went at once to the 
 Woodbridge parsonage. The news was quickly made known by 
 the beating of drums and the firing of guns, the former giving 
 that long, loud roll that told the minute men it was a call for 
 volunteers. South Hadley had not been caught napping. 
 
 The town had voted during the previous year that they were 
 willing to ' ' raise and pay men for the army. ' ' They had ordered 
 every man to keep weapons and ammimition in his house. Car- 
 tridge boxes had been purchased and were now held in stock. 
 The militia had been exercised on training days, but the minute 
 men had met for an extra half daj^ in every week, in order to 
 learn the art of war, each one of them being paid for his time. 
 Now, under the alert leadership of Colonel Ruggles Woodbridge, 
 provision enough to last three days was hastily prepared, the 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 147 
 
 guns put in order, and on the following day, Thursday, over a 
 hundred men from Belchertown, Granby and South Hadley 
 set forth on their march to Lexington. 
 
 Among the volunteers from this town was Peter Pender- 
 grass, a legacy left to us by the British army after the close of 
 the last French and Indian War. He had come to our town, 
 married a young woman named Abial, a church member, and 
 they, with their only son, James, lived in a tiny dwelling on the 
 site now occupied by the house of W. H. Jewett, on Iladlej' street. 
 Life had not gone well with him, and a kind deacon who had 
 moved from here to Granby sheltered him and his family for a 
 year. The events of April 19 awoke the old war fever, and in- 
 stead of turning back with the others, when a messenger met 
 them with the news that they were no longer needed, he pro- 
 ceeded to Cambridge with Captain Moses Montague and Colonel 
 Woodbridge, accompanied also by two or three of our minute 
 men. Reaching Cambridge, he found a fine, large house, whose 
 Tory owner had fled to the British camp. Here he established 
 himself in luxurious quarters, little dreaming that twenty-five 
 years later he would be set up at vendue as a town pauper and 
 struck off to one of our good deacons at fifty cents per week. 
 
 Before the battle of Bunker Hill, Colonel Woodbridge and 
 Peter had joined the camp in Roxbury. A part of their regi- 
 ment fought in that memorable conflict, but though they could 
 see the smoke and hear the cannon they were, themselves, too 
 far away to take part in the engagement. 
 
 During the following November, word was sent here that 
 the poor of Boston were suffering for lack of food and clothing. 
 A town meeting was called and a committee appointed to col- 
 lect donations. A requisition for blankets to be used in the 
 army also met with quick response. The Whigs gave willingly, 
 and often more than they could well afford to spare. If a Tory 
 refused to produce his hidden store of new blankets this com- 
 mittee straightway helped themselves to those already in use. 
 
 In our northern army the long marches had so worn out both 
 shoes and stockings that the footsteps of our men left their 
 crimson imprint upon the Canadian ice and snow, and mes- 
 
148 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 sengers were despatched to Massachusetts in order to make 
 known their imperative need. Letters could not be used to 
 diffuse information, since at this time each state had on an 
 average but six postoffices in its whole area. The only place 
 where the scattered population could easily be reached was at 
 the meeting house, and the Sunday service was often interrupted 
 by the coming of a horseman, charged with the duty of trans- 
 mitting intelligence. 
 
 It was the custom of Eev. Mr. Woodbridge on every Sabbath 
 morning to give a summary of the latest news from the army. 
 Springfield was our recruiting station, and whoever went there 
 on business was expected to call at the minister's house on his 
 return and repeat all that he had learned regarding the progress 
 of the war. 
 
 In front of the wooden desk, which at that time served as a 
 pulpit, sat Deacon Daniel Moody and Deacon David Nash, their 
 pew being on a raised platform, facing the congregation. It was 
 their duty, in case the minister had "exchanged," to introduce 
 the new preacher to the audience, and they had also been ap- 
 pointed to receive on every Lord's Day gifts for the soldiers. 
 
 When the clank of a horseman was heard without, Mr. Wood- 
 bridge paused in his sermon and at the entrance of the messen- 
 ger said, with a courtly bow, "Brother, if you have any message 
 for my people, say on." And when the pitiful story had been 
 told, we may well believe that for days to come spinning wheels 
 hummed, and knitting needles clicked in answer to this appeal. 
 
 In one of the towns reached by a courier during the morning 
 sermon, all the women, with the consent of the minister, re- 
 mained at home that afternoon in order to spin and knit for the 
 suffering men at St. Johns. "Mercy is better than sacrifice," 
 said the pastor, in explanation of his act. 
 
 Nor were the men less patriotic. After the close of the war 
 it was said that, excepting the ministers, there was hardly an 
 able-bodied man in either Granby or Soiath Hadley who had 
 not served in the army. This had been made possible by a ro- 
 tation in enlistment. No sooner had a soldier started for camp 
 than his neighbors assumed the responsibility of caring for his 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 149 
 
 farm. In case no son was old enough to milk and "fodder," it 
 was expected that the women of the household would attend to 
 those duties. But at planting time, the volunteer's land must 
 be ploughed for him before any other, and when his grass was 
 ready for the scythe, a mowing bee was appointed, for his hay- 
 ing must be done before the rest began theirs. Later on the 
 town voted that they would provide "For those women and 
 their families whose husbands were in the continental army." 
 
 In order that those who were dependent upon the kindness 
 of others should be as evenly distributed as possible throughout 
 the town, when a draft of seven men was called for. South Had- 
 ley was divided into seven districts, and one man was chosen by 
 lot from each district. 
 
 The first person south of the mountain who sacrificed his 
 life to the cause of liberty was Lieut. Eleazer Nash. He lived 
 in Moody Corner, a few rods east of the Granby line, and though 
 he was already in his fifty-sixth year, enlisted at the call of Lex- 
 ington and set off the next morning. He may have taken a 
 chill from sleeping on the damp ground, for he returned with a 
 hard cold ; inflammation of the lungs set in, and within a month 
 he had passed away. There must have been some bitter self- 
 reproach among those overzealous Whigs who had, six weeks 
 before, tried to bring disgrace upon his name. Some of the 
 towns about us had been building bonfires, and feeding the flames 
 with the military commissions issued by Governor Hutchison 
 and General Gage some years before. Captain William Eastman, 
 Lieutenant Eleazer Nash and Ensign Experience Smith do not 
 appear to have shared in the wild excitement that dominated this 
 section, and a town meeting was called on March 6, 1775, to con- 
 sider their cases. At this time Lieutenant Nash, being asked to 
 speak, replied, in answer to their questions, "I have no desire, 
 intention, or design to act from any authority by virtue of my 
 commission, and further I never will." "Ensign Smith de- 
 clared that he acquiesced in the above declaration made by Lieu- 
 tenant Nash." Captain William Eastman said that he "Would 
 never exercise anv authoritv of his commission imtil such time 
 
150 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 as the controversy subsisting between Great Britain and the 
 colonies was settled." 
 
 For some unknown reason these answers were not con- 
 sidered satisfactory, but the matter seemed to have been 
 dropped. Lieutenant Nash died, Ensign Smith left town, and 
 Deacon William Eastman, who forty years before was the first 
 clerk of our South Hadley church, was mobbed and called an 
 enemy of his country. But he moved serenely on in the even 
 tenor of his way, and a few years later Grranby, recognizing his 
 sound judgment, honesty of purpose and sincere patriotism, 
 sent him as her delegate to assist in formulating our state con- 
 stitution. 
 
 An entry in the records of Eev. Joel Hayes, our third minis- 
 ter, states that on June 8, 1786, he married Samuel White and 
 Eunice Eastman. There was a curious romance connected with 
 this item. A brother of Deacon William Eastman, called the 
 squire, lived at Granby Five Corners, in the house now occupied 
 by Henry Moody. Samuel White, then a youth of fifteen, called 
 at the house one day, when Squire Eastman said, jocosely, 
 * ' Samuel, if you will go to the war and return all right you may 
 marry any one of my daughters. " We quote the sequel. "Samuel 
 White was only fifteen years of age when he enlisted, and being 
 under the regulation height, was obliged to stand on tiptoe when 
 measured at the mustering in. The father of the young patriot 
 also enlisted with him. The first winter of the campaign had not 
 passed when the elder White froze both his feet, and was obliged 
 to return home, where his wounds failed to respond to treat- 
 ment, and he died. The son went through the service without 
 injury, and when the war cry of 1812 soimded he was among 
 the first to respond, raising a company of which he was made 
 captain. ' ' 
 
 Previous to the Declaration of Independence there had been 
 in the vicinity of Springfield what the old people called a "Nest 
 of Tories." Their secret headquarters were said to have been 
 in West Springfield. If any continental officer of rank came 
 home on a furlough his house was liable to be suddenly raided by 
 men who sought his capture. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION lol 
 
 At West Parish Four Corners, in Granby, a little to the 
 southeast, rises an elevation of land called Phin's Hill. At the 
 time of the Stamp Act, Phineas, son of our pioneer, Chileab 
 Smith, was living on the present Woodbridge street in South 
 Hadley. Before 1775 he had built a house upon and removed to 
 the eminence, named in his honor. He was one of those who 
 answered "present" to the call of Lexington, and his son David, 
 afterwards Major Smith, enlisted on his eighteenth birthday. 
 The widow of the latter died in South Hadley in June, 1850, and 
 the following incidents were related to the author by her. When 
 Captain Phineas Smith joined the army in 1776 he took with him 
 a young and very strong horse. When a colt it had always been 
 allowed, once every day, to walk up the stone steps and enter 
 the kitchen door in order to eat the piece of rye bread which 
 was always saved for it. One day, Captain Phineas having been 
 granted a short furlough, set out for home. Passing through 
 West Springfield his horse was possibly recognized by the tories, 
 and a party of them started in pursuit. Before he had been at 
 home a scant half hour his wife, chancing to pass the open win- 
 dow of the "keeping room," saw them just fastening their 
 horses under a large cherry tree that stood close by. Part of 
 the tories went to the rear of the house in order to watch that 
 side, while the others went to the front door, wliich was, fortu- 
 nately, barred. They pounded it loudly with their fists, crWng 
 out, "Open in the name of the King! Open in the name of the 
 King!" While his wife unbarred the door Captain Phineas 
 leaped from the window and, jumping upon one of their horses, 
 climbed to the top of the cherry tree, whose dense foliage 
 screened him from any but the closest observation. The tories 
 searched the house from garret to cellar ; they pulled the feather 
 beds to the floor and trampled upon them as they thrust their 
 swords into the ticks of the straw beds, and, in the language of 
 Mrs. Smith, ' ' They even looked in the bureau drawers. ' ' After 
 their departure Captain Smith descended from the tree, and as 
 soon as dusk had fallen, mounted his horse and returned to 
 camp, for he had lieard them say, "He has probably stopped 
 somewhere on the way ; we will come again after dark. ' ' 
 
152 IN OLD SOUTH EADLEY 
 
 Later on his wife, looking one day from a window, saw in 
 the distance a black speck which appeared to be followed by a 
 dark spot, the latter constantly gaining upon the former. Some 
 intuition told her that it was her husband upon a tired horse, 
 pursued by tories upon fresh ones. She hastily collected the 
 guns, pushed the heavy oak shutters across the windows, then, 
 with a sudden inspiration, ran to the kitchen door and, taking 
 off her apron, shook it frantically. They were now all ascend- 
 ing the steep hill, and almost abreast of one another. By some 
 subtle telepathy her husband caught at her idea and waved his 
 hand reassuringly. Entering the dooryard together, two tories 
 slipped from their horses ready to grasp the Captain as he 
 alighted, but to their surprise he rode his horse straight up the 
 steps into the kitchen, whose door clanged together an instant 
 after. The house was now like a little fort and the baffled tories, 
 fearing that the firing of guns would alarm the neighborhood, 
 decided that "Discretion was the better part of valor," and 
 speedily withdrew. 
 
 This was about the time when the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence was signed, and that event caused many of the tories to 
 seek other homes for themselves upon English soil. 
 
 Early in the year Rev. Mr. Woodbridge had read from the 
 pulpit a proclamation sent by the General Court at Boston, 
 which asserted that we owed no obedience to Parliament nor to 
 the royal governors, who had abrogated our charter, but it en- 
 treated all officers, from judge to tithing-man, to suppress all 
 disorders and immoralities, and directed the congregations to be 
 faithful in their attendance at divine service. This proclama- 
 tion omitted the customary "God save the King," and substi- 
 tuted "God save the people." It was also read at our annual 
 town meeting. 
 
 A second proclamation called for a meeting to be held for 
 the sake of obtaining our "Concurrence in declaring the Inde- 
 pendence of the Colonies." This was called for June 20, 1776, 
 and South Hadley at that time "voted in the affirmative by a 
 great majority." Five days later their sincerity was put to the 
 test, for an order came from the General Court that twelve 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 153 
 
 men should go from our town to reinforce the troops in Canada, 
 and each man must carry with him provisions for the journey, a 
 blanket, and other accouterments. There were at this time about 
 eighty families living here, and before the close of the war each 
 had, upon an average, sent two of its members into the army. 
 
 During the succeeding year the call for volunteers grew 
 more and more imperative, but the response came promptly and 
 cheerfully. One of these recruits was Josiah Draper, our Fall 
 Woods schoolmaster, to whom reference has been made in pre- 
 ceding chapters. He was in the habit of keeping a daily journal 
 of his doings, and this diary now enjoys the rare distinction 
 of being, so far as is known, the only one still in existence, that 
 was kept by a private of the Revolutionary Army. A messenger 
 had come asking for men to aid in opposing the march of Bur- 
 gojTie, and if possible to attack his army in the rear. For this 
 service, Josiah Drajjer and others in the town volunteered. Some 
 extracts here and there from his journal may prove to be of 
 interest ; and though his orthography might have made poor old 
 Lindley Murray blush for him, yet he was for those times an 
 unusually clever man. 
 
 "Sept. 12, 1777. Set out from South Hadley at two o'clock, 
 the day of enlistment. Stayed over night at S. Judds." "Sept. 
 13. Had a breakfast of coffee, rost pig, punkin pie, cheese, and 
 butter. Sold my Snuff Bottel." "Sept. 19. Paid a man six 
 shillings for carrying my pack to Ruperts. " "Sept. 20. Yester- 
 day wrote a letter to send home. Sent it to-day. Had a fine 
 chicken stew, eat hearty. The old wolf (Burgoyne) is gone." 
 
 Sept. 26, he reached Ticonderoga and was put upon guard 
 duty, the countersign being 'America.' 
 
 "Oct. 18. I wrote a letter to Captain Clark. One of ye 
 Deserters Court-Marsheled. " "Oct. 19. The man was whipt, 
 belongs to Col. Brewers Regiment, thirty lashes for Desertion." 
 "Sunday, Oct. 20. Mr. Throop preached from 'What is Man?' " 
 
 "Nov. 26. Dismissed to open my school. Sold my Brass 
 Buckles for five shillings. Set out for Home." 
 
 He walked one hundred and fifty-six miles in eight days on 
 his wav back. 
 
154 I^ OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 ' ' Dec. 4. Got Home. Sold my quart tin cup for fifty cents, 
 which was just half what it cost me. The Place I left the Bible 
 Class was the Psalter Class, Psalm 78:26." 
 
 The 28th verse chanced to be, "And he let it fall in the 
 midst of their camp." 
 
 When Josiah Draper "Reckoned with my book," he found 
 that he had not only spent up all his wages, but a good deal more, 
 owing, perhaps, to such entries as these: 
 
 "Wednesday, October 23. Bought Mutton taller. 
 
 "Bought sugar and Rum. Bought a barrel of Beer. 
 
 "Feel very weak and poor. Bought a gill of Brandy at 
 night." 
 
 But he was a true patriot, for only a week after his return 
 he was taking his savings of former years in order to equip three 
 more of our townsmen for the army, one of whom lived in Pearl 
 City. 
 
 A few weeks before Josiah Draper's enlistment there had 
 been an emergency call from Vermont for immediate help. It 
 was known as the Call of Bennington. Dr. A. J. Miller, who 
 helped to throw the tea overboard, was now a surgeon in the 
 army. His brother, Leonard, the ancestor of Mrs. C. A. Gridley, 
 had enlisted during the preceding March, and was now stationed 
 near the point of danger. Their younger brother, Joseph, father 
 of the late Mr. Daniel Miller (more familiarly known to the old 
 residents of South Hadley as "Uncle Daniel"), was very desi- 
 rous of joining the rescue party. He had no suit of clothes be- 
 fitting such a journey, through tangled woods and thorny 
 swamps. Only two days had been allowed the recruits for 
 preparation, and something must be done. Something ivas 
 done, for two sheep, one black and the other white, were hastily 
 led into the water and their fleeces washed. The shearing of the 
 pair was soon completed ; then everyone, even the children, was 
 set to work picking the wool apart, beating it with sticks, and 
 tossing it into the air. The older women, their hands thor- 
 oughly greased, mixed the white and black wool together in 
 order to make the "pepper and salt" cloth, which was, at that 
 era, in universal use. They had only hand cards with which to 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REVOLUTIOX 155 
 
 form it into rolls, and the women took turns during the first 
 night in sitting up to prepare it for spinning. Next morning 
 these rolls were twisted and drawn out on the spinning wheel 
 until fine enough to be called yarn. It was then wound on a 
 spindle and quilled. Twelve hours were spent in weaving the 
 five yards of cloth which were needed. The second night and 
 the next morning were fully occupied in cutting out and making, 
 by hand, the coat and knee breeches which composed the suit. 
 
 The news of Burgoyne's surrender was received at Hadley 
 on Sunday, October 20, 1777, and the good tidings wei-e doubt- 
 less sent at once to the assembled congregations at South Hadley 
 and Granby. The joy must have been great indeed, for Colonel 
 Woodbridge and his men had been in Ticonderoga at the time 
 of its evacuation, and there were many others from these two 
 towns still at the front. 
 
 One of the soldiers present on the occasion of Burgoyne's 
 surrender never forgot the scene. A grandson and namesake of 
 our pioneer, William Montague, had been apprenticed to Lieu- 
 tenant Eeuben Judd, of South Hadley, in order to learn the 
 carpenter's trade. 
 
 During the summer of 1777 Lieutenant Judd was drafted to 
 joint the northern army. He had already seen as much of mili- 
 tary service as he desired, and young Montague offered to go 
 as his substitute. His parents at first objected, but Colonel 
 Woodbridge obtained their consent by taking the youth as a 
 kind of aide-de-camp, under his own personal care. At the 
 time when Burgojme delivered up his sword to General Gates, 
 William Montague, being at that hour off duty, established him- 
 self upon a gate post whence he could witness the ceremony. 
 Burgoyne's sword, which was immediately returned to him, is 
 now in Hadley, he having presented it to Colonel Porter on his 
 way home. 
 
 After the American victory at Bennington, finding that 
 they possessed no adequate means of keeping the captured Hes- 
 sians confined in that place, numbers of them were sent to this 
 and neighboring towns to be "farmed out among the inliabitants, 
 who had the use of them in return for furnishing board, lodging 
 
156 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 and safe keeping." Some of them found such pleasant homes 
 and were so happy that when an opportunity was given them of 
 returning to the Fatherland they chose to remain. Others were 
 less contented; the records in Boston show that one of these 
 who had been located in our town, having heard that the British 
 had captured an American soldier, wrote a letter asking to be 
 exchanged for the new prisoner. Had he but known it, there 
 were still tories in West Springfield, who would have given him 
 shelter and concealment could he have escaped, but such pre- 
 cautions were taken, and their treatment was so kind that few 
 desired to leave this region. 
 
 While these events were taking place the officials of our 
 town had not been idle, and on February 11, 1777, a meeting of 
 the selectmen was held at the house of Captain Moses Montague, 
 "to prevent monopoly and high prices." 
 
 Horses were, at that time, in greater demand than ever be- 
 fore. There were frequent journeys to Springfield, partly in 
 order to obtain the latest news, and partly to carry the generous 
 contributions which were sent to the soldiers, — stockings and 
 shoes, clothing and food. We find one entry in our town records 
 — "Voted to provide 3460 waite of Beef for the Continental 
 Army;" and three months later, — "Voted to have by Feb. 6, 
 8000 pounds of Beef, our quota for the army." 
 
 Then, too, Springfield was the mustering point for Central 
 and Western Massachusetts; Colonel Woodbridge was the 
 muster master for that section, and Major Josiah White and 
 other leading citizens of South Hadley assisted him. In addition 
 to this, some who could not go to the war themselves lent their 
 horses to be used in the army. Taking all these things into con- 
 sideration, our Town-fathers said, "The price of horse travel 
 shall be two and one-fourth pence a mile." 
 
 Men's long stockings, knit from the best of wool, could be 
 charged for at the rate of six shillings "a pare," but common 
 shoes must be sold for eight shillings. Cheese was to be six- 
 pence and butter eight pence per pound, while rum was listed at 
 nine shillings a gallon. A mug of the best flip was to be sold 
 for a shilling, but for a "good meal of vittles" our innkeepers 
 
SOUTH HAULEY IX THE REVOLUTION 157 
 
 could charge only ten pence, and lodging must not exceed three 
 pence per night. 
 
 The most important matter left to the decision of this meet- 
 ing was in regard to the amount of wages which should be paid 
 for labor, especially during haying and harvesting. If the rate 
 were fixed at too high a figure then South Hadley might be 
 complained of at the General Court by the surrounding towns. 
 If it were too low, help would be hard to obtain. In the early 
 days strikes and labor troubles were a thing unknown, for the 
 state, taking matters into its own hands, had empowered town 
 officials to "impress men for mowing, reaping of corn, and in- 
 ning thereof." This law directed the husbandman who needed 
 more help during the ingathering of crops, to request the con- 
 stable to procure it for him. The latter was told to go to the 
 "artificers and handy craftsmen" and order them to take their 
 place in the field, "unless necessarily attending to like business 
 of their own." The shoemaker who refused to lay down his 
 last, or the carpenter who continued the use of hammer and 
 plane, and the weaver who remained at his loom, disregarding 
 such a summons, must each pay double the day's wages to the 
 poor of the town, and if the constable forgot or neglected to 
 notify the artisans, then he must himself pay the forfeit in their 
 place. 
 
 The final decision of our selectmen was to double the wage 
 rate established by the legislature of a century before, and give 
 the farm laborer three shillings a day. 
 
 So rapidly did the paper currency depreciate that two years 
 later it was voted, in South Hadley, "Town bills shall be doubled 
 twenty-four times for payment." The same year, when a call 
 came for six months' men, our town offered a bounty for en- 
 listment. One thousand dollars in continental bills, or twenty 
 silver dollars at the close of the service. Most of the volunteers 
 wisely chose the latter alternative. 
 
 Few people can rightly estimate the cost of our independ- 
 ence. Aside from the sufferings of the wounded, who could 
 command so little medical skill for the alleviation of pain ; aside 
 from the ever-present loneliness of the home that had been made 
 
158 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 desolate by the hand of death, there were other troubles to be 
 encountered. The laws which permitted imprisonment for debt 
 were still in force. Despite the kindness of neighbors, there 
 were some soldiers in this region who felt compelled to mortgage 
 their farms in order to support their families during their long 
 absences at the front. At the close of the war they received 
 pajTnent in continental bills, which became almost valueless, so 
 that they were obliged to sell their farms and begin life anew. 
 
 This was not the case with Deacon David Nash, who had 
 slaves enough to till his land when he was absent. And David 
 Mitchell, who lived on the old Hyde place, sent his slave CiEsar 
 into service for the country, while himself remaining here in 
 order to promote the work of collecting food and clothing for 
 the army. Caesar enlisted early in the war, at a time when the 
 soldiers were still paid in silver. He saved his wages and pur- 
 chased his own freedom, and thereafter it is doubtful whether 
 a prouder man than he ever entered our meeting house. His 
 very name, Caesar Cambridge, was classical, though his com- 
 rades from South Hadley and Granby, Peter Pendergras, Selor 
 Sword, Lorin Larkin and Jonas Jackson, could boast that theirs 
 were no less alliterative. 
 
 Barry, in his History of Massachusetts, states that the 
 grievance which induced South Hadley to join in the Revolution 
 was the refusal of Great Britain to permit the erection of slitting 
 mills in this country. So many buildings were constantly going 
 up that there was frequently a shortage of hand-made nails, and 
 these mills were able to convert iron bars into nail rods. During 
 the first half of the last century old people used to describe the 
 process of nail making as they had seen it done in our town. 
 
 On a cold winter's evening, when plenty of wood had been 
 heaped upon the flames in the big, old fireplace, the boys took 
 turns in holding the long nail rod in the coals till the end was red 
 hot. Then the father, with a stout hammer and many quick 
 blows, shaped this end into a point. Taking his chisel, he cut off 
 a piece of the rod, a little longer than the steel mold, or bore, as 
 it was called, into which he forced the bit of hot iron. Upon the 
 part which projected beyond the mold he struck heavily until 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REVOLUTION" 159 
 
 lie had flattened it into a head. When sufficiently cooled, the 
 nail was withdrawn from the mold, which could then be used over 
 again. 
 
 Some families became very expert at casting bullets, though 
 the melted lead oftentimes came from the sacrifice of their 
 cherished pewter. There was a call for ammunition at home as 
 well as abroad, for the very animals in the forest seemed to 
 know by intuition the defenseless state of many homes, and we 
 read in an old diary, kept by one of our ancestors, that the wild 
 hogs, with which the woods were filled, "Infested my garden." 
 Another entry runs thus — "To-day a wolf killed a young goat 
 for me in the pasture east of the house." The owner, hearing 
 the outcry, came with a loaded gun, but the wolf fled to a swamp, 
 where he concealed himself. The neighboring men were called 
 together, but Sir Lupus had escaped, and the record ends with — 
 "Drove the swamp and nothing got." 
 
 It will be no matter of surprise that the pastures and gar- 
 dens south of Mt. ITolyoke were less carefully guarded when we 
 remember that Granby and South Hadley together sent two 
 hundred and fifty fearless and faithful soldiers into the army. 
 Since they were all of them born previous to 1768, at which time 
 the East Parish was set otT as a separate town. South Hadley 
 may be forgiven for claiming their nativity as something of 
 which it might justly be proud. A part of these volunteers were 
 at West Point at the time when Washington first learned of the 
 treachery of Benedict Arnold. It was a season of deep discour- 
 agement throughout the country. The regiment to which these 
 men belonged had served its time and was waiting to be dis- 
 charged. The commander-in-chief desired to retain them longer, 
 but they were naturally impatient to return home. Levi Taylor, 
 who had enlisted at the age of sixteen, was among them. Often 
 in later years did he repeat to the wondering children the story 
 of what followed this appeal — General Washington told them of 
 his difficulties, and of the dangers that threatened their common 
 cause, and asked them if, as a personal favor to himself, they 
 would consent to stay a little longer. "Let every man who will 
 promise me to remain a month longer poise his gun!" said the 
 
160 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 commander. And the old soldier's voice rang out triumphantly 
 on his closing sentence — "And every man of us pized his piece." 
 
 Fifty years after the Revolution one of these old soldiers 
 remarked that he had seen as hard fighting in the streets of 
 South Hadley between whigs and tories, as any he had wit- 
 nessed while in camp. Stones and brickbats, however, though 
 dangerous missiles, did not, so far as we know, inflict any mortal 
 wounds. As time went on toryism disappeared from the town. 
 Its leaders selling their farms, or leaving them to be confiscated, 
 retired to other lands on a pension from the King. Some who 
 had been, perhaps, unjustly suspected of being British sympa- 
 thizers, removed to neighboring states. One family of Smiths 
 emigrated to Vermont. After the battle of Bennington they 
 opened their house to our wounded soldiers, whom they nursed 
 tenderly back into health. 
 
 A very pretty story might be written concerning the South 
 Hadley man who was consigned by the surgeon to the care of a 
 family named Smith, and found to their mutual surprise that he 
 was in the hands of his old neighbors. 
 
 Among the many incidents of the Revolution handed down 
 to us by our forefathers is the story of Mrs. Philips, the great- 
 grandmother of Granby's historian, A. W. Fisk. A party of 
 Revolutionary soldiers, recently discharged from service, and 
 returning to Chesterfield, New Hampshire, lost their way in 
 the woods and wandered for days, having only a few mouthfuls 
 of food to be shared between them. When at last they reached 
 the house of Mrs. Philips they were in a starving condition, and 
 begged piteously for something to eat. "If you will promise to 
 follow my directions implicitly, I will feed you," answered the 
 astute matron, and to this they agreed. A large kettle, filled 
 with hot water, was swinging from the crane in the big fireplace. 
 She stirred in Indian meal until it had attained the right con- 
 sistency for gruel and gave each of them a cupful to drink. 
 They clamored eagerly for more. "No," she said firmly. "You 
 promised to obey me, you must wait." Later on they had an- 
 other cupful. Little by little she nourished them till they were 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 161 
 
 able to partake of solid food, and the verdict of the doctor was 
 that her resolution and good sense had saved their lives. 
 
 Owing to the limits of the present chapter, many interesting 
 details in regard to the war must be omitted. We know in brief 
 that whenever our army met with defeat a day of fasting and 
 prayer was appointed by our minister, and neighboring pastors 
 often preached for him upon these occasions. But when a vic- 
 tory occurred all was joy and gladness. We learn from the old 
 orderly books that a great triumph was heralded by remitting 
 the punishment of those who had been sentenced to the whipping 
 post, and a gill of rum was allowed to every soldier in honor of 
 the event. Our minister always appointed a day of special 
 thanksgiving, and bonfires were lighted to express the universal 
 joy. 
 
 A brother of one of our deacons, who lived north of Mt. 
 Holyoke, one day met two youths rolling an empty tar barrel 
 before them. "Whither away, boys!" he asked. They answered 
 him respectfully, "We are going to the moimtain, sir, to cele- 
 brate the victory of which we have just heard." "And is that 
 the way to praise God for his goodness? Back to yonder build- 
 ing," pointing to the meeting house, "and let us there thank God 
 as we ought." So saying he drove the reluctant youths before 
 him, and kneeling in the sacred edifice, with a boy upon either 
 side of him, made a long prayer. 
 
 Soldiers returning from camp brought back to us many new 
 songs, which were soon heard in both kitchen and field, and even 
 upon the very steps of the sanctuary. One of the favorites, sung 
 to the tune of Chester, ran thus : 
 
 "Let tyrants shake their iron rod, 
 And slavery clank her galling chains; 
 We'll fear them not; we'll trust in God, 
 New England's God forever reigns. 
 The foe comes on with haughty stride, 
 Our troops advance with martial noise ; 
 Their veterans flee before our arms. 
 And generals yield to beardless boys. ' ' 
 
162 IN OLD SOUTH HA]:)LEY 
 
 The surrender of Cornwallis on October 19. 1781, must have 
 seemed a complete fulfillment of this prophecy. The news of that 
 event did not reach South Hadley until the following December, 
 at which time the Granby minister promptly appointed a day of 
 thanksgiving. We find by old records that the pastors of Belch- 
 ertown and Granby always acted in unison with Mr. Woodbridge 
 in such matters, so we must have had a service of praise. The 
 Granby minister is said to have preached from the text, "Thou 
 has done great things for us, whereof we are glad." 
 
 Among the ensigns of Colonel Woodbridge 's regiment was 
 a person of fine appearance and pleasing address, who fought in 
 the battle of Bunker Hill. This man was Daniel Shays, the 
 leader and instigator of the insurrection called Shay's Rebellion. 
 The history of this uprising is too familiar to need repetition; 
 but the flight of his soldiers from Springfield to Amherst gave 
 to many of our townsmen a night of terror. 
 
 On the 27th of January, 1787, Jonathan Burnett, a veteran 
 of the Revolutionary War, was absent from home. He lived on 
 College street, in the house now owned by G. F. Canney. It was 
 a very cold day, and the snow lay thick upon the ground. As 
 the darkness deepened his children gathered before the open 
 fire. Strange sounds were heard in the street, and before the 
 little one in the trundle bed was sound asleep their uncle hastily 
 entered the house. He briefly informed them that Shay's men 
 had seized two barrels of rum in the tavern a little south of 
 them and were already so intoxicated that they were breaking 
 windows, furniture, and anything that came in their way. He 
 begged the mother to hide herself and the children without delay. 
 A stairway led from the kitchen to a large cellar where the cider 
 barrels were kept. Adjoining this, but separated from it by a 
 thick wall, was a small excavation known as the root cellar, 
 access to which could be obtained from the southeast front room, 
 through a small recess that might easily be mistaken for a cup- 
 board. Hardly were the family concealed in the root cellar 
 when the troopers raided the house. They went from room to 
 room, punctuating their march with frequent libations, oaths and 
 
SOUTH HADLEY IX THE EEVOLUTION 163 
 
 empty boasts of what they would do in the future. The fright- 
 ened children did not utter a sound, and remained undiscovered. 
 
 Meanwhile, one of their officers outside the house shot a 
 comrade by mistake, supposing him to be one of their pursuers. 
 This fact, however, did not stop the rioting. Captain Noah 
 Goodman, who lived in the house next to Judson Hall, was a 
 prominent government official. He had been for years a mem- 
 ber of the legislature, and was one of the committee who formu- 
 lated our state constitution. His house was attacked and plun- 
 dered, also that of Colonel Woodbridge, and many others. 
 
 Tradition tells us that some of our men gathered at the par- 
 sonage, but were too few in number to go out and engage in 
 battle. At the turn of the road, where the Amherst highway 
 leaves Woodbridge street, a majority of Shays' men started 
 toward the Notch. A few kept on through Pearl City, and one 
 of the latter stopped at the old "Heman White place," for 
 warmth and rest. Upon departing he handed the host his horse- 
 pistol with the words, * ' Keep this till I call for it. ' ' It has never 
 been reclaimed. 
 
 Deacon Daniel Moody was ill that night, and the fire had not 
 been banked as usual. Some of Shays' followers, seeing the 
 ruddy glow upon the window pane, knocked at the door. A 
 servant girl admitted them to the kitchen, where the deacon 
 was sleeping upon one of the rude folding beds of that day. 
 The loud voices of the men awoke him. Starting up in indignant 
 surprise, he called out, "How came those villains in my house? 
 Begone instantly, every one of you." A drunken soldier ad- 
 vanced with his weapons, ready to kill the doughty deacon, but 
 the servant girl interposed. "La, now!" she said, soothingl.v, 
 "don't mind him. He is only a doited old man, and not worth 
 noticing. ' ' 
 
 The insurrection found but few adherents in this immediate 
 vicinity. When its discomfited volunteers returned, those of 
 them who were church members found themselves debarred from 
 partaking of the bread and wine at communion. But later, after 
 they had taken anew the oath of allegiance, and had avowed their 
 
164 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 penitence, they were again received into fellowship with the 
 church. 
 
 Upon each recurring Fourth of July we are reminded of the 
 war which gave us independence. It was not until 1783 that this 
 day became a national holiday. Previous to that year, March 
 5 had been observed in commemoration of the Boston massacre. 
 But after peace had been established, it was thought best to 
 adojjt in its place the Fourth of July as the date for annual cele- 
 bration. In the beginning the day was filled, not simply with 
 noisy demonstrations, but with sermons, orations, and patriotic 
 songs, which were followed by an ample collation for the whole 
 town. It was intended to recall to everyone's memory the brave 
 deeds and heroic suffering of our soldiers. 
 
 The price paid for our independence cannot be measured 
 by the standards of to-day. The nameless graves on distant bat- 
 tlefields, and the sacred dust that beneath the bronze marker 
 reposes in our old-fashioned churchyards, prove the truth of the 
 poet's description — • 
 
 "They left the plough share in the mould, 
 Their flocks and herds without a fold. 
 The sickle in the unshorn grain. 
 The corn, half garnered, on the plain 
 And mustered in their simple dress. 
 For wrongs to seek a stern redress. 
 To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, 
 To perish or o'ercome the foe." 
 
TTTE OROVK 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE BEVOLUTION 
 
 IN 1800 female missionary societies were first instituted in 
 Boston. Later, spinning, weaving, and knitting societies 
 
 were formed for the purpose of sending the Gospel to the 
 heathen, and cent societies and mite societies sprang up as if by 
 magic. 
 
 In those days it was customary for the women to retain 
 the money received from the sale of eggs and butter, with 
 which they were expected to defray their own personal expenses, 
 including their contributions toward benevolent objects. The 
 story of their introduction here may be learned from the follow- 
 ing extracts, taken from the letters written by one of our old 
 residents : 
 
 "South Hadley, September 27, 1803. I have lately seen a 
 plan of a Female Charitable Association, for the purchase and 
 distribution of the Bible and other good books among the needy 
 inhabitants at the West. This plan is transmitted to the minis- 
 ters' wives throughout the covmtry. In Longmeadow I hear 
 that there are a hundred subscribers. I do not know the number 
 in South Hadley." .... "We are attempting to form a so- 
 ciety to assist the Cherokee Mission by furnishing clothing for 
 the children in that school. Twenty-four have given their names 
 as members, and there will probably be enough to make thirty, 
 who come very cheerfully, and for conscience's sake. Some 
 others will probably fall in reluctantly and for fashion's sake, 
 and many will keep back for covetousness' sake. They will ask: 
 
 " 'What constitutes a member of this society?' 
 
 " 'Fifty cents annually, and the privilege of giving as much 
 more as you choose.' 
 
 "'What! Fifty cents every year ? ' 
 
 " 'That constitutes a member, but I presume the ladies 
 generally will esteem it a privilege to give more.' 
 
166 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 " 'What ! More than half a dollar every year? How much 
 to the other societies?' 
 
 " 'Fifty cents to the Cent Society, and twenty-five to the 
 Dorcas.' 
 
 " 'Fifty and fifty make a dollar, and twenty-five makes 7/6, 
 seven and sixpence a year given away for nothing. And who 
 knows what becomes ont? I don't spose a bit ont ever gits 
 where they pretend to send it, and if it did I don't know as 
 'twonld do any good. I have a large family of my own to sup- 
 port and carnt do half as well by them as I wanter. ' ' ' 
 
 From a subsequent letter by the same writer, we glean this 
 account of our first Sabbath School : 
 
 "South Hadley, August 2, 1819. 
 
 "Our Sunday School flourishes; we have 120 scholars. "We 
 use Gumming 's Catechism, with Psalms and Hymns and the 
 Sacred Scriptures. I have a class of young ladies from sixteen 
 to nineteen years old who were themselves teachers when the 
 school commenced. 
 
 "I generally select the lessons, and recommend it to them 
 to read Scott or some other expositor, on the portion which they 
 commit. They usually get fifty answers in Cummings, and from 
 fifty to sixty verses of Scripture each week. Sister Harriet, E. 
 Whitney, Mr. P. and E. White have classes, and many others. 
 We think six enough for a class." 
 
 The first superintendent was Deacon Josiah White, who 
 was assisted by Mr. Joseph Strong. In 1826 to its other at- 
 tractions was added a Sunday School Library. After the open- 
 ing of Mt. Holyoke Seminary some of its most gifted members 
 became teachers in our Sabbath School, two nieces of Mary 
 Lyon being among the number. 
 
 More than sixty years ago an infant class was started, with 
 a membership of forty, and has ever since remained a marked 
 feature of the school. 
 
 Soon after 1830 Sunday School concerts began to be held. 
 These were attended only by adults, and were observed as a 
 season of prayer for the conversion of the pupils. About the 
 middle of the century children were admitted to these concerts, 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE EEVOLUTIOX 1G7 
 
 and even allowed to join in the singing. After a few years the 
 young were asked to recite verses from the Bible, and so little 
 by little it became almost wholly a children's meeting. Its in- 
 ception and continued success may have resulted in some meas- 
 ure from Josiah Draper's Psalter Class, in which, as his diary 
 shows, he felt a vital interest. 
 
 Colonial laws permitted the enslavement of Indians taken 
 captive in war. But, skilled as they were in woodcraft, it was 
 almost impossible to prevent their escape. They were accord- 
 ingly exchanged for negroes from the West Indies, nearly six 
 thousand of whose descendants were, at the time of the Stamp 
 Act, held as slaves in the State of Massachusetts. Some of this 
 number were owned in our town, though their servitude was of 
 so mild a type that it could hardly be called bondage. If no 
 guests were present they sat at the same table with their 
 master and his family, and partook of the same food. 
 
 If the child of Caesar or Phillip died our minister entered the 
 fact on the church record with as much precision as if he had 
 been the son of an archbishop. 
 
 The state line between Massachusetts and Connecticut was 
 near enough to us so that an escaping fugitive could easily cross 
 the border, but so kindly were the slaves treated that we find no 
 , case of a runaway here who did not return of his own accord. 
 There was an unwritten law in this vicinity that any slave who 
 had been cruelly and unjustly beaten by his master should be 
 given food and concealment if he asked for it. The truth of the 
 following incident is fully vouched for : 
 
 Two brothers, both of them having families, lived near here, 
 but several miles apart. The elder had an undisciplined temper, 
 which was easily aroused, while the younger was of a gentle dis- 
 position. The former had, in a fit of anger, punished one of his 
 slaves so severely that the negro ran away. He soon found his 
 way to the house of the younger brother and asked for his pro- 
 tection. Here he remained, working faithfully, until on a certain 
 day word was hastily brought that the owner was approaching, 
 determined to reclaim his property, and vowing that vengeance 
 should be taken on the culprit. The "Live Moor," as negroes 
 
168 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 were then called, was quickly hidden beneath an empty hogshead 
 in the cellar, and the host went forth to meet the quondam 
 master with a placid smile. In respose to an impatient demand 
 for the bondman, he said that he would search for the slave if 
 the owner would promise upon the Bible not to whip the fugi- 
 tive. This offer met with a prompt and decided refusal. "Look 
 for him yourself then," said the younger brother, in an unmoved 
 tone. Look he did, but to no avail. At last, finding that threats, 
 bribes and prayers were wholly unheeded, he gave the required 
 promise, and thereafter treated the runaway so well that he 
 never again attempted to escape. 
 
 The slaveholder was often a man of religious as well as 
 social prominence, and ministers sometimes found this owner- 
 ship their leading title to aristocracy. The list of masters in this 
 town included the names of — Deacon David Nash, Deacon Wil- 
 liam Eastman, Squire Benjamine Eastman, David Mitchell, etc. 
 The road from the house of the latter to the present homestead 
 of Johu Graves was designated for years as Slave street. 
 
 After the Eevolution it had become evident that the climate 
 of Massachusetts was too severe for a race reared in the warm 
 latitudes of the Antilles, and slavery was an improfitable invest- 
 ment. It died away in this region quietly, and without the 
 exercise of law. One of the stones in the old burying ground 
 bore this inscription: "William McGee, Died Mar. 2, 1861, AE 
 101." This marked the grave of the last slave born before the 
 war of independence, who was buried in our cemetery. 
 
 "Bill McGee," as he was always called, had been owned 
 in youth by a man in New Jersey, who was not always kind to 
 him. One day he was sent to pick huckleberries in a swamp in- 
 fested with wild animals, and was not permitted to carry even a 
 stick with which to defend himself. His pail was nearly full 
 when he saw a large bear advancing leisurly toward him, snip- 
 ping at the bushes on either side of the path. "I knew jest what 
 kind of a huckleberry dat bar was after, and I started to run, 
 and never stopped running till I got to Massachusetts," was his 
 explanation to his South Hadley neighbors. In extreme old 
 age it was his delight to gather a group of children about him 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE EEVOLUTION IG!) 
 
 and tell them stories of the Revolution. His fame as a eenten- 
 narian annoyed him, and if anyone questioned him in regard to 
 his age his answer was, "I am so old that I am ashamed to be 
 alive." He was held in such universal respect that everyone 
 was ready to contribute to his headstone. 
 
 Even before the passage of the Fugitive Slave Bill, South 
 Hadley became one of the earliest stations on the underground 
 railroad. Runaway slaves who reached Springfield were sent 
 to a Mr. BuUens, at Chicopee; he forwarded them to our town, 
 whence they were transported across the mountain to South 
 Amherst, where, feeling themselves comparatively safe, a part 
 of them remained, while others pressed on to Canada. A 
 parallel line ran upon the other side of the Connecticut River. 
 Slaves were sent from Springfield to be concealed in the house of 
 Rev. Thomas Rand, who was or had been one of the first Bap- 
 tist ministers in Holyoke, and were sent from there to North- 
 ampton. These journeys were usually made under cover of the 
 darkness, in the middle of the night. Among those who re- 
 ceived hospitality here were Lewis and Milton Clark, the former 
 being the original George Harris of Mrs. Stowe's "Uncle Tom's 
 Cabin." The story of all these escapes would fill a volume. 
 
 Few events have produced so great a change in our town 
 as the Temperance Reformation. It was a common saying here 
 that cider was as plentiful as water. Some of our old inven- 
 tories state that the deceased had "a decent supply of furni- 
 ture," but the list usually includes a hand-press for the grind- 
 ing of apples. Soldiers returning from war sometimes brought 
 back an appetite for something stronger than cider. R^un had 
 been served as a part of their rations when there had been un- 
 usual exposure, or on occasions of great rejoicing, and statistics 
 show that twenty-five years after the Revolution the .average 
 consumption of intoxicating liquor was three times as large as 
 it had been when the Declaration of Independence was signed. 
 
 At the settlement of the town there had been a law that no 
 one should drink liquor after nine o 'clock in the evening, but this 
 appears to have become a dead letter. The moderate drinker 
 had always the example of the parson to plead in his own 
 
170 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 defense. Eev. Joseph Condit, who was settled here in 1835, 
 was the first one of our ministers wlio refused the glass of cider, 
 hrandv, or the spiced elderberry vnne, which his parishioners 
 delighted to offer him, and when he made his pastoral calls, cake 
 and cheese soon took the place of the former hospitable toddy. 
 
 It was not considered a heinous otfense for young men to 
 get together for a con\'ivial time, in the long winter evenings. 
 It was looked upon as a great joke to give one of their number 
 a surprise, and ask for spirituous liquor till they had exhausted 
 his store and he was compelled to refuse them. The last of these 
 
 gatherings was at the house of Mr. J. , on Hadley street. 
 
 This host was himself a professional joker, and was looked upon 
 as a fair butt for their fun. Fortunately for him, he had five 
 minutes' warning before the company arrived, and filled the 
 shelves of his cupboard with empty bottles of dark glass. As 
 he opened the last of the full ones, he swung back the door of the 
 cupboard, and pointing to the row of bottles, said cheerily, 
 "Don't stop yet ! We must go through all those." His visitors, 
 much chagrined, soon departed, and when later they found out 
 the truth, this custom of "drinking a man dry" was dropped. 
 
 The faithful sermons of Mr. Condit against the use of ardent 
 spirits had prepared the way for a Temperance Crusade. The 
 Washingtonian Movement, which was said to have reformed 150,- 
 000 persons, had begun in Northampton, and conventions were 
 held there. To these went delegates from South Hadley, and 
 the following incident was related to the author as being the first 
 total abstinence story ever told in this town: 
 
 One of the farmers, who, like all others of his ilk, kept sheep, 
 was in the habit of taking a glass of bitters every morning be- 
 fore breakfast. Two of his sons did the same, but the third, 
 too young to drink spirituous liquors, had only the sugar at the 
 bottom of the glasses. The father, much impressed by what he 
 had heard at the Temperance Convention, and feeling that he 
 might have given his children a better preparation for the duties 
 of life than teaching them to drink ardent spirits, promised that 
 if his two sons would for a specified time give up their morn- 
 ing dram, he would present each of them with a fine sheep. They 
 

SOUTH HADLEY AFT1']R THE REVOLUTION 171 
 
 assented to this proposal, upon wbieli the small boy asked, 
 "What will you give me if I will go without the sugar at the bot- 
 tom of the glass?" "You," returned the parent promptly, 
 "shall have a lamb." Next morning the three sons were sit- 
 ting at table while the father mixed bis usual dram. Suddenly 
 the youngest said, in a perfectly respectful tone: "Father, 
 hadn't you better take a sheep, too?" His conscience was 
 touched, and, tlirowing the contents of his glass from the win- 
 dow, he signed the pledge, and was ever after a total abstainer 
 from strong drink. 
 
 The pledge, which was signed by nearly all the children in 
 our town, ran thus : 
 
 ' ' This little band do with our hand 
 The pledge now sign, to drink no wine. 
 Nor whiskey hot, which makes the sot, 
 Nor fiery rum, to turn our home 
 Into a hell where none can dwell. 
 So now we pledge perpetual hate 
 To all that can intoxicate." 
 
 A portion of these rhymes, with an appropriate picture, 
 was printed upon pieces of thick satin ribbon and given to the 
 children to wear as badges at South Hadley's great temper- 
 ance picnic, which the oldest inhabitants still delight to recall. 
 
 The contagion of example spread, and the successive years 
 in which our town voted no-license may have been a part of the 
 aftermath from these early reforms. 
 
 The annual observance of Visiting Day was retained here 
 until after the middle of the nineteenth century. On a certain 
 day in each year, appointed by the minister, all the inhabitants 
 of the village were expected to be at home, the men freshly 
 shaven, and the women and children in clean dresses and aprons. 
 The family Bible was placed ready at hand upon the candle 
 stand. The deacons, in their Sunday best, and assisted by some 
 of the leading church members, sallied forth two and two in 
 order to visit every family in the neighborhood. They began 
 their call by inquiring of everyone in regard to the state of his 
 
172 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 or her soul. "Have you been converted?" "Do you spend some 
 portion of each day in secret prayer?" "Have you the full as- 
 surance of faith?" "Do you maintain family worship every 
 morning and evening?" etc. After a time one visitor read 
 aloud a chapter from the Bible. Then all knelt while the other 
 offered a long prayer. This custom appears to have been a sur- 
 vival of the old times when five tithing men were chosen at our 
 town meeting to look after the moral and spiritual welfare of 
 families and see to it that the children were taught to repeat 
 the catechism. 
 
 During the Revolution so many of our men were absent in 
 camp that, as in other towns, women and girls learned to care 
 for the fields and gardens. One of the South Hadley matrons 
 thus describes life in 1785: 
 
 "It was not uncommon for young ladies of the first families 
 to spend some hours in a day in weeding their gardens. They 
 were dressed in a coarse wrapper, with a slat sunbonnet com- 
 pletely covering the face, and gloves from the shoulders to the 
 middle of the fingers, leaving the ends bare to pull the weeds. 
 Thus they set an example of humility and diligence to their in- 
 feriors, which had a very desirable effect." 
 
 We are indebted to the same writer for the following pic- 
 ture of our old church, with its square pews, when the August 
 sun streamed through the windows, all of which were guiltless 
 of blinds. 
 
 "You would almost laugh to look into our meeting house 
 on the Sabbath, to see the young men in the galleries, all in their 
 shirt sleeves, and the girls and women with their bonnets im- 
 tied, and all looking as if they had been making hay." 
 
 The discomfort of the summer heat was, however, but 
 trifling when compared with the suffering occasioned by the win- 
 ter 's cold. The severity of the climate was simply mitigated, not 
 tempered, by the use of small foot stoves. The supply of these 
 was so limited that only the aged, the infirm, and children were 
 expected to use them. Stoves of the old-fashioned box kind 
 appeared in our meeting house but a short time previous to 1840. 
 We find the parish in 1838 voting to "make such alterations in 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION 173 
 
 fitting up stoves to warm the house, as they (the committee) 
 shall deem expedient." They also voted to "take away parti- 
 tion to give room for stoves." 
 
 During the long time before the introduction of artificial 
 heat into the meeting house, people had become accustomed to 
 a cold church, and there was now some opposition to the purchase 
 of stoves. Their warmth, it was argued, would promote drowsi- 
 ness, and the words of the preacher would fail of effect. This 
 sinful indulgence of the body would also tend toward weakness 
 of soul. The amount of heat diffused was at first so little that 
 the old folks became reconciled, and even came to church a half 
 an hour before time for the service to begin in order to stand 
 together around the fire while they warmed their cold hands 
 and exchanged the news of the day. 
 
 For a short time previous to 1830 "cook stoves" were ad- 
 vertised for sale at Bardwell's store in the Canal Village, as 
 South Hadley Falls was then called. The following description 
 of the first one actually in use here is from the pen of Mr. 
 Byron Smith, and will be of interest to those who do not under- 
 stand how so long a time could have intervened before the 
 cooking range superseded the old-fashioned fireplace in do- 
 mestic affairs. 
 
 "The first cooking stove was brought into South Had- 
 ley by E. T. Smith in the fall of 1835. The name of it was the 
 Doctor Mott (or Nott) stove, after the man who invented it. 
 It was made of cast iron and was so heavy that four men were 
 needed to carry it into the ell part of the old Woodbridge house 
 in which Mrs. Hollingsworth now lives, where it was set up. 
 The stove was made after the style of an old iron fire frame. 
 There were two holes for kettles, and above them a broad top, or 
 shelf, which had to be lifted up when the kettles were taken off 
 the stove. There was no oven in this first stove ; it would take 
 in a stick of wood two feet long. Improvements were made so 
 rapidly that this crude affair was abandoned after two years." 
 He adds: "E. T. Smith also brought into town the first load of 
 wheat flour in barrels. He had moved here from Rochester, 
 New York, where the Kempshal flour was manufactured, and 
 
174 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 had purchased twenty barrels, which were sent East by the Erie 
 Canal to New York, then up the Connecticut Eiver to Middle- 
 town. The river at this place was frozen over, so two teams 
 were sent down from here, driven by Deacon Sedgwick White 
 and Q. M. Smith, who brought up the flour. The people were 
 wild with interest, and thought it a great extravagance. Previ- 
 ously, wheat flour had been used sparingly, and as a great lux- 
 ury. ' ' 
 
 The coming of the cook stove in South Hadley was ante- 
 dated in 1821 by the introduction into the pulpit at the meeting 
 house of an oblong iron box in which a fire might be kindled. 
 This was done at the request of the pastor, Eev. Joel Hayes, 
 who had preached here for nearly forty years, without losing 
 a single service on account of illness. He was now an old man 
 approaching seventy, and suffered keenly from the frigid at- 
 mosphere of the building. 
 
 There being no chimney, some outlet must be provided for 
 the escape of smoke. A pane of glass was probably removed 
 from the leaded window near by, thus making an opening 
 through which the end of the pipe could be conveyed into the 
 open air. The pew next this stove had always been accounted 
 one of the most honorable seats in the meeting house, having 
 been occupied by the leading widows of the town. It now became 
 also one of the most comfortable. The old records were care- 
 ful to state that this stove was not presented to the minister, 
 but would remain the property of the town. 
 
 It had been customary in the winter for all the members 
 of the congregation to spend the intermission between the morn- 
 ing and afternoon services either in their own homes or at the 
 friendly Noon Houses, which every Sunday opened liosi)itable 
 doors to the shivering worshipers. After the benediction had 
 been pronounced, each person remained standing in perfect 
 silence while the minister descended the eight stairs leading 
 from the pulpit. As he reached the outer door, all hastened to 
 leave the cold meeting house, the parsonage receiving its full 
 quota of visitors. The children, with their mothers, walked 
 across the common to the tavern of Deacon Joseph Wliite, which 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE EEVOLUTION 175 
 
 stood upon the western slope, and was later known as the Old 
 Chandler House. Here they were received by a portly, fine 
 looking man, and his sweet-faced little wife, whose gentleness 
 won all hearts. 
 
 There were no furniture stores near here at that time, and 
 in this town the chairs were made by the skilled hands of Syl- 
 vester Higgins, who pegged them together so stoutly that they 
 are still able to defy the ravages of time. 
 
 There were not enough chairs for the children, who were 
 bidden to seat themselves upon the little footstoves, which were 
 now entirely cold. Then Deacon Wliite brought in an immense 
 pan of nut cakes, and his wife followed with a towering plate of 
 cheese. In suppressed tones the women related to one an- 
 other the events of the week, but at the first stroke of the bell, 
 which Colonel "VVoodbridge had given. Deacon Joseph raked out 
 the glowing embers from the big fireplace, emptied the iron 
 boxes which had been taken out of the little footstoves, and 
 filled them with live coals, placing a layer of hot ashes upon 
 the top in order to conserve the heat. Then the little proces- 
 sion started back beneath the bare limbs of the cherry and pear 
 trees that overhung their path, bringing memories of summer 
 fruits. 
 
 Invalids, very old people and distinguished guests were 
 expected to spend their noonings at the house of Dr. Dwight, 
 which was afterwards removed in order to yield its site to the 
 College Art Building. It was a spacious dwelling, a portion of 
 which has been fitted up as an infirmary. The name of Dr. Elihu 
 Dwight was constantly spoken of as the synonym of hospitality. 
 In his large central hall there was always kept a table and 
 chairs, and he had one undeviating rule for his household: "Let 
 no person ever enter my door without finding in this hall, cake, 
 and, in its season, fruit, awaiting him." Ably seconded by his 
 wife, their house was usually thronged with visitors. 
 
 Dr. Dwight 's kindness was not limited to his guests. Believ- 
 ing that the early inhabitants of Hockanum found it a hard 
 struggle to subdue the rocky soil, he offered to give them his 
 medical services in return for his annual supply of pumpkins. 
 
176 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 They agreed to this, and when ill sent for him. Every autumn 
 he might be seen on a certain day driving home a cart piled 
 high with his yellow prizes. He was the dentist as well as the 
 physician of the town, and his kind heart suffered at the pain 
 he was compelled to inflict in this branch of his profession. 
 
 The late Mr. Nash, of Moody Corner, used to tell how, when 
 he was a lad, he went down to Dr. Dwight to have an ulcerated 
 tooth extracted. The dentist had no forceps, and only a cruel, 
 iron turnkey with which to twist it out. The instant Dr. Dwight 
 looked at the tooth he saw that it could not be taken out with- 
 out giving the youth a moment of supreme agony. ' ' How much 
 will it cost to have it pulled?" asked Erastus. "Well," re- 
 turned the medical man, "if I give you much pain I shall have 
 to charge you twenty-five cents, but if I don't hurt you, it will 
 not cost you anything. ' ' After he had finished and the boy was 
 ready to return home, the latter produced his two ninepences. 
 ' ' How much is it ?" he inquired. ' ' Did I hurt you ? ' ' queried the 
 Doctor. ' ' N-no, sir, ' ' replied the plucky lad. ' ' Then you owe me 
 nothing," said the dentist, and the boy departed homeward, 
 the coins jingling merrily in his pockets. 
 
 It is hard at this epoch to realize the fortitude required of 
 our forefathers, and the patient industry needed at a time when 
 the present common necessities of life were often deemed luxur- 
 ies. We find among the old papers of a former South Hadley 
 merchant this label: "Roberts, Pin and Needle Maker to Her 
 Eoyal Highness, the Dutchess of Clarence. Roberts' Royal Im- 
 prov'd Pins." In the early part of the nineteenth century, 
 these London pins were sometimes a dollar a paper, and very 
 small papers at that. So costly was this article that brides 
 were given as a part of their dowry a sum sufiBcient for their 
 purchase, which was called their Pin Money. About the time of 
 the Revolution, people began to manufacture them in this coun- 
 try, but it was said that without a division of labor it would re- 
 quire several hours to make a single one. Some of these old 
 pins still remain in the town. They were formed by cutting off 
 a piece of brass wire of the required length, one end of which 
 was carefully sharpened to a point upon a grindstone. The 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTEE THE EEVOLUTION 177 
 
 head was prepared by winding a finer and more delicate wire 
 into spirals of exactly the same size as the body of the pin. Two 
 or three of these coils were cut off, slipped over the point, and 
 pushed to the other extremity of the bit of brass wire, where it 
 was riveted, thus forming the head of the pin. These proved to 
 be clumsy and expensive affairs. 
 
 Wlien Stephen White set up his carding mill here, the rolls 
 of wool were sent home carefully wrapped in coarse tow cloth, 
 but the scarcity of these brass pins was so great that he paid 
 the boys a certain sum per thousand for thorns to be used in 
 their stead. Eyelets through which linen twine could be 
 passed were used as fastenings upon many articles of dress, 
 and a bodkin was sure to be found in the work-basket of every 
 family. 
 
 One of the most pressing needs in the olden households 
 was to find some easy method of kindling fires. In the scat- 
 tered houses of our more remote districts it was often neces- 
 sary in winter for members of the family to sit up in turn 
 through the night in order to keep the fire alive. The great 
 back log must be banked at the close of the evening, or it would 
 be burned out before morning, and if, on the other hand, it was 
 covered too deeply with ashes, it would be smothered. In places 
 where there were several houses near together one could take 
 risks, for the men of South Hadley, who knew (as we have had 
 ocular proof) how to make their own ploughs and pitchforks, 
 also constructed small iron boxes, with handles two or three 
 feet long, intended for the borrowing of live coals from a neigh- 
 bor's fire. And the first smoke rising from a friend's chimney 
 was a signal that help was to be had there. 
 
 After the close of the Revolutionary War, some of our sol- 
 diers, returning with their flint locks, resorted to a new expedi- 
 ent for procuring a flame. The screw at the end of the ramrod 
 was twisted into a mass of refuse tow, then drawn out and 
 rammed into the barrel of the gun. A pinch of powder was de- 
 posited in the flash pan, and a percussion cap put into place. 
 When the latter had been exploded, splinters of pitch pine were 
 thrust into the burning tow, which had been ignited, and from 
 
178 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 these sticks a blaze could be quickly started in the old fireplace. 
 This method, however, was used sparingly, many families ob- 
 jecting to so noisy a process for kindling a fire. 
 
 The earliest form of matches introduced into this covmtry 
 found its way into South Hadley, but apparently met with 
 scanty favor, only one of its time-worn boxes remaining here 
 to tell the tale. It consisted of a number of small bits of wood 
 tipped with sulphur, and a bottle of phosphorus, all incased in a 
 small box bearing upon one side a piece of flint. The wooden 
 matches were to be dipped, one by one, as they were needed, 
 into the phosphorus and then drawn across the piece of flint. The 
 flame thus obtained was of so evanescent a character that a 
 bit of wood whose end had been dipped in turpentine must be 
 kept at hand in order to be immediately lighted. They were 
 sometimes dangerous when left within the reach of children, 
 for a drop of the phosphorus would instantly burn a hole through 
 woolen cloth. 
 
 Tradition tells us that one of these boxes of matches was 
 carried to school by a thoughtless pupil; all the other girls 
 must needs examine it, and the result was so disastrous to their 
 woolen dresses that the new invention was banished from our 
 town. 
 
 The first patent upon friction matches issued by the United 
 States was given to Alonzo D. Phillips of Springfield, Mass.. 
 in the autumn of 1836, and he began their manufacture in that 
 city. He formed a paste by mixing glue, chalk, sulphur and 
 phosphorus, and into this the end of each match was dipped. 
 Two years later, Stephen Merchant of South Hadley, who lived 
 in the house now occupied by Emil Burnette, made matches six 
 inches long, which he sold for a cent apiece. They were in cards 
 which he had sawed out by hand, and with every box there went 
 a folded piece of sandpaper. Someone, probably Pliillips, ac- 
 cused him of infringing upon another man's patent, and com- 
 pelled him to close up his business. 
 
 Other household conveniences had been gradually coming 
 into use. Sanded floors had been on the whole rather trouble- 
 some. The first carpet made in the town was woven by Mrs. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION ITlJ' 
 
 Jerusha Powers, and after nearly a century of wear its colors; 
 are almost as soft and harmonious to-day as when it first came 
 from the loom. The first ingrain carpet was purchased by Mr, 
 Robert Brainard of Falls Woods. This was deemed such an 
 unheard-of extravagance that six of his Methodist brethren, 
 including the deacons, came in a body to remonstrate with him, 
 l)ut he defended his course with such ability that they departed, 
 half convinced that he was in the right. His wisdom has been 
 demonstrated by the fact that seventy years later it is now still 
 in use, and its brilliant hues were long the pride of the neigh- 
 borhood. 
 
 To-day clocks are looked upon as an essential part of the 
 household plenishing. But when the early settlers migrated to 
 the south of the mountain, we find no trace of these useful arti- 
 cles in their inventories. Their first town timepiece was a large 
 rock at Taylor's Notch, situated on the new road to the Sum- 
 mit House upon Mt. Holyoke. This boulder was close to the 
 ridge where lladley ends and South Hadley begins. In fair 
 weather the haymaker who thrust his pitchfork into the ground 
 knew that when its shadow pointed to Taylor's Eock the sun 
 must have jiist reached its meridian, and without the winding of 
 the dinner horn laid down his scythe. 
 
 The oldest clock in town was made with wooden wheels 
 and but one pointer, the hour hand. The space between the fig- 
 ures on the dial was divided into quarters, so that one could 
 iearn from its face the approximate time. It had no case, but 
 was intended to be hung upon the wall. 
 
 It was not until after Shays' Rebellion that the old "Grand- 
 father's Clock" appeared. This also was destitute of cover- 
 ing, and its works were nailed to the wall. One of the first 
 of these was purchased by Gardner Preston, Senior, and he 
 determined that his clock should liave a case. He accordingly 
 carried the works to Auraunah Collins, who lived in Fall 
 Woods, offering to give him a cow if the latter would make a 
 cherry case. Runy did so, and it was so handsomely carved 
 by hand that Mr. Preston gave him "the best cow in his barn."^ 
 
 About 1800 a town clock was installed, the payment for 
 
180 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 which did not appear to be forthcoming. Two years later 
 someone devised a plan by which this expense could be met. 
 College street had been laid out ten rods wide, and it had been 
 the custom to build houses with the front doorstep lying exactly 
 upon the edge of the highway. But it was now the fashion to 
 have a yard in front of the dwelling, so a strip of land was sold 
 upon each side of the street, wide enough for a pretty lawn, 
 and the clock was paid for. On Woodbridge street a strip 
 thirty-three feet wide was sold from the eastern side of the 
 highway, while the western was left as before. 
 
 The early part of the nineteenth century was a period of 
 transition. There were changes in dress, a fleeting glimpse of 
 which is given in a brief extract from an old letter of a South 
 Hadley girl, dated January 29, 1806. 
 
 "The dresses here are for the outside Pelisses, Shag Bon- 
 nets, and Woolen Tippets. The most fashionable color for the 
 latter is scarlet. They are made of common stocking yarn, net- 
 ted like the trimming of your white cloak, about a quarter of a 
 yard broad, and a yard and a half long ; they look a little like a 
 skein of yarn tied around the neck. 
 
 "Ornamental hair combs are also fashionable. They have 
 them from seven to ten dollars apiece. ' ' 
 
 A most welcome change in dress occurred here about 1800. 
 It was the introduction of what were called "Top Boots." The 
 stout buckle shoes then in common use had proven to be an 
 insufficient protection while wading through wintry snows, and 
 most of the yeomanry had provided themselves with leggings 
 made of deerskin. But gentlemen like Colonel "Woodbridge, 
 who reveled in white silk stockings, needed, as they walked or 
 rode on our sandy streets, some kind of covering as a protec- 
 tion against dust and rain. These coverings were called ' ' spat- 
 terdashes," and in summertime were usually made of white 
 linen, being fastened under the foot and extending upward 
 nearly to the knee, and sometimes beyond it. In the winter they 
 were generally made of broadcloth, and often handsomely em- 
 broidered. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION 181 
 
 The coining of the boot sounded the death knell of the 
 smallclothes, which now gave way to the pantaloon. 
 
 Though this town had sent more than its quota of soldiers 
 during the Eevolution, it wholly disapproved of the War of 1812. 
 A meeting was called and delegates sent to Northampton with 
 instructions to oppose to the uttermost what they deemed a 
 needless warfare. 
 
 At the breaking out of the Civil War, however, the patriot- 
 ism of the town was unquestioned. Many of our finest young 
 men enlisted, encouraged thereto by the inspiring woi'ds of Mr. 
 G. Morgan Smith. 
 
 Although debarred from personal service in the army by 
 reason of lameness, he did most effective work in the securing 
 of volunteers. 
 
 One incident of these times appears to have escaped the 
 notice of historians. About the time that the term "Copper- 
 head" began to be applied to Southern sympathizers, a Mr. 
 Henry rented the house now owned by Mrs. Thomas White. 
 From the beginning it was said there was something mysterious 
 connected with his coming. He lived alone and his food was sent 
 in from outside. Callers were rarely invited to enter the house. 
 He wrote and received an astonishing number of letters, his daily 
 mail being greater than that of any other person in South Had- 
 ley. In the barn were stored several heavy boxes, the covers 
 of which were carefully nailed down. A story was started that 
 the boxes contained munitions of war awaiting shipment to the 
 Confederacy. The excitement increased day by day, until the 
 more impulsive among the villagers determined to mob him. 
 The appointed evening found his yard filled with angry, clam- 
 orous men. Then Mr. Emerson Bates, with two others of a like 
 rare courage, placed themselves in front of the doorway. "You 
 will reach this man only over our dead bodies!" they said, 
 firmly. At this moment the door opened and Mr. Henry ap- 
 peared. "Walk in, gentlemen," he said blandly. "What is it 
 that you wish to say to me?" 
 
 In some confusion they stammered their desire to examine 
 the boxes. "Certainly," he said, "let hammers and chisels be 
 
183 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 brought at once." With these they proceeded to the harn, and 
 began to unpack the boxes. They found them filled to the very 
 bottom with scientific books, many of them being works relating 
 to chess. Then they adjourned to the house, where Mr. Henry 
 invited them to examine his daily mail. This revealed the fact 
 that by means of letters he was conducting games of chess with 
 other experts all over the country, and thus the mystery was 
 solved. 
 
 Until after the country had gained its independence. South 
 Hadley had but small opportunity for intellectual growth. It is 
 stated that in 1783 there was not a public library in the whole 
 United States, nor a permanent newspaper published in Western 
 Massachusetts. The establishment of the Hampshire Gazette in 
 Northampton three years later gave a new impulse to the dif- 
 fusion of intelligence in this section. Our town having no postal 
 service, a horseman went through the principal streets, his sad- 
 dle bags filled with Gazettes. His coming was announced by 
 ringing a bell in front of every house, when some member of the 
 family was expected to go out and receive the paper. In 1802 
 Oliver Taylor distributed newspapers in the southern part of 
 the town, while one of the Lymans usually covered the northern 
 route. 
 
 Ours was certainly one of the banner towns in the establish- 
 ment of libraries. In 1802 was commenced "Ye Social Library 
 of South Hadley." This organization was kept up for forty 
 years. In the beginning several Granby families, including the 
 Smiths, joined in the enterprise. A meeting of the association 
 was held once in three months : upon the third Tuesday in March, 
 June, September, and December, at ' ' Three of the clock. ' ' The 
 last meeting of the year was, on account of the short days, to be 
 at "One of the clock." A few of the titles will give some idea 
 of the class of reading. 
 
 No. 68 was fifty-four sermons bound together. 
 
 No. 101— Seneca 's Writings. 
 
 No. 113 — Sermons preached after the Eevolution, one of 
 them being delivered July 29, 1784, on "Thanksgiving Day, at 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION 183 
 
 the close of the American War," from the text — "Many times 
 did he deliver them. ' ' 
 
 No. 145 — Military Journal of the Revolution. 
 No. 57 — Volume of Sermons. 
 No. 227— View of the World. 
 
 We find among the old books a collection of Hymns written 
 in 1759, during the French and Indian War. We cull a single 
 stanza : 
 
 "Deserter, to the camp return, 
 Resume your former post, 
 Bewail your crime, your baseness mourn. 
 For yet you are not lost." 
 
 The book was republished nine times, and the tenth edition, 
 printed after we had won our independence, bore upon its title 
 page this exultant verse of Scripture: "Oh, sing unto the Lord 
 a new song His right hand and His holy arm hath got- 
 ten Him the \dctory." 
 
 During the first twenty years this society appears to have 
 sold at intervals one hundred and eighty volumes, which led 
 to a renumbering. The library was kept at the house of Mr. 
 Jonathan Burnett, this being a convenient place for Falls Woods 
 people; and here, as one of its patrons expressed it, 
 
 "Four times each year these savants met 
 And drew their treasures from the shelves : 
 Auctioned the books that each might get 
 His rights; and all might suit themselves." 
 
 The auctioning was not a sale of books, but he who bid high- 
 est upon any given volume could have the first loan of it. 
 Weem's Life of Washington was the leading favorite, followed 
 by the Biographies by Jared Sparks, Baxter's Saints Rest, Bun- 
 yan's Pilgrim's Progress, and a multitude of Missionary Her- 
 alds kept up the religious tone of the association. 
 
 Next in succession came the "Publick Libra," of which num- 
 ber 202 was published in 1812, and was entitled "A Treatise of 
 Religious Experiences." 
 
 The "Smith Library Association" was here in 1840. Books 
 
18-1 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 were taken out on the first Saturday of eaeli month, between the 
 hours of two and four o'clock. It was considerately added, 
 "Books may be drawn at any other time by paying to the libra- 
 rian one cent for each volume." This was in District Number 
 One. 
 
 Time would fail to describe all of our libraries, including 
 the Farmers, the Atheneum, and the Agricultural, most of whose 
 books were destroyed b^^ the burning of our fourth church, they 
 having been stored in its basement. 
 
 The Sabbath School Library, established in 1826, has been 
 previously alluded to. 
 
 Perhaps these helps toward a broader charity came at just 
 the right moment. In 1802 the constable had been ordered to 
 warn eight people, with "Their children and others under their 
 care," to leave South Hadley within fifteen days, they having 
 settled here without first obtaining the consent of the inhabit- 
 ants. This was done in order to prevent their becoming a charge 
 upon the town. 
 
 Yet, if any of its own citizens, through sickness or some 
 other misfortune, had become destitute, both church and town 
 showed a generous sympathy. In the note book of an old deacon, 
 we find these entries : 
 
 "Minutes of the committee meeting of South Hadley 
 Church. Voted to send Abigail a quart of wine on Communion 
 Sunday, May 1st." 
 
 "Voted to send Abigail a pint and a half of wine next Com- 
 munion Day, July third. ' ' 
 
 "Abigail" was a chronic invalid, unable to attend divine 
 service and with but a scanty pittance of her own. The minister 
 was expected to take one of the deacons with him and occasion 
 ally administer the sacrament of the Lord 's Supper at her bed- 
 side. There were other quaint entries : 
 
 ' ' To-day Enos Woodbridge forgot to bring his ninepence to 
 church; Josiah Snow paid it, and he is to pay Josiah Snow's at 
 the next contribution." 
 
 The case of Anne Hillyer would surprise a present-day over- 
 seer of the poor. Her grandfather, Timothy Hillyer, had been 
 
SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REYOLrTIOX l.So 
 
 one of the early settlers and had built a small, three-roomed 
 house a few rods east of the present residence of A. P. KjoUer. 
 He was a warm friend of Rev. Grindall Eawson, and when the 
 latter was forcibly dismissed, showed his disapproval by absent- 
 ing himself from communion for more than a year. His de- 
 scendants were poor, and seventy years later the house began to 
 show signs of decay. In 1807 the town sent its selectmen and 
 assessors to examine the house, "And if they find it not worth 
 repairing, they are empowered to build a new one in the same 
 place." It was put into such good order that it lasted thirty 
 years longer. Then David, the last of the Hillyers, took his own 
 life, and the house was torn down by David Chandler, who in- 
 herited the place by will, the town making no claim for past ex- 
 penses. 
 
 After the Revolution came the fashion of giving children 
 what was called a double Christian name. Before that we had 
 Comfort Smith, Bitterne Selden, Ivory Witt, Cotton White, Pre- 
 served Wood, Aristobolus Lyman, and Resolve Tuller, all these 
 being men. 
 
 Of girls there were Philopheta Ferry, Esmereniana Preston, 
 Sapplina Judd, Comfort Domo, and Spiddy Ferry. But during 
 the Nineteenth Centurv, modern names were substituted. 
 
CHAPTER TEN 
 
 IN THE CHIMNEY CORNEB 
 
 A CENTURY ago, any South Hadley family who could 
 secure the services of Granny Murray for the week pre- 
 ceding Thanksgiving Day was accounted fortunate indeed. 
 She was received with as much state as if she were a duchess, 
 and the best seat in the chimney corner was reserved for her 
 during the long evenings. 
 
 The merely mechanical work of cookery was distasteful to 
 her, and the young folks were required to chop the meat and pare 
 the apples for the mince pies, and do what she termed the 
 drudgery. They found her a strict disciplinarian. If the youth 
 tired of the persistent chopping, and inquired in a plaintive tone 
 if it were not fine enough, a high-pitched, mocking voice was 
 sure to reply: "If you chop it too fine it will be rank pizen." 
 
 But when the day's work was ended and the household sat 
 'round the big fireplace. Granny Murray would tell stories of the 
 olden time, legends that sometimes held the children spell- 
 bound at their vivid recital. She could repeat to them the story 
 of the old witch who lived on the Belchertown Road. How one 
 day a man, against whom the witch held a grudge, was driving 
 to South Hadley with his ox-team. As he was nearing her house, 
 a green frog suddenly leaped upon the neap of his cart, and on 
 the instant the oxen stopped. Vainly the owner urged them on 
 with voice and whip; they remained immovable. Suddenly 
 alighting, he struck the frog a swift blow across the mouth, 
 !when it disappeared, and the team jogged along as before. 
 Soon they passed the house of the witch, who stood at the well, 
 washing a bloody mark from lier face. "I was climbing the 
 fence, and I fell otf," she exclaimed, but he knew now from 
 whence came the green frog. 
 
 There were stories about Enos Woodbridge, a son of the 
 town's second minister. His baptismal name was Aeneas, and 
 some of his oddities of speech were recorded in Holland's His- 
 
IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 187 
 
 tory of Western Massachusetts. "Uncle Enos," as he was fa- 
 miliarly called, had heen a shrewd lad, kindly disposed, but 
 sensitive to an unusual degree. At one time his parents, sup- 
 posing that he was persisting in a falsehood, when he was actu- 
 ally telling the truth, administered a severe chastisement, and 
 it may be that in order to make the impression of his punish- 
 ment permanent, they followed the example of other South 
 Hadley families, and left the culprit for part of the day in the 
 garret, with a pitcher of water, a slice of bread, and the Bible, 
 Indding him read while there the future doom of the wicked. 
 From that day on the boy was changed. Only once again in his 
 life did he ever say ' ' yes " or " no. " " Pretty likely 'tis, " " Pret- 
 ty likely 'tisn't," were his favorite substitutes. But many stor- 
 ies were told about him in the chimney corner, for he lived to be 
 nearly eighty years old. One of the children's favorites was the 
 following : Uncle Enos was an expert swimmer, and very fond 
 of the water. He often strolled down to the canal village, and 
 was alwaj's ready to lend a hand, if needed, in order to man a 
 boat. One day after the fishing season was over, and the beach 
 nearly deserted, some young men who saw him coming down the 
 road agreed to play a trick upon him. Taking him into their 
 boat they went a short distance upstream, and then informed 
 him that unless he would say "yes" or "no," they were going 
 to throw him overboard. When asked if he would promise to do 
 this, he gave his tormentors to understand that it was pretty 
 likely he would not. They lifted liim up and threatened to toss 
 him into the swirling waters. He maintained a stubborn silence. 
 "Say yes or no," they repeated, and receiving no reply they 
 threw him into the river. Then they waited for him to rise to 
 the surface, when they intended to take him into the boat, if he 
 complied with their demand. But though they waited long, they 
 saw no signs of his reappearance. At last, in some trepidation, 
 they called his name, telling him they were only joking and en- 
 treating him to return. Finally they became alarmed lest he had 
 been seized with cramp; they tried to examine the bed of the 
 river, but the turbid waters made the attempt useless. At length, 
 with blanched faces and quivering lips, they went back to the 
 
188 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 boat-house. Meanwhile a most unusual thing had taken place, 
 the gentle Enos had lost his temper, and, as he plunged into the 
 water, determined to give his assailants the punishment that he 
 felt they deserved. According to the printed statements of 
 former years, he had been known to swim under water half way 
 across the river. He now swam rapidly till he had reached ane 
 of the artificial islands that had been made in the river in order 
 to be used as fishing wharves. Climbing up through the dwarf 
 willows and coarse sedge, he concealed himself, peering through 
 the bushes at his late companions. He heard their entreating 
 cries for him to return, but remained in hiding till they were out 
 of sight on their way to the landing. Then he swam to the shore 
 and began his wet walk uptown. Near the brickyard he passed 
 the tavern kept by the Widow Mary Pomeroy, and seeing the 
 horse of his brother, Colonel Buggies Woodbridge, fastened in 
 the yard, he turned and stole around to the kitchen door. The 
 widow immediately ushered him into a small room, and after a 
 brief search returned with a handful of towels and a suit of 
 clothes which had belonged to her late husband. Major Pomeroy ; 
 this she bade him wear while his own dripping garments were 
 hung to dry in front of the kitchen fireplace. Hardly had the 
 change been effected, when his late companions were seen com- 
 ing slowly up the road. They, too, had observed the horse of 
 Colonel "Woodbridge, and approaching the front door, asked to 
 see him. Enos again retired into the little room, and his brother, 
 ha^^ng previously heard the whole story, met them in the hall, 
 determined to give them a lesson they would never forget. They 
 knew that in those times the death penalty awaited murderers, 
 and there were few of the modern methods of evading it. Trem- 
 bling in every limb, the young men confessed their guilt and 
 begged for clemency. But their eyes quailed before the stern 
 glance of Colonel Woodbridge, as he answered, "The law must 
 take its course. My brother was an inoffensive man, who had 
 never harmed you, and it is clearly my duty to deliver you up 
 to the officers of justice." Their prayers and protestations that 
 they were only in fun melted the kind heart of Uncle Enos. The 
 door of the little room had been left ajar. It was now pushed 
 
IN THE CHIMNEY COENER 189 
 
 open, and a familiar voice said: "Pi-etty likely somebody '11 
 stretch a rope. ' ' The repentant young men said afterward that 
 "Pretty likely" were the sweetest words they ever heard, and 
 thenceforth treated him with grateful respect. 
 
 A new generation, however, arose who showed him less 
 consideration. His evenings were generally spent at the tavern 
 of Deacon Joseph White, this being the usual rallying point for 
 those who, like Enos, were good church members. Moreover, he 
 and Jack White were inseparable friends. One day the latter 
 came to him saying that a party of travelers had just engaged 
 lodging for the night. Some of the youths who had annoyed 
 Enos laid a wager with the guests that they would bring in a man 
 who could be neither bribed, coaxed, nor forced into saying 
 either ' ' yes " or " no. ' ' The stakes had been placed in competent 
 hands. "And now. Uncle Enos, "continued Jack, "you can get 
 even with those young men by just this once saying "yes" and 
 "no" in answer to their questions, and if they lose their 
 money, they will perhaps in future let you alone." The event 
 justified this prediction, and the discomfited young folks after- 
 wards gave Enos a wide berth. 
 
 Our town has its "Dolly Woodbridge Chapter of the Daugh- 
 ters of the American Revolution," and the name keeps in mind 
 one who was for many years a leading lady in this place. Little 
 Dorothy, always known as Dolly, was born May 2, 17G3, just 
 at the close of a long and desolate French and Indian war, in 
 which her father. Lieutenant John Woodbridge, had spent years 
 of active service. He was the tenth of that name in direct suc- 
 cession, but the nine who preceded him had all been ministers 
 of the Gospel, and he would doubtless have followed their ex- 
 ample had not the exegencies of the war called him into the 
 field. His was a true patriotism ; for he entered the lowest rank 
 of the soldiery; but his ability and worth were soon apparent, 
 and his promotion rapid, eventually reaching the position of 
 major. 
 
 After the completion of the town's second meeting house, 
 he appears to have purchased the old one, which he moved a 
 short distance to the north, and turned at right angles to its 
 
190 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 former position. As the meeting house had never had a chimney, 
 the removal was accomplished with little difficulty, and the street 
 had been laid out of such great width that the site of Judson 
 Hall was then a part of the highway. The building was re- 
 modeled, and its two tenements were occupied, one by Lieutenant 
 Woodbridge and the other by John Chandler. Here little Dolly 
 was born; but her father soon sold the dwelling and moved to 
 the Rawson parsonage, where he spent the next nineteen years. 
 At his death, Dolly, now a young woman nearly twenty years 
 of age, seems to have taken into her special love and care her 
 little seven-year-old brother, named Benjamin Ruggles in honor 
 of her imcle, Coloned Woodbridge. He became a minister, but 
 at the last came back to South Hadley, where he died at nearly 
 the same time as his sister Dolly. There was a double funeral, 
 and brother and sister were buried side by side in one wide 
 grave. Dolly Woodbridge certainly combined in herself the 
 leading traits of her ancestors. The patrician pride of the Earl 
 of Dudley reappeared in her delicate gowns, for she was in 
 summertime constantly habited in white when she entered the 
 big square pew on the minister's right hand on Sunday morn- 
 ings. And her dress was edged at the neck and wrists with fine 
 embroidery, or feathery lace, all the work of her own hands. 
 Her bonnet, a Dunstable straw, and still preserved in the histori- 
 cal room, was also trimmed with white, and in very warm 
 weather she changed her dress during the noon intermission, 
 appearing at the aftei-noon service in dainty, fresh attire. ' ' She 
 was aristocratic to the very tips of her fingers," said an old 
 person in describing her, "but she was never haughty and rejiel- 
 lent in her manners, and was always kind to the poor. She had 
 all the dignity of her grandfather, the minister, and was never 
 known to exhibit any signs of ill temper. ' ' She was a descendant 
 of the famous Jolm Elliott, and had inherited the same earnest 
 spirit of religious devotion. No storm kept her from her place 
 in the sanctuary. "The ministe?*, the deacon, and Dolly Wood- 
 bridge are sure to be at church," was a common remark. She 
 was not addicted to housework, and her fair, white hands and 
 
IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 191 
 
 good eyesight enabled her to do fine needlework even to extreme 
 old age. She died in May, 1844. 
 
 About ten years before this event a strange episode had 
 taken place in the religious life of the communitj'. Mormonism 
 had sent some of its advance guard to South Hadley, with an 
 evident intention of proselyting the inhabitants of the town. 
 They did not call themselves Mormons, but Perfectionists, claim- 
 ing that they had attained sinless perfection. They did not 
 openly avow the doctrine of polygamy, but were believed to 
 practice it. They baptized only in the name of Jesus, the rest 
 of the Trinity being rarely spoken of in their meetings. The 
 large woman who led the singing was named Polly, and was 
 known in town as Polly Jesus. Their preacher was accused by 
 our own church of being an excommunicated minister from a 
 Congregational pastorate. 
 
 In 1818, Israel Lyman had built a brick house near Rock 
 Ferry, and its kitchen furnished a commodious place for the 
 Sunday services of the Mormonites, who soon gathered adher- 
 ents all the way from South Hadley Falls to Hockanum. A 
 prayer meeting was held one afternoon in each week, and did 
 much toward spreading their influence in this vicinity. 
 
 From the late R. O. Dwight's account of their Sabbath Day 
 services, we quote the following: "The large room, on week 
 days a kitchen, was now arranged with rows of chairs on three 
 sides, leaving a large space vacant in the center." .... 
 "There was the brooding stillness of a Quaker meeting. At last 
 the very large woman arose, stepped into the vacant space 
 and began a solemn march. Others joined in the silent prome- 
 nade around the floor until all who felt moved to take part had 
 done so. Then the men and women formed lines facing one an- 
 other, and in Shaker style began a shuffling dance toward each 
 other, singing, imder lead of the large woman's clear and power- 
 ful voice, strange psalms to stirring tunes. Gradually the dance 
 grew faster, forward and then back again, and the singing 
 louder, until those who came to look on were drawn by the ex- 
 citing scenes to join this strange people, and dance and sing 
 with the best of them. This performance was continued so long 
 
193 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 as strength and breath remained, and then the Mormon meeting 
 abruptly ended." 
 
 As this sect gained in numbers, it was proposed that a 
 church should be formed and a building erected for public wor- 
 ship. Subscriptions were solicited and obtained for the further- 
 ance of this plan. Upon this our own church became alive to its 
 responsibilities. Eev. Mr. Boies, assisted by Eev. B. R. Wood- 
 bridge (the brother of Dolly Woodbridge) engaged in an active 
 campaign against Mormonism. Eight members of our church 
 were excommunicated, and others were persuaded to forsake 
 the new sect. The Perfectionist leaders, and a part of their dis- 
 ciples, left town. One of tlie latter returned, saying that she had 
 received a revelation directing her to go home. She married 
 happily, and in her old age used to say that she had never re- 
 gretted coming back. 
 
 Later on others were excommunicated from our church on 
 account of their change in religious belief, and for persistently 
 absenting themselves from communion. 
 
 A spirited warfare of words was carried on, an example of 
 which is subjoined. 
 
 In his letter, Rev. Mr. Boies accuses the Mormonites of re- 
 viling their fellow church members, and calling them ' ' Children 
 of the Devil," also of despising the House of God, denying the 
 Sabbath to be Holy time, and pretending to be endowed with the 
 power of working miracles. He denounces their belief as "The 
 doctrines of the devil," and concludes his letter in these words: 
 "Think, oh, think of the dreadful apostasy you have commenced! 
 But should you disregard this friendly admonition the church 
 has but one duty to perform, awful as it is. It is to cut you off 
 from the congregation of the Lord, and leave you in the hand of 
 that God whom you have deeply dishonored, and before whom 
 you must soon stand to answer for the deeds done here in the 
 body. In behalf of the Church, A. Boies, Pastor." 
 
 In reply to this letter Miss A. wrote back: "You say 
 
 you have one more duty to perform, 'awful as it is,' that is, to 
 cut us off. It is not at all awful to us. I cut myself off months 
 ago, and have no longer any fellowship with the imf ruitful works 
 
IN THE CHIMNEY CORNET? 193 
 
 of darkness. And if I must tell you the truth, I care nothing 
 what steps you take, for I feel the fire of God's love burning in 
 my soul, while writing Glory ! Glory ! ! Wlien I turn my eyes 
 towards you, it looks like midnight darkness, while the candle 
 of the Lord shines upon ms." 
 
 Hardly had the Mormon heresies ceased to disturb, when 
 a new cause of disquietude arose. The Millerites, in order to 
 disseminate their principles, were holding meetings all over the 
 country. Their leader, after careful study of the Old Testa- 
 ment prophesies, believed that the time for their fulfillment had 
 arrived, and that the end of the world was near. There is 
 still preserved in town one of the tiny slips of paper distributed 
 here at that time. Upon it is printed this inscription : 
 
 "How long shall be the vision? Unto 2,300 days. Then 
 shall the sanctuary be cleansed. * * * Dan. VIII 13, 14. 
 Began B. C. 457, ends in 1843." 
 
 In a private journal, one of our citizens thus records his 
 own experiences: 
 
 "In 1843 began the great Millerite excitement. Every- 
 body was talking about the destruction of the world which Wil- 
 liam Miller was predicting would happen that year. This beau- 
 tiful world was surely going to be burned up, and the Judgment 
 Day would soon be here. Miller was going to preach at Chicopee 
 Falls, and I, with other South Hadley people, went down to 
 hear him. He preached in a large tent, which was full of hear- 
 ers, and as it was a hot day, he preached in his shirt sleeves. He 
 was a lai"ge, stout man, and of course felt the heat. I do not 
 remember many particulars of his discourse, but it was excit- 
 ing. 'Many believed on him there.' A collection was taken to 
 pay expenses, and 'for the good of the cause.' People were 
 urged to give something if they had no money — I saw rings, 
 earrings, and other articles contributed. Before the meeting 
 groups of men could be seen discussing the subject, quoting from 
 the Bible, and scaring us youngsters. All that year and after- 
 wards, I could not see the sky red without fearing the end of 
 the world was at hand. Once I drove two seminary girls to 
 visit in Brimfield. When we reached Ludlow, it was red in the 
 
194 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 south, and a shower came up, and, oh ! how frightened we were. 
 We stopped at a farm house and begged to be allowed to stay 
 over night. The next morning we started early; the clouds in 
 the east were red- and my scare continued. The girls were older 
 than I and probably had a little more sense. We arrived safely 
 at Brimfield, stayed a day or two, and got back to South Had- 
 ley, with the world still on top." * * * The record closes 
 with these words: "They had been taught by the Bible and 
 the preachers that the world was surely going to be burned up 
 sometime, and they did not know but it might be then. It is not 
 strange that some ceased trying to lay up treasures on earth, 
 stopped sowing and reaping, gave their lands away, and made 
 their ascension robes." 
 
 The events referred to in the last paragraph made some 
 changes in the town. Several of its citizens, in order to prove 
 the sincerity of their belief in Millerism, sold their farms for a 
 few dollars, and were afterwards compelled to become day labor- 
 ers in order to support themselves and their families. Finally 
 a part of them went West, where it was said land was so cheap 
 it was almost to be had for the asking, and they thus succeeded 
 in retrieving their fortunes. 
 
 During the summer of 1843, whenever the setting sun went 
 down in a flood of crimson light, people were wont to assemble in 
 the Old Cemetery, with the thought that they would be found 
 upon consecrated ground. Some brought their ascension robes 
 with them. These were usually white, and were made long like 
 a riding skirt. One South Hadley girl confided to her school- 
 mates the fact that, unknown to her mother, she had run a gath- 
 ering string through the hem of her ascension robe, so that when 
 she was taken up through the air she could draw it closely be- 
 neath her feet. 
 
 Evening meetings for prayer and discussion of the sub- 
 ject were held from house to house, though the prank of two 
 mischievous boys made a slight interruption. One of the breth- 
 ren usually had much to say about Gabriel's trumpet which 
 would announce the dissolution of all things. One night a 
 roguish boy climbed to the apex of the roof, and standing close 
 
IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 19o 
 
 to the chimney of the house where the meeting was to be held, 
 stood waiting ready to blow a tin horn when the signal should 
 be given. Round his wrist was tied one end of a long cord, the 
 other end being in the hand of his accomplice, who lurked below. 
 After a time, nothing having been said in regard to the Angel 
 Gabriel, one man, in loud exhortation, told his auditors that 
 "The end of the world draweth nigh." An instant after the 
 blast of the horn was heard, and the men sprang to their feet, 
 while the women screamed. In the confusion that ensued the 
 boys escaped without discover)'. 
 
 The influence of this doctrine remained in town for years. 
 Clouds flaming with scarlet hues would send the frightened 
 children home from berrying excursions. But after a time 
 tranquillity was again restored, and matters went on in the old 
 way. 
 
 In 1825 the old soldiers of the Revolution (many of whom 
 still remembered the battle of Bunker Hill) were made thrice 
 welcome in every chimney corner. For the Marquis de Lafay- 
 ette, who was then on a visit to this country, had been invited 
 to lay the cornerstone of the monument which now marks the 
 site of that memorable battle. 
 
 It was learned that the French General, on his way from 
 Albany to Boston, would pass through Northampton and South 
 Hadley. His progress through the state was a triumphal march, 
 towns and cities vying with each other in the splendor of their 
 ovations. No courier having been sent in advance to announce 
 his coming, there was in South Hadley but brief time for prepa- 
 ration. It was known that in order to reach Boston on the 16th 
 of June, he must be in Belchertown by the evening of the 14th. 
 Therefore everyone knew that on Tuesday, at the latest, the 
 Friend of America would honor this town by passing through it. 
 Yoimg and old were up at dawn, luncheon baskets were packed, 
 flower beds despoiled of their choicest treasures, and the ad- 
 dress of welcome prepared for the occasion was rehearsed for 
 the last time. Before noon a motley procession was en route for 
 Rock Ferry. In the van were ox carts with layers of clean straw, 
 upon which the children were huddled, while the father and 
 
inn IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 mother were enthroned upon the driver's seat. At intervals 
 came the long farm wagon, drawn by a span of horses, and 
 filled with young people, who flaunted showy banners of wel- 
 come. The elite of the town started a little later in their chaises 
 and high-topped narrow carriages, one of which had formerly 
 belonged to a Governor of Massachusetts. 
 
 Four years earlier the men of this vicinity had determined 
 that a house should be placed on the summit of Mt. Holyoke, 
 and for this purpose they planned to have a Building Bee on 
 the anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill. In 1821, the 17th 
 of June came on Sunday, and they were accordingly obliged to 
 postpone the matter until the following day. On Monday morn- 
 ing, therefore, they appeared with boards, nails- and the neces- 
 sary tools. The corner posts and larger timbers of the house 
 were then cut down and hewn near the site previously selected. 
 This first house could be approached only by persons on horse- 
 back or on foot. The horses trained to mountain, climbing could 
 thread the narrow pathway as far as the last steep ascent. From 
 here people must pull themselves up by catching hold of the 
 branches of trees, or the young saplings that bordered the path. 
 It was decided to escort Lafayette to the Mountain House, in 
 order to show him the beautiful valley of the Connecticut, which 
 lay like a panorama below. Mrs. Abby Wright Allen of South 
 Hadley had written seven verses commencing: 
 "Great Friend of Mankind, 
 Honored Guest of the Nation," 
 and this poem was to be recited by a number of little boys while 
 the General partook of refreshments. He could choose from the 
 following list: 
 
 'Choice Jamaica Spirits. 
 
 "St. Croix Rum. 
 
 "Cogniac Brandy. 
 
 "Holland Gin. 
 
 "Cherry Rum. 
 
 "Brandy. 
 
 "Spanish Segars, with other refreshments generally de- 
 sired." 
 
.r..,:.,^^»m^,t,»^ 
 
 ■Tui'; oi,i) si.KKiir 
 
IX THE CHIMNEY CORNER 197 
 
 At two o'clock in the afternoon Lafayette left Northampton 
 attended by a military escort from that place. Reaching the 
 Connecticut River, he crossed at Rock Ferry, and when his car- 
 riage drove from the boat he found the townspeople waiting to 
 strew flowers along his pathway. They saw before them a pair 
 of eloquent brown eyes, that seemed to look you through and 
 through, while above them was not the silvery locks of old age, 
 l)ut a wig of dark hair. His long and slender hands were still 
 delicate, though his face was that of a man in health and 
 strength. The grace and courtesy of his manners while bowing 
 from right to left, as the carriage passed, won for him a lasting 
 place in the memory of those who saw him. 
 
 At the turn of the road a committee of reception were watch- 
 ing his approach in order to extend to him an invitation to visit 
 tlie mountain. But it was now nearly the middle of the after- 
 noon, and young girls dressed in white were already lined up 
 on the Belchertown Common awaiting his arrival ; there was no 
 time left for even a short excursion. 
 
 An eye witness in describing the scene ended with the sor- 
 rowful words: "The General's carriage turned south and was 
 soon lost to view." 
 
 For many years after this all needful supplies for the little 
 Mountain House were conveyed up the narrow bridle path by a 
 single horse. The water was brought up in India rubber sacks, 
 each one holding five gallons ; these were placed in canvas pan- 
 niers and fastened across the back of the horse. In 1851 a wagon 
 road was constructed up to the summit and a new two-story 
 house erected a little north of the former one. The timbers for 
 this building were drawn up by teams, and it sometimes needed 
 two yoke of oxen and a pair of stout horses in order to carry a 
 load lip the steep pitches. Three years later a single track 
 railroad was built up the last ascent; it had a "length of 600 
 feet and a rise of 365." The car used on this track was made 
 from the bodies of two sleighs, fitted together to form its main 
 part. ' ' This was propped up in a horizontal position at an angle 
 to the car truck, which ran parallel to the rails. A single rope 
 was attached to the upper end, and a horse beneath the house 
 
198 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 furnished the motive power." As this was a new idea (being 
 probably the first railway of its kind in the world), there were 
 crowds of visitors, even from great distances. When the car 
 rolled up the steep ridge, not far from the summit, a view of 
 surpassing beauty met the eye. Finally "the car and its occu- 
 pants came up through an opening in the base of the Mountain 
 House and stopped just when the body of the old sleigh was 
 even with the floor." 
 
 Near the foot of Mount Holyoke, but a little farther south, 
 lay one of the town's first ferries, which was established by the 
 County Court in 1755. Its landing was close to the palisades in 
 Hockanum, and from this fact it derived its name "Rock 
 Ferry." J. G. Holland, who in his youth was for a time assist- 
 ant ferryman, has described the view from the summit of 
 Holyoke in these words : 
 "At my feet 
 
 The ferry boat, diminished to a toy. 
 
 With automatic diligence conveyed 
 
 Its puppet passengers between the shores 
 
 That hemmed its enterprise; and one low barge 
 
 With white, square sail, bore northward languidly, 
 
 The slow and scanty commerce of the stream." 
 
 A. M. Lyman, a grandson of Israel Lyman, the ferryman, 
 states in his letter that the latter "carried on quite a business 
 in connection with a large farm, including the running of the 
 ferry, a broom and shoe shop, tannery, still, etc. Situated be- 
 side the river were about forty acres of fine meadow land, which 
 has since been washed away. The road from Rock Ferry to 
 Hockanum was called Gate Hill. In old times there was a fence 
 on the town line in order to keep the cattle, that everyone in 
 Hadley turned loose to pasture, from straying over the line. A 
 gate was kept near the Hockanum burying ground, and every- 
 one that passed that way must open and close it. On Sundays 
 and holidays, boys tended this gate." 
 
 Across the present highway there existed at this time a 
 barrier of rocks called the mountain wall, which made even a 
 

 ^ 
 
 
 ;^^Hj 
 
 ^P^ 
 
 .:-:^^m 
 
 PASS HF TlllOli.NK il'YI.Ah; 
 
 ■I' III: I'KANK'I.IX S'lN >\l': 
 
IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 199 
 
 rude cart track impossible. The road was thus compelled to 
 make a wide circuit, running northwest of Eugene Lyman's 
 house. Israel Ljnnan determined to remedy this evil. The let- 
 ter continues: "Grandfather and his boys, with the help of 
 the neighbors, cut the road through the rocks. It was done for 
 the most part by building fires upon the surface of the rock, and 
 when well heated, pouring on cold water, thus taking off a little 
 at a time." This opening, then wide enough for a wagon to pass 
 through, was a favorite resort of the seminary girls, who named 
 it the Pass of Thermopylae. It was then described as having 
 "a high rock ledge on one side, and a good-sized cliff on the 
 other." But our town fathers have long ago sacrificed beauty 
 to utility; djTiamite and blasting powder have done their work 
 well, and now only memory or a vivid imagination can replace 
 the former romantic grandeur of the spot. 
 
 In the front rank of those who climbed Mt. Holyoke on the 
 day when General Lafayette passed through South Hadley was 
 doubtless the President of the Lazy Men's Court. This was a 
 society which had its beginning on Hadley street, then known 
 only as "Lubber's Hole." It was not the object of this organ- 
 ization to inculcate habits of industry, but quite the reverse. 
 All members who were guilty of any unnecessary exertion were 
 punished by fines, and each was expected to report any case of 
 this kind that might come under his own observation. A single 
 instance of the method of conducting their sessions will suffice. 
 One of the members was accused of having run violently down 
 the hill leading from the park to the house of Samuel Judd, now 
 owned by F. A. Loomer. The point of the story is lost in the 
 telling, for the steep pitch which at that time led from the vil- 
 lage is unrecognizable in the graded hill of to-day. After the 
 testimony of the witnesses had been taken, the judge asked the 
 offender in a stern voice what excuse he could offer why judg- 
 ment should not be pronounced against him. He replied that tlie 
 facts as stated were true, but he found it was harder to stop 
 than to keep on running, and so carried out the principles of the 
 society. His discharge was immediately ordered. The next 
 ■culprit, having attempted on a warm summer's day to jump 
 
200 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 across the brook near-by, missed the farther bank and fell back 
 into the water. When permitted by the judge to speak in his 
 own defense he asserted that he had broken none of the rules 
 of the order. "It was a sultry day and I wanted to sit in the 
 water in order to keep cool. It is my privilege to choose such a 
 place for myself if I find it contributes to my comfort, and no 
 man has a right to interfere." "True, true," murmured the 
 judge, "let his fine be remitted." 
 
 Aged people frowned upon these frivolities, and shook their 
 heads at the attempt to introduce the burning of charcoal as a 
 means of heating the South Hadley houses. They said it was 
 not much like the olden days ; then every week a horse dragged 
 into the kitchen a big backlog, so heavy that they could hardly 
 roll it into the fireplace. But the dear old grandmother, sitting 
 in the chimney corner, whispered softly to herself, "Old times 
 are always best." 
 
CHAPTER ELEVENTH 
 
 SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 
 
 HISTORIANS tell us that the first navigable canal iu the 
 United States was situated in that i^art of South Iladley 
 originally called Taylor's Field. It was begun during the 
 first decade after the Revolution, and soon impressed its name 
 upon the thriving little settlement at its base, which was for 
 nearly half a century known as the Canal Village. It was looked 
 upon as a wonder, being between two and three miles in length, 
 and a portion of it is still visible from the Head Road, a highway 
 so named because it skirted the head of the canal. 
 
 Visitors flocked from far and near to see this new method 
 of diverting a part of the river for the purpose of conveying 
 boats past the rapids. The well-to-do farmers came on horse- 
 back, their wives sitting on pillions behind them, while the poor 
 yeomanry rode in ox carts. At rare intervals a two-wheeled 
 chaise appeared, from which looked forth the serious face of 
 some neighboring minister, but the proudest equipage of all 
 was the long wagon with paneled sides, wherein the young peo- 
 ple disported themselves. It was called a Thoroughbrace, and 
 had no springs, the body being suspended by leather straps. 
 It jolted over the rough roads most unmercifully, but little cared 
 they. 
 
 All found it a most attractive spot. The towpath beside the 
 canal was fringed with lofty sycamores, and towering maples, 
 dotted here and there with hemlock green. Their lower branches 
 were festooned with sprays of wild clematis, and the clinging 
 tendrils of the frost grape. In every crevice where they could 
 find a foothold, red and yellow honeysuckles were nodding to 
 the ferns, while above them, later on, the bittersweet would do 
 its best to replace their lively hues. 
 
 It was easy work towing through the canal, requiring but 
 a single horse and its driver, while in order to bring boats up 
 the river from Willimansett to the foot of the South Hadley 
 Falls, it was necessary to use in addition several pairs of oxen. 
 
202 IX OI.D SOUTH ITADLEY 
 
 Freshets and other leveling processes of nature have al- 
 ready filled up a great part of the canal. 
 
 For more than half a century before the establishment of 
 this new waterway, boards, lumber, and sometimes produce, had 
 been brought down from Northampton and Hadley upon rafts, 
 or freight boats, and were landed at the mouth of Stony Brook. 
 From here they were carted across the fields to a point just be- 
 low the free bridge. 
 
 This trespass upon private lands aroused violent opposi- 
 tion on the part of the owners, who perhaps failed to consider 
 that if the circuitous highways already laid out were followed it 
 would lead them through South Iladley Center, thus more than 
 doubling the distance. From this cause arose the most bitter 
 animosities between neighbors. One of the first innkeepers in 
 Falls Woods, a bustling, energetic man, combined the three 
 offices of cai^tain, landlord and teamster. 
 
 One day in December, 1744, wishing to drive across the field 
 of an impetuous young man, who owned a large section of land 
 in this region, the Captain began taking down the fence in order 
 to obtain an entrance. This action being seen by the owner, 
 he was promptly ordered to desist. An exciting contest ensued, 
 a contest which was not wholly confined to words. The matter 
 was carried before the Church, the usual tribunal for adjusting 
 such cases. 
 
 Public opinion seemed to favor the land owner, and it was 
 expected that the Captain would make a public confession, but 
 nothing was farther from his intentions. He was recorded as 
 having been ' ' Guilty of a breach of gospel rule, in his violently 
 pulling down, or attempting to pull down, the fence in order 
 to force his way through with his team." 
 
 The matter was kept in abeyance until the following June, 
 when the Captain called an ex-parte council at his own exjDense. 
 The ministers came in the afternoon and were ready to begin 
 work at about six o 'clock the next morning. Notice of this meet- 
 ing had been given out on the previous Sabbath, and all mem- 
 bers of the church were invited to be present. This being the 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 203 
 
 very busiest season of the year, there was likely to be but a 
 meager attendance. 
 
 The shrewdness of the Captain was now made manifest, for 
 the famous Jonathan Edwards, of Northampton, was a member 
 of the council. He had always been a firm friend of the Rev. 
 Grindall Rawson, while the land owner was one of the young men 
 who about three years before had forcibly dragged our first min- 
 ister from his pulpit — possibly the celebrated divine was not al- 
 lowed to forget this fact, for certain it is that the verdict of the 
 council said decidedly that the church had no right to require a 
 public acknowledgment from the Captain. The church was 
 compelled to acquiesce in this decision. The Captain was once 
 more allowed to partake of the Lord's Supper, and afterwards 
 it was made one of our by-laws that "If anj' man communed 
 with another, knowing of unchristian conduct on his part, he 
 could not afterward complain of him. ' ' 
 
 Ten years later we find the Captain obtaining permission 
 by vote of the town to make an agreement "with several per- 
 sons to cross their lands with lumber in the Falls Field and 
 Taylor's Field." 
 
 Within a few years after these events South Hadley was 
 asked by some of the towns north of us to lay out a new road 
 through Falls Woods, but little attention was paid to this re- 
 quest. 
 
 In 1766 the selectmen offered to give William Taylor three 
 pounds if he would make and maintain a good cart bridge over 
 Buttery Brook, near its mouth, he agreeing to keep the same in 
 good repair for ten years. 
 
 It is claimed that North Main street was the first highway 
 laid out in that part of the town, and for nearly a century it 
 was known as the Carrying Way, because it was the one used 
 for the transportation of lumber. 
 
 In the early times the leading industry of South Hadley 
 Falls was the fisheries. Every spring thousands upon thousands 
 of shad, salmon and bass came up from the ocean and ascended 
 the Connecticut River, sometimes as far as Vermont. Shad were 
 at first so plentiful they were either sold at a cent apiece or 
 
204 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 thrown back into the river, and eating them was looked upon as 
 the badge of poverty. 
 
 An old gentleman once told the author that when he was a 
 boy his family used them as an article of food and sometimes 
 sent him out to catch them, but he was so much ashamed of his 
 errand that if he saw anyone coming he hid the shad among 
 the bushes. There was one place, however, where they were 
 most certainly welcome. 
 
 During the Eevolutionary "War our town sent to the army its 
 full quota of beef and pork, and we are told that during their 
 season himdreds of shad were barreled and forwarded to an 
 appreciative soldiery. 
 
 Salmon were looked upon as a more valuable species of 
 fish, and we find from the account book of one of our old school 
 teachers that in 1762 he paid for them at the rate of two pence 
 per poimd. 
 
 Since there was always a dearth of fresh meat in the sum- 
 mer time, every man was expected to have in his cellar one 
 barrel of salt pork, two of corned beef, and a keg of salt salmon. 
 
 The shad and salmon were caught in what were called sweep 
 nets, which often were three or four hundred feet in length. 
 These meshes were usually five inches square in order that the 
 small fishes might escape. The method of using this net is thus 
 described by an old fisherman: 
 
 "Swinging out from the bank in their boat, the four men 
 who drew the net went straight out for about twenty rods, 
 then turning almost at right angles they went down stream about 
 ten rods more, and then swung again toward shore. 
 
 "All this time the hurrying current was carrjang along the 
 net, and the fish, which had been seeking the upper waters of 
 the river, found themselves suddenly fenced in. Shouting to 
 the shoreman to keep his end of the net steady, the men in the 
 boat set toward the shore until the net took on the shape of the 
 letter 'U.' 
 
 "The men in their hurry to haul in jumped into the shal- 
 low water near the bank, and holding down the lead line as well 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 205 
 
 as they could, grasped the dripping network with its living 
 freight and pulled it ashore." 
 
 During the late springtime one of the favorite evening 
 amusements at the Canal Village was going eeling. The 
 lampreys came up the river with the salmon and shad, but they 
 could ascend the rapids more easily than other kinds of fish. 
 They would dart suddenly forward, then by means of their curi- 
 ously-shaped mouths and power of suction, attach themselves to 
 a rock, where they remained suspended until sufficiently rested 
 for a second effort. This process being several times repeated 
 brought them to the head of the falls. They were deemed mi- 
 welcome intruders, for their clinging mouths made them a men- 
 ace to other fishes larger than themselves. As an article of food 
 they were generally despised in South Hadley, though in towns 
 away from the river they were sometimes valued. 
 
 A brief description of one of these excursions through the 
 rapids at South Hadley Falls will perhaps give some idea of its 
 difficulties. Landlord Smith had offered to take one of his guests 
 eeling with him. 
 
 "All was ready at last and Smith, having placed his lan- 
 tern upon a box for a beacon, pushed off the boat. A sudden 
 curve of the river at this point formed quite an eddy, where 
 the still water contrasted strangely with the rushing current in 
 the channel. Into this current they pushed the boat, heading it 
 carefully up the stream and keeping as near the shore as pos- 
 sible. Then began the struggle. AVith poles in hand they stood 
 opposite one another, the landlord being on the river side, and 
 pushed with might and main. The noise of rushing water al- 
 lowed no conversation had the labor of poling given time, but 
 Davis now and then heard his companion shouting some unin- 
 telligible words of caution or encouragement. 
 
 "After a time they came under a steep bank which rose 
 fifteen or twenty feet from the water. Passing this in their 
 toilsome course, they reached at length a large rock which sloped 
 to the water's edge and glistened in the moonlight. Just north 
 of this rose another, higher and steeper, which projected into 
 
206 IN OLD SOUTH HADLF.Y 
 
 the river. The boat was pushed into the little eddy below this 
 rock and their goal was reached. 
 
 "The tavernkeeper having fastened the boat, said: 'There, 
 Mr. Davis, is what I call my pork barrel. The Simsbury and 
 Suffield folks swap pork even for them, barrel for barrel. If 
 you want to see something to surprise you, look here!' and he 
 pointed with proud satisfaction to the lower side of the rock. 
 Davis looked as desired, and at first could make nothing of the 
 strange spectacle. 
 
 "On the surface of the rock, along its whole circuit, brown 
 and white streamers, one or two feet in length, were fastened 
 by one end to the rock. Not one dozen nor dozens, but hun- 
 dreds of them, so thick together that no pressure could crowd 
 them closer. 
 
 "The tavernkeeper having enjoyed for a moment his guest's 
 astonishment, said, with proud significance, 'Them's lampers.' 
 'But what are they doing there?' asked Davis. 'Why, they are 
 laj^ng up for the night, gone to bed and asleep like other honest 
 folks. You see, they have been following the shad around all 
 day, sucking up the spawn where it is laid in the soft sand, and 
 at night they just catch hold of a rock and go to sleep ; this ap- 
 pears to be a favorite place for them.' 
 
 "By this time Smith had thrown ot¥ his coat, rolled up his 
 sleeves, and put on a pair of coarse mittens. Kneeling in the 
 bottom of the boat, he reached over both hands and, grasping an 
 eel in each, threw them behind him into the boat. * * * 
 
 "The boat having been loaded and loosened, was brought 
 close under the rock and the order given to push off. Davis' 
 vigorous push sent them well into the stream before the current 
 seized them. # * * gut the most skillful will sometimes 
 slip, and it is not therefore to be wondered at that when the 
 boat was swiftly approaching the head of the island nearest the 
 shore, as Mr. Smith stepped hastily to one side his foot slipped 
 and threw him into the river with his cargo in close company. 
 When, like an ancient river god, he had risen from his watery 
 bed, he found that he had been swept around immediately in 
 front of the fish house. His pole came thump against him, and, 
 
SOUTH HADLEY PALLS 207 
 
 with its assistance, he waded ashore. As he reached land he 
 saw Davis drawing the boat up on the beach, and made his way 
 through the coarse grass and willows to the spot." 
 
 The lampreys continued to reach the upper level above 
 the falls until about the middle of the last century. Being such 
 expert climbers, they were able to ascend the new fishway, a 
 feat impossible for shad, as was discovered later on. 
 
 As late as 1848, parties of men from Connecticut came an- 
 nually to the Canal Village, boarding at the house of the Widow 
 Judd, and remaining sometimes two weeks or more for the pur- 
 pose of eeling. 
 
 Early in the nineteenth century numberless sturgeons de- 
 cided to spend the summer in Vermont or Massachusetts, and 
 passed this town in their ascent of the Connecticut Kiver. They 
 were a large, coarse fish, often eight or ten feet in length, and 
 so tough they were considered unfit for food. But we read that 
 in 1809 Tom Chandler, an eccentric and independent person, 
 "took home some sturgeon to eat, being the first man among 
 those acquainted with the circumstances who ever tried the ex- 
 periment. ' ' 
 
 Later the fashion penetrated to the Canal Village, and a 
 fish pound, or sturgeon coop, was installed. When the water 
 in the river was low a semi-circular wall of stones was built with 
 an opening left at the center for the entrance of the fish. A line 
 of upright timbers was placed at intervals across this opening, 
 leaving room for the sturgeon to enter between them. This huge 
 trap was baited with their favorite kinds of food, and when once 
 within its enclosure the fish were apt to swim around and around 
 without noticing the means of escape. 
 
 A well-known lawyer, whose boyhood and youth were spent 
 in South Hadley Falls, used to tell how one Sunday morning 
 word was brought that a school of sturgeon had entered the 
 pound. People flocked to the shore and the fishermen decided 
 that since they had come in on the Lord's Day, they should be 
 given to the villagers. Reverence for the Sabbath would not 
 permit them to be taken out until the following day. In the 
 meantime there was some danger of their escape, but the minis- 
 
208 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 ter bade them trust in the Lord and He would give them the 
 desire of their hearts, and the next morning found his words 
 verified, for the fish had remained in the pound. 
 
 About 1800 a society was organized and christened the 
 United Enterprise Fishing Company. After a time, however, it 
 was said that many of the members did not live up to their name. 
 It was charged that in the morning they were usually late at the 
 wharves, and that after each haul they took a long rest, on the 
 plea that they must wait for the fish to collect in the eddies. This 
 led some facetious individual to recall the words of Solomon, 
 "Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise," 
 and he named them the Old Sluggard Company, a title which 
 clung to it throughout the rest of its existence, yet its members 
 were not inactive, the most energetic one being appointed sales- 
 man and occupying a box upon the beach. 
 
 No sooner were the fish landed than they were disposed of 
 to the crowd of waiting jjurchasers. Salmon were in great de- 
 mand, the supply being far less plentiful than during the pre- 
 ceding century. Shad also had increased in price, being sold in 
 1816 at ten cents apiece. They so greatly outnumbered all other 
 kinds of fish it was made a rule that if a man purchased a twelve- 
 pound salmon he must also buy twelve shad, or the bargain 
 would not be closed. 
 
 Another sluggard, who was considered a good accountant, 
 was placed in charge of the bar at the old fish house. The 
 latter was an unpainted, one-roomed structure, standing near 
 the junction of the Beach Road and the highway leading to 
 Granby. Across the beams within this old fish house were 
 placed oars, poles and boat hooks, while one side of the room 
 was piled with nets and other fishing gear. Upon the opposite 
 side stood the bar, a rough wooden counter stretched across the 
 corner. Eeady at hand were toddy stick and flip iron, with mug, 
 bowl, pitcher and glass to be used when needed. The wall be- 
 hind the counter served as day book and ledger, for upon it 
 was written daily each man's account. The fishermen were not 
 paid until the end of the season, but at that time all indebtedness 
 would be canceled. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 209 
 
 Sometimes the sluggards, between the hauls of their long 
 sweep net, manned a boat in order to ascend the rapids with 
 their scoop nets. This was somewhat dangerous, but was gener- 
 ally attended with success, and the boat returned well laden. 
 
 At the close of the day's work the last boatload was re- 
 tained for the use of the sluggards, the division of which was 
 effected in the following manner: One of their number was 
 blindfolded and the fish were placed in as many piles as there 
 were men to share them. The blindfolded man was then led to 
 each pile and named the person to whom it should be assigned. 
 This was looked upon as a very honest and impartial method 
 of division. 
 
 As Hartford and the towns lower down established fisheries 
 of their own, the number of shad and salmon that ascended the 
 river to the Canal Village became less, and it was thought best 
 to build fishing wharves near the present site of the Free Bridge. 
 These wharves, some half dozen in number, were artificial 
 islands made of timbers and huge stones; they were wedge- 
 shaped, a hundred feet in length, and were placed one hundred 
 feet apart, and parallel to the shore. The freshets soon gave 
 them a coating of soil sufficient to sustain a scanty vegetation, 
 coarse grass and stunted willows. From these points of van- 
 tage the old sluggards, armed probably with long poles, friglit- 
 ened back the fish that were seeking to enter the rapids, thus 
 making them an easy prey to the men below. 
 
 Portions of these old wharves are .still visible near the 
 bridge in low water. 
 
 In apple-blossom time, the Canal Village was a busy spot 
 with throngs of people passing to and fro, but in winter the 
 spirit of repose seemed to have fallen upon the little hamlet. 
 When the Connecticut was well fettered with ice and snow, ox 
 teams from Hadley would call at some house near the landing 
 to inquire if it were safe to cross the river with a load on their 
 way to Springfield. The housekeeper could always give a 
 prompt reply to this question. A basin of milk was kept in front 
 
210 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 of the buttery window, and until that became solid to the very 
 bottom of the dish the ice bridge was looked upon as unsafe. 
 
 The long winter evenings were spent by the men of the 
 village round the big fireplaces in the taverns. Here they re- 
 lated to one another their experiences in hunting and fishing, 
 and a vivid imagination must have stood sponsor for some of 
 these tales. Or perhaps they told stories about witches and 
 ghosts, incited thereto by reports of a new Witch Hole dis- 
 covered in the Slipe, a hole so deep that the longest pole could 
 not touch the bottom, but would be drawn down by some in- 
 visible power till it disappeared from sight. Geological kettles 
 and quicksands were not at that time as well understood as they 
 now are. 
 
 Among the chaos of tales that have survived the years, one 
 ghost story was deemed more authentic than any other of its 
 kind. It was thus told by an old resident: 
 
 "You see, just after old Elder Pendleton gave the burying 
 ground to the Baptists, there was a fellow with a mighty fine 
 horse put up one night at Colonel Lambie's tavern. Before he 
 had finished his supper, along comes the High Sheriff, and claps 
 onto him for horse stealing. Well, it was too late to take him 
 off to Northampton jail that night, so they waited until morn- 
 ing. But before morning he had taken poison and died. So he 
 was the first person that was buried there. Some fellows who 
 have been along the river dark nights have seen him streaking 
 along the bank on horseback, looking over his shoulder as if he 
 was followed. When he gets to Catamount Hollow, he puts up 
 the brook into the woods. I never seen him myself." 
 
 At the outset the fishermen's tales generally liad some foun- 
 dation in fact. An old sluggard would describe the manner in 
 which a salmon ascended the dam. At the first trial it failed. 
 Then it went down stream and came back for a fresh attempt, 
 which would almost enable it to accomplish the feat. But fail- 
 ing in this, it went still further back, and swimming rapidly up 
 stream, with the momentum thus acquired, it leaped upward, 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 211 
 
 clearing the dam by several feet, and calmly proceeded on its 
 way northward.* 
 
 As the evening waned, the stories grew more and more im- 
 probable, till the climax was reached when some ancient fisher- 
 man told how his grandfather said that in Eevolutionary days 
 the shad were so thick in the river during the month of May that 
 one day, wishing to cross to the island, and not being able to 
 find a boat, he borrowed a pair of snow shoes and walked safely 
 over upon the backs of the fishes. 
 
 Nor were the fabled exploits of our hunters less marvelous. 
 The cornfields of South Hadley had been devastated by crows 
 and blackbirds. The former, instead of migrating, spent their 
 winters on the south side of Mount Tom, and were invariably 
 present at the first planting. They bade open defiance to the 
 ragged effigies that had added to the English vocabulary the 
 word "scarecrow," and continued to ravage the crops till the 
 town in despair offered as bounty a certain fixed sum for the 
 old crows and a smaller amount for the younger ones. This gave 
 rise to so much controversy in regard to the dividing line be- 
 tween the two classes that a committee was appointed in order to 
 settle these claims. 
 
 The favorite boast of the hunters was that upon one occa- 
 sion a young man saw twelve of these thieves sitting side by 
 side on the branch of a large tree. Taking careful aim, he sent 
 a charge of shot which split the bark of the branch lengthwise. 
 The concussion widened the cleft for an instant, just long enough 
 for the startled birds to spread their wings for flight, but clos- 
 ing quickly enough to make them prisoners, their toes being 
 held firmly in the bark of the tree. The storyteller probably 
 closed with the same statement as a former narrator, that he had 
 not himself witnessed the sight. 
 
 ♦The salmon has the power of swimming with great velocity; of stemming 
 rapid rivers, and of jumping over dams and waterfalls of considerable height. 
 It has been known to spring fourteen feet out of water, and to describe a curve 
 of at least twenty feet in order to surmount a cascade. If not successful at 
 first, it perseveres until it succeeds, unless the obstruction is insurmountable." 
 — Appleton's Condensed Encyclopedia, page 520. 
 
312 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 About 1830 a company was organized, and steamboats built, 
 for the navigation of the Connecticut. These boats were from 
 sixty to ninety feet in length, and were capable of carrying a 
 hundred persons, though they seldom had that number of pas- 
 sengers. They were towed through the canal at South Hadley 
 Falls, on their way to and from Greenfield.* They were very 
 narrow, being on the average but fifteen feet wide; this led a 
 facetious passenger to remark that he always kept on the middle 
 of the deck lest the boat should tip over. The cabin might have 
 been fitted up for Tom Thumb, it was so small, but the little 
 turkey-red curtains hanging loosely at the windows gave the 
 one touch of brightness to the dingy place. The engines were 
 crude affairs and not to be relied upon in these primitive steam- 
 boats ; they had neither steam nor water gauges, and the safety 
 valves often proved uncertain. The engineers sometimes pat- 
 ronized the bar, which was to be found in every boat. Only one 
 accident is reported as having taken place in our waters. A 
 steamboat near Smith's Ferry, whose safety valve had been tied 
 down, exploded its boiler, killing three men. The boats were 
 painted white and are said to have always been kept spick and 
 span. Charles Dickens, in his American Notes, writes of them 
 as being "Half a pony power." Yet in going from Springfield 
 to Hartford, they sometimes reached the latter place in half the 
 time consumed by the stage coach. They had no coal for their 
 engines, but yellow pine wood was cut into lengths of three 
 feet each, and piled at intervals near the shore, where the steam- 
 
 *Mr. George Lamb of South Hadley Falls writes: "These boats were of 
 the stern-wheel type, which so disturbed the water as to wash and damage the 
 canal bank. To overcome this difficulty, there were numerous inventions, which, 
 however, did not prove practical. 
 
 "Luther Alvord, a resident of Falls Woods, contrived a very ingenious 
 device for a canal boat propeller, having a small model that he operated at the 
 mouth of Stony Brook. It was considered very ingenious, but too complicated 
 to be adopted. 
 
 "Another model was built by a man named Durkins, of the 'New City' 
 (now Holyoke). He had a device for propellers opening and spreading against 
 the water, backward and forward, like the feet of a duck. The trial of this boat 
 did not prove a success, and it was finally towed back into the canal, not being 
 able to make progress against the current, and being in imminent danger of 
 going over the dam. 
 
 "The swing ferry at the Falls was considered the most prosperous on the 
 river, not only in regard to the immense traffic, but also the rapid trips and the 
 ease of operation made possible by the strong current." 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 313 
 
 boats could load it easily. These boats began running early in 
 spring, sometimes even in February, and continued in service till 
 the following winter. The last steamboat that ever passed 
 through the canal entered it on Thanksgiving day, 1847. George 
 Lamb and another boy had gone down intending to skate near 
 the head of the canal. As they were testing the strength of the 
 ice witli their spike poles, they heard a grinding, cracking sound 
 behind them, and looked back to see a boat crushing a path down 
 the narrow waterway. It forced its way through the canal, but 
 never returned, for the Hadley Falls Company bought the water 
 privilege, and the next year built the great dam, whose sorry 
 fate is too well known to need repetition. 
 
 The coming of "Lection Day" was, a century ago, a great 
 event in South Iladley Falls. Even the glories of Independence 
 Day paled before the delights of this annual carnival. The scene 
 upon the beach was thus described by a resident of the Canal 
 Village : 
 
 "On this day at Springfield, Northampton, and the other 
 larger towns, the militia were out for their annual training, but 
 take the county through, nowhere could be fovmd a larger 
 crowd, or more that was worth seeing, than at the Canal Vil- 
 lage. Here were no end of sunburned farmers, wearing knee 
 breeches, long waistcoats of homespun, and stout, buckled shoes. 
 Hats, low-crowned and broad of brim, shaded their clean-shaven 
 faces, and their long queues. The hot sim forced them to carry 
 on their arms their short-waisted coats, with broad lapels and 
 tremendous swallowtails. Here and there a man appeared in 
 his farmyard dress, a long brown frock of undyed tow cloth. 
 Rivermen and others who now and then visited Hartford were 
 distinguishable by a change in dress. To be sure, it was only a 
 lengthening of knee breeches, so as to button at the ankles ; but 
 what an absurd name this garment had — 'Pantaloon!' Those 
 who wore these pantaloons had a strange way of fastening their 
 shoes with strings instead of buckles. How Frenchified every- 
 thing was getting! But if the men were comical in their new 
 style of dress, what should be said of the women? Just look 
 at those dashing young people from Northampton, who set the 
 
214 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 fasliions for the country round. They were very lively in that 
 two-horse wagon, with its brace of double-chair seats. How the 
 good wives and daughters from the hill towns, looking out from 
 the recesses of their gig-topped calashes, wondered at the little 
 helmet-shaped bonnets, or the straw caps with visors, which 
 perched upon the frizzled heads of the young women. But those 
 criticizing girls from the hills, poor things, probably had noth- 
 ing but little bits of looking-glasses at home that did not show 
 their red or butternut-colored flannel gowns, tied about the 
 waists with black ribbons, and gathered at the necks with green 
 ones. There were others in the great concourse besides farmer 
 folks, rivermen and dolls of fashion. It was only on Election 
 Day at Canal Village that so many curious characters were to 
 be seen. 
 
 "Here was a man on horseback with a load of strange-look- 
 ing articles behind him, which he was trying to sell. 'Only 
 fourpence for a corn broom that will out-sweep and out-last all 
 the birch brooms and split brooms in creation. You farmer 
 folks had better go home and jilant broom corn. I tell you ihe 
 time is coming when the corn broom business will be a bigger 
 thing than all your fishing, potashes, and what not. You folks 
 had better buy two brooms apiece, and take one home to use 
 and the other to keep, so as to remember the first time you ever 
 saw a corn broom.' 
 
 ' ' Farther on an indigo peddler, stained with his own wares, 
 was supplying housewives with provision for their dye tubs. 
 Beyond him was a Scotch-Irishman from Pelham, opening his 
 pack to exhibit the beautiful linen cloth and thread for which 
 his townswomen were rmrivaled. Now came tin peddlers from 
 Berlin,* very keen for a trade. 
 
 "Next came another Connecticut man, offering funny little 
 
 •President Dwight of Yale College tells us that tinware was first manufac- 
 tured in this country at Berlin, Conn., by William Pattison, in 1740. After the 
 Revolution, the business was carried on by young men who had learned the art 
 from Mr. Pattison. For many years the only method used by peddlers for con- 
 veying tinware to distant towns was by means of a horse with two baskets 
 balanced, one upon each side. After the war carts and wagons began to be 
 used for this purpose. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 215 
 
 wooden clocks, without cases, and intended to be hung against 
 the wall ; wonderfully cheap, only twenty-five dollars, and the 
 peddler would take anything in trade. 
 
 "Such were some of the characters that added zest to this 
 rare break in the dull uniformity of country life. 
 
 "As fishing had been suspended for the rest of the day, 
 some exciting substitute was needed, and arrangements had 
 been made for trials of strength and skill. The ground selected 
 was at the upper end of the beach. * * * When every pre- 
 liminary had been settled, and all boys removed from within the 
 lines, official announcement was made of the various prizes. 
 
 "The quoits of rounded stone were first produced, and after 
 a long contest, Springfield and Northampton were beaten by 
 Hadley. Next came the shooting. A piece of white paper five 
 inches square was fastened to a tree for a mark. The marks 
 men took their stand fifty yards away. Selden and Smith of 
 Hadley, Birge and Alexander of Northampton, and young 
 Moody of Granby, all famous hunters, exhibited their skill amid 
 great applause. * ♦ * Then came the wrestling match. 
 Time will not allow a full account of the 'Indian hug' with which 
 Dunham* mastered all opponents, or his discomfiture in the 
 running jump by a slim youth from Skipmuck. 
 
 "Next came the lifting. Eobinson of Granville was 
 promptly on hand when the trial was called. While he rolled 
 up his sleeves, stories of his great strength circulated through 
 the crowd, but no one came forward to meet him. He glanced 
 scornfully over the assemblage, and called for the man who 
 dared try him. A group of men were urging a companion who 
 towered a good head above them : ' Go in, Capen, you can whip 
 two of him!' 'I guess I can,' answered the Captain, with a 
 mellow laugh. Accordingly the good-natured man took him- 
 self into the ring, to the great delight of the crowd, for all dwell- 
 ers by the river knew what Captain Henry Strong could do. 
 
 *Years before Mr. Dunham had been misled into joining in Shay's Insurrec- 
 tion. Later on he reinstated himself In the respect of his fellow townsmen by 
 saving the life of Enos Woodbridge (the son of our second minister) on the 
 evening when the scattered troops of Daniel Shay raided the town of South 
 Hadley. 
 
216 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 Among the piles of merchandise lay some barrels of cider. Rob- 
 inson rolled one of these to the side of a box about four feet 
 high, and seizing the barrel at each end, lifted it by sheer 
 strength onto the box. The applause which greeted this feat 
 gave him time to recover his breath before lifting the barrel 
 down again. 'There's your stunt,' said he, wiping the perspira- 
 tion from his face. *We rivermen generally take toll on such 
 things,' replied the Captain; loosening the bung with a stone 
 and placing it upon a clean tuft of grass, the boatman easily 
 lifted the barrel to his mouth and took a hearty drink. 'Per- 
 haps you'll take a pull,' remarked the Captain, depositing the 
 barrel at Robinson's feet. The Granville champion was bound 
 to accept the challenge, and fairly earned his drink before he 
 succeeded in getting it. In the meantime Captain Strong was 
 arranging for another trial. Two strong planks were leaned 
 against a pile of timbers ; his friends rolled forward a hogshead 
 of molasses, and it lay ready at the foot of the plank. 'We've 
 had boy's play, and now we'll try some grown men's work,' 
 said the Captain. He bared his arms and rolled the hogshead, 
 hand over hand, to the top of the incline. There he held it for 
 a moment, while all wondered whether he could possibly 
 jump aside in time to escape being crushed when he let go of it. 
 But their fears were needless, for he rolled it easily back to the 
 ground, and courteously stepped aside to make way for Robin- 
 son. The champion, however, declined the trial, saying he was 
 no boatman to go rolling things round; what he wanted was a 
 clean lift. 'Well,' returned Captain Strong, 'you gave me a fair 
 stunt, and I done it. Then I stumped you, and you — well, we'll 
 allow you done it. And then I stumped you again, and you 
 daresent try; that's all I've got to say now.' At this moment 
 word came that Captain Strong's boat was about to enter the 
 canal, and he was soon on his way, amid the hearty cheers of the 
 crowd." * * * 
 
 "I don't see as there is any great call for girls to spin," said 
 a middle-aged visitor, whose white shirt told that he was no 
 Hampshire County man. "Down in Rhode Island an English- 
 man has a big mill where he uses water to spin with. Land near 
 

SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 217 
 
 the waterfalls that you could have bought five years ago for a 
 hundred dollars an acre is now worth fifteen hundred." "My 
 sakes!" exclaimed Smith, "perhaps if they knew of these falls, 
 they'd try here. There's water enough, I guess, for the two 
 saw mills don't near use it all." "There is a considerable pow- 
 erful fall here," allowed the other, "but this is too far west, 
 too far from Boston. This will always be a lumbering and fish- 
 ing river, I guess. I am not afraid to say there will never be 
 such a thing as a cotton mill so far back in the couutry. " 
 
 With the expression of these and kindred sentiments, the 
 company left the beach, which had faintly imaged a county fair, 
 and in the crowded taverns a good supper and the evening dance 
 rounded out the festivities of the day. 
 
 In process of time the number of outside guests at the Canal 
 Village lessened, though Election Day was still esteemed a gala 
 occasion, and the journey up to South Hadley Center, which 
 was then the only polling place, was sometimes a thing worthy 
 of note. 
 
 In 1840 a spirited contest arose between the whigs and 
 the locofocos, as the Democrats were then called. William 
 Henry Harrison was the whig candidate for the presidency, 
 and was known as Tippecanoe, on accoi:nt of his having won 
 the battle of that name in the war with the Indians. The old 
 refrain, "Tippecanoe and Tyler, too," was borne upon every 
 wind that swept through the gap in the mountains, and the Falls 
 people decided to let the uptown locos see what they could do. 
 Accordingly, a short time before election, the men at the Canal 
 Village built a long platform, which was placed upon wheels. 
 Upon this was erected a log cabin, modeled after the old one at 
 North Bend. Through the stove pipe, which did duty for a 
 chimney, issued a fine colunm of smoke, as, with ten yoke of 
 oxen to draw it, they started for the Center. 
 
 The log cabin was eight feet long, and above its open door 
 one could read, "Tippecanoe's door, whose latch string is never 
 pulled in." Above the heads of the leading pair of oxen was 
 framed a large banner, and the most radical among the whigs 
 carried pocket handkerchiefs more than two feet square, upon 
 
218 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 which were imprinted pictures of General Harrison on horse- 
 back, the Capitol at Washington, the log house, etc. Concealed 
 in one corner of the cabin, as the procession of voters marched 
 up the road, was a keg of cider and a huge bag of crackers. 
 There was to be an address in the interests of Harrison, and 
 his adherents left their cortege east of the meeting house and 
 seated themselves in the church, ready to listen to the speaker. 
 
 Under the able leadership of Dexter Ingraham there was 
 first an interval of patriotic music that stirred the pulse of every 
 whig, but hardly was the address well begun when the locos stole 
 softly out of the house. 
 
 Political feeling at this time ran high at the Center, as was 
 shown by an incident that occurred here during this campaign. 
 "Uncle Sim" and "Uncle Joel," as they were familiarly called, 
 were near neighbors, the former being an ardent whig and the 
 latter a decided Democrat. One day Uncle Sim, on his way to 
 Northampton, overtook his neighbor, also on the road to the 
 Meadow City, and invited him to ride. Unfortunately the con- 
 versation took a political turn, and after two or three miles 
 both men became so excited that Uncle Sim stopped his horse 
 and asked his companion to alight. Uncle Joel begged to stay 
 in, promising that he would not mention the name of Harrison 
 again. "No," replied the other firmly, "my horse is just as 
 good a whig as I am, and he refuses to carry you a step farther. ' ' 
 So Uncle Joel plodded slowly on to Northampton. His fellow 
 politicians, however, did not allow this slight to pass unavenged, 
 for after the exercises in the church were finished on that mem- 
 orable day, when the whigs repaired to the log cabin for 
 refreshment, they found the keg of cider empty, and of the 
 crackers only a few crumbs remained. 
 
 But upon the day of Harrison's inauguration, the victori- 
 ous whigs had their innings. A brass cannon was brought up 
 from Chicopee and stationed upon the beach. A feast was pre- 
 pared in the old tavern near the present site of the Glasgow 
 Mill, and a series of signals with flags was arranged so that the 
 gunner might know when to fire. Captain Calvin Goodman was 
 requested to give a toast. He rose gravely and said: "The 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 219 
 
 locofoco party: a wheel without a single spoke in it." Then 
 the cannon boomed, and the thunders of applause, it is said, 
 shook the house to its very lowest foundations. 
 
 After the close of the Revolution, it was said that every 
 family in the Canal Village owned either a horse or a yoke of 
 oxen, which on Sunday gave them conveyance to the church 
 uptown. But as years went on, mills were erected and many of 
 the new inhabitants were compelled to walk the long, circuitous 
 road through Falls Woods, there being at that time no other 
 highway between South Hadley Center and the Falls. Perhaps 
 the most welcome of these new industries was the salt mill. 
 Previous to this, every family must own an iron mortar and 
 pestle, wherein the hard crystals of salt could be pounded to a 
 powder. This was wearisome work for the young people, and 
 they hailed with delight the "salt house" of Josiah Bardwell, 
 which was working in 1824. Here were ground the great lumps 
 of salt brought from Nantucket. The late R. 0. Dwight, whose 
 value as a historian only those who have studied carefully the 
 archives of our town can fully understand, says that at first 
 "It was sold in bulk, being weighed out to purchasers as sugar 
 is now." Later on a new firm "Introduced an improvement 
 by selling their salt in cloth bags, each holding a specified 
 weight .... The novelty took at once, and spread from 
 South Hadley Falls all over the country." 
 
 About this time Rev. Joel Hayes resigned his pastorate at 
 South Hadley, and a call was extended to Rev. Artemus Boies, 
 with the proviso that as often as every third Sunday he should 
 preach at the Canal Village, taking his congregation with him. 
 This seemed to him like having the care of two parishes, and 
 being in delicate health, he refused to accept upon such condi- 
 tions. He was then invited to become our pastor, but to preach 
 only at the Center, and to this call he sent an affirmative reply. 
 The dwellers by the river now concluded that it was high time 
 for them to start a new organization of their own. They were 
 already in the habit of holding prayer meetings in the Canal 
 Village, and in 1784 they had asked to have the control of their 
 own school money, and it had been granted. The Baptists had 
 
220 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 
 
 commenced a preaching service years before. In 1785 Rev. 
 John Pendleton officiated, and four years later Rev. Mr. Dodge 
 started a Baptist church. Before 1805 this had been merged 
 in the Holyoke church, for at that time South Hadley voted 
 "To excuse the Baptists from paying a minister's tax." The 
 assessors accordingly sent a portion of that year's taxes to 
 Elder Rand. 
 
 In 1824 Rev. Eli Moody began preaching in what was called 
 the Brick Chapel. He writes concerning this: "My audience 
 room was in the second story, the stairs leading up to it being 
 on the outside of the house, and all the accommodation for sit- 
 tings was rough plank or slat seats, without any backs to them. 
 This room had previously been loaned to the people of the vil- 
 lage for religious meetings. In this room I preached three 
 months." 
 
 At the expiration of that time the place was arranged with 
 "Comfortable pews and a neat and pleasant pulpit." 
 
 At the installation of Rev. William Tyler, in 1832, some 
 fears were expressed lest the floor of the Brick Chapel would 
 not be strong enough to sustain the weight of the crowd who 
 would be present, and the exercises were held in the Ames Paper 
 Mill, which was then in the course of erection. 
 
 The first church edifice was built in 1835, and became the 
 home of the South Evangelical Society, which had been organ- 
 ized eleven years before, and whose original membership of nine- 
 teen had been much increased. 
 
 From one of their later ministers, we quote the following: 
 "I was your pastor during the Civil "War, and am ine\'itably 
 carried back to those eventful times; the thrilling scenes we 
 witnessed in this meeting house, when one after another of our 
 young men, the flower of our families, came forward and signed 
 their names to the roll of volunteers for their country's service. 
 I call to mind the gathering of the citizens around the liberty- 
 pole on South Hadley Green, when the town clerk read the oath, 
 and, with uplifted hands, we all renewed our allegiance to the 
 Constitution and Government of the United States ; the camp at 
 Greenfield, where I was requested to present a sword to Lieut. 
 
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 221 
 
 Williams (of South Hadley) ; the mustering of the young sol- 
 diers in the east gallery of this house on the Sabbath before 
 their departure, and the words of farewell and Godspeed from 
 the balcony of the hotel." 
 
 These words revive the memory of earlier conflicts, the 
 French and Indian wars, and the Revolution, when there was 
 neither newspaper nor telegraph here, and, only at rare inter- 
 vals, a letter to bring news from the battlefield. 
 
 The flight of years has wrought great changes in our town. 
 The deathknell of the old-fashioned fireplace was sounded, when, 
 in every room save one in that first seminary building, Mary 
 Lyon installed a little Franklin stove, which had already begun 
 to supersede the big back log. 
 
 Many interesting incidents have been related to the writer 
 of the fraternal friendships which existed in families at that 
 time. There was the story of the two Smith brothers, who owned 
 separate farms, both of which were very large. Every morning 
 at sunrise each went to the top of a hill near his home, and the 
 elder gave three long blasts upon a horn, which told his listening 
 brother that all was well. The younger brother returned hia 
 answer in like fashion. The custom was continued for years, and 
 at any failure of this signal a messenger instantly was dis- 
 patched to the house of the other. 
 
 Now camlet cloak and homespun suit 
 
 No longer flit from door to door. 
 Yet patient years have borne their fruit. 
 
 In school, and home, and church of yore. 
 Those days remote, long, long are past. 
 
 The empty nest has left the bough, 
 A plaything of the whirling blast; 
 
 And moss-grown stones confront us now. 
 We reap the harvest of their deeds 
 In rustling fields along the lea; 
 The fruitage of immortal seeds. 
 The golden sheaves of liberty. 
 We pray you, birds, sing sweetly there. 
 
 We bid you, flower-grown meads, to show 
 At spring's return a bloom so fair 
 That our unwilling hearts may know, 
 'Tis time that stays, 'tis ive who go. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Page 
 
 Angel of Hadley, The 4-6 
 
 Apple Trees 12, 97 
 
 Arithmetic 50, 55, 60 
 
 Bears 18 
 
 Bees, Chopping, etc. .18, 35-37, 196 
 
 Bees, Honey 33 
 
 Bible, The. 26, 71, 95, 118, 139, 154 
 
 Bricks 16 
 
 Brick Oven 110 
 
 Brooms 214 
 
 Buttery Brook 9, 203 
 
 Canal, The 201, 213 
 
 Carpets 178 
 
 Census, The 136 
 
 Chairs 87, 175 
 
 Children 25-27 
 
 Children Catechising 172 
 
 Churches, South Hadley Palls. 220 
 
 Clocks 179, 215 
 
 Condit, Rev. Joseph. .62, 119, 170 
 
 Copy Books 61 
 
 Courtship 16, 23 
 
 Crows 211 
 
 Dame School 51 
 
 Deacons 112, 114, 148 
 
 Draper, Josiah 44, 55-57, 153 
 
 Dress 180 
 
 Dwight, Dr. Elihu 175 
 
 Eeling 20.5-207 
 
 Election Day 213, 217 
 
 Emergency Call, An 154 
 
 Examination Day 63 
 
 Fires, Kindling of 177 
 
 Fisheries 202, 203 
 
 Fish House 206, 208 
 
 Forks 22 
 
 Funeral Customs 29-33 
 
 Geography 50, 51 
 
 Goffe, General 4-6 
 
 Halfway Covenant, The. 3, 101, 105 
 
 Harrison's Campaign 217 
 
 Harvard College. 140, 142 
 
 Hanks, Rev. Roswell 79, 91 
 
 Hessians. Farming of 155 
 
 Page 
 
 Highways 14, 180, 203 
 
 Hilliard's Knob 50, 184 
 
 Holland, J. G 24, 198 
 
 Home Lots 8-11 
 
 Houses 11, 15-17, 81 
 
 Hungry March, The 127 
 
 Ice Houses 40, 41 
 
 Independence of the United 
 
 States 152, 164 
 
 Indians, The 121 
 
 Informers, The 55, 66, 143 
 
 Ink 49 
 
 Labor Troubles 157 
 
 Lafayette, Marquis de 195-197 
 
 Land, Divisions of 7-15 
 
 Land Grants 7, 13 
 
 Lexington, Call of 146 
 
 Libraries 182-184 
 
 Lubbers' Hole 8, 199 
 
 Lyon, Mary 75-93 
 
 Matches .'. 178 
 
 Meeting Houses 
 
 94, 95, 114, 115, 119 
 
 Meeting Houses, Seating of .98, 111 
 
 Mighill, Samuel 53-57 
 
 Millerites 193-195 
 
 Missionary Societies 165 
 
 Mobbing 104, 144 
 
 Montague, Peter, Houses of 
 
 .11, 16, 19, 81 
 
 Monnonism 191-193 
 
 Mountain House, The 196 
 
 Mourning 142 
 
 Nails, Making of 158 
 
 Names 158, 185 
 
 Noonhouses 174 
 
 Pantaloons 181, 213 
 
 Parsonages 78, 96, 109 
 
 Pass of Thermopylae 199 
 
 Pendergrass, Peter 147 
 
 Peperidge Tree 21 
 
 Pins 176, 177 
 
 Pioneers 6, 7, 12 
 
 Post Office 41, 148 
 
Page 
 
 Potatoes 54, 97 
 
 Pouting Pen 114, 117 
 
 Preston, John 15, 33 
 
 Punishments 52-69 
 
 Kate Day Ill 
 
 Eattlesnakes 17 
 
 Eawson, Eev. Grindall 
 
 95-103, 105-107 
 
 Kock Ferry 191, 195, 198 
 
 Salt Mill." 319 
 
 Schools 48-69 
 
 Seminary Mt. Holyoke 79-92 
 
 Seminary Receptions 89 
 
 Shad and Salmon .203-205, 208-210 
 
 Shay's Rebellion 70, 162 
 
 Sickness 112 
 
 Singing 43-47, 83 
 
 Slaves 158, 167-169 
 
 Sleep, Hours of 24 
 
 Sluggard Company 208, 209 
 
 Smith, Chileab . . '. 103-105 
 
 Spelling Schools 64, 65 
 
 Spatterdashes >. 180 
 
 Spinning 19, 20 
 
 Spinning, on Sunday 148 
 
 Stamp Act " 136 
 
 Steamboat 311-213 
 
 Page 
 
 Stoyes 98. 172-174 
 
 Sturgeon 207 
 
 Sunday Schools 166 
 
 Superstitions 30-33, 101 
 
 Taxes 139 
 
 Tea 140-143 
 
 Tea Parties 21 
 
 Temperance 169 
 
 Texts 13, 118, 119, 183 
 
 Tinware 214 
 
 Tories 143, 145, 147, 150, 160 
 
 Tunnel, The 49 
 
 Underground Railroad 169 
 
 Visiting Day 171 
 
 Wages 43, 65, 156, 158 
 
 Warrant, The.'. 141 
 
 Washing Day 21 
 
 Weddings 38, 101 
 
 Witches and Ghosts 186, 310 
 
 Wood Day 109 
 
 Woodbridge, Dorothy 189 
 
 Woodbridge, Enos. .'. .186-189, 215 
 Woodbridge, Rev. Jolm 
 
 107-113, 137, 148 
 
 Woodbridge, Col. Ruggles 
 
 ...70-73, 117, 141, 146, 155, 162 
 Wright, Abby 73-75 
 
JUN 14 1912