USA > Connecticut > Windham County > A modern history of Windham county, Connecticut : a Windham county treasure book, Volume I > Part 102
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The Still River and the Bonggee, meaning a shallow ford, join at Phoenix.
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ville with the Bigelow from Ashford and at North Windham receive the Mount Hope and Fenton rivers. The Natchaug joins with the Willimantic at the Thread City to form the Shetucket, meaning "land between the rivers at their confluence," a name transferred to the river. The name Willimantic did not originally belong to the river but to some locality on or near its course, mean- ing "a good look out," "good cedar swamp" or "where it winds about a Bold Hill."
It is interesting to note some of the altitudes of our county. The highest land is in the northwestern part of Ashford, its "Snow Hill" being 1,213 feet above sea level; the Hatchet Range in Woodstock being 1,030, Courtney Hill in Woodstock 930, Ragged Hill in Pomfret 868, Chestnut Hill in Killingly 740, Hampton Station 700 feet, said to be the highest land on New York, New Haven and Hartford between New York and Boston; Mullin Hill, Canterbury, 585, at the Scotland station the Shetucket is only 150 feet above sea level, having fallen 550 feet since leaving Woodstock. The cutting of the forests in our county has had its effect on our streams, in many of them not one-half of the water now running in them, especially in the summer months, that there did years ago. The natural source of retention being exposed to the sun causing large freshets in the spring of the year and little or no water returned for later needs.
BEAUTY SPOTS OF WOODSTOCK By Elizabeth F. Bingham
No one can visit Woodstock without paying tribute to the rare beauty of its picturesque scenery.
The appealing charm of the region had, undoubtedly, an alluring influ- ence upon the Wabbaquassett Indians when they selected the location as a favorite camping-ground.
The beautiful lake which was left behind when the valley was scoured by glacial action made possible the combination of fishing and hunting so dear to the heart of every red man. And when John Eliot, the Apostle to the Indians, drank in the landscape pictures as he taught the Wabbaquassetts on one of his long pilgrimages, like an afterglow their impress lingered with him, until his admiration was transmitted to members of his flock, who were so moved by his description that they decided to seek out for themselves the goodly land which had found such favor in the heart of their spiritual leader. With their worldly goods deposited in ox-carts, the little company from Eliot's church pushed their way, in 1686, through the wilderness until the tiresome trip was accomplished and they, too, feasted their eyes upon the beautiful lake and peaceful valley which had so strongly appealed to Pastor Eliot.
As the little hamlet, at first called New Roxbury, sprang into being, with unusual taste and forethought the Pilgrim Fathers set apart a generous por- tion of ground in the middle of the village which might be used for public purposes and particularly as a training ground for the militia. In this capacity it played a useful part in the wars that followed. In the days of the Revolu- tion it was a convenient gathering place for the practice of the minute men, the dents of whose bayonets may to this day be seen in the ceiling of an upper room in the interesting old Bowen homestead near by. This ancient hostelry was at that time an inn of considerable importance because located on the
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direct route of the stage coaches which made a mid-day stop there on their trips from Boston to New York.
In the War of 1812 the common also proved a rendezvous for a local in- cident which has a rather picturesque historic touch. As a British fleet was, at that time, threatening New London Harbor my grandfather, Maj. Wm. Flynn, then adjutant of his company, was asked like Paul Revere at an earlier date to "ride and spread the alarm." Mounting his horse in the early eve- ning he devoted the entire night to the imperative quest, his "voice in the darkness and knock at the door" rousing the minute men over so large a sec- tion that when at daybreak he turned his horse's head homeward, he found a lively scene upon the common. So immediate had been the response of the call to the colors that 500 men had already assembled and were hastily mak- ing ready to proceed to the relief of New London.
It seems particularly fitting that the shapely stone boulder which bears the names of the Woodstock boys who participated in the World war should stand aloft, like a silent sentinel of the past, and occupy a place of honor at the entrance of the largest of the commons.
Aside from their historic interest the wealth of commons in the heart of Woodstock adds materially to the charm of the place today. Enriched as they are with fine trees and fair shrubbery, which attract the birds, they seem with their wide expanse of green to intensify the summer-time coolness of the breezy hilltop and emphasize its inviting air of restfulness to weary tourists.
In charming contrast with the abundance of green in evidence is the fine garden at Roseland Cottage nearby, where attractive garden beds edged with boxwood, are brilliant with blossoms, throughout the season.
The wide green campus in front of the Academy Building serves as an admirable athletic area for the students and at the same time greatly enhances the setting of the large academy with its lofty cupola. Around the Commons nestle the village houses with generous lawns and often well-kept gardens.
The little Village of South Woodstock about a mile from Woodstock Hill is beautified by quaint and interesting Arnold Inn of Colonial days, now the residence of Mrs. L. R. Southworth, and the triangular common in front. The common is graced by several magnificent elms, set out to commemorate the battle of Lexington by the wife of one of its officers, Gen. Samuel MeClellan, who led a troop of minute men at the time of the Lexington alarm. The fact that the patriotic lady is said to have carried out all the trees, now so enormous, in her apron, only serves to deepen the impress of the lapse of years since that eventful day when the shot was fired "heard 'round the world."
As one enters the Village of Woodstock over the ascending highway from South Woodstock, he becomes conscious of the heights he must have climbed since leaving Putnam, as glimpses of far-distant blue and purple hills and the varying features of the landscape stand revealed beyond the attractive country homes and the double rows of trees which fringe the street on either side.
Upon reaching that portion of the village where the spire of the old meet- ing house points heavenward, the traveler is wont to utter an exclamation of pleasure as the road diverges in three directions and, because of the wealth of commons, a triple opportunity is thus afforded to explore the heart of this village beautiful.
At the side of the campus sloping to the east is the village churchyard,
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commanding a superb view of the lake and the peaceful valley. The early settlers made apportionment of their best to those who rested from their labors and today to many sad hearts the fair vision which meets the eye from the old "burying ground" on the hill conveys, I believe, a message of comfort in the association of the departed with so choice a resting place.
At the rear of the academy building upon the estate of the attractive old Bowen homestead to which allusion has been made, another of Woodstock's beauty spots may be found in a typical old-fashioned garden-walk aglow with brilliant masses of favorites among the old-time "posies"-one profusion of blossoms following another throughout the changing season as well as through the chromatic scale of tints and hues. This beauty spot, however, is but the opening door, as it were, of a rare vision of loveliness just beyond, where the landscape picture continues to widen until nearly two-thirds of the horizon line to the eastward is visible. The rather surprising name of "Sunset Hill" has been given this magnificent viewpoint, for the reason that it has long been a favorite place for a stroll at the sunset hour when the lake reflects its most charming hues. Like a rich mosaic, the hilltop picture is diversified by meadow and woodland, orchards, and fields of waving grain. The Sampson mill-pond stands out at times like a bright blue sapphire in the distance, rugged stone walls lend a picturesque touch, while the distant church spire in Thomp- son reffects the gleam of the western sun, and as the crowning feature, the lake gives back bright reflections of "heaven's own blue!"
In one of his famous "Star Papers" the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher paid tribute to this wonderful vision as unique in its beauty and best described by likening it to the view from Mount Holyoke in miniature.
Another gifted clergyman, Doctor Hillis, when he gazed upon the same broad outlook voiced his admiration in the words, "The way to Heaven from Woodstock must be short !"
Upon the brow of the Spalding Hill, at the end of the village near the postoffice, one is again impressed with the wealth of natural beauty where the hill commands not only an extensive horizon view to the east but also opens up to the westward an intervening picture of well-kept farms, rolling hills. and drumlins, and the far vision of sky and cloud effects often so brilliant at the twilight hour of a serene summer day. A pretty hemlock grove in a de- pression at the rear of the Spalding Hill is enlivened by the music of a bub- bling brook and graced by the presence of Jack-in-the-pulpit, maiden hair ferns and other woodsy treasures.
Visitors to the Spalding Hill, which is within easy access of the street, are wont to give expression to its wondrous possibilities as the site of an attractive inn from which all lovers of the beautiful might gain rich enjoyment and sat- isfaction in the perpetual feast to the eye which Nature has so lavishly spread there, and from which appreciative souls can always derive new inspiration.
The author of a familiar poem chanced one year to pass the early summer season at "The Elms"-an inviting farmhouse in close proximity to the Spald- ing property-and she declared that nowhere in her world-wide travels had she ever found a place of more absorbing charm than Woodstock in apple blossom time!
The reason of the unusual range of vision from the two hills described is not because of the great elevation of Woodstock at its center, as its height at the Academy Building is but 616 feet, but rather because of the contour
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of the surrounding country sloping to the eastward; while to the westward, a rising approach reveals fine vistas of scenery as one drives to West Wood- stock and Woodstock Valley. The drives about Woodstock in every direction are in fact exceedingly rich in colorful views.
Traces of Indian life are still in evidence in that portion of Woodstock which lies between Hatchet Hill and Hatchet Pond. Indian mounds today show that the location was used as a burying ground. An interesting Indian relic may also be found near the boundary line of the town where it borders upon Southbridge, Mass. There an ancient mortar still exists. The large stone carefully hollowed out is worn smooth from use when Indian corn was con- verted into meal through the pounding process.
Bungee Hill which rises to a height of more than nine hundred feet above sea level is situated very near the Village of West Woodstock. The Indian trail, leading from Woodstock Pond, in the heart of Woodstock, to Black Pond and then onward to Hatchet Pond, passed over the southern end of Bungee Hill, and with the settlement of Woodstock became the highway of today. The name "Bunggee" or "Bonggee" is of Indian derivation and means a "shallow ford." This was doubtless applied to the fordway at the foot of the western slope where the highway crosses Bungee River. Bungee cemetery, located here, was used as a burial place as early as 1750 but is now sadly neglected.
From the summit of the hill the view to the south and west is well worth seeing. Glimpses of the forests of Union, Eastford and Ashford may be here obtained, enlivened with an occasional farmhouse and here and there a church steeple adding a picturesque touch amid a wealth of foliage. It has often been said that life amid the peaceful and beautiful surroundings of the country tends to longevity. One of the quaint epitaphs of Bungee Hill cemetery would seem to offer tangible evidence that a superlative quality of sterling character may also be stimulated and achieved amid such inspiring surroundings if the unique phraseology employed correctly sums up the rare degree of virtue attained in this instance within the comparatively brief span of thirty-one years! Be- neath the name of this very exemplary individual with customary dates is this accompanying tribute :
"If boundless benevolence be the basis of beatitude and harmless humility the harbinger of a hallowed heart, these Christian concomitants composed her characteristics and conciliated the esteem of her contemporary acquaintances, who mean to model their manners by the mould of their meritorious monitor."
The present "Town Farm" is situated on a most commanding site whence a former owner of the place used to say that he could count twenty-three church spires from his porch, which in the thinly settled country means a vision of wide sweep.
Coatney Hill, about a mile from Woodstock Street in a westerly direction, may perhaps be said to rival in its extent of vision almost any other viewpoint in the town and is rich in varied outlooks. On a clear day from Coatney Hill not only is Wachusett Mountain visible but Mount Monadnock in New Hamp- shire has also been sighted there.
Bald Hill, on which stands the summer residence of Clarence W. Bowen, is a sightly spot and reveals a particularly fine view to the southeast. The crags at the summit of the hill add variety to the rich luxurianee about them in this fine estate of a hundred acres. A white birch grove, choice evergreens, winding drives and an Italian garden help to beautify the ample grounds.
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Chandler Hill overlooking the eastern portion of the town, affords pleas- ing glimpses of East Woodstock Village in the lowlands as contrasted with the towering academy and the homes clustered about it on the crest of Wood- stock Hill.
Quassett Hill to the southwest of the town's center, crowned as it is with a simple schoolhouse structure, should send forth into the world men and women of broad vision if the far-reaching and inspiring outlook which the boys and girls may daily absorb is to bear fitting fruit.
At the foot of this hill, a large reservoir known as "the old South meadow" has helped to turn the mill wheels in the days when manufacturing flourished in Sprucedale and South Woodstock, but which no longer has opportunity to spend its force in that way. A little stream winds from it to meet eventually the Quinebaug River and on its way, in a little glen near the Wells sawmill, widens into a fascinating nook. Glossy hemlocks and picturesque rocks re- flected in the pool combine to make this forge a charming scene, while a steep roadway at its right reveals in June, like huge bouquets, masses of exquisite pink and white laurel.
A drive from Woodstock Hill to the little Village of North Woodstock is enriched by pleasing glimpses of East Woodstock, formerly called "Muddy Brook," and the surrounding hills. The former name for the east village was undoubtedly applied because the vigorous action of the stream upon its banks makes the waters sometimes of dusky hue; but on its winding way to the lake, particularly as it broadens near the Lindeman Bridge, this brook has its at- tractions and has been a favorite haunt in the fishing season of boys on torch- light expeditions.
Black Pond, a nearly circular lake in the western portion of the town, has also been a lure of the fishermen and a favorite picnic ground for those who search out the beauties of sequestered nooks.
As the road from the crest of Woodstock Hill takes its winding course to East Woodstock, it passes through the fine farming section familiarly called "the lower neighborhood." Here substantial homes have been maintained by the Child families for generations In this valley, not far from Muddy Brook and the lake's inlet, mineral springs still exist which at one period because of their medicinal properties attracted tourists of this section. The inn near the springs which once accommodated these guests has long since given place to a modern farmhouse.
Upon the eastern shore of Woodstock Lake is a dense growth of lofty pines-sometimes called Cathedral pines-so closely intermingled that many of the side branches are undeveloped while a soft carpet of moss and pine- needles here and there reveals in summer glimpses of pink moccasin flower and ghostly Indian pipes-fitting relics for the land of the Wabbaquassetts ! The roadway which winds close to the lake, in and out among the fragrant pines, is particularly inviting on a hot summer day. As it merges into Senexet Road leading toward Putnam, glimpses of pleasing scenery are enjoyed.
Roseland Park, which borders upon the western shore of the lake, is a region of beauty familiar not only to those in the vicinity for whom it has long been a favorite resort, but it has also had a national reputation serving as the charming setting from which in many Fourth of July celebrations, distin-
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guished visitors-the most eminent speakers of the country-have voiced mes- sages of tremendous importance whose echoes have been heard around the world. With indefatigable patience and perseverance and from the swampy ground which originally bordered upon the lake, the late Hon. Henry C. Bowen caused to be built up by means of many thousands of loads of sand the foun- dation of the attractive park which he afterward continued to improve and beautify. Today as a monument to his memory the inviting park is open to the public and in summer season is enjoyed by many visitors from far and near. Here opportunity is afforded for boating and bathing. The broad boat- house piazza makes an ideal spot to spend a summer morning, and the well shaded park itself is admirably adapted for picnic purposes.
A description of the "beauty spots" of Woodstock would be sadly im- complete were no allusion made to the beautiful spirit of sympathy and kindli- ness which exists among its choice residents. Dwellers "on the heights" they are indeed in more than one sense. When a dark cloud of sorrow or suffer- ing casts its shadow over some home, a wonderful "silver lining" is revealed in the countless ways in which, like members of one large family, volunteer burden-bearers study how they may help to lighten at least a portion of the load, so closely are the warp and woof of community ties and interests inter- mingled in this township beautiful.
I have been requested to insert in this sketch a description of the old home- stead which stands on Woodstock Hill at one end of the triangular common near the postoffice, and which was erected there by my great-great-grandfather before Washington was made President. A simple, quaint structure is this old-time dwelling over whose enormous door-stone six generations of the same name have passed. Its simplicity of design is appropriate setting for its wealth of associations, many a tree and shrub serving as memorials of members of the family or friends whose enriching influence has, in many cases, passed into the larger life; and yet, like a lingering benediction, each returning spring- time, fresh leaves and blossoms breathe anew the fragrance of some earlier affection.
Within, the living-room at the left,-once the "keeping room" with its sanded floor, the quaint corner cupboard built in when the house was made- reveals Lowestoft, Washington vase and other antique dishes used by former generation. Great-grandmother's arm chair is still there where she sat to tell stories of the days when Indians were sometimes grouchy neighbors, and of one day in particular when an Indian invader coolly walked off with her kettle of meat which he had removed from the crane in the great stone fireplace. The old-time foot-stove, warming pan and crude implements of earlier days, throw light upon past history, while an ancient letter case embroidered in 1770 with her name and date by great-grandmother herself contains interest- ing letters sent before the days of envelopes or postage stamps.
In the ancient case letters written a century ago echo the Puritanical spirit and teaching in that they dwell largely upon matters of religion while again even the quaint teaspoons which have been in use in the old homestead for more than a hundred years are singularly suggestive of the serious viewpoint of life in vogue at the time of their construction. The ends of these spoon handles are shaped like antique caskets, with the purpose that even as the partaker sipped his tea he might be reminded of his latter end! The same
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absorbing thought is brought out in the old sampler which hangs near the ancient front door. This sampler painstakingly wrought by a child of eight years bears the following gruesome inscription: "Yet a little while and every heart that is warm with hope and busy with design shall drop into the cold and silent grave. The eye that reads this shall be closed in darkness. The hand that writes this shall crumble into dust."
Artistic needlework of antique design bears silent witness of the feminine patience in existence a century ago, while hand-wrought nails and strap hinges show that the old homestead, said to have been "built upon honor," was pains- takingly finished in detail. "Country Life in America," in its issue of April, 1919, devoted a full page to the illustration of this ancient dwelling, accom- panying it with the following sweet tribute:
"You may travel afar and come back convinced that England knows best how to build country houses or that the French have reached the height of achievement in their chateaux, or that in Italy or Spain will be found the source of all charm; but architectural style is not a matter of lintel or arch, of half timber or stucco, of column or buttress. It has to do with the very soul of a building. Can you look upon this homestead, built in 1776 and deny that America too has an architecture of its. own ?"
The old-fashioned garden after a century of cultivation is now productive of a profusion of stately hollyhocks, some of which are eight feet or more in height by actual measurement. As they nod in the breeze like old-time ladies in the minuet, they make a particularly fit setting for the antique dwelling. Huge quantities of old-fashioned orange lilies in the garden's foreground, as viewed against a mass of pale blue larkspur, have a decorative effect, while enormous maples with their grateful shade help to make inviting the wide lawn about the old homestead whose foundations the forefathers wisely placed "Somewhat back from the village street."
The residence of Gardner H. Sumner about a mile north of Woodstock Village is a fine old house which has remained in the same family for nearly two hundred years. Mr. Sumner's fruit orchards about it make in May a rare picture which is only surpassed by a vision of the same setting in autumn with the trees bending under their weight of luscious fruit.
Whittier says :
"The hills are dearest which our childish feet have climbed the earliest,
And the streams most sweet are ever those from which our young lips drank."
Many of Woodstock's adopted children, however, are willing to pay tribute without stint to the hold which this beautiful town has upon their hearts.
Though my work calls me for a portion of each year to an attractive city, its allurements pale when compared with the charms of the hilltop town which I have been able but faintly to describe, but for which my affection is deep and abiding.
Because of the rare beauty of its setting, because of our family roots which strike deeply into its soil, and particularly because of the warm atmosphere of friendliness which envelops it, Woodstock is to me, without exception, "the dearest spot on earth."
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BEAUTY SPOTS OF ASHFORD
By Emily J. Chism
Westford Hill is in the chain of hills running south from Mount Ochepatuck in Union and is 957 feet above sea level. From the summit a broad view ex- tends from the northeast south and around to the northwest. The longest view is at the south and southeast. The Franklin Hills beyond Willimantic can be seen plainly and other rows of hills beyond. Indeed tradition says that Long Island Sound can be seen on a clear day, but as no one living seems to remember a day clear enough, the accuracy of this statement cannot be guaranteed; and it may be merely an assumption based on the fact that no higher hills intervene. Whether or not the Sound can be seen, the view is not lacking in beauty. Hampton Hill with two church spires appears in the gap north of Sunset Hill at the southeast. West. Woodstock, Ashford Town, Wil- lington Hill and the Connecticut Agricultural College at Storrs are seen against .the background of hills and woods. Willimantic and Stafford can be located by the smoke above them and rivers, lakes, and marshes can often be traced by the white fog above them. At the northeast are the Boston Hollow hills with the "Old Storm Mountain" at the north which rivals Pilatus as a weather prophet, for when its head is in the clouds, the storm is not over yet.
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