USA > Massachusetts > Hampden County > Picturesque Hampden : 1500 illustrations > Part 4
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I have been requested by one of the mill workers to refer to sanitary conditions ; in particular, to overheating and insufficient ventilation. These matters require no argu- ment. Vitiated air poisons the blood, pro- vokes pain and disease, shortens life. To work half a day in a very hot room, and then go out into our northern winter or spring -
who can think of it without being reminded of pneumonia and consumption ? Cotton may run better, and paper be more readily calendered in a hot room ; but flesh and blood are more valu- able, or ought to be, than cotton and paper.
Another needed reform, is that the night-workers should be released on Saturday and Sunday nights. None will deny that night work should be reduced to a minimum ; and men who work
RESIDENCE OF CHARLES H. RICHARDS.
"Am I my brother's keeper?" This applies equally to employers and to employed. Employers sometimes take an unfair advantage of their workmen, and workmen sometimes ask unjust things of their employ- ers. In both cases the moral law is violated. What all men should remember, is that might does not make right.
I cannot claim to speak as an expert, and yet it would do little good to treat this subject in an abstract way, and make no specific sugges-
HAMPDEN
tions. Accordingly, I shall venture to call public attention to a few matters that seem to demand consideration. The first of these is the employment of so many children- by which term let us indicate boys and girls under eighteen and over thirteen, the age under which, in Massachusetts, the employment of children is forbidden. The laws of our state upon this subject are perhaps the most advanced in the country, and yet it is to be questioned whether a greater degree of restriction is not necessary. The young have
RESIDENCE OF MRS. S. S. CHASE.
LOOKING DOWN BEECH STREET, FROM CABOT.
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
nights deserve a Sabbath in which they can do something besides make up lost sleep. An appeal for the Saturday half-holiday, which is the rule in England, may well be inserted here, addressed especially to those who desire to have Sunday respected as a sacred day.
There is another appeal which should be made to employers, superin- tendents and overseers, and that is for the display of personal courtesy and kindness toward those who are under them. This also has been suggested to me by an employe. Of course there are great individual differences in this respect, and those who do well have no cause to be ashamed if perchance they read these lines, But it is well to remember that people in subordinate positions, and even children, have a rightful sense of personal dignity, and rightfully object to being managed just as machines or horses are managed.
TEPISCOPAL CHURCH.
1
THE SECOND CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH.
All these suggestions, imperfect as they may be, are offered in the interest of the people who "work for a living ;" and they are offered with the hope that they will appeal to employers, who also work for a living, but as a rule under easier conditions and with greater returns. To work for a living is not an Adamic curse, but a wise provision of Providence. Nevertheless, it would not be logical to conclude that because work is a good thing, the more men have of it the better. To go back to the boy's essay, with which we started, we may say that while man must continue to be a creature that works for a living, if he is also to be one that stands erect, in the physical and in the spiritual sense, he must not only have opportunity to secure a living-he must have time and opportunity to live. JAMES W. CARNEY.
Kindness and gentleness are not very expensive lubricants, but there is noth- ing to be compared with them for re- ducing friction. They who neglect to use them make a serious mistake.
My last suggestion is for the benefit of those who are engaged in retail business; but it is also addressed to the general public, who are apt to have things in this world about as they choose and determine. Every one knows that the greatest objection to retail trade is its long hours. But are the present hours necessary for the accommodation of purchasers? Not at all. For instance, it would be suffi- cient if the stores were open two even- ings in the week, instead of three or four. The Board of Trade might take some action in this matter, and public senti- ment be enlisted, to refrain from pur- chasing upon other than the designated evenings, and'after a designated hour.
MAPLE STREET, NEAR DWIGHT.
SECOND CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH.
"THE PAPER CITY"-1892.
One of the most distinguished of American artists, who had won great fame by his paint- ings of Indians, was asked not long ago where he intended to go the following season. His reply was, " I'm going to stay right here in New York. I'm tired of the woods and the mountains and plains and streams, where fellow beings are so scattered. I want to be where there is life." Mr. Howells, the famous novelist, in speaking of his afternoon walks after the day's work is over, says, " I like to go where life is most crowded. I go down into the tenement districts, and I find pleas- ure in the company of the little street urchins who have such things as dead rats and old cabbage stalks for playthings." Holyoke is a place of concentrated thronging life, and this simple fact gives it charm, independent of what it has or what it lacks of happiness, culture and comfort. It is not in the least a
RESIDENCE OF JOSEPH SKINNER.
question of fine streets or fine houses, or of its people being attractive in dress or manner. These things, when we find them, pleasantly touch our sense of harmony ; but life itself touches a deeper sense - that of sympathy. It may be high or it may be low, prosperous or in adversity, housed in a mansion or dwelling in a crowded tenement; there is a fellow feeling
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
awakened, whatever the sur- rounding conditions. In one of Robert Burns' most fa- mous poems there is a fre- quent recurrence of the line, " A man's a man for a' that." His point is that a bronzed face and rough hands and dirty work and humble hous- ing are no measure of a man's worth. To the honest worker, whatever his calling or outward appearance, is due a cordial respect. A spirited continuation of the poem referred to has been written in recent years by Charles Mackay. Through it runs the same refrain, but with a new application. Its purpose is to counteract a tendency there is in some" quarters to condemn the rich simply because they are rich. But a man is not his fine clothes or his fine house. Character lies deeper than that. Wealth need not make one effeminate or overbearing. Poverty need not carry with it coarseness or ignorance. If he shows the right metal, high or low, " A man's a man for a' that."
Holyoke, like any other city, is made up of rich and poor. The home regions of neither class lack interest, and we should feel it a dis- tinct loss to the truth and attractiveness of the book to neglect either. As we walk about the city, then, we shall take a varied course and follow both highways and byways.
The center of the place seems plainly to be the City Hall. It is a massive structure of granite, with a tall, handsomely proportioned tower in front, from whose base a broad terrace of steps leads down to the street. The land itself here rises into a hill, and helps to give the building prominence, no matter whence it is viewed.
To the sight-seer it is supposed to be both a duty and a privilege to climb the steps to the top of the tower to get a bird's-eye view of the surrounding landscape. He is not at liberty to wander at will up this winding stair, but must first get a key from one of the clerks on the lower floor to undo a door which blocks the way two flights up. Once past that door you have left the confines of civilization, and the way becomes at once mysterious and strange. You go up a narrow stair in almost complete darkness, and then cross a landing and go up other flights, and across rough floorings, where above is a rude criss-crossing of unfinished beams in the glooms, and in one place jump down from one floor raised above that beyond and stoop to pass beneath an iron girder stretching from wall to wall. It is a curious place, and contrasts oddly with the impres- sion one gets from without. The rough stones and plaster show in the walls ;
A DAY OF SNOW-SQUALLS-LINDEN STREET.
THE CITY FROM THE HILL.
flooring and timbers and stairways seem placed at hap- hazard, and nowhere is there sign of paint or finish. You can fancy there are bats and such creatures lurking away in the shadows somewhere. One pauses with interest to see the works of the great clock, suspended against the wall behind a glass casing, and to watch the slow sway- ing of the ponderous pendu- lum. Then you come out into the more open space, where the big bell is, and if you happen to be there at the striking of the hour, are caught with startled fright, its sound is so loud and near. Here are high, narrow open- ings through the granite, and you may look deep down into the streets, with their pigmy travel and traffic, or far off over the roof tops. Easterly, the wide plain is filled with blocks of brick and great mills, inter- woven with the waterways of the canals. To the west are gradually rising hills, where the homes of the people rise, street after street, to the pasture ridges at the horizon, and all en- veloped and half concealed by the foliage of the thick starting trees. But the most striking view is northerly, where the river lies in a basin like a blue lake, and beyond rise Mt. Tom's bold cliff and more gently in the distance the long range of Mt. Holyoke.
Within the tower, the timbers and exposed boards were covered with the penciled or knife- carved names of visitors. I deciphered a num- ber of these, but so far as I read came upon no one of special distinction in the world. But if some of these put the same effort and ingenuity into their every-day work that they did here to get their names into the most difficult and out- of-the-way places, they are bound to win dis- tinguished success sometime. Going down is a much easier task than climbing up, and once out of the close, hot glooms above and in the cool corridors of the lower building, you feel the ex- perience has been a very interesting sort of adventure.
CHUMS.
LOOKING DOWN APPLETON STREET.
Holyoke, as compared with other cities, is remarkably fortunate in its towers and spires and their placing. Rarely can be found a place where from so many points of view these features of architecture loom up so handsomely. First in importance is the tower of the City Hall, which from near or far is never lost to sight. Whether viewed from the streets below or glimpsed up a narrow alley, or seen from the hills westerly, or from the east across the river, it never loses its attraction and is always a central point of interest.
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
The well-proportioned spire of St. Jerome's, too, makes an attractive landmark, seen across the park it fronts, or from above or below, or any of the near streets, and the whole mass of the church is quite interesting, seen from the rear across an open lot. It is as well an attractive feature of the city, when you look south from up the river, or west from the South Hadley shores.
OAK STREET, FROM CORNER OF ESSEX.
The new French church, fronting Prospect Park, is also interesting. It is prominently placed, and its square tower, though not lofty, is quite attrac- tive from wherever it is viewed. On Depot hill, another example of value in landscape of church architecture is the Catholic church on Mosher street. The whole building stands well up, and its two spires make graceful outlines against the sky from all the streets and fields for half a mile about.
One block up Dwight street from the City Hall is Hampden Park, a square of lawns and winding paths and well-grown trees, with a granite monu- ment in the center, dedicated to Hol- yoke's soldiers. On warm summer days the settees, here where the foliage casts cool shadows, make an agreeable lounging place. This is a resort for the slow trundling baby carriage, and a place for the smaller children to tumble on the grass. Under a shelter
THE MCELWAIN HOUSE - LINDEN STREET.
in the middle of the park is a big fountain with tin cups attached, which on days of heat and dust is a famous resort of the small people, who, so far as I observed, seemed to be afflicted with a perpetual dryness and to spend most of their time there.
From here a short walk takes one to a second park, which occupies a high terrace, rising steeply from the river it overlooks. Prospect Park is its appro- priate name. When age gives growth to the trees which have been started, it will be much improved as an outing place ; for, on hot days, people natu- rally seek the shade, even if they miss a beautiful view. At present a warm afternoon finds the park almost de- serted, while the shadowed sidewalks and doorways of the near streets are quite crowded. Close below the park is the dam, to which is due almost altogether the city's existence and con- tinued prosperity. Above, the river spreads away broad and placid ; but once over the crest of the dam, it breaks into foam and becomes a white turmoil of rapids and swift, rough waters, that do not regain their former composure for a mile or more. Across the river are gradually rising fields, where are several fine groves of trees, and more to the east glimpses of the spires and village houses of South Hadley Falls. But the most striking feature of the wide landscape about is Mt. Tom, whose huge bulk blots out the northern horizon. It rises blue and strong from the water's edge in charm- ing outline against the sky, and on quiet days mirrors itself in the glassy stream.
A HILLTOP VIEW NEAR FORESTDALE.
THE REGION NEAR FORESTDALE CEMETERY.
Just above the park are the steam sawmills and all about them on the hillside great piles of boards and slabs. The river thereabouts is crowded with the logs floated down from the head waters of the stream, and booms and spiles are everywhere. It is a busy place, and the work and workmen are
SCREENING GRAVEL.
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
quite interesting. There is a fascination about the water always, and the ability these men show in jumping about on the floating logs seems an accomplishment worth aspir- ing to. Between the mill- yard and the humbler homes of the vicinity, you can see at almost any hour an odd set of pilgrims going to and fro, some of them old men or old women who come away bent beneath the great bundles of refuse wood on their backs, and some of them small boys with little carts with which they bring away loads of like character. Among these boys are certain fortunate ones, who own goats which they harness into the carts and make do the drawing.
The neighborhood below the mill- yard is commonly known as "The Patch." It is a mixed-up region of narrow streets and alleys and wooden tenements, not over clean and not over agreeable in its odors. In fact, it seems to the observer that not a few of the buildings could be spared with advantage to the city, and health and comfort of the residents. Noticeable in this region is the number of child cripples who are about the sidewalks.
But follow any of the streets to the south and the surroundings at once become more cheerful. There are trees shadowing the walks, lawns before the houses, and everything trim and neat. The homes, both cottages and the more commodious dwellings, look comfort- able and attractive. This region of pleasant, separate homes, extends in a wide sweep far back up the hill to Northampton street. The cottage house is the most common, but there are many handsome mansions that in size and beauty of architecture are worthy special admiration. The lay of the land is peculiarly well adapted to the attractive placing of fine buildings. It rises gently, with here and there a slightly bolder ridge, and everywhere is chance for a wide outlook over the whole valley. The district is fast filling up, but there are still in places open fields where a few pines and chestnuts and clumps of birches grow-relics of the old-time pastures. From among them can be had very pretty glimpses of the fine houses of the vicinity, in odd yet attractive contrast with their surroundings.
Near by is Forestdale cemetery. It is pleasantly avenued with tree-lined roadways, and is agreeably broken with little valleys and low hills. A tiny lake sleeps in one hollow, and there are fountains on the higher ground, and ornamental shrubs and flowering plants
OAK STREET, FROM ESSEX.
SUNSET -ST. JEROME'S CEMETERY.
LOOKING TOWARD THE CITY FROM ST. JEROME'S CEMETERY.
are everywhere. Higher on the hill, only separated from Forestdale by a narrow street, is the cemetery of the Roman Catholics. It has a fine situ- ation, with wide views about, and a particularly good out- look toward Mount Tom. If the grounds are well cared for, time will enhance the size and beauty of the tree- growths and make the place especially attractive.
To the north of the ceme- teries are the "Highlands," a level plateau of consider- able extent, which is one of the most attractive residence portions of the city. North- ampton street may be con- sidered the western boundary of the city at present. It makes a long line north and south, at the base of a high ridge rising beyond, where are pastures and patches of woodland. This ridge is most attractive tramping ground. The views north and east are delight- ful. Where it dips toward the northern valley, you look across a long stretch of farming country to the blue ranges of the mountains at the far horizon, and nestling among them catch a single glimpse of a gleaming bit of the Con- necticut-a pearl soft-shining in the surrounding green. The view east overlooks the whole city and the plains beyond the river, mellowing away into the distance. I explored this ridge one autumn day. It was very pleasant with its corn stacks and pumpkins in the ploughed fields, and its rough pastures and stone fences and far views. There were groups of cows feeding about or lying in the shadow
IN FORESTDALE CEMETERY.
of the trees, in interesting contrast with the wide spreading city so close below. Several groups of fine chestnut trees grow here. They are labeled with signs, " No Trespassing," and though I saw a chestnut or two lying on the ground, I thought it best to withstand the temptation to pick them up.
Some distance to the northward is the proposed " Mountain Park." In going to it you leave Northampton street just where it dips down into the northern valley, which opens away with a beautiful view of river and meadows and bordering mountain ranges, and take a narrow road leading into the woods. It is a well-kept, winding way, with a little stream at the right, and is nearly closed in with young woods, broken now and then with a larger tree shooting up above the rest. Soon the gentle rise brings one in sight of the little brick gatehouse at the Whiting Street reservoir. Above is a small pond, and about and beyond, boggy meadows dotted with stumps. Across this level is built a long, strange-looking wall of stone, whitened by limy
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
oozings. Above it is imprisoned quite an expanse of water, whose waves, whenever the wind is stirring, ripple with monotonous fretting against the stony barrier. Mt. Tom's massive range shuts out the west, and low hills slant down from the wooded mountain and almost encircle the little lake. Below, the land falls away in a gradual slope, and over the fringe of trees bor- dering the meadow is caught a glimpse of Holyoke's roofs and spires and curling ribbons of smoke.
Near this reservoir is an old cellar hole and a few bushy old apple trees that show here once stood a farmhouse, and if inquiry is pursued it is ascer- tained that Moses Pomeroy, a hundred years since, owned this property and lived here with a numerous family. Among other traditions of the place which still linger, is one having to do with a certain jug Moses carried to the village store with considerable regu- larity to be filled with rum. One dark
FRENCH CATHOLIC CHURCH OF PERPETUAL HELP.
night he returned laden with this jug and came opposite the marsh, when he was startled by guttural voices from the pond, crying out, "Pomeroy ! Pomeroy ! Jug o' rum ! jug o' rum! Got drunk ! got drunk! Go home! go home!" These remarks so worked on his mind that he said to himself, " If the very frogs have got so as to mock me and say that I am drunk, I will stop drinking." And he swung his jug in air and threw it far out into the pond.
A rough road leads about the northern end of the lake, and in whichever way you choose to turn is interesting tramping ground. The near land is broken and varied; an immense sweep of eastern valley opens before the eyes from all the higher points, and north and south are long views of no less interest. If one cares to climb among the trees and boulders of the mountain range, he can see Nature in some of her wildest aspects, and will find many delightful little cascades making sil- very plunges down the rocky hollows.
Instead of going directly back to the city, we will turn off from lower Northampton street and go over the high hills to the region known as " Back street." It is a farm- ing district, and was once a chief center of population in the town. There are only a few scattered houses here, but one of them is notable as having been the residence of Elder Rand, Holyoke's first
MOONLIGHT-FORESTDALE CEMETERY.
IN THE YARD OF THE SAWMILLS.
minister, a man of strong character and individuality, who still lives in the memory of the older people of the city. The house is a low, gray old building, shadowed by great trees that spring up close by its walls. Mr. Rand as a young man learned the tailor's trade, and at the time he turned preacher he said, " I could then make ten dollars a week as a tailor, but as a preacher I traveled on foot each year hundreds of miles, and did not receive money enough to keep me in shoes." During the first years of his ministry in Holyoke, Mr. Rand received a salary of $200, which later was increased to $400. It was customary then, as it is now in our country towns, for the farmers when they butchered to send in a piece of meat to their minister, or, as things ripened in the garden or fields, to send in some of these pro- ducts. But the privilege was reserved in case a "donation " exceeded in value fifty cents, of charging it as part of the
THE RIVER ENGINE AT THE STEAM SAWMILLS.
minister's salary. In order to make both ends meet, Mr. Rand, besides his preach- ing, carried on a farm, taught the village academy and took certain of the pupils as boarders. The school building stood close below the Rand home, and pupils came from three miles about. The academy was a classical school that fitted those who chose for college.
Connected with this district is a famous ghost story, which runs as fol- lows: In the old days there lived on Back street a Mr. Felt. One fall he sowed a field to rye, which in the spring was looking green and thrifty, and he was much disturbed at the frequent visits of neighbor Hummer- ston's geese to the said field. Mr. Felt had a quick temper, and this sort of thing was too much for him. He caught the whole flock one day, killed them, and then wended his way to Deacon Hummerston to inform him what he had done and where his geese were to be found. This and other acts, showing his hasty temper and savage disposition, brought Mr. Felt into disrepute among his neighbors. He often cruelly beat his horses and cattle, and there were times when he served the members of his family in
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN
MILLYARD TEAMS.
ALONG SHORE.
the same way. He had a son, Timothy by name, a dull-witted fellow, who was slow of comprehension and in his work made many mistakes. This was a frequent cause of anger to the father, who on such occasions would strike Tim to the earth with whatever imple- ment he happened to have in hand - a hoe, a rake, or a pitchfork, perchance. These attacks sometimes drove Tim from home, but after a few days' ab- sence necessity would bring him back again. At last, however, he disap- peared and was seen no more, and a little later the Felts moved west. In building the New Haven and North- ampton canal, a great deal of limestone was used. On Mr. Felt's farm was a ledge of this rock, and the company soon had a quarry there. The over- seer was a rough, ill-tempered fellow, and it was not long before he had trouble with his workmen and they all left him. That brought work to a standstill, and the overseer was at his wits' end to find some way out of the difficulty. One night, shortly after the men left, the overseer, on his way home from the corner store, quite late, saw a dark figure standing on the ledge outlined against the sky. The overseer stood still, his frightened gaze riv- ited on the stranger. Pres- ently he broke the silence by asking, "Who are you and what is your business ?" The specter replied, "My name is Timothy Felt, and my bones are under where I now stand. 1 was killed by my father four years ago, and if you will blast this rock you will find by bones." This story ran through all the country round and created great excitement. Every day for some time thereafter, loads of people, not only from Ireland Parish but from towns quite distant, wended their way thither, inquiring the way to the "ghost place," and when night came on people would make a long detour rather than pass the place. Money was raised to continue the quarrying until Tim's skeleton should be brought to light, but no bones
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