FROM THE HUB
TO THE HUDSON:
WITH SKETCHES OF
Nature, Hristory and Industry
IN
NORTH-WESTERN MASSACHUSETTS.
BY
WASHINC.GTON GLADDEN.
.......
B OS TO N:
THE NEW ENGLAND NEWS COMPANY.
I869.
A__ 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year I869, by
WASHINGTON GLADDEN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts.
SAMUEL BOWLES & COMIPANY,
.Eeltraopers, Printers and Binders,
SPRINGFIELD, AIASS.
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PRE F ACE.
IN the collection of materials for this little book
I have been assisted by many friends; among whom
are Messrs. Stevens of the Mansion House in Greenfield; and Rev. Robert Crawford, D. D., Nathaniel
Hitchcock, Esq., and Dr. Charles Williams of Deerfield. Hitchcock's Geological Report, Holland's History of Western Massachusetts, Hoyt's Indian Wars,
Barber's Historical Collections, and the various reports of Commissioners  and  Engineers upon the
Hoosac Tunnel, have been of great service to me.
The engravings of the Tunnel were executed from
photographs by Messrs. Hurd & Ward of North
Adams.
The book is built on these two maxims:
I. History begins at home.
2. It is better to see one town from all its hilltops than five hundred towns from the car windows.
The  reader will find upon  its pages  extended
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PREFACE.
notices of various persons  and  industries.   I ask
him to take my word for it that these are not purchased puffs, and they were not prompted by that
species of gratitude peculiar to politicians-" a lively
sense of favors yet to come." 
My first purpose was to let the book be anonymous, from a foolish feeling that such work might
be considered unprofessional; but I have concluded
that the attempt to show people how and where they
may cheaply and pleasantly spend their few days of
summer vacation-often the dreariest days of the
year-is nothing to be ashamed of or apologized
for. A book that helps anybody to see and enjoy
the Connecticut Valley or the Berkshire Hills, will
be likely to do less harm than a book about the
Mode of Baptism or the Origin of Evil. I do not,
however, pretend to have been wholly actuated by
considerations of benevolence.   I have enjoyed the
writing  of the  book.   It may  be  death  to  my
readers, but it has been sport for me.
The rest of the preface will be found in the body
of the book.                                  W. G.
NORTIi ADAMS, May I, I869.
iv 
From the Hub to the Hudson.
CHAPTER I.
FROM BOSTON TO GREENFIELD..
A CERTAIN Vermont Yankee, extolling, as Yan     kees are wont to do, the town of his nativity,
mentioned as one of its distinguishing peculiarities the
remarkable fact that you could start from there to go
to any place in creation. The Yankee who hails from
Boston may, without exceeding his usual modesty, make
the same claim for the place of his residence. Boston
is a good place to start from. Indeed it is said that
pretty much everything that moves in this world has
started, or does start, from Boston. Here the fires of
revolutionary patriotism were kindled; here is Faneuil
Hall, and the Old South Church; here John Hancock
learned to write that large hand which so boldly leads
the column of signatures to the famous declaration;
here Adams spoke, and Otis wrote, and Warren fought
and fell. Out of Boston came the Radical Abolition
If 
6     FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
ists; forth from Boston proceed the apostoli and the
apostolae of the new gospel of Woman Suffrage; and
from the pent-up confines of this crooked town issue
those twin prodigies of literature and statesmanship,
George Francis Train and the Count Johannes. Who
can deny that Boston is the proper base of all operations, and the perspective point from which the world
must be pictured and regarded?
It was inevitable, then, that our book should begin
at Boston. And as charity which begins at home is
often greatly minded to stay there, so the book which
begins at Boston is not likely to get far beyond it.
Being at the center of the universe, the centripetal
force is almost irresistible. But the entrifugal impulses are sometimes felt, even in Boston, as everybody knows, and taking advantage of the first wave of
outward movement, we will fly from the hub toward
the periphery.
Very likely, however, there will be numerous travelers seeking the shadows of the Berkshire hills and the
quiet of the Connecticut meadows, for whom Boston
will not be the natural starting-point. It is not given
to all of us to breathe the atmosphere of this classic
town, nor to be blown upon by its east winds, nor to
sneeze with its influenza. And such as have been
denied these happy distinguishments of fortune may
not care to read any further in this chapter. From
them we will part company here, in the hope of meeting them a little nearer to sunset.
One word before we go any further. This is not a 
NOT A GUIDE-BOOK.
guide-book. If you bought it for that, you are badly
cheated.   The  guide-book  knows  everything; and
there are a great many things that this little book does
not know. The guide-book stops at all the towns;
this book will trundle right through many of them, not
even halting five minutes for refreshment. The guidebook knows just how many meeting,-houses, courthouses, school-houses, banks, jails, mills, stores, each
town contains; how long all the rivers are; how deep
the lakes; how high the mountains. This little book
confesses its ignorance of many of these things. It
does not mean to burden its readers with many statistics; it seeks to be a pleasant companion not only to
railway travelers, but also to fireside travelers.  And
if, without attempting any exhaustive account of the
region where its scenes are laid, it shall succeed in
calling attention to some of its most attractive features,
and in bringing back some of the associations of the
olden time, the end for which it was written will be
attained.
All this might have been said in the preface, but
people never read prefaces.
Having a good start and a fair understanding, we
roll out of the noble granite passenger-house of the
Fitchburg Railway, and are soon crossing the Charles
River upon one of the many viaducts and bridges
which span that stream.  To the right is Charlestown,
with Breed's Hill and Bunker's Hill; the former of
which is crowned by the famous obelisk that marks
the spot where Prescott and Putnam and their brave
7 
FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
provincials planted the tree of liberty; the latter of
which is surmounted by a costly Roman Catholic
cathedral. Bunker Hill monument divides the honors
now with half a dozen brick smoke-stacks; some of
which appear from this point even taller than the
monumental shaft. So, too often, are the great events
of history overtopped or obscured by the nearer but
meaner facts of daily use and custom.
On the left, the old bridge crosses from Boston to
Cambridgeport; and on the top of Beacon Hill the
dome of the State House remains the most conspicuous
figure of the landscape, well guarded by the sentinel
spires of Park Street and Somerset Street churches.
~ast Cambridge welcomes us to its hospitable, but
not very attractive shores; and the view we get of old
Cambridge, further on, is not one that does justice to
its beauty. Is it Holmes, or was it Hawthorne, who
once told us that the railroads almost always take us past
the back doors and show us the worst sides of houses
and towns? The rule has so.me exceptions, but old
Cambridge is not one of them. There is an excellent
flavor of age and respectability about this ancient town,
if you know how to take it. "Doubtless God could
have made a better, but doubtless he never did," quoth
our worthy Hosea Biglow. We shall be compelled to
take his word for it, while we whistle through the outskirts of what might, but for a few ancient elms along
the railway, pass for a first-class western "city."
Belmont next puts in an excellent appearance. It is
one of the neatest of the "subhubs;" its charming resi
8 
WAVERLY AND WALTHAM.
dences on either side the railway must prove a delightful resort to men whose days are spent in the narrow
and noisy streets of Boston.
Waverly is a pleasant name for a pleasant place.
Like the capital of the country, it is a village of magnificent distances; like the other Waverly, it is largely
a work of fiction, though founded on fact.
Waltham -here we come to the solid realities again.
This is the western end of old Watertown, and was
separately incorporated in 1738. The occasion of the
division of the town was a church quarrel. The old
church edifice was at the eastern end of the town, and
the inhabitants of that section were determined to keep
it there; but the star of empire led the tides of population westward; and since the dwellers in the ancient
burg would not be content with the church that was
built rhidway, they were obliged to have the town
divided, and the Walthamites sat down under their
own vine and fig-tree, by the banks of the smooth
flowing Charles. Waltham is a very substantial and
thrifty town of something less than ten thousand inhabitants.   Eight churches  offer to worshipers  all
varieties of faith and form; a public library of 4,500
volumes carries on the education begun in the excellent schools; a Savings' Bank holds the accumulations
of the mechanics and operatives who constitute the
population; and two weekly newspapers, one radical
and the other neutral, furnish those of the people who
are not able to think for themselves with ready made
opinions on all sorts of subjects.
Is
9 
IO    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
The large brick factory on your left, nearly opposite
the railway station, is the cotton mill of the Boston
Manufacturing Company. Here was erected, in 1814,
the first power-loom for cotton weaving ever operated
in America. In this large establishment, (then much
smaller than now,) the great Cotton manufacturing
interest in America had its origin. A little pamphlet,
by Hon. Nathan Appleton of Boston, giving the history
of the beginning and the growth of this enterprise, is as
interesting as a romance, not only to all who make
cotton goods but to all who wear them. The project
was formed by Mr. Francis C. Lowell, while in Edinburgh, in the year i8II. At that place he and Mr.
Appleton discussed the practicability of weaving cotton
cloth by power; and before he returned to this country
Mr. Lowell visited Manchester to gain all possible
information upon the subject. As the result of these
deliberations, the Boston Manufacturing Company was
formed in i8r3, this water-privilege at Waltham was
purchased, and the machinery was procured.
"The power-loom was at this time being introduced
in England; but its construction was kept very secret,
and, after many failures, public opinion was not favorable to its success. Mr. Lowell had obtained all the
information which was practicable about it, and was
determined to perfect it himself. He was for some
months experimenting at a store in Broad Street,
employing a man to turn a crank.  It was not until
the new building at Waltham was completed, and other
machinery was running, that the first loom was ready 
THE FIRST POWER LOOM.
for trial. Many little matters were to be overcome or
adjusted before it would work perfectly. Mr. Lowell
said to me that he did not wish me to see it until it
was complete, of which he would give me notice.  At
length the time arrived. He invited me to go out
with him and see the loom operate. I well remember
the state of admiration and satisfaction with which we
sat by the loom; watching the beautiful movement of
this new and wonderful machine, destined, as it evidently was, to change the character of all textile
industry. This was in the autumn of I8l4.
"Mr. Lowell's loom was different in several particulars from the English loom, which was afterwards
made public. The principal movement was by a
cam, revolving with an eccentric motion, which has
since given place to the crank motion now universally used. Some other minor improvements have
since been introduced, mostly tending to give it increased speed.
"The afticle first made at Waltham was precisely the
article of which a large portion of the manufacture of
the country has continued to consist-a heavy sheeting
of No. I4 yarn, 37 inches wide, 44 picks to the inch,
and weighing something less than three yards to the
pound."*
These goods were sold in i8i6 for 30 cents per
yard; in I8i9, for 2I cents; in I826, for 13 cents; in
1829, for 8 I-2 cents; in i843, for 6 I-2 cents,-the
lowest figure they ever reached. They are now (March,
*Intrdduction of the Power Loom: By Nathan Appleton.
I I 
12    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
I869,) quoted in the New York wholesale markets at
about 13 cents a yard.
The property of this company now consists of two
mills for making cloth, containing 40,000 spindles and
700 looms; one mill for making hosiery, turning out
about 6oo00 dozen per day; and a bleachery and dye
works, with facilities for bleaching and dyeing about
six millions of pounds of cotton cloth per annum. It
employs about I,3oo00 hands, and has a capital stock of
$6oo00,000.
Another famous industrial establishment is found at
Waltham. As we leave the village going westward,
the shops of the Waltham Watch Company down by
the banks of the river attract our notice. The main
building is more than 300 feet long, with wings and
cross-wings more than doubling this space. Threequarters of a mile of benches are surrounded by 750
operators, about one-third of whom are women and
girls of American parentage. If you should walk
up the main street in time to meet these work
people going to dinner, you would be pleasantly impressed by their intelligent countenances, their neat
attire, and their orderly manners.  You might travel
far before meeting in one company no larger than this
an equal number of thoughtful and cultivated faces.
Since about 350,00o0 of the watches made by this company have found their way into the pockets of the
American people, it is safe to suppose that its history
and its methods of operation are not altogether unknown. Unlike the Swiss and other foreign watches, 
THE WATCIIES OF WALTHAM.
every part of the Waltham watch is made by some
delicate and ingenious machine. No such large manu factories of watches are found in the Old World. In
Geneva, since all the work is done by hand, the opera tives take it to their homes, and each one spends his
life-time in making one particular piece of the mechanism. Machine work being more uniform and accurate
than hand work, the Waltham watches ought to keep
better time than foreign watches, and this we believe
is the verdict of experience.
This view on our left as we leave the village of
Waltham is a very charming one,-the Charles River
at our feet in the foreground, and winding gracefully
through the valley; the village of Waltham, scattered
over an undulating plain, and the low hills in the distance toward Newton.
Stony Brook is the name of the next station. The
brook which gives the station its name is in the foreground on the right, and is not remarkably stony either.
Iteston comes next, and a single fact in its history
must suffice us. After having been twice directed to
procure a preacher, this town was at length, in i706,
prosecuted at the Court of Sessions for not having a
settled minister. The instances are not frequent in
our day, let us trust, in which people are compelled to
resort to the law in order to obtain the gospel.
Linzcoln is only a crossing and a depot; leaving
which, we are soon plunging into the Walden woods,
and skirting along the Walden pond, made immortal
by the hermit of Concord. It is a beautiful region.
I3 
14    FROM THIE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
The quiet woods and the placid lake might tempt to
hermithood one less fond of nature than Thoreau. On
the western shore of the lake, however, we discover
evidences that this solitude would not be so welcome
to the gentle philosopher if he should return to it.
Here are huts, and swings, and platforms, designed to
accommodate picnics; and it is more than likely if
the day is pleasant that the woods are filled with a frolicing company of Sunday-school children, or a crowd of
Teutons guzzling lager, and singing about" der Doitcher
Fodderlant." Just beyond the woods, a wide view opens
on the left across level meadows, and in the western
horizon Mount Wachusett, nearly thirty miles distant,
in the town of Princeton, is plainly seen on a clear day.
The next shriek of the locomotive means discord if
it means anything; but the conductor looking in just
now, says "Concord;" and it is impossible to doubt
him.  "In i635," says the chronicler, "Musketaquid
was purchased from the Indians and called Concord,
on account of the peaceable manner in which it was
obtained." Strange that the town which was so amicably settled should have been the town where the first
battle of the revolution was fought!  In Johnson's
" Vonder Working; Providence," a quaint old Puritan
record, we find some account of the early settlers.
After describing the miserable huts in which they first
found shelter, he goes on to say:
"Yet in these poor wigwams they sing psalmes, pray
and praise their God till they can provide them houses,
which ordinarily was not wont to be with many till the 
THE PIONEERS OF CONCORD.
earth by the Lord's blessing brought forth bread to
feed them, their, wives and their little ones, which with
sore labours they attain; every one that can lift a hoe
to strike it into the earth standing stoutly to their
labours, and tear up the rootes and bushes which the
first yeare bears them a very thin crop, till the soard of
the earth be rotten, and therefore they have been forced
to cuzt their bread very thinz for a long season. But the
Lord is pleased to provide for them great store of fish
in the spring time, and especially Alewives about the
bignesse of a Herring. Many thousands of these they
used to put under their Indian corn which they plant
in hills five foote asunder..... The want of English
graine, wheate, barley and rice proved a sore affliction
to some stomacks who could not live upon Indian
bread and water, yet were they compelled to it till
cattell increased and the plowes could but goe. Instead
of apples and pears they had pomkins and squashes
of divers kinds...... Thus this poore people populate
this howling desert, marching manfully on (the Lord
asisting) through the greatest difficulties and sorest
labors that ever any with such weak means have done."
Under such schooling as this the men of Concord
learned the steadfastness and heroism that they needed
in after days. The stuff that was bred in them by
these hardships was inherited by their descendants;
and at length, one bright morning, a hundred and forty
years after this battle with hunger and cold was begun,
the echoes of a more illustrious if not a fiercer conflict
were heard among the Concord Hills.
I5; 
i6    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
It would be worth our while, could we spare a few
hours in our journey, to stop at this ancient town, and
take a stroll through its quiet streets, and its memorable places. We should find it a remarkably well. preserved old village; not a squalid building is to be seen;
many of the houses bear marks of age, but all are neat
and many are tasteful and  elegant.   The principal
street is one of the pleasantest in New England.
There is not much noise of business, but an air of
thrift and cultivation pervades the place. Here have
dwelt and are dwelling now a larger number of famous
people than one small village commonly contains.
Here our great Hawthorne lived and died. Here
Marcus Antoninus reappears with the physiognomy of
a true Yankee, bearing the title of the "Sage of Concord," and answering to the name of Ralph  Waldo
Emerson; here  Alcott the seer, and  his daughter
Louisa, whose vision is not much duller than her
father's, spend their days; here the brilliant Thoreau
found a residence, and here those who loved and cared
for him to the last are living yet; here is the home
of Mrs. Jane G. Austin, one whom the novel-reading
world knows well; here Frederick Hudson, for many
years the wheel-horse of the New  York  Herald, is
trying to repair the frame he has broken with too
much toil; here dwells Judge Hoar, the jurist, the
scholar, the orator, the wit, and the noblest Roman of them all. Time would fail us if we tried to
note the stars of lesser magnitude in the Concord
constellation. 
WHO BEGUN IT.
Any one will show you the road that leads to the
spot where on the i9th of April, 1775, the Revolutionary War began.  The day before, at Lexington, the
American militia had been fired on by Pitcairn's British
regulars, and eight of them had been killed; but no
shot was fired in return.  Here, where the North Bridge
formerly crossed the Concord River, the first battle
was fought.   The bridge is now removed, and the
highway which led to it is enclosed; but a monument
marks the spot where the British soldiers were posted
when the engagement began, and directly across the
river in what is now a quiet meadow, the place is seen
where
"the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world."
The British, as everybody knows, had gained possession of the town, and were destroying the stores
gathered by the provincials in anticipation of war;
while the militiamen had assembled outside the village,
and across the stream, partly because unwilling to
begin hostilities, partly because greatly inferior in
numbers to the forces of the king. But before the sun
was high, military companies from the adjoining towns
began to arrive, and volunteers from all parts of Concord came, with such weapons as they could find, to
increase the force, until the number had grown to two
hundred and fifty or three hundred. Then, though
greatly outnumbered by the British regulars, they
"deliberately, with noble patriotism and firmness, resolved to march into the middle of the town to de
I7 
18    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
fend their homes, or die in the attempt; and, at the
same time, they resolved not to fire unless first fired
upon."
If they had known what had happened the day
before at Lexington, they might have been less scrupulous. But their determination to make the British
take the initiative in the fighting showed how coolly
they were carrying themselves in the midst of all these
exciting events. How steadily they marched down to
the bridge, receiving first a few scattering shots of the
British soldiery, and then a fierce volley that killed
two of their men and wounded two others; how bravely
they took up the gage of battle then, and drove the red
coats from the bridge and from the town; how pluckily
they dogged them all the way to Charlestown Neck,
falling on their flanks as they hastily retreated, and
making the road by which they marched a continual
ambuscade;-all this has been told oftener than any
other tale of our history; and it shall continue to kindle the patriotism of countless generations of brave
boys yet unborn; till, by and by, it will pass that undiscovered bourne which divides history from mythology, and  philosophers will forge elaborate treatises
in languages yet unwritten, to prove that there never
was any such war as the Revolutionary war, nor any
such town as Concord, but that this story is only a
type or illustration of the great struggle between
Liberty and Authority which has been going on for so
many ages.  Let us all be thankful that we live in the
day when the story is not a myth, but one of the solid 
WHO HELPED TO FINISH IT.                        19
est facts of history; and when  we  may  read in this
quiet field by the river side, on the marble inlet of the
granite shaft that commemorates the day and the deed,
these substantial statements:
" HERE, on the Ig9th of April, I775, was made the first forcible
resistance to British aggression. On the opposite banks stood
the American militia. Here stood the invading army, and on
this spot the first of the enemy fell in the war of the iRevolution,
which gave Independence to these United States. In gratitude
to God, and in the love of Freedom this monument was erected,
A. D. I836."
Eighty-six years from this very day, in the city of
Baltimore, on the i9th of April, i86i, the first soldier
fell in the later and greater conflict which gave to the
country the Liberty which the Declaration of Independence only promised, and consummated the work
here begun. That first soldier was-it is almost a
matter of course-a Massachusetts man; and his home
was in this gallant old County of Middlesex in which
we are standing now. If we walk back to the public
square in the middle of the town, we shall find another
granite shaft bearing witness in such words as these to
the fact that Old Concord was ready to do her part in
the last war as nobly as in the first:
"The town of Concord builds this monument in honor of the
brave men whose names it bears, and records with grateful pride
that they found here a birthplace, home or grave. They died
for their country in the War of the Rebellion, I86I to I865."
And now that we are reading monumental inscriptions we may be minded to visit the old burial-places 
20    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
in this village. where many quaint epitaphs are found
but none quainter than the following, many times published already, and so full of antithesis that Macaulay
himself, if he ever read it, must have laid down his pen
in despair of ever being able to match it:
"God wills us free;-man wills us slaves.  I will as God wills;
God's will be done. Here lies the body of JOHN JACK, a native
of Africa, who died, March, I773, aged about sixty years. Though
born in a land of slavery, he was born free. Though he lived in a
1 and of liberty, he lived a slave; till by his honest, though stolen
labors he acquired the source of slavery, which gave him his
freedom; though not long before Death, the grand tyrant, gave
him his final emancipation, and put him on a footing with kings.
Though a slave to vice, he practised those virtues without which
kings are but slaves."
Journeying westward again, through a region not remarkably picturesque, we halt for the first time at South
Acton, where the Marlboro branch of the Fitchburg
road diverges southward. While the train stops you
get a pretty little view on the left, a pond in the foreground, and hills in the distance.   From this town of
Acton marched before day on the morning of the i9th
of April, I775, the two men made immortal at Concord
by the first volley of the English soldiery,- Captain
Isaac Davis, and Abner Hosmer.
IVest Acton is a neat hamlet, mainly on the south of
the track.
Lit/eton is too small to be seen from the railroad,
but not too small to be the scene of a large story about
a certain lake, ominously called Nagog, where a strange
rumbling noise is sometimes heard. 
LOOK OUT FOR SHAKERS.
Groton _iznction, a large and flourishing village a little further on, is the hub of which railroads running in
six different directions are the spokes. The Fitchburg
Railroad and the Worcester and Nashua Railroad pass
tlroaiigi the town; the Stony Brook Railroad runs
north-eastward to Lowell, and the Peterboro and Shirley Branch north-westward to Mason Village, in New
Hampshire.  The Indian name of the town was Pctap-   4
away, and its present name was probably given to it
by one of the original grantees to whom the territory
was conveyed by the General Court in I655,-Mr.
Dean Winthrop, son of Governor Winthrop. Groton
was the home of the Winthrop family in England.
Shirley is a thrifty and presentable manufacturing
town, of a few hundred inhabitants on the bank of a
stream that empties into the Nashua River.  Aboutthis-time-look out-for-Shakers, —to borrow the
method of the almnanac.   In Harvard, a few miles
south, and in the town of Shirley, they have flourishing communities, and their broad brims and sober faces
are commonly visible, at any of the stations in this
neighborhood. In leaving Shirley we pass out of old
Middlesex County, into Worcester County.
Lunenberg is the next station.   Two or three miles
beyond it, an extensive and beautiful view is opened
to the southward. Leominster Center with its three
church spires stands in the middle of a charming.
landscape, two or three miles away, and the hills in
the horizon gave to the picture a majestic outline.
This is one of the most distant, and on the whole the
'2I 
22    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
most satisfactory outlook we have had since leaving
Boston. When the train stops at North Leominster,
Wachusett Mountain is in full view, between two nearer
hills.
Passing zVorti Zeominster, a young and ambitious
village, called into existence by the railroad we are
soon in the suburbs of
FITCHBURG.
This is the largest town we have seen since leaving
Cambridge. It was incorporated in I764, the region
where it stands being known before that time by the
name of Turkey Hills, from the large number of wild
turkeys found there. At the time of the opening of
the Fitchburg Railroad, in I845, it was a smart little
manufacturing village of something over three thousand inhabitants; and four hundred thousand dollars
would buy all the goods and wares it produced in a
year; now its population is not less than eleven thousand; its valuation is between six and seven millions
of dollars, and more goods are manufactured every year
than were manufactured in twenty years before the
opening of the railroad.
This rapid growth of population and business has
been largely the result of the increased railroad facilities. But for the railroad connecting it with Boston,
Fitchburg would probably be a smaller town now than
it was twenty-five years ago. When that railroad was
projected, it was strongly opposed on the ground that
there was not and would never be business enough to 
NO NONSENSE ABOUT IT.
pay interest on the cost of construction.  One of the
legislators declared that "a six-horse coach and a few
baggage wagons would draw all the freight from Fitchburg to Boston." Several six-horse coaches and quite
a train of baggage wagons would be required to do the
large business of this road to-day.
Fitchburg is not a stylish town. There is evidently
very little aristocracy here.  It is apparent that the
people have not yet reached the point of giving much
attention to matters of taste and elegance. Fitchburg
means business. It impresses you as being a place
of intense energy and vigor. It has some handsome
churches,-notably the one recently built by the Episcopalians; it has several excellent school-houses,-in
the year I867 it expended seventy-five thousand dollars
for new ones; it has a jail and house of correction
that would prove, one would think, almost too attractive; it has one or two good hotels; it has many
excellent houses; all the solid elements of the best
civilization are here; but the people have, as yet, had
but little time to give to architecture and landscape
gardening. aEsthetical culture will soon follow, however; and the town will at length be made as picturesque as now it is plain and practical.   These hillsides may, under skillful treatment, become a very
Arcadia for loveliness.
The town is situated in a deep ravine, through
which a branch of the Nashua river flows with rapid
descent, affording, within the limits of the town, a distance of five miles, no less than twenty-eight excellent
.23 
24    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
water-privileges.  This power is all utilized.  Here is
the Putnam Machine Company, a mammoth establishment, making the Burleigh Rock Drill, which was
invented in this town, and all sorts of iron work. This
is only one of several  machine-shops.   Here  are
manufactories for building Mowing and Reaping Machines, and for making scyt::hes and knives used in
various agricultural implements. More than a thousand men find employment in these various foundries
and machine-shops.  Chair-making furnishes employment to about five hundred persons. Chairs are made,
put together and painted, then knocked to pieces and
boxed for shipping. The American Ratan Company
gives employment to seventy-five persons. Ten papermills employ two hundred hands, and annually make
three thousand five hundred tons of paper, worth at
present prices one million of dollars. Three woolenmills, three cotton-mills, and one factory making
worsted yarn require for their operation nearly four
hundred persons.   Besides these, and many other
things which cannot be mentioned, Fitchburg makes
boots and shoes, palm-leaf hats and bonnets, reeds
and harnesses for looms; wool cards; brass fixtures
of various sorts; doors and sash; piano-cases,-and
money. Nearly fifty different kinds of manufacturing
are constantly in progress in this busy town.  People
who are interested in the industrial developments of
the country could spend a day or two here with great
profit to themselves. Neither is the region wanting in
attractions for those who love the picturesque in nature. 
THE VIEW FROM WACHUSETT.
Rollstone mountain, whose granite quarries supply the
town with excellent building material, rises abruptly on
the western side of the iver to a height of three hundred feet. The view from its summit is worth climbing for.  On the one side lie thie village and the hills
beyond; on the other you look across a beautiful country to Wachusett, ten miles distant,-the highest land
in Eastern Massachusetts.  Perhaps after you have
viewed it from afar, you will conclude to go over and
possess yourself of its glories. That you can easily
do. The Vermont and Massachusetts Railroad will
carry you to a station named Wachusett, where the
stages will take you up and land you at the mountain.
There you will find good hotels; the mountain top is
easily accessible; and a day or two in that high and
pure air will do you good. The top of this mountain
is a little more than three thousand feet above tide
water; and rises, without any very steep ascent, nearly
two thousand feet above the surrounding country, of
which it gives you a view from thirty to fifty miles in
extent on every side.
Only three miles from Fitchburg is Pearl Hill-to
the top of which good roads lead you, and from which
you may count twenty villages. Perhaps too you may
find the place where this thing happened, of which we
read in Torrey's History of Fitchburg:
"On one occasion, Isaac Gibson in his rambles on
Pearl Hill found a bear's cub, which he immediately
seized as his legitimate prize. The mother of the cub
came to the rescue of her offspring. Gibson retreated,
2
25 
26    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
and the bear attacked him in the rear, to the manifest
detriment of his pantaloons.  This finally compelled
him to face his unwelcome antagonist and they closed
in a more than fraternal embrace. Gibson, being the
more skillful wrestler of the two, threw Bruin and they
came to the ground together. W1ithout relinquishing
the hug both man and beast now rolled over each
other to a considerable distance down the hill, receiving sundry bruises by the way. When they reached
the bottom both were willing to relinquish the contest
without any further experience of each others prowess.
It was a draw game; the bear losing her cub, and
Gibson his pantaloons."
Whether this was the contest upon which the wife
looked, bestowing her applause so impartially upon
both combatants, the historian does not tell us; but it
is safe to assert that there are few eastern towns of the
size of Fitchburg that can tell a bigger bear story.
Falloolah is the musical name of a pretty glen in the
neighborhood, of which Mr. J. C. Moulton, the excellent photographer of Fitchburg will tell you, and a
picture of which he will show you. Mr. Moulton is,
by the way, an authority concerning all the points of
interest about Fitchburg and visitors would do well to
consult him. If they cannot visit all the places he
can tell them of, they can possess themselves of some
of his admirable stereographs.   Not only Fitchburg
and its surroundings but other neighborhoods are
represented in Lis collection. A series of photographs
of the Au Sable Chasm, in northern New York, gives 
WESTWARD  AGAIN.                   27
a moss satisfactory representation of one of the remarkable natural curiosities in America. Mention is
made of this collection of stereographs in this place
because they have been made with such excellent taste
and skill, and are so well worth the notice of persons
interested in this branch of art.        a
The Vermont and Massachusetts Railroad carries
us westward from Fitchburg, through a rough country,
over which we occasionally catch a glimpse to which
distance lends enchantment.  Westminster  Depot is
three miles from Westminster Village. The road from
the railroad to the town is a pleasant one even in the
winter, which is saying much for a country road; and
must be well worth traveling in the summer. The old
village to which it leads is a good specimen of a New
England hill town. The only thing that astonishes the
visitor is the architecture of some of the dwellings in
the principal street, which have an air of tremendous
boldness and self-assertion.
A4shburnham is remembered by all passengers as the
place where their seats and their heads are turned.
Here, for some unaccountable reason, there is a sharp
angle in the railroad track. The train stops on a
switch; the locomotive is turned round and attached
to the rear end of the train, and you are soon going
back, apparently in the direction from which you have
come. A better route has just been surveyed, south
of this line, from Gardner through Westminster to
Fitchburg, by which the angle will be avoided, the distance shortened and the grade improved. The road 
28    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
will soon be built in accordance with this survey.
From some of the elevated grades in this town you get
fine views to the southward.
Gardner is a flourishing village four miles west of
Ashburnham, to which the railroad has given a wonderful stimulus, though it has longtbeen a town of considerable importance, owing to its extensive manufacture of chairs. Though a small village, it has the lead
in this branch of industry of all the other towns in the
Commonwealth. Not much is seen of the village from
the railroad.   It is hidden among the hills on the
north of the track. This fact led a reckless passenger
to remark that Gardner was a very chary town. It is to
be hoped that he was immediately ejected from the car.
Just beyond Gardner the railroad crosses Miller's
River, a considerable stream emptying into the Connecticut above Turner's Falls. The railroad follows
the course of this river for the next forty miles, and
from this point onward the scenery owes much of its
attractiveness to the beauty of the river.   Winding
among the hills we meet a succession of picturesque
surprises, which cannot be described or pointed out,
but which the wide awake traveler will not be likely to
miss.
Temmpleton lies to the southward of the track.  This
town, like Westminster, was an original grant to certain persons who did service in King Philip's war or
to their heirs, and was known by the name of Narragansett No. 6 till I762, when it was incorporated with
the present name. 
POP-CORN WITH ATTIC SALT.
By this time the Pop-corn Man will have made his
appearance. Johnson is his name, but he is a better
looking and a much better natured man than the other
Johnson.   If you greet him with a gentle inclination of the head, he will stop by your side, take a
paper bag of crisp and flaky corn froun his capacious basket, shake a little salt into it from a small
glass caster, deftly twirl it round once or twice in
his fingers and pass it to you, discoursing all the
time, in the most fluent manner, of "fate, free-will,
foreknowledge absolute," or any other subject you
choose to open, and charging you for paper bag,
politeness, pop-corn and philosophy only five cents.
Cultivate Johnson; he will tell you much more than
this book knows about the country through which
you are passing, and make you feel that you are doing him a favor in giving him an opportunity to answer
questions.
Baldwinsville, a village in the town of Templeton,
detains us but a moment, and soon after we leave it
we have a fine view of Mount Monadnock in New
Hampshire, ten miles to the north.
South Royalston is the village on the railroad-old
Roy.lston being about five miles northward.  Several
pretty cascades in this vicinity are turned to good
account for manufacturing purposes.
Athol is a lively and enterprising town, of three
thousand inhabitants, on the western border of
Worcester County,- another remarkable instance of
the value of railroads in developing the resources
.29 
30    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
of the country.   Since the Vermont and Massachusetts Railroad was opened, this town has made
remarkable progress; its excellent water-power is put
to excellent use, and the wealth of the town has been
trebled.
Orange is another village nearly as large, rivalling
Athol in its activity and vigor. The manufacturing
interest is large already, and is constantly increasing.
Miller's River, which does the work of these smart
villages gives to the traveler many beautiful glimpses
of quiet pastoral beauty, as he hurries along its banks.
Wendell and Erving are feeling the impulse of the
railroad also, and in due time they will no doubt grow
into prominence and prosperity.
Grout's Corner is the terminus of the New London
Northern Railroad, running southward through Amherst, Belchertown, Palmer and other important towns
to New London in Connecticut. Here the Vermont
and Massachusetts Railroad branches,-one track going north to Brattleboro, the other, which we shall follow, passing westward to Greenfield. Grout's Corner
is making a commendable effort to live and thrive;
and though it has tried once before and failed, all
good people will wish it abundant success in its new
endeavor.   In this region there is abundance of
charming scenery. A beautiful mountain view is seen
-to the northward, before reaching Grout's Corner,blue hills in the distance, with a rolling country between. Just east of the depot, a deep and cool ravine
gives a bed to Miller's River, from which we part at 
ACROSS THE CONNECTICUT.
this point with regret, having found it for many miles
a charming traveling companion. Two or three miles
beyond Grout's Corner, a pretty little pond with
wooded shores smiles in at the car windows on the
northern side.
Montague is a fine old village, half a jnile south of
the railroad, and not visible from the cars. Soon after
leaving the station which bears this name, the train
emerges from a wooded bank upon a high, uncovered
bridge, with the broad, clear current of the Connecticut flowing beneath, and the glorious valley opening
like the Land of Promise to the northward and the
southward. After so many miles of hills and cliffs and
gorges, that tell of upheavals in the earth and forces
primeval that have tossed and rent and piled the solid
elements, how restful is the peace of this green valley
with its circlet of blue hills! Away yonder on the
right are the heights of Northfield and Bernardston;
southward the symmetrical cones of the Sunderland
hills; westward the rugged ridge of Rocky Mountain,
over which the Shelburne Mountains lift their heads,
and through which the Deerfield flows to its peaceful
wedlock with the Connecticut; and all the wide interval is goodly and fruitful meadow land, green with
grass or golden with grain. Quickly the train draws
its smoky line across this beautiful picture; crosses
the Deerfield; follows its path through the gorge it
has cleft through Rocky Mountain; pauses for a moment that we may gaze upon a new vision of splendor in the smiling meadows of old Deerfield, then
3I 
32    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
hurries on to the Greenfield station, where you and I,
good reader, are to rest awhile.
"Free carriage to the Mansion House!" That means
a good bed, a bountiful and sumptuous table, and a
genial host. "Free carriage to the American House 1 "
That tells of one who will give you-abundant welcome
and good cheer.   Pay your money and take your
choice! Rest and be thankful! 
CHAPTER II.
GREENFIELD AND THEREABOUTS.
EARLY HISTORY.
HIS good town of Greenfield, which, for the next
few days, will be our resting-place and base of
operations, lies on the northern verge of the famous
Deerfield meadows, in the angle between the Deerfield
and Connecticut Rivers, whose waters unite two miles
south-eastward from the Public Square. The Connecticut is hidden from the village by a greenstone
ridge extending from Fall River on the north to South
Deerfield, where it terminates in the well-known Sugar
Loaf Mountain.
The town was originally a part of Deerfield, and was
then called Green River. In I753 it received its' charter of incorporation. A dispute arose at this time concerning the boundary line between the towns, and concerning the use and improvement of certain sequestered
lands, which has occasioned no little strife and litigation. In the courts and the Legislature the battle has
been fought with great pertinacity; many hard words
2*
0 
34    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
have been spoken and much printer's ink has been
shed about it, and once, at least, it led to a slight unpleasantness with pitchforks between the-farmers of
the two different towns. The fact that these sequestered lands in dispute were for the use and behoof of
the gospel ministry makes the quarrel slightly ridiculous if not disgraceful. No longer ago than I850, the
boundary question was before the Massachusetts Legislature, but if it has been mooted since that day this
little book does not know of it.
The historic period of Greenfield was the early part
of the eighteenth century, while it was yet a part of
Deerfield; and when we come to trace the story of
Indian wars and incursions our path will frequently
cross this territory. In the War of the Revolution,
however, this town bore an honorable part.
"When the news of the battle of Lexington reached
Greenfield, the people assembled on the afternoon of
the same day, and formed a company of volunteers on
the spot choosing Benjamin Hastings captain.' Hastings, however became himself second in command,
yielding the first rank to Captain Timothy Childs, who,
he modestly said, was a man of greater experience
than himself. Aaron Davis was then chosen ensign,
and the next morning the company marched for Cambridge.   During the whole War of the Revolution
the people of this town took an active interest in its
progress and success, as is abundantly shown by the
numerous records of votes choosing committees ofcorrespondence and safety, approving the confederation
0 
PATRIOTISM AND PIETY.
of the United States, raising money for ammunition
and food, and hiring men for the army, as well as by
their prompt personal obedience to the calls for reenforcements."*
WAR RECORD.
The spirit of'76 again took possessionof the people
of Greenfield in i86i when President Lincoln's first
call for troops was issued.   Once more the bells were
rung, and the people assembled, eager to buckle on
the armor that their fathers had so nobly worn. From
one manufacturing establishment an entire company
volunteered, and the quota was speedily in marching
order. In the last war as well as in the first Greenfield has a full and honorable record.
CHURCHES AND PUBLIC BUILDINGS.
Going forth from our comfortable quarters at the
Mansion House or the American Hotel we find ourselves upon the Main street of the village.   Nearly
opposite the Mansion House is the Public Square, an
oblong space of half an acre surrounded by a low
wooden railing. The town has recently voted to build
an iron fence and to erect a Soldiers' Monument. The
most conspicuous object on the north side of the
square is the Orthodox Congregational Church, now
building of red sandstone.   The symmetry and the
solidity of the structure are the admiration of visitors
and the pride of the inhabitants.
The first minister of Greenfield was Rev. Edward
* Holland's Western Massachusetts: Vol. II., p. 37Z.
35 
36    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Billings, settled September 24, p753. The first meeting-house was built in I760, about a mile north of the
village on the Bernardston road.   Soon after the
meeting-house was built Rev. Roger Newton was
ordained as pastor of the church and continued in
this office until I8i6, when he died at the age of 79,
having had but this one pastorate of fifty-six years.
During the last three years of his ministry he had for
his colleague Rev. Gamaliel S. Olds, afterwards for a
long time professor of mathematics in Vermont University and in Amherst College.  In i8I7 the church
was divided; and the Second Society erected its new
edifice in I8i9 on the ground where the present
church is building.   The  old meeting-house stood
until i83I when it was taken down and a new one was
built by the First Society at Nash's Mills three-quarters of a mile west of the old site.
The Rev. Dan Huntington, the father of the Rev.
Frederick Dan Huntington, D. D., recently of Boston
and now bishop of Central New York preached for the
Second Society for some time after its organization,
though he was never settled as its pastor. The name
of Rev. P. C. Headley, well-known in literature, is
found among the recent ministers of this church.
Rev. Samuel H. Lee is the present pastor.
The Unitarian Church whose edifice is just above
on the opposite side of Main street was organized in
I825. Its first minister was Rev. Winthrop Bailey, and
its present pastor is Rev. John F. Moors.
The Episcopal Church was organized in i8i2. Its 
" WHERE IS THE CITY?"
excellent house of worship stands on Federal street,
Rev. P. V. Finch is the rector.
The Methodist Church was organized in I835.  You
notice its edifice on Church street, north of Main.
The Baptist Church, organized in 1852 and ministered to at present by Rev. D. M. Grant, has its local
habitation on Main street west of the Square.
The Romrnan Catholic Church, whose pastor is Rev.
Mr. Robinson, is about to erect a new church on Main
street.
People stopping in Greenfield over Sunday may
therefore even if they are not, like Mrs.  artington, so
Catholic in their sentiments as to be satisfied with
"any paradox church where the gospel is dispensed
with," find a plaI of worship where their preferences
will be gratified.
Next door to the Orthodox Church, on the Public
Square, stands the Court House,-Greenfield being
the shire town of Franklin County.   The contiguity
of these two edifices is suggestive, and a short intermission will be given, at this point, to all those persons
whQ want to go out and make puns about them.
On the eastern side of the Square is the Post Office,
and just below the Square, on the south side of Main
street, is the Town Hall, a fine brick structure.  The
Jail, standing on a side street south-east from the
Square, is one of the best buildings in town. On
Chapman street is the High School, and on Federal
street the Greenfield Institute for Young Ladies, under
the care of the Misses Stone,-an institution which for
37 
8    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
many years has borne an excellent name. The education of the young probably costs more than it did in
1753, when this town voted to pay teachers two shillings a day for the summer and one shilling and fourpence for the fall.
Some members of the illustriofs Gradgrind family
are always found in every company of tourists. They
do not approve of mountains and waterfalls, but they
would enjoy a visit to an establishment which has not
only a national, but an European reputation,
THE RUSSELL MANUFACTURING COMPANY.
Up to the year I84I, the table cutlery used in the
United States was almost all of English manufacture.
No competition with the great Sheffield manufactories
had been attempted, and it was supposed that such an
attempt would not be successful. But in that year,
Mr. John Russell, who for seven years had been manufacturing edge tools on the Green River, in this village,
and who had during this time made some table cutlery
with considerable success, resolved to turn his attention
to the exclusive manufacture of the latter class of goods.
From that beginning has grown this large establishment,-the largest of its class in the world, making
cutlery which the Sheffield manufacturers confess to
be superior to theirs, and affording it at prices so
reasonable that it controls the American market. This
result has been attained by the superior mechanical
skill and inventive genius of Mr. Russell and those who
have wrought with him. Many curious machines, by 
HOW THEY MAKE KNIVES AND FORKS.  39
which the labor of production is greatly facilitated,
were invented here, and are not fq.d in operation
elsewhere. Almost all the work of these shops is done
by machinery; and low as are the wages of Sheffield
mechanics, the Yankee machines will work cheaper
and better than they.   Moreover, the machines are
never known to go off "on a tear," and though some
of them strike pretty frequently, the work never stops
on that account.
"Among these curious machines is an arrangement
of screw-frames and heated dies for the purpose of
giving form and hardness to the apple-wood handles
which are put upon some styles of knives. The comparatively soft apple-wood, by being thus subjected to
an immense pressure, is made to take the place of
ebony, rosewood, cocoa or granadilla wood; at the
same time the brass rivets are headed, and a beautiful
handle is the result. By an ingenious arrangement
of circular saws and endless chains, a machine has
been contrived for the purpose of sawing out bone and
ivory handles as fast as a man can clap the pieces on
the machine. Another instrument drills the holes in
the handles; another one cuts the tines of the forks;
another bends the tines to their proper shape; another
straightens and levels the blade of the knife at one
stroke; still another cuts the blade from the piece of
steel which has been formed ready for use."*
Nearly all the forging is done by steam. Twelve
*New  York Evening Mrail.  This quotation, and many of the facts here
presented, were taken from an article in that newspaper.
0 
40    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
trip-hammers make titanic music all day long. In the
grinding and palhing shops, whose flooring is about
half an acre in extent, one hundred and forty grinders
are at work upon seventy grindstones; and there are
one hundred men employed on the emery wheels.
These wheels are made of wood, cbvered with leather,
dressed with wax, and rolled in emery dust. The
emery is of various grades of fineness; the coarsest,
which is used for grinding the wooden handle, being
in grains as large as coarse meal or hominy, the finest,
which is used only for polishing, being fine as flour.
One building is devoted to the tempering of the
knives. The blade is first heated red hot and dipped
into oil; this makes it exceedingly brittle.  It is then
laid upon iron plates covered with sand over a coal
fire, and the heat changes the color first to gray, then
to straw color, then to pink, then to blue. The workman judges of the temper by his eye. One man can
temper about twenty-five hundred blades in a day.
The new silver-plated knife, with both handle and
blade of steel, is made at these works.
The Green River supplies three water-wheels with
one hundred and twenty-five horse power; two steam
engines, with a total of three hundred and fifty horse
power, do the rest of the work.   Five hundred men
and twenty women earn a little more than twenty
thousand dollars a month.
England and America supply this company annually with six hundred tons of steel; the West Indies
contribute three hundred thousand pounds of cocoa
0 
WHERE THEY GET THE MATERIALS.   41I
and granadilla wood; California sends sixty thousand
pounds of rose-wood; Madagascar a hundred thousand
pounds of ebony; Africa forty thousand pounds of
elephants' tusks; Smyrna fifty thousand pounds of
emery; Nova Scotia four hundred thousand pounds
of grindstones; Connecticut thirty thousand pounds of
brass wire; Pennsylvania two thousand tons of anthracite coal; Massachusetts and Vermont twenty-five
thousand bushels of charcoal; and the Yankee bees,
who are not less busy than other bees, have a yearly
contract for supplying twenty-five hundred pounds of
wax.
With this material, the Green River Works turn out
every day one thousand dozen of table cutlery, one
hundred dozen ivory-handled ware, and two hundred
and fifty dozen of miscellaneous goods.
Of the other manufacturing establishments of Greenfield we cannot speak at length.   We have tarried
long enough among the things that man has made.
Let us go and look at the house of a better Builder.
Being a little weary with car-riding, we propose to rest
ourselves with a walk, this fine evening, to look upon
the landscape and enjoy the sunset from
THE POET'S SEAT.
Up Main street under a canopy of elms and maples,
to the end of the street where a guide-board points us
into a road leading to Montague, bearing to the right,
and passing round the elegant residence of Judge
Grinnell. The highway winding up the hill gives us 
42    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
some glimpses of scenery, but prudently keeps from
us the glories to be revealed when we reach the top.
There, at the summit, we turn to the left, into a bushy
pasture, and suddenly the landscape is unveiled. We
are standing now on Rocky Mountain, looking eastward; the Deerfield Valley, out of which we have ascended, is behind us, and is hidden from view by the
hill, over the crest of which we have passed; the
Connecticut River and its valley are before us. A
little way to the south the Deerfield River breaks
through the ridge on which we are standing and flows
down through the meadow to mingle its waters with
those of the Connecticut. To the northward we catch
a glimpse of Turner's Falls, and the racing rapids
below them; across the valley to the north-eastward
in the distant horizon rises Mount Grace in the town
of Warwick;-southward is Mount Toby in Sunderland; other lesser eminences complete the horizon,
and encircle a scene most fair. Directly across the
river is Montague City, reached by the bridge which
spans the Connecticut at this point and greatly adds
to the beauty of the picture. On the little island at
our feet a musket was dug up not long ago, which
may very likely have belonged to one of those Indians
who went down the rapids in the Falls fight, about
which we shall know more by and by. In the meadow
just below us is a sulphur spring the water of which
tastes bad enough to be very medicinal. Good Mr.
Philo Temple, who owns the meadow says that the
spring has had its ups and downs for a hundred and 
THE POET'S VISION.
fifty -years; sometimes being highly extolled for its
healing virtues and sometimes entirely neglected Just
now it is out of fashion, and therefore we will give it
none of our patronage.
When you have rested and feasted your eyes upon
this landscape long enough, we will turn Into this welltrodden path running northward alongthe Ridge, keeping the same prospect in view for a third of a mile,
when the path passes over the crest and opens to
us another scene scarcely less beautiful, on the western side of the Ridge.  On the brink of thislteep,
rocky wall, where we are standing, is the niche in the
rock long known as the Poet's Seat. It is not generally supposed, in the neighborhood of Greenfield, that
all the people who have sat in this seat are poets, or
that sitting here is sure to make a poet out of a common man; however, if any one chooses to try it, there
is no impediment.   No one but a poet ought to attempt to describe the vision which is here brought
before us. At our feet Greenfield and the valley of
the Green River, flanked by the hills of Leyden and
Shelburne; to the south Old Deerfield, hidden among
its elms; over against it, in the boundary between
Deerfield and Conway, Arthur's Seat, a noble mountain; in the middle of the picture the enchanting meadows of the Deerfield, with their many-figured, manytinted carpeting. Upon this sloping bank let us sit
down, while the shadows creep stealthily, as once the
red man crept, eastward across the valley at our feet;
while the clouds above the Shelburne hills change to
43 
44    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
gold and amber and crimson and purple; while the
robin in the branches overhead sings his vesper song,
and the evening star shines out in the west; then silently, as the twilight fades, we will rise and seek the
path that will lead us quickly down from this mount of
beautiful vision.
.
"Black shadows fall
From the lindens tall
That lift aloft their massive wall
Against the southern sky;
"And from the realms
Of the shadowy elms,
A tide-like darkness overwhelms
The fields that round us lie.
"But the night is fair,
And everywhere
A warm soft vapor fills the air,
And distant sounds seem near;
"And above, in the light
Of the star-lit night,
Swift birds of passage wing their flight
Through the dewy atmosphere."
We went, as was meet, to the Poet's Seat last eventide; this morning a place with a name something less
romantic will be the destination of our walk:
THE BEAR'S DEN.
We follow Main street again to the end, turn again
into the Montague road, and a few rods beyond the
residence of Judge Grinnell we take a well-trodden
path, which leads through a beautiful pasture on the 
THE SAME OLD CLAM-SHELL._
right of the highway.   Following this path for about
a mile, with a bright panorama nearly all the while in
view, we come to the southern end of Rocky Mountain, where the Deerfield River pierces the barrier and
descends into the Connecticut Valley. Tradition says
that this Deerfield Valley was once a lalte brimful of
water to the top of this hill, and that a squaw, with a
clam-shell, scraped away the earth at this point for the
water to flow over into the Connecticut Valley, thus
opening a channel which the water has worn till it has
cut the mountain in two and emptied the lake. Undoubtedly the valley was once a lake, and the water
has worn this channel; but the squaw and her clamshell are mildly apocryphal.   This is not the only
place where they have done duty. The same story is
told, unless we forget, of the parting between Tom and
Holyoke through which the Connecticut River runs;
and upon the banks of every old water basin in the
land that has been drained, tradition has perched the
same old squaw with her clam-shell. Standing at this
point, both valleys are seen, and the view is beautiful
in both directions. The wagon-bridge, which crosses
the Deerfield River just above us, was built as a tollbridge in I798, and its charter ran seventy years; in
November, i868, it became free, and passed into the
possession of the town of Deerfield.
The railroad bridge, which stands above it, by which
the Connecticut River Railroad crosses the Deerfield
River, is seven hundred and fifty feet in length, and
ninety feet above the water. On the morning of July
45 
46    FROM THIE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
I 7, i864, during the draft riots, the bridge which stood
where this one stands was burnt,-with what purpose
is not quite clear. It was supposed at the time that
the object was to call the people and the fire depart ment away from Greenfield, when the town was to have
been set on fire. If this was the intent of the incendi ary, he failed in his purpose, for the citizens stood by
their own stuff, and let the bridge burn.
The Bear's Den is a rough and steep ravine with a
sort of cavern at the southern extremity of this hill,
up which ardent and adventurous youth sometimes
clamber.   Sitting in the Poet's Seat will not make a
man a poet, but climbing up the Bear's Den is very
likely to make a man as hungry as a bear. If any one
lacks appetite, therefore, let him make the experiment;
while those of us who do not need this kind of sharpening will at once descend to dinner.
Those who are not vigorous enough to make these
longer tramps of which we have been talking will find
it a pleasant walk to the end of Congress street, leading directly south from the head of Main street. The
western view from this point is very beautiful.
The drives about Greenfield are no less inviting
than the walks, and first among them for interest is
the drive to
OLD DEERFIELD.
In order that we may fully appreciate the scenes
upon which we shall look, we will study for a.little
while, before we start, the eatrly history of this famous
old town. Originally Deerfield embraced within its 
THE SPIES AND THE PROMISED LAND. 47
limits the present towns of Conway, Shelburne, Greenfield and Gill; and its settlement was on this wise.
Eliot, the celebrated Indian apostle, after some years
of labor among the red men, reached a conclusion not
unlike that which has lately found expression in the
President's Message,-that civilization and citizenship
were indispensable to the Christianization of the Indians. He therefore in I65I asked the General Court
for two thousand acres of land at Natick, then a part
of Dedham, upon which he might found an Indian
community.   This reasonable request was granted.
As a recompense for the lands thus taken away the
General Court in i663 voted that the town of Dedham
might select for itself eight thousand acres of unoccupied land anywhere within the province.   In the
same year messengers were sent out to locate the
land. They traveled as far west as Lancaster, to the
Chestnut Hills; and very likely climbed to the top of
Wachusett, from which the country was visible for
many miles on either side.   They returned and reported that the land was rough and uneven, offering
few inducements to pioneers.  The next spring an old
hunter told the people of Dedham that there was land
worth possessing on the Connecticut River, north of
Hadley.    Immediately they appointed one of their
number to go with him and spy out the land. The
report they brought back was so favorable that four
men were commissioned to proceed to the spot and
locate the land.   They journeyed westward through
the unbroken forest, till they reached the Connecticut 
48    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Valley which they crossed not far below the mouth of
the Deerfield, and climbed to the top of the rocky
ridge separating the two valleys, when a scene was
presented to their eyes fairer than any they had be held on this Continent. The wide valley then as now
was green with verdure; no forests had grown since
the ancient lake was drained; the course of the Deer field was marked by thickets that grew upon its banks;
thousands of acres of smooth and fruitful land rudely
planted by the red man were waiting for a better cul tivation. No wonder that these good Puritans gave
vent to their joy in fervent and Scriptural thanksgiving.
They at once proceeded to locate their eight thousand
acres with excellent judgment, selecting what proved
to be the best land in the region. Shortly thereafter,
Major Pynchon of Springfield purchased this land of
the Indians for the people of Dedham, paying therefor ~94, ios. The deeds by which the property was
originally conveyed are now in the archives of the
town of Deerfield. The date of the first settlement is
not quite certain.   It has commonly been fixed at
I671 or i672; but some of the later students of the
old history are inclined to place it as far back as
I669;-just two hundred years ago. At this time the
only settlements of white men in this region were
those of Hadley, Hatfield, Northampton and Springfield. Until the year i675 these settlers dwelt in
peace and security; then began the long train of conflicts and calamities which has no parallel in the
pioneer history of any community in our country.
i 
KING PHILIP'S WAR.
Massasoit, the Indian sachem who welcomed the
Pilgrims to Plymouth, and proved himself, during his
whole life, a trusty friend of the white man, was suc ceeded by his son Philip, a chief of a very different
temper.   Perceiving that the English were gaining
rapidly in numbers and influence, and tlat the empire
of the red man was in danger, he formed the various
Indian tribes of New England into an alliance for the
purpose of exterminating the whites. Hostilities began
in the year I675; and the first serious cqontest in Western Massachusetts was in Brookfield, in July of that
year, where an ambuscade, a siege and a conflagration
signalized the ferocity of the savages. The Pocumtuck
Indians, whose hunting grounds were in this valley,
at first professed hostility to Philip; but shortly after
the siege of Brookfield, the wily sachem found his way
into this region, and won their allegiance. At this time
Hadley was the head-quarters of the English forces,
and about one hundred and eighty men were then
in garrison, under Captains Beers and Lathrop. The
treachery of the Indians in this vicinity being suspected, they were ordered to deliver up their arms.
This they promised to do; but on the night of the
25th of August, before their arms had been given up,
they secretly left their quarters and fled up the river.
Beers and Lathrop pursued them the next day, overtook and attacked teem in South Deerfield, near the
base of Sugar Loaf Mountain, and killed twenty-six of
them, the remainder making good their escape to the
camp of Philip, which was somewhere in the vicinity.
3
49 
50      FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Ten of the English soldiers fell in this battle. One
week afterward the Indians attacked the settlers in
Deerfield, killed one of them, and burnt nearly all the
houses in the little settlement. This was the ist of
September, i675. But the settlement was not abandoned. A garrison was established here, and Captain
Momely was made Commandant. In the fields around
Deerfield a large amount of wheat had been harvested
and stacked. The winter was approaching, and this
wheat must be secured before the Indians destroyed
it. Accordingly, Captain Lathrop, with eighty soldiers
and a large number of teams and drivers, were sent to
thrash the grain and bring it to Hadley. They proceeded to Deerfield, thrashed and loaded the grain
without molestation, and the i8th of September began
their return march to Hadley. The rest of the story
shall be told by General Hoyt, whose valuable History of the Indian Wars, now out of print, is the standard authority upon the early history of this region:  "For the distance of about three miles after leaving
Deerfield Meadow, Lathrop's march lay through a very
level country, closely wooded, where he was every moment exposed to an attack on either flank. At the
termination of this distance, near the south point of
Szigar Loaf Hill, the road approximated Connecticut
River, and the left was in some measure protected. At
the village now called Mu/ddy Brook, in the southerly
part of Deerfield, the road crossed a small stream,
bordered by a narrow morass, from which the village
has its name; though, more appropriately, it should 
THE  MASSACRE AT BLOODY BROOK.               51
be denominated Bloody Brook, by which it was for
some time known.* Before arriving at the point of
intersection with the brook, the road for about half a
mile ran parallel to the morass, then crossing it continued to the south point of Sugar Loaf Hill, traversing
what is now the home-lots on the east side of the village. As the morass was thickly covered with brush,
this place of crossing afforded a favorable point for
surprise.
"On discovering Lathrop's march, a body of upwards of seven hundred Indianst planted themselves
in ambuscade at this point, and lay eagerly waiting to
pounce upon him while passing the m(rass.  Without
scouring the woods in his front and flanks, or suspecting the snare laid for him, Lathrop arrived at the fatal
spot; crossed the morass with the principal part of his
force, and probably halted to allow time for his teams
to drag through their loads. The critical moment had
arrived. The Indians instantly poured a heavy and
destructive fire upon the column and rushed furiously
to close attack.   Confusion and  dismay succeeded.
The troops broke and scattered,. fiercely pursued by
the Indians whose great superiority [in numbers]
enabled them to attack at all points. Hopeless was
the situation of the scattered troops, and they resolved
to sell their lives in a vigorous struggle. Covering
themselves with trees the bloody conflict now became
* This suggestion of General Hoyt was adopted, and the stream is now
known as Bloody Brook.
t Probably commanded by Philip himself. 
52    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
a severe trial of skill in sharp shooting, in which life
was the stake. Difficult would it be to describe the
havoc, barbarity and misery that ensued;'Fury raged,
and shuddering pity quit the sanguine field,' while desperation stood pitted,'at fearful odds' to unrelenting
ferocity. The dead, the dying, the, wounded strewed
the ground in all directions, and  Lathrop's devoted
force was soon reduced to a small number, and resistance became' faint.   At length the unequal struggle
terminated in the annihilation of nearly the whole of
the English; only seven or eight escaped from the
bloody scene to relate the dismal tale, and the wounded
were indiscriminately butchered.  Captain Lathrop fell
in the early part of the action; the whole loss, including teamsters, amounted to ninety. The company was
a choice corps of young men from the county of Essex
in Massachusetts; many from the most respectable
families. Hubbard says'they were the flower of the
county; none of whom were ashamed to speak with
the enemy in the gate.' Captain Lathrop was from
Salem, Massachusetts.
"Captain Mosely, at Deerfield, between four and
five miles distant, hearing the musketry, made a rapid
march for the relief of Lathrop, and arriving at the
close of the struggle found the Indians stripping and
mangling the dead. Promptly rushing on, in compact
order, he broke through the enemy, and charging back
and forth, cut down all within the range of his shot;
and at length drove the remainder through the adjacent
swamp, and another farther west, and after several 
DELENDA EST DEERFIELD.
hours of gallant  fighting compelled them to seek
safety in the more distant forests.
"Just at the close of the action, Major Treat (then
commanding the garrison at Hadley,) who, on the
morning of the day, had marched toward Northfield,
arrived on the ground with one hundred men, and
shared in the final pursuit of the enemy. The gallant
Mosely lost but two men in the various attacks, and
seven or eight only were wounded.   Probably the
Indians had expended most of their ammunition in
the action with Lathrop, and occasionally fought with
their bows and spears." 
That night Mosely and Treat, with their men, slept
in the garrison at Deerfield, and the next morning
they returned to bury their dead.   The number of
Indians killed in the two engagements was ninety-six.
Shortly after this, it became evident that the post of
Deerfield could only be held with the greatest difficulty.
The garrison was therefore withdrawn to Hadley, and
what was left of the little town was entirely destroyed
by the savages.
It is not quite certain at what date the settlers returned to rebuild the ruined village.   Philip's War
continued till the spring of I678, when a peace was
concluded; but the power of the red men was broken
in the Connecticut Valley at an earlier date. In the
autumn of i677, we find'the people erecting dwellings
and preparing for the coming winter. On the i9th of
September, in that year, a party of about fifty Indians,
who had descended the Connecticut River from Cana
53 
4l
54    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
da, and had made a successful assault upon the garrison of Hatfield, halted on their return in the woods
east of Deerfield, entered the town about night-fall,
killed one man and captured three others, whom they
took with them to Canada. This calamity alarmed
the good people of Deerfield, and they again deserted
their plantation. But after the fall of Philip and the
conclusion of peace, the Indians abandoned the territory, and the whites were left for a time in undisturbed
possession.
Ten years of peace were now granted to the distracted settlers of the Connecticut Valley. These fruitful meadows of the Deerfield again gave seed to the
sower and bread to the eater; the village was rebuilt,
and the people began to hope that their calamities
were past.   But in the year i689, the accession of
William and Mary to the throne of England was followed by that war between England and France
known  in these colonies as King  William's War.
The gage of battle was taken up by the French and
English colonists of North America; and the settlers
of this region were again for five years harassed by
constant apprehensions of attack from the French and
their allies, the Indians.   Several slight skirmishes
with the Indians took place, but no very severe calamity befell the little town during this war, which
closed with the peace of Ryswick, in I69I. In I689
a fort was built, doubtless as a defence against expected incursions of the savages. This was a stockaded enclosure, more than two hundred rods in circum 
MEETING-HOUSE AND SCHOOL-HOUSE.  55
ference, and containing about fifteen acres.   Somewhere within this enclosure, the boundaries of which
we can fix with some degree of certainty as we ride
through the village, stood the first meeting-house, built
probably of logs. October 3o, I694, we find the town
voting,
"That a Meeting-House shall be built ye bignesse of Hatfield
Meeting-House, only ye height to be left to ye judgment and
determination of ye Committy.
"That there shall be a rate made of one hundred and forty
pounds, payable the present year in Pork and Indian Corn, in
equall proportions, for ye carrying on ye building."
Not only religion, but education was the earliest cate
of these wise pioneers.   The next year this vote is recorded:
"That a school-house be built upon the town charge in ye
year I695, ye dimensions of said house to be 2I foot long and I8
foot wide and 7 between joynts."
The school-house and the meeting-house both stood
within the limits of the fort.
The democracy of these days was by no means the
most radical variety, as the following votes in townmeeting bear witness:
"May  Is, I70I, Voted that Dea. Hunt, Dea. Sheldon, Mr.
John Catlen, Edward Allyn and Thomas French, shall be ye
seaters for ye seating of ye new Meeting-House.  That ye rules
for ye seating of persons shall be Age, State and Dignity.
"Oct. 2, I701I, Voted that ye fore seats in ye front Gallery
shall be equal in Dignity with ye 2nd seat in ye body of ye
Meeting-House. 
FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
"That ye fore seats in ye side Gallery be equal with ye 4th
seats in ye Body of ye Meeting-House.
"That ye 2nd seat in ye front Gallery and ye hinder seat in
ye front Gallery shall be equal in Dignity with ye 5th seat in
ye Body.
"That ye second seat in ye side Gallery shall be esteemed
equal in Dignity with ye 6th in ye Body of the Meeting-House."
The minister at this time was Rev. John Williams,
a graduate of Harvard College, who was settled in
i686, being then in his twenty-second year. The following is the agreement between him and his people,
copied from the early records of the town:  "The inhabitants of Deerfield, to encourage Mr. John Williams
to settle amongst them to dispense the blessed word of truth
unto them, have made propositions unto him as followeth:  "That they will give him sixteen cow commons of meadow
land, with a house lot that lyeth on the meeting-house hill; that
they will build him a house forty-two feet long, twenty feet wide,
with a lento on the back side of the house; to finish said house,
to fence his home-lot, and within two year after this agreement to build him a barn and break up his plowing land. For
yearly salary to give him sixty pounds a year for the present,
and four or five years after this agreement to add to his salary
and make it eighty pounds."
There was a further agreement between Mr. Williams and the town relative to his salary in i696, the
terms of which we find recorded by Mr. Williams himself:
"The town to pay their salary to me in wheat, pease, Indian
corn, and pork at the price stated, viz: wheat at 3s. 3d. per
bushel, Indian corn at 2s. per bushel, fatted pork at 2d. I-2 per lb.;
these being the terms of the bargain made with me at the first.
(Signed)               "JOHN WILLIAMS."
56 
THE STORM IS GATHERING.
These old records illustrate for us the life of the
early settlers during the years of comparative peace
and plenty which closed the seventeenth century; and
they show that the village, though annoyed by the war,
was hardly interrupted in its growth. On the death of
King William and the accession of Que,,en Anne, in
1702, another war broke out between England and
France, which brought to these good people of Deerfield hardships greater than any they had yet suffered.
At this time Deerfield had grown to be quite a village;
there must have been a population of between two and
three hundred souls, and several comfortable framed
houses had been built, both within and without the
fort. Deerfield was the frontier town on the north,
the few inhabitants of Northfield having been driven
from their homes during King William's War.  On the
breaking out of Queen Anne's War, in 1702, the purpose of the French to sack this town was discovered;
the fort was repaired by the inhabitants, and twenty
soldiers were sent by the Governor as a guard.
And now the last and worst of their calamities was
ready to be visited upon them. On the night of the
twenty-ninth of-February I704, Major Hertel de Rouville, with sixteen hundred French and one hundred
and forty Indians, arrived at what is now known as
Pettis' Plain,-a short distance south-west from the
village of Greenfield, and two miles from the fort at
Deerfield, having made a toilsome march of between
two and three hundred miles, through a deep snow.
Here he halted, ordered his men to lay aside their
3*
57
4  
58    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
packs and snow-shoes, and prepare for an assault
upon the fort. Crossing the Deerfield River a little
before daybreak, he took up a rapid march on the
stiff crust of the snow across the meadow. Fearing
that the noise of the marching might give the alarm,
he ordered frequent halts, in which. the whole force lay
still for a few moments, and then rising, rushed on at
the double quick.   These alternations of noise and
silence, would he supposed, be mistaken by the sentinels for gusts of wind followed by moments of calm.
It was a clever ruse, but hardly necessary, for the sentinels were asleep. On the north-west corner of the
ft the snow had been drifted nearly to the top of the
stockade, and over the bridge thus provided for them
the whole force gained an easy entrance, and found the
whole garrison asleep. Quietly they now divided themselves into parties, and began the assault. The doors
were broken open, the people were d.ragged from their
beds, and all who offered resistance were slaughtered.
The house of Mr. Williams was one of the first assaulted. Awakened from a sound sleep he sprang
from his bed and ran toward the door, but the Indians
had already entered. Quickly returning to his couch
he seized a pistol there secreted, and aimed it at the
foremost Indian, but it missed fire.  Instantly he was
seized and pinioned, and made to await the brutal
pleasure of his captors.   Two of his young children
and his negro woman were taken to the door and
murdered before his eyes. His wife and five children
were made captives with him. 
THE OLD INDIAN HOUSE.
The door of Captain John Sheldon's house was so
securely fastened that they could not force it open.
With their hatchets they succeeded in cutting a small
hole through the double thickness of plank, and thrusting a musket through they fired and killed Mrs. Sheldon who was just rising from her bed. The house was
captured and used as a place of confinement for the
prisoners. Another house about fifty yards south-west
of Sheldon's was repeatedly attacked but was defended
by seven men who poured a destructive fire from windows and loop-holes. The bullets that kept the foe at
bay were cast by brave women while the fight was
going on; a fact which Lucy Stone may use with excellent effect when she makes her next speech in the
Connecticut Valley.
Another house outside the fort, surrounded by a
circle of palisades, was successfully defended, with
some loss to the assailants.
Before eight o'clock in the morning, the work of
destruction and pillage was complete, and Rouville
collected his prisoners and his booty, and set out on
his return. Possibly his steps were hastened by the
arrival of a party from Hatfield, whither the news of
the assault had been carried by a fugitive.   This
small and late re-enforcement, being joined by the
people who had defended the two houses, and a few
others who had escaped into the woods, pursued the
enemy into the meadow, and gallantly attacked them;
but being outnumbered and almost surrounded, they
were compelled to retreat, and the invaders marched
59
I' 
60      FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
away with their captives and their plunder.  One hundred and twelve persons of both sexes and all ages
were made prisoners; the slain, including those who
fell in the fight in the meadows, numbered forty-seven,
and the loss of the enemy was about the same number. Fourteen of the captives,-probably infants and
infirm persons,-were killed by the Indians during
the first day's march, which was not more than four
miles. Two of them escaped, and Mr. Williams was
instructed to inform the prisoners that if any more
escapes were attempted, death by fire would be the
portion of the rest.   A full and graphic account of
this sad journey, and the exile in Canada which succeeded it, may be found in a little book written by
Mr. Williams, and entitled, "The Redeemed Captive
Returning to Zion." The first day, he tells us, he was
separated from his wife, who was in feeble health;
the second day he was permitted to speak with her, and
for a time to assist her on her journey; but at length
her strength failed, and he was forced to leave her
behind. The Indian to whose tender mercies she was
left, finding her unable to travel further, despatched
her with his tomahawk. Not long after, a party from
Deerfield, following the trail of the Indians, found her
dead body, and brought it back to Deerfield and buried
it. By slow and weary marches through the deep snow,
the prisoners finally arrived in Canada.   It appears
that they were regarded as the property of their Indian
captors; and though some of them were purchased by
the French inhabitants, the greater part were retained 
THE CAPTIVES REDEEMED.
by the Indians at their lodges in different parts of the
country. Mr. Williams was set at liberty by Governor
Vaudreuil, and by great exertions succeeded in procuring the release of all his children but one, Eunice, a
girl of ten years. In I 706 a flag-ship, sent from Boston to Quebec, returned with Mr. Williams, four of his
children and fifty-two other redeemed captives. Eunice
Williams was left behind, grew up among the Indians,
forgot her language, married an Indian who assumed
her name, reared up a large family, and died at length
a Romanist in an Indian cabin. Three times during
her life, attended by her tawny spouse, and attired in
Indian costume, she visited her friends in Massachusetts; but they could not persuade her to forsake her
home or to forswear her faith. Eleazer Williams, the
pretended Dauphin of France, was her grandson.
The little party that bravely followed and assailed
the invaders, found, on returning to the smoking ruins
of the little village, that not much of it was left. Hoyt
tells us that, "excepting the meeting-house and Sheldon's, which was the last fired, and saved by the English who assembled immediately after the enemy left
the place all [the buildings] within the fort were consumed by fire. That which was so bravely defended
by the seven men accidentally took fire and was consumed while they were engaged in the meadow." But
this statement is now disputed. It is supposed that
seven or eight houses remained after the burning, and
some of them are yet standing. We shall see them
as we ride through the village.
6I 
62    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
The house of Sheldon stood with but little alteration
until 1849, when it was removed to make way for a more
modern structure. The old door, which the Indians
pierced with their tomahawks was still upon its hinges
when the house was taken down, and it was preserved
as a relic by Mr. Hoyt, the owner 6f the house. Some
years afterward it passed into other hands, and at
length in i863, the citizens of the town learned with
great regret that it had been purchased and carried
away to Newton, by Dr. D. D. Slade. Negotiations
were immediately opened with the worthy doctor, who
at first refused to part with it; but finally, in i867, he
wrote to the committee that after thinking the matter
over he had concluded that the door belonged to Deerfield; and upon receipt of the amount which it had cost
him, he would return it to the town. Whereupon, a fair
was held, the money was raised, and the pe6ple celebrated the return of the door with a festival, a speech by
Rev. J. F. Moors of Greenfield, and a poem by Josiah
D. Canning, Esq., of Gill, well known in this region
as the "Peasant Bard." Here are some of his verses:
"Here where you stood in those dark days of yore,
And did brave duty as a Bolted Door;
Where you withstood the Indians' fiendish rage
Who on yon tablet, scored a bloody page;
Where you survived the havoc and the flame,
And float Time's tide to-day, a Door of Fame;
Here where for long decades of years gone down
You've served attractor to this grand old Town,
Made for yourself and physics one name more,For thou hast been, shalt be, Attraction's Door;
11 
A HYMN OF ADORATION.
Here where years since, a wonder-loving boy,
I first beheld thee with a solemn joy,
Gazed on thy silent face but speaking scars,
And dreamed of "auld lang syne" and Indian wars;
Door of the Past, thou wast indeed to me
And Door of Deerfield thou shalt ever be!
Here grim old relic! thou shalt aye repose
By keepers guarded, unassailed by foes;
Stronger in age than most doors in their prime,
The Indian's hatchet and the scythe of Time
Thou hast defied; and though no more for harm,
'Gainst thee the painted warrior nerves his arm,
Still shalt defy the blade of Time so keen,
Till he his scythe shall change for the machine.
"Bless thee, old relic! old and brave and scar'd!
.And bless Old Deerfield! says her grandson bard.
Towns may traditions have, by error spun,
She has the Door of History,-here's the one!"
The old door is now enclosed in a handsome chestnut
frame, and hung in the hall of the Pocumtuck House,
where it is easily accessible to visitors: but it might
find a better resting-place. Deerfield ought to have a
Memorial Hall, into which its relics and its archives
might be gathered. A large and valuable collection
would soon be obtained; no town in the country, except Old Plymouth, has greater need of such a building. Some of the rich men of the cities, whose genealogical tree sprouted in these historic meadows, ought
to set this enterprise in motion without delay.
The terrible calamity just narrated did not destroy
the courage of this heroic people. Those who were
left determined to maintain their plantations. When
63 
64    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Mr. Williams returned to Boston in the flag-ship in
i706, he was met by a committee from Deerfield who
invited him to return to his former charge; and though
he had received some propositions from a church in
the neighborhood of Boston, the brave man went back
to the perils of the border, saying,,"I must return and
look after my sheep in the wilderness." Here he was
content to live and labor, and here, after a ministry of
forty-three years he was gathered to his rest. A stone
in thie old burying-ground marks the place where his
ashes repose.
During the years that intervened between the destruction of the town in I 704, and the treaty of Utrecht,
in I713, Indian depredations and murders were' frequent. Then the land had rest, for a season, and
prosperity returned to the homes and the fields of the
Deerfield farmers.:
Again, in I744, when many of the heroes of the
former conflicts had passed away, war broke out between England and France, and its threatening shadow
fell once more upon this peaceful valley. On the 25th
of August, I746, a party of laborers were assailed by
the savages at a point in the south meadow known as
"The Bars;" several of them were killed and others
carried into captivity.   Eunice Allen, then a young
girl, was pursued by an Indian who plunged his tomahawk into her skull and left her for dead; but she recovered from the frightful wound and lived to be more
than eighty years old.  This was the last serious collision with the Indians in the history of Deerfield. 
NOBLES AND NOTABLES.
Single persons were killed and captured after this time,
but nothing occurred which amounted to a disturbance
of the tranquillity of the town.
From the hardy men who fought these battles a
worthy progeny has sprung, among whom many eminent names are found. Ephraim Williams, Esq., an
eminent jurist, and the first reporter of the decisions
of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, was born
here, in I760, married at the age of sixty, and his son
-the child of his old age, is the revered and trusted
Episcopal bishop of Connecticut. Richard Hildreth,
the historian, President Hitchcock of Amherst College, and General Rufus Saxton, all belong by birth
to Deerfield. General Epaphras Hoyt, the author of
the history upon which liberal drafts have been made
in the preparation of this sketchl, lived and died in this
town. His book is a monument of research, fidelity
and literary skill.
Having put ourselves in possession of some of the
important facts in the history of this old town we are
now prepared to appreciate and enjoy the things we
shall see. The road leads southward from the Public
Square past the shops of the Russell Manufacturing
Company, under the high bridge of the Troy and
Greenfield Railroad spanning Green River, through
Cheapside, under the bridge of the Connecticut River
Railroad, crossing Deerfield River, upon which we
looked down from the Bear's Den; across the old
wagon bridge, where toll is no longer demanded, and
along the eastern border of the Deerfield Meadows.
65 
66    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
The owners of two thousand acres of these meadows
were for a long time members of a corporation known
as " Tze Proprietors of the Common Field."  The fences
around the whole were built by the corporation; each
man cultivated his own land in the summer, and in the
fall, after the crops were gathered, all pastured them in
common. The incorporation has lately expired by
limitation. Soon we are at the entrance of Deerfield
street and it is safe to predict that not many of us have
ever seen one more beautiful. It is just a mile in
length; and the branches of the majestic elms, meeting over head form a lengthened canopy for the whole
of that distance. An old brown house on the right
not long after we enter the village is the residence of
George Sheldon, Esq.; a gentleman of extensive antiquarian research, and of excellent historical judgment,
who has done more than any other living man to collect and sift the traditions of this old town. Mr. Sheldon has one o. the largest collections of Indian antiquities to be found in the country. He was the man
of whom the witty Springfield Republican said that it
was his delight to invite a company of antiquarians
to supper, and then to amuse them afterward by digging up Indian skulls in his back yard. Mr. Sheldon
is now engaged upon a work for which he is thoroughly
qualified, and which all his neighbors hope he may live
to accomplish-the preparation of a history of his
native town. When it is done it will be well done,
and no descendant of Deerfield can afford to do without it. The Unitarian Church is a brick edifice on 
MEETING-HOUSE HILL.
the west side of the street, and at the north end of
the Common. The slight elevation on which it stands
was known among the early settlers as "Meeting House Hill."  The northern boundary of the old fort
ran along this bank; it extended far enough east tc
enclose the houses on the east side of the street. It
was an irregular oblong enclosure, its greatest length
being from west to east. The elevation on which it
stood was once an island in the lake; and was very
likely wooded, when the settlers took possession. A
white house stands fronting on the Common directly
in the rear of the church, on the spot where the old
Indian House stood. The Pocumtuck House is an
excellent hotel on the south side of the street, in the
hall of which we shall find the Indian Door. The next
house beyond the hotel, was probably standing when
the town was burnt in 1704. In the Common stands
a beautiful'shaft of brown freestone, surmounted by the
statue of a soldier in fatigue dress, with a rifle at the position of "load." Engraved upon the monument, with
various appropriate mottoes, and the names of the battles and prisons in which they gave up their lives are
the names of forty-two soldiers,-and this inscription:
"In grateful appreciation of the Patriotism and self-sacrifice
of her lamented sons and soldiers, who for their Country and for
Freedom laid down their lives in the war of the Great Rebellion,
Deerfield erects this monument, A. D. I867. Their precious
dust is scattered on many battle-fields or was hastily bdried near
some loathsome prison pen; but the memory of their brave
deeds and willing sacrifices shall be cherished in our heart of
hearts sacredly and forever.
67 
68    FROM TIlE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
"This Monument stands upon the Old Meeting-House Hill,
and is within the limits of the Old Fort, built A. D. i689, and
which remained until A. D. I758, and was one of the chief defenses of the early settlers against the attacks of savage Indians.
With pious affection and gratitude, their descendants  would
hereby associate the sacrifices and sufferings of the Fathers of
the town in establishing our institutions with those of their
children in defending them."
"Aye, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod
They have left unstained, what here they found,
Freedom to worship God."
The Orthodox Congregational Church is a neat,
white edifice on the left hand side of the street, fronting southward.   Between the two  houses standing
north of this church on the principal street, it is said
that there was formerly an underground passage provided for the safety of the inmates during the Indian
wars. On the south of the common a side street leads
down to the old burying-ground, past the old home of
President Hitchcock on the left, and the spot on the
right where stood the residence of Parson Williams,
and where his well still remains.  Here lie buried many
of the victims of Indian barbarity.  The date of th-..
oldest inscription is i695. A little guide-board marks
the spot.
Leaving, now, this quiet street whose atmosphere is
pervaded with old memories, let us drive to the top of
Pocumtuck Rock, which overlooks the village and the
valley. There let us sit down and muse awhile, feasting our eyes upon the beautiful picture at our feet, and 
THE VIEWS FROM SUGAR LOAF.
supplying in our imagination the scenes that have transpired during the last two hundred years within the
circle of these hills.
Another day, perhaps, we will drive further south
through the meadows, along the route where Lathrop
and his troops and teamsters marched so many years
ago, to the. spot where they were slaughtered, now
marked by a marble cenotaph. This monument was
dedicated in i835, with an oration by Hon. Edward
Everett. While we are in this neighborhood too, we
will climb to the top of Sugar Loaf, the hill at the base
of which the fight took place.
"It is a conical peak of red sandstone, five hundred
feet above the plain. It f-inds on the west bank of
the Connecticut, within two hundred yards of the river,
and rises almost perpendicularly from the meadows
below. Sugar Loaf stands as it were at the head of
the valley, and the southern view is remarkable for its
beauty. On the left, east of the river, and almost underneath the mountain, is the village of Sunderland,
accessible from the west side by a covered bridge.
South, and on the same side of the river, are the villages of North Amherst, Amherst, Belchertown, North
Hadley and Hadley On the west side are South Deerfield,Whately, Hatfield, Northampton and Easthampton.
Skirting the southern horizon are the lofty peaks of
Mounts Holyoke and Tom, and between them, through
the gateway to the ocean, glimmering in the sunlight,
are the church spires in Holyoke and Chicopee."*
*Burt's Connecticut Valley Guide.
69 
70    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
From Greenfield to Sugar Loaf it is only eight miles,
-an easy and delightful afternoon excursion; and the
ascent of the mountain is not difficult. At the hotel
on the summit we may find rest and refreshment.
TURNER'S FALLS,
Up Main street to High street, then northward,
along a level and pleasant road. The mills and tenements of the Greenfield Woolen Company stand in
Factory Hollow, through which Fall River runs to the
Connecticut. A certain eminent actor and elocutionist visiting once at Greenfield rode out this way one
fine morning to visit Turner's Falls. On the left hand
of the road he saw this mill-dam which he took for
the famous cataract,-on the right the frames for drying cloth which he supposed were seats erected for the
convenience of visitors to the Falls. Back he galloped
to the village and gave free expression to his contempt
for people who could make so much fuss about so
small a thing. Afterward he went farther and changed
his mind. Not far from the mill we catch a glimpse
of the Falls through the gorge which Fall River has
cloven through the rocks. It is only a glimpse, but
it quickens our pulses, and we hurry on to the summit of the hill. And now that this little book may not
be charged with too much enthusiasm in its description, let us copy a sketch of the Falls from a work as
solid as Hitchcock's Report on the Geology of Massachusetts.
"They are by far the most interesting water-falls in the
tI 
TURNER'S FALLS IN THE CONNECTICUT'.
fI~ 
, 1 
THE NIAGARA OF NEW ENGLAND.
State, and I think I may safely say in New England.
Above Turner's Falls the Connecticut for about three
miles pursues a course nearly north-west, through a
region scarcely yet disturbed by cultivation; and all
this distance is as placid as a mountain lake even to
the very verge of the cataract.   There an artificial
dam has been erected, more than a thousand feet long,
resting near the center upon two small islands.  Over
this dam the water leaps more than thirty feet perpendicularly; and for half a mile continues descending
rapidly and foaming along its course. One hundred
rods below the falls the stream strikes directly against
a lofty greenstone ridge, by which it it compelled to
change its course towards the south at least a quarter
of a mile. The proper point for viewing Turner's
Falls is from the road leading to Greenfield on the
north shore, perhaps fifty rods below the cataract[just where we are standing now.] Here from elevated ground you have directly before you the principal fall intersected near the center by two small rocky
islands which are crowned by trees and brush-wood.
The observer perceives at once that Niagara is before
him in miniature. These islands may be reached by
a canoe from above the falls with perfect safety. Fifty
rods below the cataract a third most romantic little
island lifts its evergreen head,-an image of peace and
security in the midst of the agitated and foaming
waters swiftly gliding by. The placid aspect of the
waters above the fall, calmly emerging from the moderately elevated and wooded hills at a distance is
7I
I 
72      FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
finely contrasted with the foam and tumult below the
cataract.   During high water, the roar of Turner's
Falls may be heard from six to ten miles. The magnificence of the cataract is greatly heightened at such
a season."
Here  occurred the famous Falls Fight.   On  the
evening of the I7th of May, I676, about eight months
after the terrible massacre at Sugar Loaf, Captain
Turner marched with one hundred and sixty mounted
men from Hatfield, twenty miles below, to attack the
Indians who had gathered here to fish in large numbers. Just before daybreak they reached an elevated
hill not far from where the woolen mill now stands,
where they dismounted, fastened their horses, and
crossing Fall River, climbed to the spot where we are
standing now, and looked down upon an Indian camp
which was pitched near the head of the falls. The
Indians were all in a profound sleep without even a
watch. "Roused from their slumbers by the sudden
roar of musketry they fled, toward the river, vociferating'Mohawks! Mohawks!'  believing this furious
enemy was upon them. Many leaped into their canoes, some in the hurry forgetting their paddles and
attempting to swim were shot by the English or precipitated down th& dreadful cataract and drowned;
while others were killed in their cabins or took shelter under the shelving rocks of the river bank, where
they were cut down by their assailants without much
resistance. The loss of the Indians was severe, one
hundred were left dead on the ground, and one hun 
THE NEW CITY.
dred and forty were seen to pass down the cataract,
but one of whom escaped drowning. A few gained
the opposite shore and joined their companions on
that side. The whole loss, as was afterwards acknowledged, amounted to above three hundred of all descriptions, among whom were many of their principal
sachems." *
Only one Englishman was killed. On his return,
however, the Indians, whose force greatly outnumbered
Turner's, rallied, and pursued him; dividing and scattering his little army, and killing Turner himself, with
thirty-eight of his men.
A short distance above the falls we cross by a ferry
from the town of Gill to the town of Montague, and
drive down the stream to the new city, whose foundations are now being laid. The dam which Dr. Hitchcock describes is not the one now standing. In I792
a company was incorporated under the title of the
"Proprietors of the Upper Locks and Canals in the
County of Hampshire," that built a dam and a canal
three miles long at this point, for the purpose of facilitating the navigation of the river. In I866, the name
of this corporation was changed to The Turner's Falls
Company, seven hundred acres of ]and were purchased
by them; a new dam was built,-the streets and avenues of a new city were laid out, and one of the largest
water powers in New England was developed.  This
dam is one thousand feet long, in two curved sections;
and it has an average fall of thirty-six feet. It is built
#Hoyt's Indian Wars, p. 139.
4
73 
74    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
of timber and entirely filled with stone, making it prac.
tically a stone dam. While the dam was building, in
the winter of i866-7, a portion of it about one hundred feet in length was carried away. The whole Connecticut River poured with tremendous force through
this opening a hundred feet in width, and the hydraulic
engineers declared that the section could pot be restored. But a plain man in Greenfield, whose name
is George W. Potter, and who is not an engineer, said
it could be done, and did it. It was probably one of
the most difficult feats of hydraulic engineering ever
attempted. Standing on the bulk-head, the view of the
fall and the rapids below is magnificent.
Below this dam two canals are being constructed,
the one twenty-five feet above the other; and upon
these two canals, provision is made for thirty-one mill
sites, averaging three hundred horse power each.
This does not utilize more than half of the power.
The property is rapidly being taken up. The Russell
Manufacturing Company are erecting one building six
hundred and ten feet long by fifty feet wide; and this
is only about one-third of the area of the buildings to
be erected by them. Their new shops will give employment to twelve hundred men. Other mills will
soon be built, and within twenty years we may expect
to see a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants upon this
ground.
In the new red sandstone, which constitutes the
banks of the river at the Falls, were found the fossil
foot-prints which were such a prize to the geologists. 
FOSSILS PAST AND FUTURE.
Somewhere from fifty to a hundred thousand years
ago, a large number of birds of both sexes and all
sizes (some of them standing not less than ten feet
without their stockings) were in the habit of walking
out at low water on the beach of a lake or estuary, then
occupying these parts. Their foot-prints, hardened
by the sun, were afterward filled by the rising water
with sand and mud; and then the whole mass was
petrified. How do we know all this? Look here
madam!  You must not come round us geologists
saying you want to know, you know. We have made
some pretty shrewd guesses, and we intend to stand
by them.
We drive homeward, along the serene and somewhat
slimy banks of the old canal, musing on these footmarks with the unpronounceable Greek names, all so
neatly classified and labeled. Cuvier said that if you
would give him a single bone he could construct the
skeleton of the animal. But these geologists make
pictures of the ancient birds by studying the tracks
they left in the primitive mud. Imagine the pictures
which will be drawn by geologists fifty or a hundred
thousand years hence, when the tracks that were made
last summer in the sand at Newport or Long Branch
are quarried out of the rock! Imagine a geologist
studying the fossil track of a Grecian bender and trying to frame a figure to correspond!
The moral is, ladies, that you should never walk in
the mud.
Down through the single street of what was to have
75 
76    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
been and still is called a City, whose other name is
Montague; across the old bridge which is to give
place for a new one for both wagons and cars, where
the railroad is to cross now building to Turner's
Falls; over the hill, looking backward to take our last
leave of the beautiful Connecticut,-and down into the
village again, by a road that has grown familiar.
OTHER DRIVES.
77ze Si/ifwater Drive is deservedly popular about
Greenfield. The road to Conway is followed, which
leads across the railroad track, then turns to the right,
crosses Pettis' Plain, where De Rouville's French and
Indians halted on the morning when they made their
assault upon Old Deerfield; then turns to the left along
the margin of the old lake which is now the meadow,
having in sight continually a most beautiful landscape;
passes over Stillwater Bridge, into that part of the
meadow called "The Bars," where the last fight occurred, and returns by way of Old Deerfield.
Leyden Glen or Gorge is a place much visited by
tourists. A large brook has worn a passage from ten
to twenty feet wide, and from thirty to fifty feet deep in
the strata of argillo-micaceous slate. The length of the
gorge is about forty rods.  Above the gorge is a deep
glen, and below it the stream passes through a ravine.
Two beautiful water-falls near the mouth of the gorge
greatly add to the picturesqueness of the spot.  It
compares not unfavorably with the famous Flume at
the White Mountains. Not far from the entrance to 
FOREST AND BROOKSIDE ROADS.
the glen, the place is pointed out where Mrs. Eu nice
Williams was murdered on the march to Canada.
Romantic and delightful roads pass through Tzhe
She?urne and Coleraine Gorges; you can go by the one
and return by the other.
One of the roads to Shelburne takes you for a long
distance through cool and pleasant woods, and for
three or four miles a brook is your constant companion.
Beyond the woods you look back upon another charming view of Greenfield and the Deerfield Valley.
These are only part of the pleasant excursions you
can make in the neighborhood of Greenfield.  For the
rest, consult Stevens of the Mansion House. There
are two of them and either of them is a host in more
senses than one. What they cannot tell you about
things worth seeing in this region is not worth knowing.
77
-W  
_'   0''      o'                     o                     o                     0
0
CHAPTER III.
FROM GREENFIELD TO NORTH ADAMS.
HE Troy and Greenfield Railroad, from Green    field to the Hoosac Tunnel, is owned by the
Commonwealth of Massachusetts, but is leased and
operated by the Vermont and Massachusetts Railroad
Company. The airy and pleasant cars of this company take us on board at the Greenfield station, and
we are soon passing over the high bridge across Green
River, and steaming swiftly along the table-land that
overlooks the Deerfield Valley.   West Deerfield is
the name of the station at Stillwater; and just before
reaching it we look far away across the meadows upon
two peaks in the southern horizon which must be Tom
and Holyoke. The gorge from which the Deerfield
River emerges, and into which we enter at this point, is
the wildest and most beautiful spot we have yet found
in our railroading. "As to the defile," says Dr. Hitchcock in his Geological Report, "through which Deerfield River runs between Shelburne and Conway, it is
so narrow that it is difficult even on foot to find a pass
. 
SHELBURNE FALLS.
age; though full of romantic and sublime objects to
the man who has the strength and courage to pass
through it." But what the turnpike did not dare to
do the railroad has done; it has hugged the river
closely all the way, and thus has given us a constant
succession of magnificent scenes, of which the highway altogether defrauded the traveler. Any elaborate
description of these scenes is superfluous. The traveler
must not be looking in his book; he must be looking
out of the window.
Shelburne Falls is a thriving town twelve miles from
Greenfield. The cataract in the Deerfield at this point
is a beautiful one, though the glimpse of it that we get
from the cars is hardly satisfactory.   Here is another
mammoth cutlery establishment, next to the Russell
Works at Greenfield in size and importance. Messrs.
Lamson and Goodnow are the proprietors. The excellent water-power afforded by these falls is turned to
good account in manufacturing. Here resided, until
his death within the past year, Mr. Linus Yale, Jr.,
whose father picked the locks of Hobbes, the Englishman, so cleverly, and who himself made a lock that the
Englishman could not pick.   The Yale locks, known
everywhere, are made here. The village of Shelburne
Falls puts in a fine appearance, scattered along the
narrow valley, and upon the adjacent hill-sides. Two
churches confronting each other on one of the streets
made us think of Dr. Holmes, who, you know, was
always reminded, when he saw two churches situated
in this manner, of a pair of belligerent roosters, with
79 
8o    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
tails erect and crests ruffled, eyeing each other at close
quarters. These two churches, it is pleasant to know,
are not in a state of war, nor even in a condition of
armed neutrality, though their edifices may be in a
threatening attitude.
Beyond Shelburne Falls is Buckland, a small station
where travelers will be amused to see a sort of telegraphic contrivance for carrying the mail across the
river. It is a good illustration of Yankee ingenuity.
Part of the territory of Buckland was formerly called
"No  Town."   To  this unpretending old town, the
thoughts of many will make pilgrimages, though their
eyes may never see the glory of its wooded hills. It
was the birthplace of Mary Lyon. Here the valley of
the Deerfield, which for much of the distance since we
left Stillwater has been only a gorge, grows a little
wider, and there are good farms, with excellent orchards, on both sides of the river. Without doubt, this
valley, in which part of Buckland and nearly the whole
of Charlemont lie, was once a lake. But though the
hills recede from the river they do not lose their attractiveness.   Their symmetrical outlines present to
us a constant and charming variety of graceful and
beautiful forms. This river, whose banks we follow, now lying placidly in the midst of green meadows, or
winding through willow thickets; now rippling with a
musical delight, which we can feel if we cannot hear it, over broad and shallow places; now reflecting in
its smooth pure waters, long reaches of shingly shores
or islands; now plunging madly down tortuous rapids; 
A WAYSIDE INN.
this matchless Deerfield River is to every traveler who
follows its course a ceaseless fascination, a perpetual
delight. The quickest and most loving eye seizes but
few of its many charms in one journey; and with as
poor a pigment as printers' ink one could hardly paint
them.
Cliarlemont is an old tow'n, extending fourteen miles
along the river; and from one to three miles wide.
The principal village is across the river from the railroad, and among other distinguishments boasts one of
the best old fashioned country inns to be found anywhere this side the water.  "Deacon" Dalrymple, the
inn-keeper, is a character in his way. The figure of
speech by which his title is applied to him is not down
in the historical books; but his inn, unlike his title, is
not a figure of speech at all.  If you want a good,
square, country meal, with no nonsense about it, the
Deacon is your man. And yet, so indifferent is he to
patronage and so averse to praise, that he will be likely
to resent this little notice as a mortal injury; and the
writer will never dare to show himself on that side of
the river. The only motive of this paragraph is the
public good. There are so few good country taverns
in the land that any man in such a place who can keep
a hotel, and wont keep a hotel ought to be made to
keep a hotel.
The old town has sent forth some celebrities. ExGovernor Washburne was born here; Rev. Roswell
Hawkes, and Rev. Theron M. Hawkes, both well
known Orthodox ministers are natives of this town;
4*
8I
I 
82    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Hon. Joseph White, Secretary of the Board of Education, hails from this valley.
In early days this town included a part of what is
now Heath, the town adjoining it on the north. During the Revolution, Rev. Jonathan Leavitt, father of
Hon. Jonathan Leavitt, of the Court of Common
Pleas, and of Dr. Joshua Leavitt of the New York
.idpeendent, was the Congregational pastor here, and
made no small stir among'his people in one way and
another. He was not quite sound in his theology,
many thought; he was not so ardent a Whig as some
of his townsmen, and his views on the subject of
finance troubled them exceedingly. It seems that
the town (the town and the parish were identical in
those days) had voted before the war to give him
so much salary; and when the Continental paper
money had depreciated so that it wasn't worth a
Continental, they wanted to pay the parson in that,
to which he strenuously objected. When they cast
him out of the church, he entered into the schoolhouse and preached there; and after the war he
sued the towns of Heath and Charlemont for the
arrearages in his salary. The lower court decided
against him, but the Supreme Court reversed the
decision, and awarded to Mr. Leavitt ~500 for
preaching in the school-house, and ~200 for loss
suffered through the depreciation of paper currency.
If all the dominies in the land should collect by
law from their parishes the difference in their salaries between gold and greenbacks during the late 
AN " EX-PARTE" COUNCIL.
war, some of them would have money enough to take
a trip to Europe.
In this quarrel between Mr. Leavitt and his parish,
no doubt the parson had the law on his side; but the
methods he took of enforcing his claims are open to
severe criticism. As much might be said of some of
his antagonists.   It is the theory of the Congregational order that one church may not interfere with
the affairs of another except to give advice when it is
called for; but in this quarrel we find Rev. Mr. Jones,
of Rowe, coming uninvited at the head of a posse of
his parishioners, to give advice to Mr. Leavitt, and
bearing in his hand not exactly an olive branch, or the
emblematical balances, but a bayonet fastened to the
end of a rake's-tail!  Advice, under  most circumstances is easier to prescribe than to swallow; but
under such circumstances it would certainly be classed
among those commodities which it is more blessed to
give than to receive. It does not appear that Mr.
Leavitt was persuaded by these urgent solicitations of
his brethren.
Above Charlemont the scenery grows wilder. Now
we are plunging into the heart of this beautiful region.
The valley contracts to a narrow gorge; the hills,
wooded from base to summit, rise abruptly from the
river-bed a thousand feet into the air. How the river
finds its passage among them we cannot always make
out. Looking before us, we can discover no break in
the solid chain of hills; looking behind us the mountain wall is equally impenetrable. Still the river has
83 
84    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
leisure.   Doubtless it can make  its way.   Rivers
always do. But how are these thundering, screaming
cars to thrid this Titan's Labyrinth?   Is there not
danger that they will come to a sudden halt against
that solid mountain at which they are driving so furiously? The danger always passes before we have
had time to be alarmed. The cul-de-sac has always
an opening. The train skips across the river, bends
sharply round a curve, and darts with a yell of triumph
into a new defile. It is a Titan's Labyrinth, but the
strength and swiftness and cunning that are searching
out and forcing open its hidden paths for us are more
than Titanic.
Next above Charlemont the train halts at Zoar.
"Is it not a little one?" said the patriarch Lot of the
city of that name to which he fled. Certainly this is
not a very big one. It might be large enough to hold
a patriarch, but there certainly is not room for a lot in
it,-for a level one at any rate. Somebody at your
elbow who knows more than he ought to know suggests that Lot was not always exactly level!
Beyond Zoar the grandeur grows apace. We pass
on the left a covered bridge under which a cataract
tumbles; the hills are closer, higher, and steeper; the
foliage on their sides more dense and richer in variety.
Soon a little green valley laughs at us from across the
river; the train slackens its speed, the brakeman
shouts "H oosac Tunnel!" and we gather our bundles
and disembark.
Dinner at Rice's, an old and excellent country tavern 
— 4
~ffl
___ ffiffiffi~ _
~ _
DEERFIELD RIVER AT THE EASTERN PORTAL. 
I, 
LOAMI BALDWIN'S CANAL.                  85
across the river; and then, perhaps we will spend the
afternoon in exploring this region, and in making ourselves familiar with what is here to be seen of
THE HOOSAC TUNNEL.
Up to this point the Deerfield River has given us an
excellent route for a railroad. But just here we find it
coming down from the n-orth, out of the fastnesses of
the Green Mountains. It would not be easy to follow
its course any higher; and it would lead us where we
donot wish to go.  Right across the westward path
which we have followed nature has written, in the bold
horizon lines of the Hoosac Mountain, "No Thoroughfare." But many of Nature's legends get rubbed out
and this one soon will be.
The project of tunneling this mountain is not a new
one. In I825 a board of commissioners with Loami
Baldwin as engineer, were appointed by the Legislature
to ascertain the practicability of making a canal from
Boston to the Hudson River.   They examined the
country by way of Worcester, Springfield, and the
Westfield River; and also by Fitchburg, and the Miller and Deerfield Rivers, making the village of North
Adams a point common to both routes; and reported
that "there was no hesitation in deciding in favor of
the Deerfield and Hoosac River Route."
At the Hoosac their examinations were extended
both to the north and south of the present line of
tunnel with a view to discover some other route by
which itjmight be avoided, but increased distance and 
86    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
lackage and difficulty of procuring water led them to
give preference to the tunnel. In their report they
say: "There is no hesitation, therefore, in deciding in
favor of a tunnel; but even if its expense should exceed the other mode of passing the mountain, a tunnel
is preferable, for the reasons which have been assigned.
And this formidable barrier once overcome, the remainder of the route, from the Connecticut to the
Hudson presents no unusual difficulties in the construction of a canal, but in fact the reverse; being remarkably feasible."
During this very year, the first railway was opened
in America for the conveyance of freight and passengers, and the attention of the people being turned to
this improved method of communication the project
of building a canal from Boston to Troy was abandoned. The Boston and Albany Railroad was completed in I842, but the advantages of this northern
route were never lost sight of. The thriving towns
along the line looked for an outlet east and west, and
the vast undeveloped resources of the region through
which the railroad would pass gave abundant encouragement to the prosecution of the work. In i845 the
first section of the road was opened to Fitchburg;
shortly afterward the Vermont and Massachusetts Railroad was begun; and as early as I848 the Troy and
Greenfield Railroad Company was incorporated by the
Legislature, with a capital of three million five hundred thousand dollars, and was authorized to build a
railroad "from the terminus of the Vermont and Massa 
BEGINNING TO BORE.
chusetts Railroad at Greenfield, through the valleys of
the Deerfield and Hoosac to the State line, there to
unite with a railroad leading to the city of Troy."
The road must be located within two years, and finished
within seven years.
The feasibility of the undertaking wa not apparent
to capitalists, however; and at the end of six years
the subscription books of the company showed a beggarly array of blank pages, while almost nothing had
been done towards the construction of the road. Efforts had been made during this time to obtain a State
loan; but it was not till i854 that the Commonwealth
loaned its credit to the company to the amount of two
millions of dollars. Under this act a contract was
made with E. W. Serrell & Company, and work was
begun in earnest in i855. The conditions under which
the loan was granted were found difficult of fulfillment;
and the progress of the work was impeded. In I856
a new contract was made with H. Haupt & Company
by which the company agreed to pay three million
eight hundred and eighty thousand dollars for completing the road and tunnel. From this time till i86i the
work was carried on by the company and the contractors. Excavations were made at each end of the tunnel, and in I858 the western section of the road was
completed to the State line, connecting North Adams
with Troy. In I86i, a difficulty arose between Haupt
& Company and the State Engineer concerning the
payment of the installments of the State loan, which
resulted in the abandonment of the work by the con
87 
88    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
tractors. Nothing farther was done until the winter
of i862, when an act was passed providing that the
State should take possession of the road, the tunnel,
and all the property of the Troy and Greenfield Company; and appointing a Commission to examine the
works and report to the next Legislature. This Commission made an elaborate report in February, i863,
recommending the prosecution of the work by the
State; upon which in the autumn of the same year
work was resumed by the commissioners, under the
able superintendence of Mr. Thomas Doane who had
been appointed Chief Engineer. The enterprise was
prosecuted by the commissioners until the winter of
i868, when the Legislature made an appropriation of
four million seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars
for the completion of the work, requiring that it should
be contracted by the first of January following. The
contract was taken by Messrs. F. Shanly & Brother
of Canada, who agree to finish the tunnel and lay the
track by March I, I874. These gentlemen are now
rapidly and vigorously carrying on the work.
The length of the tunnel from portal to portal is a
little more than four miles and three quarters, and the
rock through which it passes, except at the extreme
western end where a secondary formation overlays the
primary, is a solid mica slate, with occasional nodules
of quartz. The mountain has two crests, with a valley between them.   The  one which overlooks the
Deerfield is about fourteen hundred and fifty feet above
the river bed; the one which overlooks the Hoosac 
A BIG AUGER.
is seventeen hundred and fifty feet above the bed of
that river. The lowest spot in the depression between
these peaks on the line of the tunnel is about eight
hundred feet above the grade.
The work is being driven from both ends; and in
the valley at the top of the mountain a shaft is being
sunk, from which, when the grade is reached, excavations will be pushed, east and west, to meet those that
are being driven inward.   This shaft besides giving
two more faces on which to work, and thus expediting
the completion of the tunnel, is expected to afford
ventilation when the tunnel is completed.
At first the work was all done by hand-drills; but
attempts were soon made to construct machines for
rock-cutting. In i85i a monster of this sort weighing
seventy tons was constructed at South Boston, and
"was designed to cut out a groove around the circumference of the tunnel, thirteen inches wide and twentyfour feet in diameter, by means of a set of revolving
cutters. When this groove had been cut to a proper
depth, the machine was to be run back on its railway
and the center core blasted out by gunpowder or split
off by'means of wedges.   It was conveyed to the
Hoosac mountain, and, the approach not being then
completed, was put in operation on a vertical face of
rock near the proposed entrance to the tunnel." The
Railroad Committee of the Legislature after examining its operations were fully convinced that it was a
stupendous success. It was operated under their eyes
for full fifteen minutes, during which time it cut into
89 
90    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
the rock four and one-eighth inches, or at the rate of
sixteen and onehalf inches per hour.  At that rate,
by operating at both ends, the tunnel could be built in
about two years. This was rosy. But unfortunately
this mechanical behemoth refused to go on. Ten feet
was the extent of its progress. It amounted to old
iron and that was all. Nothing daunted by this failure, Mr. Haupt, at an expense of twenty-five thousand
dollars, procured another boring machine. This was
to excavate the heading only, or a hole eight feet in
diameter; which was afterwards to be enlarged'by
manual labor and blasting.  Mr. Haupt was sanguine
about this. In a letter to General Wool, under date
of September 25, i858, he prophesies -"The slowest
progress of the machine when working will be fifteen
inches per hour; the fastest, twenty-four inches. A
machine at each end working but half the time with
the slowest speed, should go through the mountain in
twenty-six months." But this promising contrivance
never made an inch of progress into the rock. It was
"an auger that wouldn't bore."
These costly experiments with tunneling machines
sufficed. After this the work was done with elbow
grease and gunpowder until Mr. Doane took charge of
the tunnel, when preparations were immediately made
to introduce power drills. These had been successfully employed on the great Mount Cenis Tunnel now
constructing under the Alps between France and Sardinia. The impossibility of operating machinery with
steam in a tunnel, owing to the fouling of the air with 
POWER DRILLS.
smoke, made it necessary to find some other motive
power for the drills; and the engineers of the Mount
Cenis Tunnel at length succeeded in solving this problem. Their method with variations and improvements
was adopted here. Air compressed by machinery to
a pressure of six atmospheres or ninety pounds to the
square inch is carried into the tunnel in iron pipes, and
there being ejected with the force due to its pressure,
it not only serves to move the piston of the machine
drill, but ventilates the tunnel. The dam in the Deerfield River just above the eastern portal of the tunnel
furnishes the power by which the air-compressors are
driven.
Under the management of Mr. Haupt, about two
thousand four hundred feet of linear excavation was
made at this eastern end. The distance penetrated
from the eastern portal at the transfer of the work to
the Messrs. Shanly was five thousand two hundred and
eighty-two feet-just two feet more than a mile.
THE WEST END.
At the west. end the difficulties of the work have
been greatest. On this side the mountain wall is less
abrupt than on the other; and on entering the slope
of the mountain the workmen came upon a solid limestone rock easy of excavation. But this rock soon
began to dip, and at length as they progressed, it disappeared below the grade of the tunnel, and they discovered that they had passed through the limestone
into what geology calls disintegrated mica and talc
9I 
92    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
schist; but what history with a truer nomenclature,
designates as porridge. This loose rock, readily yielding to the action of water and dissolving into a fluid
of about the consistency of gruel was a most formidable foe to the engineers. From before its face they
retreated, resolving to make an open cutting instead
of a tunnel for the first few hundred feet. Accordingly they ascended to the surface, sunk a shaft just
eastward of the end of their completed tunnel, and
began to take out the earth. But the open cutting was
a job of some magnitude. When they had made an
immense hopper, five hundred and fifty feet long, three
hundred feet wide and seventy-five feet deep, they concluded to try tunneling again. As fast as excavations
were made into this demoralized rock it was necessary
to make a complete casing of timber to support the
sides and roof of the tunnel. Within this casing an
arch of masonry must be built. There was no solid
foundation on which to rear the walls and roof of masonry; and it was therefore necessary to lay an inverted arch of brick for a flooring. The, top of the tunnel is a semicircle, whose radius is thirteen feet; and
the sides as well as the invert are arcs of a circle whose
radius is twenty-six feet. The invert was carried in
for eight hundred and eighty-three feet from the portal;
at which point rock was found of sufficient firmness to
sustain the walls of masonry.  It will be seen therefore that nearly nine hundred feet of the west end is a
complete tube of brick, averaging about eight courses
in thickness. 
FIGHTING THE PORRIDGE.
Most of this difficult work at the west end was done
by Mr. B. N. Farren under a contract with the commissioners. The obstacles have at some times been
appalling. So treacherous was the quicksand, and so
great the flow of water at times, that whole months
have been spent in the most energetic labor without
making an inch of progress. It was necessary thoroughly to drain the porridge by side and cross drifts
in every direction before anything could be done.
For this purpose about twelve hundred feet of extra
heading was made outside of the tunnel. When at
last they pierced the thin quartz vein which separated
the porridge from the mountain rocks, there was great
joy in those diggings.   Beyond this the rock was
soft, but not affected by the action of water; and the
troubles of the engineers were at an end.
This demoralized rock, which has given so much
grief to the friends of the tunnel has given equal joy
to its foes. This has been their constant argument to
prove that the tunnel was a blunder and a failure and
a swindle. Driven from every other stronghold they
have entrenched themselves in this porridge with desperate resolution. Marshalled by the amiable but indomitable Mr. Bird of Walpole, the pamphleteers have
let fly at this soft rock a broadside of paper missiles.
There are a good many bird-tracks in the new red
sandstone at Gill; but the Bird tracts about this porridge are much more numerous.
While part of the miners were fighting with the porridge at the west end, another army of them ascended
93
., 
94      FROM THE HUB T6 THE HUDSON.
the mountain side to a point on the line of the tunnel
about half a mile east of the west portal, and there
sunk a shaft in the solid rock, three hundred and
eighteen feet. From this shaft an opening has now
been made to the west end, and the heading has been
pushed eastward sixteen hundred feet, -making a continuous lineal excavation of four thousand fifty-six feet
from the west portal to the end of the heading.
The cost of this work is not an insignificant item.
Up to the time when the commissioners took possession of the road the State had advanced nearly a million of dollars. The commissioners have expended
$3,229,530.  The Messrs. Shanly are to receive for
completing the work, $4,594,268. Add to these sums
the amount required to finish the road from the tunnel to North Adams, and the total cost of the road
and the tunnel according to the last estimate of the
commissioners will be a little over nine millions of
dollars.
If anybody wants to know what advantages are to
be derived from this large expenditure, the answers
are easy. This road will shorten the distance from
Boston to Troy by nine miles; and on account of its
easier gradients, will be a much better road for freights
than the Western. It will thus give greatly increased
facilities for trade between Boston and the West, and
will by its competition reduce the enormous prices of
transportation over the Boston and Albany Road. At
the same time it will help to develop the resources of
the country through which it passes, and will open to 
OTHER TUNNELS.
pleasure as well as to business a most attractive and
profitable line of travel.
The longest tunnel now in use is the Woodhead
Tunnel on the Manchester, Sheffield and Lincolnshire
Railroad,-a short distance from Manchester, England.
This is a little more than three miles Jong. The
Nerthe Tunnel in France, between Marseilles and
Avignon is nearly as long. The great tunnel before
referred to, now constructing under the Alps at Mount
Cenis, is more than seven miles and a half in length.
The Hoosac will therefore, when it is constructed, be
the longest tunnel in the world with the exception of
the one at Mount Cenis.
Now if the ladies will array themselves in their
shortest skirts, their oldest hats, their water-proofs,
and their over-shoes, we will go forth and see what we
have been reading about. From Rice's to the tunnel
the road runs along the river side, part of the way
under a delightful canopy of forest trees, and part'of
the way upon a precipitous bank. In the bend of the
river lies the immense pile of rock removed from the
tunnel. Passing by the stores, and crossing the track
that issues from the portal we follow the stream up to
the Deerfield Dam, a structure built for use, and answering its purpose well; but like all the best works
of man, as beautiful as it is useful. Retracing our
steps we descend the stream to the machine-shops
and compressor building, in which we watch for a
few moments the slow but mighty movement of the
enormous air pumps which supply the motive power
95 
96    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
to the drills that are hammering away upon the face of
the rock more than a mile distant in the heading of
the tunnel. Here too we may see one of the drillingmachines brought in for repairs. It is the invention
of Mr. Charles Burleigh of Fitchburg; and it consists
of a cylinder and piston operated by the elastic force
of compressed air. The drill is fastened to the piston,
and is driven into the rock by repeated strokes of the
piston.
To the left of the track as we approach the portal
we can see the hole in the rock made by the big borer
some years ago. A little tool-shop occupies the niche.
Perhaps we shall have time before we go in to ascend
this brook which flows past the mouth of the tunnel,
for a quarter of a mile to the Cascade of the Twins.
Two rivulets that unite to form this brook, coming
from different directions, tumble over the rocks from a
height of fifty or sixty feet into the same little pool.
It is a good place to spend an hour or two upon a hot
day.
On  our return the train is in readiness.   "All
aboard!" shouts the conductor, who is also the engineer, likewise the brakeman. He is dressed in an
over-coat of dirty yellow rubber cloth; and he flourishes a rawhide. The cars upon which we mount are
not exactly drawing-room cars, but they answer tolerably well. The locomotive is a good sized mule, who
lowers his long ears, bends his strong back, and
makes for the portal. In we go! The blue canopy
over head gives place to the dripping rock, a breeze 
HOOSAC TUNNEL.-EASTERN PORTAL. 
II 
A ROMANTIC RIDE.
coming out of the mountain and produced by the air
escaping from the drills at the distant heading greets
us; and we soon perceive that we have passed out of
the summer heat into a much cooler temperature.
Perhaps, too, if there has been a recent blast we
shall meet odors and vapors coming forth from this
darkness which will remind us of Tartarus, rather
than of the Cave of the winds. By and by an unearthly clangor reaches our ears; in the murky distance lurid lights and goblin shapes are seen flitting
and stalking about; and presently we are in the very
workshop of Vulcan himself; in the midst of noises
dire and forms uncouth, and faces grimy and hideous.
The drilling-machines are fastened to a massive iron
frame which is pushed up against the face of the
rocks; when holes enough are perforated, the frame is
pushed back; little tin cartridges of nitro-glycerine to
cach of which the wires of a galvanic battery is attached,
are placed in the holes; the workmen retire to safe
distances; the galvanic circuit is completed, and a
sound like all the noises of an earthquake and a
thunder-storm rolled into one, followed by a tremendous rush of air toward the portal, announces that a
few mrrore inches of the Hoosac Tunnel are completed.
A very short visit to this interesting spot generally
satisfies nervous people; wherefore we will speedily
remount our conveyance and turn our faces toward
daylight.
When the heats of noon are past, and the sun begins
to sink behind the Hoosac Mountain we will prepare
5
97
I 
FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
for our stage ride of eight miles to North Adams.
There is a vulgar prejudice against that excellent and
time-honored institution called the stage-coach, but
this prejudice is rarely able to survive the journey
over the Hoosac Mountain. Persong who have made
this overland trip have discovered that the true luxury
and glory of travel are only to be found in the stagecoaches. Fatigued with the journey in the cars to this
point they have alighted from the stages on the other
side refreshed and vigorous.   The change from the
cars to the stages is always restful. The grand scenery and the bracing air of the mountain are full of delicious intoxication.   If mere bodily comfort were
sought in travel the stage ride could not well be omitted; but they who seek refreshment for their minds
will readily allow that these eight miles over the
Hoosac Mountain are worth more than all the rest of
the journey. The only objection to the tunnel worthy
of a moment's consideration is that it will deprive
many travelers of this precious interlude.
Under the lengthening shadows our train of elegant
six-horse coaches begin to climb the mountain. Barnes
& Co. are the names written over the coach doors.
Barnes is the popular host of the United States Hotel
at Boston, and "Co." includes "Jim Stevens," one of
our drivers, who with "Al Richardson," another of the
drivers, manages the business here.  "Jim" was once
somebody's baby, but that must have been some time
ago. It wouldn't be much of a pastime to dandle him
now. It is pleasant to know that his skill and trust
98
t 
A WEIGHTY JUDGMENT.
worthiness as a stage-driver are in direct proportion to
his size. He might, perhaps, be bigger than he is;
he could not possibly be a better driver. To sit by
his side and see him handle the reins on one of these
mountain trips, deftly turning his long team round the
sharp angles in the steep road; quietly mnaking every
horse do his part on the heavy up hill stretches, and
coolly keeping them all in hand in the crooked descent,
and all without swearing or shouting or whipping, is to
enjoy one of the triumphs of horsemanship. "Jim"
learned his trade in a long apprenticeship among the
White Hills, and he is fond of talking about that region; and yet he maintains that the scenery of this
stage ride over the Hoosac is hardly surpassed in that
famous resort of travelers. It ought to be conceded
that the opinions of men like "Jim" and "Al," whose
avoirdupois balances are respectively three hundred
and twenty and two hundred and thirty pounds, are
entitled to some weight.
Steady climbing now for forty minutes. The road
creeps cautiously up the mountain side,-much of the
way through the forest, but often revealing the rugged
grandeur of the hills. Now you begin to get some
adequate idea of the depth and sinuosity of this Deerfield Gorge. Half a mile from Rice's is Puck's Nook,
where the road makes a sharp turn to the north, crossing one of the Twin Rivulets, which here comes gurgling out of a dense thicket above the road, and leaps
merrily down a steep ravine upon our right. A little
farther on, we emerge from the woods, and climbing a
**::
:-:.-.
99 
100   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
steep pitch, look down into the valley out of which we
have ascended. The green meadows, the orchards,
the river, the bridge, the shady road along the bank,
the neat white hostelry of Jenks & Rice, and the
other buildings nested in this snug little valley, and
around them all, built up into the sky, the steep, solid
battlement of hills! It would not do to call this val     ley a basin; the bottom is too small, and the sides are
too high and steep; it is a cup rather,-the drinking
cup of a Titan-embossed as the seasons pass with
green and gold and garnet forests, and drained of all
but a few sparkling drops of the crystal flood with which
it once was overbrimming.
On the hill across the river the line of the tunnel is
marked by a narrow path cut through the forest to a
signal station on the top. A white object upon that
hill-too furnishes a perpetual conundrum to travelers:
the guesses are commonly divided between a white
cowv, a pale horse and a shanty. It may give relief
to some minds to know that it is a rock. When you
are exactly in the range of that line on the opposite
hill you are exactly over the tunnel; and you will
notice similar paths cut through the forests both above
and below the road.   "Jim" says that one lady on
being told that the stage was at that moment passing
over the tunnel, ejaculated with a little scream, "Oh!
I thought it sounded hollow!"
A long pull and a strong pull of Jim's honest blacks
and grays brings us to the top of the eastern crest of
the Hoosac Mountain. Now look! You have but a
...
.c@:-;-.. 
GLORIA IN EXCELSIS!
few moments,-make the most of them. You may
travel far but you will never look upon a fairer scene
than that.   The vision reaches away for miles and
miles over the tops of a hundred hills -grouped in
beautiful disorder. Fifty miles as the crow flies from
the spot where you are standing, the cone of old
Monadnock pierces the sky. Further south, and ten
rhiles farther away, the top of Wachusett is seen in a
clear day dimly outlined in the horizon.   Down  at
your feet flows the deep gorge of the Deerfield whose
course you can trace for many miles. Nothing is seen
at first view but these rugged hills and the deep ravines that divide them-no trace or token of meadow
or lowland; but some subtile enchantment presently
attracts the eye to that miniature valley out of which
we have climbed, bordered on one side by the Deerfield, and walled in on all the other sides by the steepest
hills. This little valley at once becomes the center
of the picture; from it the eye makes many wide excursions over the hill-tops but it hastens back again.
It is like a ballad in the middle of a symphony; the
symphony is grand, but the ballad keeps singing itself
over in your memory at every pause. And yet that is
a very tame little valley, or would be anywhere else.
Its smooth, green fields edged by the river, would
never attract a glance in any level country. But, shut
in here, as it is among these hills,-the only sign of
quiet amid all these tokens of universal force,-it
is unspeakably beautiful.   The mountains, too, are
grander and wilder by the contrast with this peaceful
IOI 
102   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
scene. Every artist, whether in words or colors ought
to look upon this landscape. It would teach him a
useful lesson.
Over the crest of the mountain, westward, swiftly
down into the valley of the Cold River, which divides
the eastern from the western summit. The stunted
beeches on the left, barren of branches on the northwest side, show how fierce the winter winds are, and
from what quarter they come. This summit is two
thousand one hundred and ten feet above tide water,
and the western summit is four hundred feet higher.
Over the top of the hill in the west we catch our first
glimpse of Greylock.                   e
Beyond the lowest part of the valley, on the slope
of the western crest, the new buildings over the Central
Shaft of the tunnel are seen. At this place, on the
i9th of October, i867, a horrible casualty took place
Thirteen men were at work at the bottom of the
shaft, five hundred and eighty-three feet from the
surface, when the accidental explosion of a tank of
gasoline which had been used in lighting the shaft
suddenly set the buildings over the shaft into a blaze.
The engineer was driven from his post, the hoisting
apparatus was disabled and inaccessible, and the terrible certainty was at once forced upon the minds of all
who looked on, that the men at the bottom of the
shaft were doomed. How soon or in what manner
the men were themselves made aware of their awful
condition or in what way they met their fate no one
will ever know. Some doubtless were killed by the 
CENTRAL SHAFT.-MALLORY'S PERILOUS DESCENT 
, 0 
A BRAVE DEED.
falling timbers of the building; and by a terrible hail of
steel drills precipitated into the shaft when the platform gave way; others, perhaps, were suffocated by
the bad air, and others possibly were drowried by the
rising water, after the pumps stopped working. The
next morning, as soon as the smoking ruins could be
cleared away, a brave miner named Mallory was
lowered by a rope around his body to the bottom of
the shaft, and found there ten or fifteen feet of water
on the top of which were floating blackened timbers
and debris from the ruins, but saw no traces of the
men. It was impossible even to rescue their bodies.
The water was rapidly filling up the shaft, and new
buildings must be erected and proper machinery procured before it could be removed.   It was not till
the last days of October, i868, a full year after the
accident, that the bottom of the shaft was reached
and the bodies were secured.
On this bleak, rough mountain top, lies all that is
inhabitable of the town of Florida. There are a few
good grazing farms, but grain has a slim chance between the late and early frosts. The winters are long
and fierce. During the Revolutionary War a body of
troops attempted to make the passage of this mountain in midwinter, and nearly perished with cold and
hunger.   Jim can tell you some large stories, if he
chooses, about the storms and drifts of last winter.
Passing on the left a dilapidated old tavern, where
none but a stranger will be likely to get taken in, and
on the right, as we ascend the western crest, a smooth
5*
Io3 
104   FROMI THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
surface of rock with furrows chiseled in it by primitive
icebergs, there suddenly bursts upon us a scene whose
splendor makes abundant compensation for the dreariness of the last three miles.
In the center of the picture rises Greylock, King of
Mountains; about him are the group of lesser peaks
that make his court. On the north, Mount Adams, a
spur of the Green Mountain range, closes the scene.
Between this and the Greylock group the beautiful
curves of the Taghkanic range fill the western horizon.
From the north flows down, through the valley that
separates the mountain on which we stand from Mount
Adams, the north branch of the Hoosac river; from
the south, through the village of South Adams and the
valley that lies between us and Greylock, comes the
other branch of the river; right at our feet and fifteen
hundred feet below us lies the village of North Adams,
packed in among its ravines and climbing the slopes
on every side; and here the two branches of the Hoosac
unite and flow on westward through the other valley
that divides Greylock from Mount Adams. Williamstown lies at the foot of the Taconic Hills, just behind
the spur of Mount Adams. The straight line of the
Pittsfield and North Adams Railroad cuts the southern
valley in twain; the Troy and Boston railroad bisects
the western valley; and the twin spires of little Stamford in Vermont brighten the valley on the north.
These three deep valleys, with the village at their
point of confluence, and the lordly mountain walls
that shut them in, give us a picture whose beauty will 
PROSPECT ROCK.
not be eclipsed by any scene that New England can
show us. If it should fall to your lot, good reader, as
it fell to the lot of one (whether in the body or out of
the body I cannot tell) to stand upon the rock that
overhangs the  road by  which we  are  descending,
while the sun, hiding behind amber clouds in the west,
touches the western slopes bf the old mountain there
in the center with the most delicate pink and purple
hues,-while the shadows gather in the hollows of its
eastern side,-and the sweet breath of a summer evening steals over the green meadows where the little river
winds among its alder bushes,-if this should be your
felicity, you will say, and reverently too: "It is good
to be here; let us make tabernacles and abide; for
surely there shall never rest upon our souls a purer
benediction!"
People often debate whether this view from the
western crest be not finer than that from the eastern;
but with many the preference always rests with that
which they have looked on last.
Down the steep zigzags we go steadily, round the
hills and through the gorges we wind merrily, past
the mills and tenements of the upper village we clatter
briskly, and soon the stages halt before the imposing
front of the Wilson House; in which, unless we prefer the less spacious but comfortable Berkshire House
across the way, we shall find quarters, if we are wise,
for more than one night.
Io5 
CHAPTER IV.
UNDER THE SHADOW OF GREYLOCK.
0O one can say of this town of Adams, what the
member from Essex spitefully said of one of the
towns through which we have passed,-that it is like
a growing potato-the best part of it under ground.
Adams has not buried many of its heroes,-partly because it has not had many to bury, and partly because
it is a theory widely accepted in the town that the worst
use to which talent can be put is to bury it. The town
was born amid the throes of the Revolution; being incorporated in 1776, and taking its name from the famous Sam Adams. The first settlers were from Connecticut; most of these died or removed, and their
lands fell into the possession of emigrants from Rhode
Island, many of whom were Quakers. The southern
part of the town is now largely populated by the descendants of this peaceful sect; one at least of whom
has made herself a national reputation. The clearminded, large-minded, and by no means weak-minded
Susan B. Anthony was born under the shadow of Grey
Ien 
A STIRRING TOWN.
lock. Some of the first families of Adams can trace
the lines of their ancestry up to the Pilgrims who came
over with Bradford and Standish in the Mayflower;
the rest are all descendants of the original passengers,
who came over with Noah in the ark. The ordinary
sort of aristocracy does not, therefore, prevail in Adams to any alarming extent.  There is wealth here,but all of it has been earned; none of it was inherited.
All the leading business men began life with no stock
in trade but brains and courage. Out of this capital
they have created fortunes for themselves, and have
built up a flourishing town.   The population of the
town has increased with great rapidity during the last
few years, and the appreciation of property and the
increase of business have kept even pace with the
growth of population. The value of goods manufactured in i868, which was a dull year for business, is
shown by the books of the Internal Revenue Department to be above seven millions of dollars. That is
not an exaggerated statement at any rate. The town
contains two calico printing establishments, twelve
cotton mills, eight woolen mills, four shoe factories,
one tannery, two carriage manufactories, three paper
mills, two flouring mills, two sash and blind factories,
and two machine shops. In these not less than thirtyfive hundred operatives and mechanics find employment, and the wages paid by manufacturers to their
employes amount to more than a million and a quarter
of dollars.
These statistics include both the north and the south
IO7 
io8   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
villages of Adams; North Adams having rather more
than two-thirds of the population and the business.
It does not take the traveler long to discover that
North Adams is a village of great vigor and enterprise.
Capital is not suffered to lie idle in the vaults of banks;
it is constantly in motion. It is a thoroughly democratic town. The factitious class distinctions so commonly observed in the society of our larger villages
are not very obvious here. There is a more thorough
fusion of the various social orders than is usually found.
At a reception in the spacious parlors of one of the
wealthy citizens you will meet people of widely different stations and conditions, all on a footing of social
equality. The morality of the town is considerably
above the average of villages of its class. Manufacturing communities as large as this are always far from
perfect; but in a town that votes as this one did last
year, in a hotly contested struggle, three to one against
the licensing of open bars for the sale of liquor, drunkenness cannot be a very general vice; and it is fair to
estimate the morality of the town in other respects by
its vote on this question. It is quite common, in certain quarters, for various reasons, to disparage the
town of Adams, but readers of this little book will discover after stopping a week at the Wilson House that
there are many worse places.
A few elegant houses recently erected, three new
churches, and a magnificent new school-house on
the hill, in the centre of the village, which cost eighty
thousand dollars, show that the attention of the people 
THE STORY OF AN INVENTOR.
is being turned to architectural improvements. The
Wilson House is quite a phenomenon in a village of
this size, and visitors may be interested to know who
built it, and how it happened to be built.
This hotel is the property of Mr. Allen B. Wilson,
the inventor of the Wheeler and Wilson tsewing Machine, now a resident of Waterbury, Conn. The story
of his life, though wanting in tragic situations and remarkable feats, is worth reading. It is. the same old
story of struggle and want and ultimate triumph which
has been told of so many American inventors.
Wilson was born in the town of Willett, Cortland
County, N.Y. His father died in his early childhood,
and at the age of fifteen he was bound out to a relative
to learn the triple trade of carpenter, joiner and cabinet
maker.   This trade was supposed by his employer to
include such work as mowing Canada thistles, milking
cows and making maple sugar, at which Wilson was
kept the greater part of the time. Not fancying these
branches of the business, the apprentice ran away
after two years to a safe place among the Catskill
Mountains, where he hired out as a cabinet-maker.
In i847 he started westward as a tramping journeyman, in search of a fortune, working at cabinet-making
and carving in Cleveland, Chicago and several other
Western towns. At Burlington he was attacked and
prostrated by the fever and ague, a disease that followed him for seven years, and nearly wrecked him.
Slowly and sadly he made his way back to his country
home in Cortland County, where he passed a miser
Io9 
I IO    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
able winter, very poor in purse, and nearly broken in
spirit. In the spring of'48 he started, with very little
money in his pocket, to work his passage to New York,
designing thence to go to sea in the hope of mending
his health.   His first halt was at Homer, where he
hired himself out as a machinist; and although it was
a trade which he had never tried before, the discovery
was not made in the shop that he was a raw hand. At
Homer he remained, working for seventy-five cents a
day, till he had earned enough to carry him to New
York, making the journey by canal and steamboat.
There he found a sloop in the coasting trade, upon
which he shipped to work for his board, and paid his
last quarter of a dollar to have his tool chest carried
across the city. He remained on board this sloop
nearly all summer, and in the autumn, being somewhat
improved in health, found his way to Boston, where he
engaged for a time in joiner work. But though he was
a cunning workman in wood, an idea was brewing in
his mind which must find articulation in iron, and he
was eager to get into a machine shop.   Finding a
place in the locomotive works of Hinckley & Drury,
he started across the city with his tool chest-all his
wealth-when he was suddenly attacked with homesickness. The crooked streets of Boston looked unspeakably hateful to him; he could not bear the thought
of tarrying there another day; and as he drew near the
Western Railroad depot, he told the expressman with
whom he was riding to stop and unload his chest on
that platform. The first train carried him as far west 
EUREKA!
as Pittsfield, and that was about as far as his money
would go. Here he engaged in cabinet-making and
carving, stipulating for his evenings; for the idea which
had been buzzing in his brain ever since that winter of
I847-8 must be caught and caged. Wilson says that
the machine was invented during that enforced idleness in his own home in Cortland County, and that
ill-health alone delayed its construction.   Here, at
Pittsfield, in the leisure of his evenings, he built the
first machine. The dream was a reality. The reality
was better than the dream. From the start the machine
worked beautifully. It could be improved; but, just as
it was, it was a triumph of mechanical genius.  Parts
of the first machine were made of wood, and Wilson
wished to make it all of iron. The facilities for doing
machinists' work were not good in Pittsfield; so he
carried with him to North Adams the iron parts (which
still remain in his possession), and hiring out again as
a cabinet maker, employed his leisure in perfecting his
invention. Mr. J. N. Chapin, of North Adams, entered
into partnership with him in the construction of the
machine, and several were built. Meantime trouble
was brewing. Elias Howe, Jr., and Isaac M. Singer
had produced sewing machines, for which they were
endeavoring to obtain patents, and each claimed priority of invention over the other, and over Wilson.
Lawsuits were threatened, and Mr. Chapin, an excellent but cautions man, whose honesty and friendship
Wilson never doubted, sold out his interest in the
patent, and withdrew.  While Wilson was in New York,
I I I 
112   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
waiting for the issue of the patent, he invented the
rotary hook, one of the most exquisite mechanical
contrivances ever produced, and otherwise essentially
modified his machine.  Falling in with Mr. Nathaniel
Wheeler, Mr. Wilson entered into partnership with
him, and the improved machine took the name of the
firm of Wheeler and Wilson.
There has been considerable controversy both in
the courts and in the public prints about priority of
invention, and the honor has commonly been conferred
with some flourish of trumpets upon Mr. Elias Howe,
Jr., but these two things are certainly true:
I. Mr. Wilson invented a sewing machine, without
help or suggestion from Mr. Howe or anybody else,
and without ever having seen or heard of a sewing
machine. The idea was purely original with him.
2. The Wheeler and Wilson Machine was a practical
success from the beginning, distancing the Howe from
the start in the markets of the world.  It was heftrst
practical sewing machine ever made..
When Mr. Wilson left North Adams for New York
with his model in his valise to secure his patent, in the
spring of I850, it is not likely that he, or any of those
who knew him, expected that he would return, in the
summer of i865, with the Wilson House in his pocket.
This massive pile of brick and iron is only a small
part of the earnings of that cunning little workman whose low song has cheered so many tired
women.  With a kindly feeling toward the town where
the sun first began to shine uponi him, and where the 
WILSON HOUSE, NORTH ADAMS.
II    __                                 1   1             
________                                                                                   p __
________________'I                                               \\iIi  
I, 
THE WILSON HOUSE AND ITS KEEPERS.  113
best of fortunes came to him in the excellent wife who
has been to him a help-meet indeed in his subsequent
career, Mr. Wilson resolved to devote a portion of his
gains to the erection of this Hotel.
The Wilson House is, as you have already discovered, a first-class hotel.   Eight large stores, a fine
Public Hall, a Masonic Hall, a Manufacturers' Club
Room, and a Billiard Room are included within its
walls; and besides its spacious offices, its ample
dining-rooms, its large and well appointed kitchens,
pantries, store-rooms, its excellent baths, and its elegant parlors, it offers to guests a hundred airy and
well-furnished chambers.   The Post Office and the
Telegraph Office are in the house; the two railroad
stations are within three minutes walk; and the stages
of the tunnel line leave its doors. Over it preside two
genial and attentive landlords, of both of whom, if it
were not too much like boasting of its friends, this
little book could say a thousand things in praise.
However, "good wine needs no bush," and a hotel as
good as this needs no strenuous puffing.
WALKS.
After a bath and a breakfast, a walk to the NVatzlral
Bridge will be in order.   Up Main street to Eagle
street, then northward past the Eagle Mill and up the
hill, turning first to the eastward, then to the northward, then, wnen the top of the hill is reached, into a
cross-road running eastward. The view from this hill
top is magnificent. The village, Greylock, the South 
114    FROM THE  HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Adams valley, and the Williamstown valley, are all in
full view. The objects are the same that you saw from
the top of the Hoosac Mountain, but you have given
the kaleidoscope a turn and the new combination adds
a new glory. There is hardly a better view of the
Greylock group then you get at this point. Between
the main ridge of the mountain and the southern valley there is a lower ridge; the deep gulf that separates
the higher mountain from the lower one is called the
Notch; and the upper end of the Notch is the Bellows
Pipe. Greylock proper, is the highest peak, just west
of the Bellows Pipe.  Mount Williams is the northern
end of this high ridge, which overlooks the village;
Mount Fitch is the elevation of the ridge, midway between Greylock and Williams; and the western peak
of the mountain, overlooking Williamstown, is Mount
Prospect.
The cross-road that we follow eastward from the top
of the hill leads us down into the ravine through which
flows Hudson's Brook. Under the little wooden bridge
the water roars and rushes down the narrow channel it
has chiseled for itself in the limestone; below the road
is a chasm about fifteen feet wide, from thirty to sixty
feet deep and thirty rods long, spanned by an arch of
solid rock.   Before the days of the white men, the
water ran over this rock, and descended in a cascade
into the gorge below; but finding some small opening
under the rock which is now the Natural Bridge, it has
gradually worn this channel to its present depth. In
the soft limestone the swift water has done much beau 
THE CASCADE IN THE NOTCH BROOK.  I I 5
tiful and curious carving. Just below the arch a wellworn foot-path will conduct you to a rocky prominence
where you get an excellent view of the bridge and the
chasm.
You can return by the road that follows the brook
down to the lower Clarksburg road, and that will lead
you past the Beaver and the Glen Mills, through Union
street, back to your starting-point. The Natural Bridge
is not more than a mile from the hotel, and is easily
reached by carriages.
The Cascade in the Notch Brook is a mile and a half
from the hotel; and those who dare not venture upon
so long a walk can ride up the Williamstown road, past
the cemetery to the little drab factory village of Braytonville with its large brick mill, where a road running
south past a long red school-house leads up to a sawmill. Here alighting and fastening your steeds you
have less than half a mile to walk. The path follows
the Notch Brook through the fields up into a rough
and romantic glen, along the sides of which a foot-path
leads you till you are stopped by the precipice down
which the water is plunging. The perpendicular descent of the water is less than thirty feet, but the walls
of the chasm rise much higher. From the very brink
of the precipice on either side spring stately forest
trees that lock their branches across the abyss, and
almost hide the sky. The jagged walls of rock are
covered with beautiful growths of ferns and mosses
and lichens. Climb to.the top of the western cliff,
and follow the foot-paths that will lead you to all the 
I I6   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
best points of view; then lie down in silence upon
some mossy bank in sight of the tumbling waters and
yield yourself to the spell which the wild grandeur of
the scene will work upon you.
Those who have left no steeds behind them will do
well to follow the foot-path up the western bank of the
ravine, through the woods into the pastures, where they
will have a near view of the narrow trough between
the mountains known as the Notch. Here they may
cross the brook and follow the wood road on the eastern
side, that will lead them through the woods and pastures, over the hill and down into the village. It is
the road that passes the marble quarries, in full view
from the village. The village is supplied with water
from the Notch Brook. The dam is half a mile above
the cascade, and the road by which we return passes
the main reservoir on the top of the hill, and the distributing reservoir upon the eastern slope. The lower reservoir is high enough to give the water tremendous
force in the village, furnishing a valuable safeguard
against fire. A hose attached to a hydrant will throw
a stream through a nozzle an inch and a half in diameter to.the height of one hundred and twenty-five feet.
Two or three of these streams will drown the fiercest
fire in a twinkling; witness the numerous blackened
frames about the village too well saved.  Not only to
these lower uses does this water minister. It feeds
the little fountains that sparkle with what Mr. Poe
would call "a crystalline delight" along the public
ways in the village. 
0 
CASCADE IN THE NOTCH BROOK, NORTHI ADAMS. 
SHORTER WALKS.
As you descend the hill by this road, the view  is
charming.  The town shows here to good advantage;
the Hoosac Range is grandly outlined on the'western horizon, and the meadows above the village,
through which the winding path of the little river is
marked by the willows, are always delightfully fresh
and green.
Colegrove's Hill is north of the village.   At the
head of Eagle street two roads diverge, both running north.   Take the right hand road, and at the
end of it follow the path through a pasture, in
which a clump of tall pines is standing, to the top
of a round hill. The view is the same that you had
on the walk to the Natural Bridge, but wider and
more complete.
Afoint Adams invites the pedestrian to climb its
easy slope by various paths in view from the village;
and promises him an abundant reward for his toil.
Cluirch Hill is at the upper end of Main street. It
is quickly reached, and the views which it affords of
the gorge through which the north branoh flows, and
of the South Adams valley, are both excellent.
In short, it may be said that while the streets of
the village offer few stylish promenades, all men and
women who have stout shoes, short skirts and a love
of the beautiful may find, by climbing any hill road or
mountain path in the region, a prospect that will delight the eye, an appetite that will make the plainest
food delicious, and that unfretted bodily fatigue which
brings sweet and refreshing sleep.
I I7 
II8   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
DRIVES.
Now, good traveler, we can offer you an entertainment whose variety is almost unbounded and whose
delight is perpetual. Perhaps you have heard other
New England villages boast of the drives in their
neighborhood. Each several town in this Commonwealth, if we may take the testimony of its inhabitants, is approached on every side by country roads of
the most remarkable beauty; affording splendid views,
and leading through delightful places.   Just as all
parents believe their children to be the brightest and
best of the race, so all New England villagers regard
the drives about their several villages as the most
beautiful in the world. Eyes that are anointed with
love can see beauty in the face of the homeliest child,
and discern untold dignity and worth in the dullest
human soul; and there is some excellent oil by which
the eyes of men in every place are touched to an appreciation of the natural beauty that surrounds them.
The added testimony of the villagers is a tribute to
the glory of the creation.   All these scenes  are
beautiful.   Skies, forests, green meadows, fields of
grain, hills and valleys, brooks and lakes and rivers
are always beautiful; and they furnish to those who
dwell among them, an enjoyment of which they never
grow weary.
As for the children, however, you and I, my dear
madam, are not surprised that Stubbs and his wife
should think for themselves that their baby is beautiful, 
BABIES AND THE BERKSHIRE HILLS. I 19
but surely they cannot expect us to think so.  It is
natural for every parent to admire his own children;
but it would be absurd for some parents to expect
other folks to admire their children. However, there
are some children, ours for instance, whom everybody
must admire. No one can hep acknowvledging that
they are the handsomest and most intelligent children
anywhere to be found. That is too obvious to be argued about. And in like manner, those of us who live
in North Adams, do not wonder that the average New
England villager admires, in a general way, the scenery
of his neighborhood. It is quite commendable in him
to do so. And yet, it would be absurd in him to insist
that we should go into ecstacies over his frog-ponds and
sheep-pastures. But our drives, of course, are quite
incomparable. Everybody will say that there is nothing like them in Massachusetts.   Which, my  dear
madam, there is not. You have heard of the Berkshire Hills.  These upon which you have been looking
in your walks, and to which we shall further introduce
you in your drives are the Berkshire Hills. And it is
safe to say that until you came to North Adams you
had never seen any Berkshire Hills worth mentioning,
unless, indeed, you had visited Mount Washington, in
the south-eastern corner of the county. People sometimes go to Lenox or Stockbridge or Pittsfield, and
imagine that they have visited the hills of Berkshire.
Now these are all very respectable towns, and quite
worth going to see; but the supposition that one finds
the Berkshire Hills within their borders is a very good 
120   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
joke indeed. One who has never seen the Deerfield
Gorge or the Adams Valley from Hoosac Mountain;
who has never climbed to the top of Prospect, or Bald
Mountain, or Mount Hopkins, or Greylock; who has
never invaded the awful stillness of that sacred place
which is known by the profane name of the Hopper,such a person should talk modestly of Berkshire
scenery. He may have seen elsewhere in Berkshire,
some very pretty views, and, if Mount Everett and Bashbish have come within the range of his travels, some
grand ones,-but with this latter exception, the only
scenery in Berkshire that is really notable for grandeur,
is in these three towns of Florida, Adams, and Williamstown. It is true that Greylock may be seen on
a clear day with the naked eye from Pittsfield and
other towns in Southern Berkshire, but one who looks
upon it from that distance cannot even conjecture the
grand configurations of mountain forms, that are visible here from any valley, or the marvellous magnificence of the prospect from any of these summits.
Mountains are to the traveler, what his best achievements are to the wise man, beautiful not so much in
themselves as in the outlook they afford. And they
who look from the slightly undulating surfaces of
Southern Berkshire upon the outline of Greylock in
the northern horizon, know but little of the sublimity
of the visions they might have if they would climb to
his top. Visiting the Berkshire Hills without going
north of Pittsfield, is like the play of Hamlet with a
good likeness of Hamlet in the upper left hand corner 
FORT MASSACHUSETTS.
of the drop scene, and no other hint or mention of
him during the performance.
Our first drive shall be along a charming valley road
to a place of precious memory,-dear and sacred old
WILLIAMSTOWN.        t
Just beyond Braytonville the highway crosses the
Troy and Boston Railroad; the white house and farm
buildings of Mr. Bradford Harrison are on the right,
and on the left, in the meadow, twenty or thirty rods
from the railroad, a small elm tree is growing. That
tree was planted by students of Williams College, in
the year I857, to mark the site of old Fort Massachusetts.
During the French and Indian wars, the invading
forces from Canada more frequently followed the
course of the Connecticut River southward into Massachusetts; but occasionally they came down by way of
Lake Champlain, the Hudson and the Hoosac Valleys,
crossing the Hoosac Mountain at this point, and following the Deerfield River down to the Connecticut.
To protect the settlements against these incursions Fort
Massachusetts was built, about I744. It does not require any profound knowledge of military science to
discover that the fort was badly placed. The rocky
bluffs on the north were within rifle range, and from
them an enemy could look down into the stockade and
ascertain the strength of its garrison.  "A judicious
choice of posts," says General Hoyt, "and the principles of fortifications, though probably understood by
6
I2I 
I22   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
the engizeers of the time, seem not to have been regarded in early wars. Most of these works were built
on low grounds, often in the vicinity of commanding
heights, generally constructed of single stockades without ditches or flanking posts, capable only of a direct
fire, and against the lightest artilley untenable." But
what these pioneer soldiers lacked in science they
mhade up in courage. Fort Massachusetts is poorly
located, but it was defended by some of the bravest
men that ever lived; and it was the scene of one of
the pluckiest fights recorded in our history.
Captain (afterward Colonel) Ephraim Williams was
the first commander of the defences in this neighborhood, and his head-quarters were in Fort Massachusetts.   During the summer of I 746 an expedition
against Canada was projected, Captain Williams was
summoned to Albany to join it, and the garrison was
left in the charge of Sergeant John Hawks with only
twenty-two effective men. After the departure of Captain Williams, Indians were seen prowling about the
heights, north of the fort; and on the 20th of August,
a force of nine hundred French and Indians, under
the command of General Rigaud de Vandreuil, seized
this hill on the right of the road where the chestnut
woods now stand, and sent to Sergeant Hawks a demand for the surrender of the fort. The sergeant had
no artillery, and but a poor supply of ammunition; but
he promptly rejected the proposal of the French commander, and with his twenty-two brave men defended
the fort for twenty-eight hours against the overwhelm 
NEW E NGLAND'S THERMOPYL2E.
ing force of the enemy.  Every Indian or Frenchman
who came out from the safe cover of the forest was a
target for these twenty-two sharp-shooters; and some
were killed at the long range of sixty rods. The ammunition of the garrison was finally exhausted, and Hawks
capitulated, making the condition that his forces should
be humanely treated as prisoners of war, and should
not be delivered to the Indians. The French commander accepted his terms of capitulation, and perfidiously violated them the following day by surrendering half of the prisoners into the hands of the Indians.
One man who was sick and unable to march was killed
by the savages; the others were taken to Canada as
prisoners, and were finally exchanged. The assailants
lost forty-seven men before the fort; while of the brave
little garrison only one was killed. The bravery of
Sergeant Hawks was rewarded by promotion; afterward, in the war of 1755 he rose to the rank of lieutenant-colonel.   "Bold, hardy and  enterprising, he
acquired the confidence and esteem of his superior
officers and was entrusted with important commands.
He was io less valued by the inhabitants of Deerfield,
his native town, for his civil qualities."*
The ambuscade at the Bars in the Deerfield Meadow,
to which allusion has already been made, was formed by
a party of these Indians under Vandreuil, who crossed
the mountain after the surrender of the fort and made
their way to Deerfield. The fort was demolished by
its captors, but was rebuilt and more strongly garri
* Hoyt's Indian Wars, p. 238.
123 
I124 FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
soned during the following year.   In all the subse quent wars with the French and Indians, until the
Peace of Paris in 1763 this fort was a post of much
importance, and frequent mention is made of it in
the old histories.
From the time of the building of the fort until
1755, the command of the forces and the defences of
this region devolved as we have seen, upon Colonel
Ephraim Williams, a native of Newton, and onfie of the
first settlers of Stockbridge. Though frequently called
to active service elsewhere his head-quarters were at
this fort, and with the few settlers who occupied this
valley he had thoroughly identified himself, sharing
their perils and privations,' and studying their welfare.
In the year I735, Colonel Williams, then in command
of a regiment, was summoned to join General Johnson,
whose head-quarters were then at the head of Lake
George, near the site of the present village of Caldwell. On his way to this post, with an apparent presentiment of his fate, the Colonel halted at Albany and
made hi, will on the 22d of July; in which, after several bequests to his relatives and friends he dlirected
"that the remainder of his land should be sold at the
discretion of his executors within five years after an
established peace; and that the interest of the monies
arising from the sale, and also the interest of his notes
and bonds, should be applied to the support of a free
school in a township west of Fort Massachusetts, forever; provided said township fall within Massachusetts,
on running the line between Massachusetts and New 
THE GRAVE OF A HERO.
York; and providing the said township when inc6rporated shall be called Williamstown."
On the 8th of September, following, he was despatched from the camp on Lake George at the head
of twelve hundred men upon a most important and
hazardous enterprise; and falling into,an ambuscade
of French and Indians was shot through the head.
His body was buried near the spot where he fell, on
the right of the road running from Glen's Falls to
Caldwell, and in the vicinity of Bloody Pond, a lakelet which on that day received its terrible christening.
A large rock has always been pointed out as marking
the spot where he fell; and upon this rock the students
of Williams College a few years ago erected a marble
monument,  with an appropriate  inscription.   The
writer of this book well remembers descending one
midnight from the stage-coach in which, a. lonely
passenger, he was making his way over the old warpath from Lake George to the Hudson; and clambering under the light of the stars up the rude foot-path
to the rock among the bushes, where the little marble
obelisk guards the dust of this brave and good soldier.
The provision in the will of Colonel Williams was
the foundation of Williams College.  The sum thus
bequeathed was increased by donations of individuals,
and by a pious lottery which the Legislature granted
to the trustees of the fund, until, in I790, the solid
walls of old West College were erected, and a considerable fund was placed at interest to assist in maintaining the school. It consisted at first of two depart
I;
I25 
126   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
ments-an academy or grammar school and an English
free school, and was under the care of Mr. Ebenezer
Fitch, a graduate of Yale.  In I793 it was erected into
a college, and the first class, numbering four, was graduated September 2, 1795. Dr. Fitch continued at the
head of the college till i8i5, and was succeeded by
Rev. Zephaniah Swift Moore, D. D. An effort was
made in i8i8 to transfer the college to Northampton,
but after a stormy and protracted contest the Legislature decided against a change of location. Upon this,
Dr. Moore who had favored the removal, resigned the
presidency; and Rev. Edward Dorr Griffin, of great
fame as a theologian and a pulpit orator, was called to
succeed him. Under his administration the college
which had been in a low condition for several years,
regained its prosperity. In I836, he was compelled
by declining health to withdraw from the position which
he had so abundantly honored, and his mantle fell upon
one who was worthy to wear it, and who for thirty-three
years has worn it worthily. Wonderful aptitude for
teaching, great prudence and skill in administration,
dignity of demeanor and purity of character have
made him the most revered and most illustrious, as
he is now the oldest college president in the land;
while his contributions to philosophy and his active
participation in the various enterprises of Christian
benevolence, have gained for him the admiration and
confidence of good men everywhere. Under the management of President Hopkins and his efficient coadjutors in the faculty, the college has advanced to a 
THE ROAD TO WILLIAMSTOWN.
leading position. The number of students is not so
large as in some of our New England colleges, varying
from two hundred to two hundred and fifty, but the
instruction is all given by professors of experience,
instead of being entrusted, as in many colleges, to
incompetent tutors; thus securing a thoroughness not
easily attainable under the other system.
From this valley road the profile of the mountain
on the south resembles a saddle; and this likeness
gave to this group of hills of which Greylock is the
central eminence, the ugly name of Saddle Mountain,
by which it is known in the geographies. The highest
of the two peaks visible at this point, and the one
nearest North Adams, is Mount Williams; the other
is Mount Prospect.
Just beyond Fort Massachusetts, in the center of
the valley, is the Greylock Cotton Mill, amid its cluster
of drab cottages.
Blackinton is the name of the neat white factory
village a mile further west. The woolen mill of S.
Blackinton & Son built the village and one of the largest fortunes in Berkshire. The little brown wooden
building in which the senior proprietor begun the
business, working with his own hands,-is standing a
little west of the mill. We cross the railroad and the
river by a covered bridge beyond Blackinton, and soon
after ascend a little eminence in the road from which
the whole valley opens magnificently.   In the west,
and running-far to the north are the Taghkanic Hills
with their swelling slopes and their wavy outlines;
I27 
I128 FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
between them and the hill on our right, which is a
ocontinuation of Mount Adams, and is known on this
side indifferently as Oak Hill and East Mountain, the
green valley of the Hoosac narrows to a gorge in the
north-west; in the northern horizon The Dome, a noble
and symmetrical peak, is built up into the sky; on the
south the wooded ridge of Prospect stretches away
toward the Hopper, the opening of which is scarcely
visible; in the east beyond the narrow opening be tween Mount Adams and the southern group the mas sive battlements of the Hoosac Mountain close the
scene. Within this circle of hills a most charming
valley is included.  Observe the beautiful variety of
surface; the natural grouping of the trees upon the
slopes; the picturesque and park-like appearance of
the whole landscape.
Soon we pass through the factory grounds at the
lower end of the village; cross another covered bridge,
ascend a little hill and find ourselves at the foot of the
broad and shady street on which the old village is built.
Williamstown, like Boston, boasts its three hills, each
of which in its day was crowned with historic edifices,
but from one of them the glory has departed. At the
top of the first hill on the right stands Griffin Hall, once the chapel, but now containing the college cabinet,
and the headquarters of the Natural History Depart ment. In front of Griffin Hall upon the brow of the
hill is the soldiers' monument-a freestone shaft, sur mounted by the bronze statue of a soldier,-erected
in honor of the Williams boys who fell in the late war. 
CLASSIC SHADES.
Just beyond Griffin Hall is Goodrich Hall, a noble
stone edifice, the gift of Hon. John Z. Goodrich of
Stockbridge, containing the Gymnasium, the Bowling
Alley, and the Chemical Laboratory.   Across the
street are East and South Colleges,-dormitories occupied by the Senior and Junior Classed. Lawrence
Hall is an octagonal building named in honor of Amos
Lawrence, one of the most liberal patrons of the college; which contains the Library, the collection of portraits of graduates, and some sculptures in bas-relief
from ancient Nineveh. Just beyond Lawrence Hall
is the Chapel with Alumni Hall in the rear. Southeast of the group of buildings, nearly hidden from the
street by the foliage, is the Astronomical Observatory
-the first one built on this continent-the Magnetic
Observatory, and Jackson Hall, built by Nathan Jackson, Esq.> of New York, another generous friend of
the college, and occupied by the Lyceum of Natural
History.   The tower of this building commands an
excellent view of the valley and its encircling hills.
The new Congregational Church is on the right beyond this first group of college buildings.   On the
top of the next hill,. old West College, the original
Academy and Free School, erected in I790, stands
on the left. This budding and Kellogg Hall in its
rear, are dormitories for the Sophomore and Freshman Classes. The President's mansion is opposite
West College.
At the head of the street, upon the western eminence,
perished by fire, three winters ago, the old Congrega            6*
I29 
130   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
tional Meeting-House. Williamstown street without
the old church at the head of it, is a song without a
cadence. To many of the graduates, Williamstown
will never be quite herself again, now that the old
church is no more.
Just beyond West College we turn to the right into
a street leading. to Mills Park, an enclosure of ten
acres, in which a marble shaft surmounted by a globe,
marks the spot where Samuel J. Mills and his associates met by a hay-stack in i807, to consecrate themselves to the work of foreign missions. That was the
beginning in America of this great enterprise of Christian benevolence.
Returning to the principal street, we go on westward
and turn to the north at the Mansion House. Following the road through the valley at the foot of the
Taghkanic range for a mile and a half, we turn to the
right into a cross-road which leads up to a little group
of plain brown buildings with a sloping green in front
of them. These are the little hostelry and bathinghouses of the Williamstown Mineral Spring,-known
to fame in these quarters, and among graduates of
Williams College everywhere, as the "Sand Spring."
The temperature of the water, the supply of which is
abundant, is about 70~ Fahrenheit the year round;
and while it is said to be a valuable alterative and tonic
in many diseases, it furnishes one of the most delicious
baths ever enjoyed by mortals. In the cure of cutaneous diseases these baths are said to be remarkably
efficacious. How true this may be with regard to other 
A SOVEREIGN REMEDY.
forms of skin disease we know not; but for that form
of the disease which is most prevalent and most fatal,known among the ancients as spurcitia or aKa.aprLa, and
among the moderns by a name so common that it is
hardly worth while to repeat it, they are certainly a
specific. In the little bathing-house you will find swimming baths, plunge baths, shower baths, and all necessary conveniences for the refreshment and purification
of the outer man.   Give them a thorough trial and
you will return to you lodgings cleaner, handsomer,
happier and better men and women.
SOUTH ADAMS AND THE NOTCH.
The East Road to South Adams is the continuation
of South Church street.   For the first two miles it
runs between the mountain and a series of diluvial hillocks that stand at its base. These conical mounds
frequently occur in the country, but they are not often
found so symmetrically disposed as at this point.
They are composed of sand and gravel, and so regular
are they in form that it is easy to suppose them to be
the work of human hands. The earlier theory was
that they were erected by the primitive races, either
as fortifications or as burial mounds; and this theory
has found poetical expression in one of Whittier's latest
and best lyrics,-" The Grave by the Lake." But the
geologists say, (and who can confute the geologists?)
that these mounds were caused by the action of water;
though just how the water could have piled them up
in their present forms they do not tell us very definitely.
I3I 
132   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
Two miles south of the village a mound is seen on
the left hand side of the road which, it is pretty safe
to conjecture, is the work of men's hands. It is composed of the earth taken out of the open cutting at
the western portal of the Hoosac Tunnels The embankment of the railroad is built as far as the highway,
and the road to the tunnel follows the embankment.
For an account of what is to be seen at this point the
reader is referred to the preceding chapter.
Having "done" the west end and the west shaft
in much less time than the Messrs. Shanly with all
their energy will require to do them; and having explored, if we have a taste for such explorations, the
Nitro-glycerine Works near the shaft where Mr. Mowbray manufactures the mild mixture, whose liquid eloquence so gently persuades the rocks asunder, we
go on southward. Two miles beyond the tunnel we
reach an eminence in the road upon which we shall
do well to pause and look about us.   At the head of
the valley in the north, walled in on three sides by
the mountains, lies the village of North Adams; before
us is South Adams, and the beautiful hills beyond, in
Cheshire, and Savoy; between these two villages the
eye range over the whole six miles of fertile valleya carpet of cunning patterns and matchless coloring,
seamed by the railway and embroidered by the river;
and directly opposite, across the valley is the majestic
front of Greylock, rising abruptly from the plain below to a height of three thousand feet above the river
bed and thirty-five hundred feet above tide water. 
HOOSAC TUNNEL-WESTERN PORTAL. 
I, 
SOUTH ADAMS FROM THE NORTH.
A mile further on the road follows a brook down
into the village of South Adams through which we
may drive briskly; admiring the enterprise that keeps
so many mills running busty, the public spirit that
has built so fine a school-house as the one we see
upon the hill, and the taste that has begun as in North
Adams to ornament and improve the private residences
and grounds.
Near the depot a street leads westward directly to ward the base of Greylock; that we follow to the old
Quaker Meeting-House, then turn to the right into the
mountain road that leads over the lower ridge of the
Greylock group into the Notch. There is hard climb ing before us, but we shall have our reward. As soon
as we reach that eminence just above us, we will look
backward. On our right the Hoosac range lifts up its
level rampart-soufiward the lines of the horizon are
broken by the bolder peaks of the Cheshire mountains.
Just below us, in the widening of the valley lies South
Adams, and beyond it are the eastward slopes, over
which the Williamsburg and North Adams Railroad is
to run through Savoy. It is a very pretty picture, but
we must not stay to look upon it, for there are richer
prospects before us.  A little further on we flank a
forest that has stood between us and the valley on our
right, and reach a point from which we can look right
down into the beautiful meadows through which the
Hoosac River runs. Did grass ever grow greener than
the grass of those meadows, or was sunshine ever
brighter than this golden flood that fills the valley with
133 
134   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
its splendor? Look at the river with its willow fringes
winding down through the meadows. Plainly it is in
no hurry. In its quiet search of coolness and beauty
it explores the whole vatey. More than once it goes
back as if it had forgotten something,-to bathe some
thirsty cresses perhaps, or to sing its low sweet song
in the shade of some alder-bushes. The river had a
hard passage through South Adams. It had to go
through the mill-several mills, indeed. The waterwheels churned it into foam; the flumes led it through
dark and perilous passages; the dyers stained its
purity with logwood and copperas. It was made a
menial servant and a scavenger. It did not enjoy
town life, at all. And now that it has escaped into
the quiet country again, it means to make the most of
the country delights. So it lingers as long as it can
in these green fields, and among these sedges. If it
only knew what it must pass through at North Adams
it would stay even longer, I think.
While we have been looking down into this valley,
our steed has been tugging up a steep acclivity, and
suddenly, as we reach the top, there opens before us a
new scene. I think we can afford now to let our horse
have a breathing spell. A panorama opens before us
here, that we shall not tire of looking at till he is rested.
Far away to the northward opens the valley through
which the north branch of the Hoosac flows down from
the mountains of Vermont. On the east the Hoosac
range stretches away toward the north as far as the
eye can see: from the hills of Savoy behind us to the 
DOWN INTO THE NOTCH.
northern horizon in Readsboro, there must be nearly
twenty miles of this straight unbroken mountain chain,
whose eastern slope is in full view. On the east our
vision is bounded by the range of which Mount Adams
is the southern abutment. Between these two ranges
the valley stretches away narrowing toward its northern
extremity till it is lost in the blue distance between the
hills. This view is not so extensive as the view from
Greylock or Mount Hopkins or the farther side of the
Hoosac Mountain, but one would hardly be willing to
admit that it is less beautiful than the fairest of them.
Going on a little farther we reach a little eminence,
from which the view is widened somewhat; the northern portion of North Adams comes into plain view,
and Mount Adams confronts us with its solid grandeur of outline.
Now we turn to the westward, passing on the left
the signal station'built by Mr. Doane for keeping the
range of the tunnel,-and begin a rapid descent. To
timid persons this may seem a perilous passage, but
the road is smooth, and with a skillful driver, a steady
horse and a stout harness there is not a particle of
danger. If you were inclined to be afraid the laughing of this little brook by the roadside would reassure
you. Soon we emerge from the thicket of low birches
and wild cherry trees through which we have been
winding and find ourselves in the Notch. On the one
side rises the steep flank of the mountain over which
we have just passed-on the other tower Greylock,
Fitch and Williams- a trinity of majestic mountain
135 
136   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
peaks. Now you see the reason why the wind blows
so furiously here in winter.  The  north-west gales
coming up the Hoosac Valley are stopped in their
course by the northern spur of the hill over which we
have passed; and instead of following the river to
South Adams they take this shorter course through
the Notch. At its southern end the Notch grows narrow and if you stand at the very extremity of it, where
it opens into the south Adams Valley on some windy
day in March, you would be able to understand why
it has been called the Bellows Pipe.  It may occur to
some travelers that no name has been given to the
ridge over which we have just climbed,-which runs
parallel with the Greylock ridge and extends from the
marble quarries at North Adams nearly to the village
of South Adams. Until now it has been nameless,
as it certainly does not deserve to be. A mountain
that affords so grand a prospect, and'the highest peak
of which rises not less than two thousand five hundred
feet above the level of the sea-nearly three times as
high as the famous Mount Holyoke might claim at
least the barren honor of a name. By what name
shall it be called? That gallant soldier whose heroism
is recorded in this chapter,-who held what  Mr.
Everett called the Thermopylae of New England, so
bravely for so many hours, against such fearful odds,
is without honor in the country he defended by his
valor. The soldier deserves a monument; the mountain deserves a name; why may we not fittingly write
the soldier's name upon the mountain, and let MOUNT 
THE VALLEY FROM THE BLUFF.
HAWKS perpetuate the memory of a man whom Massachusetts cannot afford to forget.
When we emerge from the Notch, we follow the
road around the base of Mount Williams to a point on
the western slope of the hill, where we turn sharply to
the right and descend. If, however, we are not too
weary, we shall find it to our account to drive westward for a mile or more along the road that follows
the top of the bluff. Near the foot of Prospect, we
may halt upon the top of a declivity where the best
view is obtained of the Taghkanic range. The bold
outline of these beautiful hills, the deep ravines that
furrow their sides, and the transverse ridges that are
built like buttresses against their solid wall, are grandly
shown at this point. From any point of this bluff, as
well as from the road by which we descend when we
return, the view of the Hoosac Valley, overlooked by
the beautiful Williamstown upon its classic heights,
holding in its lap the busy Blackinton and Greylock,
and parted by the winding river that turns with equal
facility the wheels of the mills and the sentences of the
sophomores, is a view not to be missed by any sojourner among the hills of Berkshire.
MOUNT HOPKINS
is the highest peak of the Taghkanic chain. As you
pass over the hill at the Cemetery, going toward Williamstown, it lies directly before you. One of the indentations in the horizon is cleared of timber for some
distance; on the right of this clearing are two bold
I37 
3    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
I38 I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
peaks that are nameless; on the left is Mount Hopkins.
Its twin summits, withl but little distance or depression
between them, bear the name of the honored President
of Williams College and his no less honored brother,
Professor Albert Hopkins, who for many years has
occupied the chair of Natural Phil6sophy and Astronomy in Williams College; whose enterprise built the
Astronomical and the Magnetic Observatories; whose
taste adorned the College grounds; whose name is the
synonym of the truest Christian integrity, and whose
love of nature has qualified him to be her chief interpreter in all this region. No man knows the beauty
of Berkshire so well, no man loves it with so pure an
enthusiasm as Professor Hopkins. The tribute of respect which is paid to him in bestowing his name upon
this mountain is but a slight recognition of what he has
done to lead his neighbors and his pupils into the
knowledge and the love of the true, the good and the
beautiful.
The road to Mount Hopkins leads through Williamstown; turns to the left, just beyond the site of the old
church; a mile further on, descends to the left, at another parting of the ways, into a deep ravine; at the
end of another mile, turns to the right through a beautiful wood; after emerging from which, it passes an old
school-house, and keeps to the left up a hill, the top of
which is reached by difficult climbing, when we find
ourselves in the clearing upon which we looked from
the Cemetery hill.  At this point, the eastern view
of Greylock, the Hopper on its western side, the Adams 
FROM THE TOP OF MT. HOPKINS.
Valley, the Hoosac Mountains beyond, and the western
view of the deep valleys and the billowy hills stretching away for thirty miles toward the valley of the Hudson, are to a lowlander somewhat notable. Turning
to the left, into the pasture, we follow a wagon track
up a steep acclivity, and pass through a wood into a
clearing. An old cellar marks the site of a farm-house
which once stood here. What could have induced any
human being to build for himself a habitation upon
this mountain top it is difficult to guess. We pass
through another wood, and emerge at length into a
clearing upon the summit of Mount Hopkins, from
which the view is perfect in every direction. On the
north are the Green Mountains of Vermont; on the
east Greylock, whose grandeur you never have known
till you have looked upon him from this summit; on
the south the Taghkanic range and the valleys that
divide it, and on the west the magnificent reach of cultivated hills. The boats on the Hudson can be seen
with a glass on a clear day. The view on the south is
perhaps the longest  remembered.   Here as hardly
anywhere else in this region one gets an impression of
the stupendous forces that have reared these mountain ridges.
This surnit is two thousand eight hundred feet
above tide-water, and it is reached in a carriage, without great difficulty, by a two hours' ride from North
Adams. The tourist should be provided with a compass, a field-glass, a lunch and warm wrappings; he
should get an early start that he may enjoy the western
I39 
I40   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
view with the sun at his back, and he should drive
homeward at the close of the afternoon.
Of the other excursions that may be made from
North Adams the mention must be brief. Among
those more distant we may mention the drive to Mount
Anthony near Bennington, where from an observatory
one hundred and fifty feet high an extended and diversified view is obtained of the whole of this mountainous region.
The excursion to Pittsfield, through Williamstown
and Lanesboro, passing Pontoosuc Lake, is easy and
delightful. To make it perfect, cross the Taghkanic
range from Pittsfield to New Lebanon, visit the SHAKERS, spend the night at the Springs, and return the
next day through Hancock and South Williamstown.
Snow Glen is a deep fissure on the western side of
the Taghkanics, beyond Williamstown, where snow
may be found in midsummer. The western prospect
is similar to that from Mount Hopkins, but less beautiful.  The carriage road passes within two miles of the
glen, andl the rest of the journey must be made on foot.
Among the drives in the immediate vicinity of North
Adams, one of the most beautiful follows the north
branch of the Hoosac to Stamford; returning leaves
the valley road at a crossing near a school-house, and
follows the base of the Hoosac Mountain, passing one
road that turns to the right, and after that keeping to
the right till it reaches the "]Five Points" a mile east
of the village of North Adams.
The view from the farm-house of Mr. Joseph Wheeler,
.,
i 
EXCELSIOR!
whose red buildings are seen from the village on the
side of Mount Adams is a delightful one. In short it
may be said of the drives as of the walks, that there
is no road leading out of North Adams from which
you may not gain, without traveling far, prospects
which, to use the Frenchman's climax, are either magnificent, sublime, or pretty good.
TO THE TOP OF GREYLOCK.
We have been under the shadow of Greylock long
enough to have some desire to climb to his summit.
To have had this view first would have dulled our enjoyment of the scenes upon which we have been looking. Moreover, this tramp to the top of Greylock
requires some physical stamina, and it is fair to suppose that those who have spent a week in the bracing
air of these Berkshire Hills are in better condition for
such an undertaking than they were when they came.
There was good reason, therefore, for keeping the good
wine till the end of the feast.
At the time of the writing of these pages it is difficult to give full information as to the best way of ascending Greylock. Three different roads have been
followed, all of which have their advantages.   One
climbs Bald Mountain, south of the Hopper; another
ascends the southern side of the mountain from South
Adams; the third leaves the Notch Road at the house
of Mr. Walden, winds round the northern end of Mount
Williams, passes through a clearing known as Wilbur's
Pasture between Williams and Prospect; then climbs
I41 
I42   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
the ridge on its western side, and follows it southward
to the clearing on the top of Greylock. At present
these roads are all bad; a long tramp must be taken
after carriages and horses are left behind; but move ments are now on foot to improve one or more of them,
so that it may be possible to reachr the top on horse back if not in carriages. The view from the summit
is not so good as it would be if a tower were erected
there. The top of the mountain is cleared, but the
forest that surrounds the clearing, while it does not
greatly interfere with the distant view, shuts out from
our vision the valleys in the immediate neighborhood,
and without a sight of these the prospect is incomplete. A structure of some sort, forty or fifty feet
in height, would give us both the near and the distant landscape. Several years ago such a tower was
erected, but through accident or mischievous design it
was destroyed by fire. It is hoped that another may
be erected early in the present season.
Of the roads to the top of Greylock, the one which
ascends from South Adams is said to be the easiest;
but for grandeur of scenery either of the others is to
be preferred. No tourist should fail to visit the Hopper whether he ascends the mountain by that route or
not. Following up Money Brook from the South Williamstown road you find yourselves at the entrance of
this stupendous amphitheatre of hills. The gorge by
which the brook flows out, between Prospect on the
north and Bald Mountain on the south is very narrow; and these two mountains, together with Greylock
*1 
MONEY BROOK AND THE HOPPER.
which rises directly before us as we enter, constitute
the three sides of this wonderful gulf. Ascending this
brook for a mile and a half you may find upon its
southern branch the most remarkable waterfall in this
region. The water comes down from a great height
in successive leaps; the rocks over which it tumbles
rise one above another in semicircular tiers like the
seats in a theater; and their sides are always green
with the most beautiful hanging moss. This is a cascade which has been visited by very few persons, and
the writer of this book is not one of them. You have
this account, therefore, at second hand, but it is none
the less reliable on that account.
It will not do, however, to attempt the exploration
of Money Brook and its cascade on the same day
in which we climb Greylock. That must be a separate excursion.   It is enough before you climb Bald
Mountain if you ascend the stream for a little way,
that you may gain some adequate impression of the
loftiness and steepness of the close mountain walls
that form the sides of this enormous gulf.
Ascending now to the top of Bald Mountain, follow
its naked summit nearly to its most northerly point,
and there the gulf opens before you,-a yawning abyss
from which people with nerves are apt to shrink. The
chasm is more than a thousand feet in depth, and from
the point where you are standing the four sides seem
to converge to a point at the bottom. With the exception of a few land-slides this gulf is wooded on all
sides from base to summit. The wonder is that these
I43 
I 44    FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
slides are not more frequent, and that the mountains
are not denuded of their forests, so precipitous are
their sides.  Occasional patches of black spruce relieve the lighter foliage of the slopes. Probably this
world does not contain a more gorgeous show of autumnal coloring than is visible heve in early October.
Passing on from Bald Mountain north-westerly we
reach at length the summit of Greylock, and stand
upon the highest land in Massachusetts. An enthusiastic person can hardly be trusted to tell what is visible from this summit. "I know of no place," says
President Hitchcock, "where the mind is so forcibly
impressed by the idea of vastness and even of immensity, as when the eye ranges abroad from this eminence! "   Immensity! no smaller word will fit the
scene.
The physical geography of the surrounding region is
such as to give to this view all the elements of sublimity. A single mountain peak or range, in the midst of
a comparatively level country, may afford a prospct of
extent, variety and beauty; but it cannot show us the
glories that Greylock reveals from his summit. Here
is a belt of mountains extending from the Connecticut
River nearly to the Hudson-a distance of fifty or
sixty miles-and from the sources of the Connecticut
River to Long Island Sound.  "To regard these highlands," says Dr. Palfrey, "as simply ranges of hills
would not be to conceive of them aright. They are
vast swells of land of an average elevation of a thousand feet above the level of the sea,... from which, 
THE CROWNING GLORY.
as from a base, mountains rise in chains or in isolated
groups to an altitude of several thousand feet more."
The two mountain ranges which pass through these
highlands-the Hoosac and the Taghkanic chains have, according to the same authority, "a regular in crease from south to north. From a height of less
than a thousand feet in Connecticut, they rise to an
average of twenty-five hundred feet in Massachusetts,
where the majestic Greylock, isolated between the two
chains, lifts its head to the stature of thirty-five hundred feet." It will be seen, therefore, that Greylock
commands a view of exceptional grandeur. Down at
his feet lies the valley of the Hoosac, nearly three
thousand feet below; Pittsfield, with its beautiful lakes,
and many smaller villages, are seen in the valleys and
on the adjacent slopes; south-westward the eye sweeps
over the top.of the Taghkanics, away to the Catskills
beyond the Hudson; north-westward the peaks of the
Adirondacks, in Northern New York, are plainly visible;
in the north the sturdy ridges of the Green Mountafhs
file away in grand outline; on the east Monadnock
and Wachusett renew their stately greeting, and Tom
and Holyoke look up from their beautiful valley; southward Mount Everett stands sentinel at the portal of
Berkshire, through which the Housatonic flows; and
all this grand circuit is filled with mountains.   Range
beyond range, peak above peak, they stretch away on
every side, a boundless expanse of mountain summits.
Standing here, and taking in with your eye all that is
contained within the vague boundaries of the horizon,
7
I
I45 
I46     FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
you receive one of the grandest if not the very first
impression you ever had of distance, of immensity, and
of illimitable force. It is well if one can see the sunset and the sunrise from this eminence. With a bed
of hemlock boughs for a couch and an army blanket
for a covering, any robust person of either sex will
sleep soundly after the fatigue of the ascent, and a
cloudless evening and morning will make amends for
any amount of discomfort.
It will be better to return by a different route from
that by which we ascended. The road which follows
the ridge northward, then descends to the west into
Wilbur's Pasture, and winds round Mount W,.'ams to
the east, will give us the best outlook. The view from
Prospect, the top of which is easily reached from Wilbur's Pasture, is one that we must not miss. Let us
hear President Hitchcock:
"On turning northerly, and proceeding to the extremity of the open ground, we come to the steep
m'argin of the mountain, and in a moment the beautiful valley and village of Williamstown burst like a
bright vision upon the eye..... I have rarely
if ever experienced such a pleasing change from
the emotion of beauty to that of sublimity as at
this spot. The moment one fixes his eye upon the
valley of Williamstown, he cannot but exclaim,'How
beautiful!' But ere he is aware of it, his eye is following up and onward the vast mountain slopes
above described, and on the far off horizon he witnesses intervening ridge after ridge peering above 
GOOD-BY TO GREYLOCK.
one another, until they are lost in the distance, and
unconsciously he finds his heart swelling with the
emotion of sublimity."
Whether the route we have chosen for the ascent
and descent of Greylock will be the one selected for
improvement cannot now be stated; but it certainly
affords more yaried and satisfactory views of the
scenery of the Greylock group than any other. If the
roads were tolerably good, the tour of the mountain
might easily be made in a day; and in the views from
the bottom of the Hopper, from the top of Bald Mountain, from the summit of Greylock and from Prospect
there would be glory enough for one day.
DOWN THE HOOSAC TO THE HUDSON.
Away from this pleasant valley some faces must turn
at last. The shadow of Greylock that has fallen like
a benediction upon the weary, must be forsaken for the
shorter and hotter shadows of brown-stone walls; and
the walks and drives that led to so many mountains of
beatitude must be exchanged for the level weariness
of city pavements. From the Troy and Boston railroad station you trundle slowly out through the little
tunnel, and soon the broad slopes of Mount Adams
and thembeautiful curves of Williamis and Prospect are
left behind as you follow the beautiful river down toward the sea. The river and the railroad pass through
a corner of Vermont; the two or three villages named
Pownal through which you pass, are in that sturdy little
State. The two or three Hoosacs which fellow are in
I47 
148   FROM THE HUB TO THE HUDSON.
the State of New York; the larger of these villages
being known as Hoosac Falls and distinguished chiefly
in these days as the place where the Walter A. Wood
Mowing Machine Company has its extensive machine
shops. The battle of Bennington was in this town of
Hoosac, and the heights upon which it was fought are
in view from the railroad just beyond Hoosac Junction.
Hoosac Falls is the only important town between North
Adams and Troy. The region through which the road
runs is a most delightful one, however; much of it
fertile and highly cultivated. The Taghkanic Mountains on the one side and the Green Mountains on the
other, draw close to the river as we pass through Vermont, but beyond Hoosac the Green Mountains retreat
to the north and you look away to the right across a
beautiful open country. Still the river windeth at its
own sweet will through the meadows, and still you follow it, glad of its pleasant company. Its volume is
swollen since you knew it first among the alders in
the Adams valley; but unlike some whose fortunes
grow, its added floods have robbed it of neither gentleness nor grace.
"Sing soft, sing low, our lowland river,
Under thy banks of laurel bloom;
Softly and sweet as the hour beseemeth,
Sing us the songs of peace and home.
"The cradle-song of thy hill-side fountains
Here in thy glory and strength repeat;
Give us a taste of thy upland music,
' Show us the dance of thy silver feet. 
CANTABILE-DIMINUENDO-FINALE.  I49
"Into thy dutiful life of uses
Pour the music and weave the flowers;
With the song of birds and bloom of meadows,
Lighten and gladden thy heart and hours.
"Sing on! bring down, 0 lowland river,
The joy of the hills to the waiting sea;
The wealth of the vales, the pomp of mountains,
The breath of the woodlands bear with thee."
But the railroad that was glad to woo the river when
the way was hard among the hills, has found that the
world is wider, and coolly withdraws to the southward.
From the heights along which it leads you, the valley
of the Hudson soon appears broad and bright with
verdure; from the rocky bluff beyond the valley, the
waters of the Mohawk tumble down the cataract that
turns the mill-wheels of Cohoes; the twin villages of
\Vaterford and Lansingburgh greet you from their
lowly seat by the Hudson; there are street lamps,
pavements, flagmen at the crossings; the speed slackens; a vast and smoky roof, with massive iron trusses,
hides the sky, and your journey ends where the journey of Eneas begun-within the walls of Troy.
0
I' 
I 
i,
ADVERTISEMNIENTS.
BRIGGS & BOLAND,
NVo. 4 Wilson Block,
NORTH ADAMS, MASS.,
Merchant Tailors,
MANUFACTURERS OF AND DEALIRS IN
LADIES' CLOAKS AND CLOAKINGS.
DEALERS IN
R  e a d y-M  ad e   C 1 o t h  in  g
AND
GENTS' FURNISHING GOODS.
Ageits  for Sizger's  Sewinzg laciiies.
H. P. BRIGGS.                             M. BOLAND.
L. M. BARNES & CO.,
DEALERS IN
Fine Gold and Silver Watches,
JEWELRY AND GOLD PENS.
i8 k. Plain Rings made to order. Silver Ware, &c.
ALSO AGENTS FOR
PIANOS, MELODEONS AND ORGANS
Of the standard makers.
HOPF VIOLIARS AND STRINGS.
New Sheet Music received weekly. Particular attention paid to
Repairing Fine Watches and Tewelry, at
2Vo. 5 T,ilson Block,
NORTH ADAMS, MASS. 
ADVERTISEMENT.
WILSON HOUSE.
NORTH ADAMS, MASS.,
Is one of the largest and best appointed Hotels in the State.
During the last two months it has been refitted, decorated, and
put
IN COMPLETE ORDER THROUGHOUT.
THE HOUSE IS FURNISHED WITH
Hot and Cold Waaer Baths.
The Post Office, the Telegraph Office and a Billiard Room are
in the IHotel Building.
WILSON HALL,
The largest in Western Massachusetts, is connected with the
Hotel.
The proprietors will spare no pains to make the HIouse
pleasant and attractive to all who may favor them with a visit
STREETER & ROGERS, PROPRIETORS.
16 
ADVERTISEMENTS.        -
WILLIAM MARTIN,
DEALER IN
LUMBER,
Ready-Made Clothing,
AND
GENTS' FURNISHING GOODS,
Main Street, opposite Wilson House,
NORTH ADAMS, MASS.
JEWETT & RAND,
DEALERS IN
Boots, Shoes and Rubbers,
No. 6 WILSON BLOCK, MAIN STREET,
NORTH ADAMS, MASS.
First-class Custom Work made to order, in latest city styles,
and every article warranted.
MI. C. JEWETT.                                        L. C. RAND.
ADVERTI SEM ENTS. 
SAMUEL BOWLES & COMPANY,
SPRINGFIELD, MA S S.,.
OWN AND CONDUCT AN EXTENSIVE
Book and Job - Printing Office,
BOOK BINDER Y,
AND
BLANK BOOK MANUFACTORY,
INCLUDING AN
ELECTROTYPING ESTABLISHMENT AND A MANU        FACTORY OF PHOTOGRAPH ALBUMS.
THEIR establishment occupies one of the largest buildings on Main street,
Springfield, and, in capacity and completeness, has no superior in all New
England.
They run twenty-five different Printing Presses, between fifty and sixty machines of all kinds, and employ nearly three hundred workmen and women.
Every description of Printing, from Cards and Handbills to Books; from the
simplest and plainest to the most intricate, elegant and costly.
BINDING of all sorts and in every style.
BLANK BOOKS of every fashion, made to order, or on sale, wholesale and
retail.
PHOTOGRAPH ALBUMS, from 25 cents to $25 each, singly or by the quantity,
by mail or express, at lowest manufacturers' prices.
BOOKS stereotyped, printed, bound and published.
LEGAL BLANKS printed to order, or on sale in any quantity.
In brief, all Job Work and Manufacturing ever done in Printing Office and
Bindery, is performed at this establishment, promptly, of the best materials, by
the best of workmen, and in the best manner known in either art.
Orders by mail as faithfully attended to as those left in person.
PA TENAT COUNTING-ROO,'I CALENDAR.
MESSRS. BOWLES & COMPANY manufacture this, the most convenient CotuntingHouse Calendar in use, which is also a desirable means of advertising, for Insurance Companies, Bankers, Merchants, and business men generally. Orders filled
at short notice, in lots of from 500 to 5o,00ooo, with the business cards of parties
ordering on each leaf, printed in such a manner that the advertisements cannot be
detached and destroyed as long as the Calendar is in use. 
ti
ADVERTISEMENTS.
T H:B3
Travelers' Insurance Company
OF HARTFORD, CONN.
CASH ASSETS,... $I,I5o,ooO.
Insures against ACCIDENTS causing death or total disability.
Accident Policies written by any authorized Agent for the
month or year, insuring $500 to $Io,ooo for fatal accident, or.$3
to $50 per week for loss of time caused by wholly disabling bodily
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the cost is but $5 to $Io, annually on each $I,OOO insured and $5
weekly indemnity. It is but five years since the Company was
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ONE MILLION DOLLARS
under claims for death or injury by accident.
THIS COMPANY ALSO GRANTS
LIFE AND ENDOWMENT POLICIES
ON THE LOW RATE CASH PLAN,
Combining ample security and cheapness of cost under a definite contract. The zife Department of the Travelers was organized in July, I866, and up to April, I869, it had issued over
Six Thousanzd Life Pglicies, a larger number than any other
Life Company of the same age, with one exception.
JAMES G. BATTERSON, President.
RODNEY DENNIS, Secretary.         GEORGE B. LESTER, Act,uay.
CHARLES E. WILSON,                EDWARD  V. PRESTON,
A ssistsnt Secretary.        Suleriaztnedent ofAgezncies.
New York Office, 207 Broadway; Boston, 89 Washington
street; Philadelphia, 41I7 South Fourth street; Western Branch
80 La Salle street, Chicago; Pacific Branch, 424 California
street, San Francisco.
i 
ADVERTISEMENT.
PLAIN THOUGHTS
ON THE ART OF LIVING.
Desigined for Young Mien and lHomnen.
BY WASHINGTON GLADDEN.
I vol., i6mo. $1.50.
CONTENTS-The Messenger without a Message-Work for
Women-Dress-Manners-Conversation- Habits-Health
and Physical Culture-Mind Culture-Success-Stealing as a
Fine Art-Companionship and Society-Amusement-Respectability  and  Self-respect —Marriage    The   Conclusion  of  tllhe
Whole Matter.
This book has been cordially welcomed by the press, as treating with much ability, freshness, and earnestness several of the
problems which young people are meeting daily.
"We do not know a more uiseful book for pastors, employers, parents, teachers and others to have at hand as a present for their young people."-The Inde,endent.
"This book charms us.  It is so frank. manly, generous, and tnie.  There is
not a'mean streak' in it, so to speak; and the man or woman who heeds its
teachings will be pure and noble. Its catholicity of spirit, its sensibleness on
the so-called'woman question,' its cordial sympathy with all innocent amusements, its evident purpose to bless homes and hearts, should secure it a welcome wherever there are men and women who think nobly, act bravely, and
love purely "-Ladies' Refository (Boston).
"It is a healthful volume, well written, and with pertinent force in style and
illustration. It might appropriately be called a'Guide to Health, Happiness,
and Success.'  It goes straight to the point, is honest, and at the same  time
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It is, in a word, a guide, counsellor, and friend."-St. Louis Democrat.
"If anything can supply the want of commnon sense in life, this book can do
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"It is utterly free from the'goodiness' which spoils most such works.
Freshness and thoughtfulness on every page lift it above the great mass of the
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an under-current of Christian thought runs through the whole, and wells up at
the close into an earnest plea that the young wilL take Chlrist as their Master
and their King. The book deserves to be ranked beside Beecher's'Lectures
to Young Men' "'-American Presbyterian.
"This is a little volume of morality that is not dull.....       We  commend
these plain thoughts for the unusual character of putting good things modestly."
New York Herald
"There is more solid, practical advice to young men and women in this little
volume than most bovs and girls ever receive from parents, teachers, and
preachers.-Catholic Telegrakh.
For sale by all Booksellers.  Sent, ost-fiaid, on receipt of rice, by the Pa
lahers,            FIELDS, OSGOOD & CO., BOSTON.