USA > Massachusetts > Hampden County > Picturesque Hampden : 1500 illustrations > Part 9
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" Hain't what ?" would be the natural reply. " Hain't seen a little red keow with a dingle-dangle bell ; hain't, hev ye ?"
His drawling, sing-song manner of speech made this sound very funny, and he always began the inquiry with "Hain't, hev ye?" and there stopped as though his hearers were gifted with mind-reading powers and could tell for themselves what he meant. At one farmhouse he mixed matters up by asking, "Hain't, hev ye, seen a little red bell with a dingle-dangle keow to it; hain't, hev ye ?"
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PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
THE ELDER RAND PLACE.
married. Mrs. Kittery had a houseful of company that day, and was sitting with them at dinner when Uncle Simmy suddenly drew rein in front of the open door, and, without leaving his buggy, cried out in high-pitched, nasal tones :
"Hey, you Abby Kittery! Come along out hyar; 1 got something to say to you in pri-vate."
Mrs. Kittery had had some inkling of Uncle Simmy's inten- tions from other parties, and was very indignant. Guessing what his pri-vate business was, she stepped to the door and sharply cried out : "Well, I ain't got a thing to say to you, Simeon Brash, that I can't say 'fore the hull world !"
Accepting this as a final refusal of his suit, Uncle Simmy sat down and coolly said, "Hain't? Mighty injupendent! Some body else'Il git me, then," and drove on, singing merrily .- Youth's Companion.
MISFITS.
It was a New England deacon who said, " We are thankful for one spark of grace, and are confident that it will be watered." But it was a minister who one day announced to his congregation, "You will be sorry to hear that the little church of Jonesville is once more tossed upon the waves, a sheep without a shepherd."
A QUIET DAY UP THE RIVER.
CANOEING IN THE HOLYOKE NEIGHBORHOOD.
When one approaches Holyoke from the north and looks from the car window across the river as the train keeps its swift, curving way along the water's edge, he sees several lonely little cottages among the trees on the
A BACK STREET ROADWAY.
AN AFTERNOON GROUP AF PROSPECT PARK.
opposite bank. And if curiosity impels to inquiry, he learns that these are canoe lodges. Close be- low the tracks, a little above the dam, as the train swings into Hol- yoke, is another building, with mammoth letters on its side pro- claiming it to be the Holyoke Canoe House. If one gains admittance there, he would find inside stored along its walls, the half-hundred canoes belonging to the club mem- bers. On the opposite bank is the canoe house of the South Hadley Falls club, " Red Cliffe " by name, and on the bluff a half-mile above is the Sytoneha Lodge. This has its perch just at the foot of the rapids where the backwater from the dam ends. It belongs to the older mem- bers of the Holyoke club, who on pleasant summer afternoons resort thither, and after the voyage across the quiet waters in their little cockle- shell canoes, find relaxation and en-
THE HOLYOKE CANOE HOUSE.
joyment in the easy chairs and hammocks on its broad piazza. Within is a room given up to the kitchen, whence comes, as the sun declines toward the western horizon and sends its searching rays farther and farther under the spreading piazza roof, a rattling of dishes and clink of pots which makes most delightful music to the ears of the waiting canoeists outside. For where
64
PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
THE NEW SOUTH HADLEY FALLS CANOE LODGE.
RED CLIFFE CANOE LODGE.
does food taste better than off on the edges of civiliza- tion, with a little gentle exercise for sauce thrown in beforehand? There are those who praise the charms of the wild woods, and mountain climbing, and rough adventure, and say that you do not half appreciate the beauty of a sound sleep till you are just worn out with all day's tramping or twelve or fifteen hours in a saddle; that you know nothing of the pleasures of eat- ing till you've had a slight experience of starvation. Well, if there are those who choose to pursue pleasure in that barbarian fashion, let them, but the modern and civilized way is after the manner adopted by the Hol- yoke canoeists. The Sytoneha Lodge is the resort of ladies as well as men, and all the mariners are justly proud of their broad piazza and the lounging-room just behind it, which, when the wide, folding doors are thrown back, becomes at once a part of the already ample piazza.
On the same side of the river as the Sytoneha, and about two and one-half miles from the city, is the Sans Souci Lodge. It stands just at the head of the rapids and commands, from its situation on the bluff, a long, smooth sweep of the Connecticut, stretching away to the north. This belongs to the younger, and, I suppose, more frisky members of the canoe club, to whom a few miles' fight with the rapids, with perchance a spell of towing along the rocky shore where the water runs swiftest, is a matter of no moment. The canoeing season opens early in April, and thence
SANS SOUCI LODGE
forward, when the weather favors, almost any afternoon will see some of the little craft skimming about on the water. After working hours, to leave the dust and turmoil of the city behind, and betake oneself to the cool currents of the river, over which you move in a little boat so frail and light that it seems almost a part of yourself, so quickly does it respond to every touch of the paddle-this is no slight pleasure. Then there is to be had lazy comfort on the lodge piazza, and a supper by and by, and some gamboling on the waters with the canoes in the evening, which, if it be moonlight, takes on a touch of the romantic, or, if only starlight, brightens the glooms, becomes rather mysterious and ad-
SYTONEHA LODGE, FROM THE WEST BANK.
THE CITY FROM UP THE RIVER.
venturous. If there are logs drifting down the stream at the same time, this heightens the interest. Tip-overs are frequent, but the canoeists are all swimmers, and these duckings simply furnish laughing stock. As the night deepens, and the stars take on a growing luster, the canoeists drop down the current, slip through the narrow passage left open for them in the boom, and shortly are storing their boats in the Holyoke Club- house and are ready to wend their ways to their various homes. On Saturdays there is usually a little com- pany which spends the night at the lodge, where ten or a dozen cots are kept stored, returning sometimes on
A RAILROAD WRECK AT JONES' GAP.
Sunday. Titan's Pier is a favorite resort, and many an evening lunch the canoeists eat there on that rugged wall of rock, with its commanding outlook up and down the river, before the summer is through. In the little cove here the canoes gather, and they make a picture truly charming if the sails are set, for then they resemble nothing so much as a company of great butterflies, grouping with lifted wings on the sand. Another famous resort is Mrs. Waters', at Smith's Ferry. In her interest in them, and care for them, Mrs. Waters is mother to all these canoe boys. She knows just how to set forth a supper to their taste, and it is certain that the summer
65
PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
A DOUBLE CANOE.
races could never be quite complete without Mrs. Waters present to witness them. On the day of the races the river about Smith's Ferry is a lively place. It is a gala day at the lodge and the canoeist's hospitality is taxed to its utmost to care for their numer- ous friends who resort to the spot. It is to be supposed, too, that the ferryman, up above, reaps a golden harvest in carrying the crowds across from the railroad station to the South Hadley side, where a coach is ready to convey them down to the lodge. The races have their interest, but they are not so picturesque as some of the adventures on the river which have fewer witnesses. We pick out for record an instance or two of this sort. The canoeists have a liking for going by railroad to Greenfield, and there making a transfer of their canoes from the baggage car to the little Deerfield river, thence to paddle out on the broad Connecticut and spend a day going down the stream to Holyoke. On one such occasion four young men left Greenfield behind them, and with sails set went scudding along with the current before a brisk north wind. It was a cold spring morning, and before they had gone many miles the wind had become a perfect gale and the water was broken with whitecaps. The two canoes kept out of the heaviest of the storm by keeping in the
BYTONEHA LODGE.
A SUNNY COVE.
SMITH'S FERRY.
canoe in the rear, when it came from behind the island, out of comparative calm, was struck sharply by the full force of the gale and went over like a flash, and its occupants were plunged into the icy water. Their cries were heard by the first boat, which as hastily as could be took in sail and paddled to the rescue. A canoe is rather a ticklish craft for this sort of work, and a mud scow would be much preferable. You can't take on extra passengers, and a little excitement easily topples the boat over. One of the fellows in the water clambered on to the overturned canoe and his companion still in the water clung to its slippery bottom. The other boat circled around, with a care not to get capsized itself, till it got hold of the painter, when it started shoreward. It was no small task to tow that overturned canoe, with its clinging freight, and its sail set under water. After a little the man in the water said he was about worn out, and could
DOWN STREAM.
lee of the shores, and as they ap- proached Sun- derland bridge, they slipped in behind a little island. One ca- noe was leading the other by sev- eral rods. The
BY THE RIVERSIDE -FROM A PAINTING BY LOUISE CABLE.
hold on but little longer. Thereupon one of those in the first boat dropped his paddle, leaped into the river and went to his help. Things looked de- cidedly serious, but inch by inch the boats neared the bank, and at last they touched shore. All were pretty well exhausted, and it was a sorry looking company which waded from the choppy waves of the cold water and crawled up the bank. A friendly farmhouse was close by, and thither the canoeists wended their line of march. There they found an ancient farmer who wel- comed them to a hospitable fire and regaled them on milk and doughnuts. He
66
PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
THE VIEW UP THE RIVER NEAR SMITH'S FERRY.
brought forth a variety of garments belonging to him- self and his hired man, and the shipwrecked mariners got off their wet clothing. Now, being well housed, fed, and clothed they felt like changed men, and they looked it, too ; for the farmer was portly and his hired man was slim and small; so, while one man could take several reefs in his clothing and still be kind of lost, the next would be well pinched, and there was quite a vacant space below, where his shoes and trousers' bot- toms had parted company. However, happiness does not walk abroad habitually in fine clothing, and in spite of the picturesqueness of their appearance in these odd costumes and the big rubber boots and ample shoes fur-
SUNSET -THE RETURN FROM THE RACES.
THE DAY OF THE RACES.
nished by their host, this company was exceedingly cheerful, and perhaps there is no more pleasing place to end this tale than right here.
Another odd happening had to do with a blockade of logs at Old Hadley. There were two men and two ladies in the party, drifting down the river in a pair of double canoes. Coming upon a half-mile waste of logs in the stream, there was nothing to do but travel around them on dry land. It was one of those quiet, red-hot days, right in the middle of summer, and the prospect of dragging those canoes over a half-mile of level meadow, shimmering in the baking heat, was not pleasant. But the canoes were hoisted up the bank, a paddle run through the
ALONG THE RIVER BANK.
painter of one, and the two men grasped it and started off. But the stubble shortly made their shoe soles so slippery that it brought them to a standstill. Then, afar off, they espied a haymaker on an iron-toothed arrange- ment which went combing along the earth scratching up the hay into windrows. At stated intervals this thing kicked up its heels, so to speak, and dropped the load it had gathered. Our party gave chase to this vehicle, machine, or whatever it was, and, when they overhauled it, held converse with its captain as to his willingness to desist his operations long enough to tow their boats around the boom. He expressed a willingness to do this- for a consideration-and he detached his horse from the scratcher and soon had hitched on to a canoe. The two ladies proceeded to man the craft, or woman it, if that is more correct, and one of the men, being fatigued with his labors, manned the horse, which the haymaker, however, led. So the caravan got under way, and, a little later, the canoes were again floating on the cool waters of the Connecticut.
BOATING DAYS AT SOUTH HADLEY FALLS.
South Hadley Falls, or South Hadley Canal, as it was then known, was, before the railroad entered the region, a larger and brisker village
ONE OF THE CANOEISTS.
67
PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
than Holyoke. A wing dam had been built out into the river, extending per- haps one third of the way across the stream, and here were two wooden paper mills and a low, black, stone gristmill. The stages running up and down the river changed horses at the old brick hotel which still stands at the head of the main street of the village. This is at present painted white and is used as a tenement. Then it was unpainted and was known as " The Falls House."
Supplies for several of the back coun- try towns were landed at the village by the river boats, and there was an immense amount of business going through the canal from the time navigation opened in the spring to late in the year when the ice closed it again. Boats loaded with mer-
LOW WATER ABOVE THE DAM.
MT. NONOTUCK.
chandise were going through the locks most of the time, and large quantities of logs and lumber were floated through on their way down stream. These rafts were made up in " boxes " or divisions, each " box " being as long and wide as would go through the locks. Once again on the open stream these boxes were tackled to- gether and the raft floated on to its destination. Most rafts were top loaded with shingles, staves, or hoop poles. The men who worked the raft usually lived on board and many of the rafts had little shanties on them with bunks inside where the men slept. A box of sand served as a fireplace for such cooking as they chose to do. As many as 5,000 tons have passed through the canal in a single year, paying tolls amounting to $13,000.
When a boat coming up the river came opposite the Willimansett landing, in case the wind was unfavorable, it was drawn upstream by a long rope attached to a windlass some distance above on the Holyoke shore. From there it was towed, as the need was, by from one to four yoke of oxen hitched to a heavy pair of wheels,
along shore up to the ferry landing. If a propitious gale was blowing, sail was then hoisted and the boat crossed the stream and drew up along side the Public Land- ing at South Hadley Falls. But if there was no wind to speak of, or such a wind as the mariners would speak ill of in their rough boatman fashion, nothing remained but a hard push with pole athwart the swift current, which brought them to land some rods, more or less, below the eastern ferry landing. There a pair or more of stout oxen would be attached to the craft and it would make its sluggish way up to the landing, which was built about where the bridge now is. Here the cargoes for the village and the several back country towns surrounding were landed.
If the boat was bound still farther up the river it was poled in at the mouth of the canal, which entered the river close above, then into the first lock and still poling into the second and so to the third, where, having risen higher and higher, the upper level was reached. This last lock was at about the spot now spanned by the extension of the Hampshire paper mill. Having poled on beyond the hill which lifted a steep rocky wall east of the canal here, Harvey Rice took the boat in tow with his horse, for the remaining mile to the upper end, where Day's tavern afforded the rivermen solace for dangers past, and strength for trials to come.
When unlocked from the placid canal, the boats again entered the headstrong current of the river. But up stream a hundred rods, where the smooth Con- necticut first breaks over the long descent of rapids, stands Pulpit rock, and to this rock was fastened a rope whose down-stream end was wound around a huge
TITAN'S PIER.
THE CONNECTICUT AT HOCKANUM FERRY.
drum on a large flatboat. At each end of the axle of this drum, projecting over the sides of the boat, was a paddle wheel which could be raised or lowered at will. When lowered the current caused the paddle wheels to revolve- the drum wound up the rope, and the craft with a boat or two in tow moved up stream.
A raft coming down, when it reached this point and struck the swift current, was often an unwieldly thing to manage and get properly started in the canal. Once in a while a raft would get the better of the boatmen and go down over the falls. On one such occasion several men were drowned. They were afterwards buried on the Whit- ing Street farm opposite. A few years later a little steam- boat, which was used for towing boats between the canal and Greenfield, blew up just as it was starting from the canal with two boats in tow. Four men were killed in this accident and three of them were buried across the river beside those who lost their lives in the previous accident.
At the upper end of the canal, a rough log dam had been built across the stream, but with a gap a hundred feet in width in the center, to allow the passing of shad, and the shooting of timber. The dam served to turn the water into the canal and kept it navigable. Through the gap in the dam logs were sent down, sometimes singly, sometimes in "coons." A coon was made up of a half-dozen logs fastened together with withes side by side.
Forty years ago a company known as " The Old Sluggard " dragged the waters of the Connecticut at South Hadley Falls for shad. Other parties fished from some little islands or
68
PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
SUNSET, FROM TITAN'S PIER.
CANOEING ON DRY LAND.
wharves in the stream built for the purpose; but the "Old Sluggard" had by far the best place. Here was a broad, gently sloping beach with a long, clean curve along the water's edge, forming an almost perfect ground to work upon. There were about forty men in the com- pany, who lived not only at the Falls, but at South Hadley and Granby. It required twelve men to man the boat, and the mem- bers of the company took turns in work- ing it. About one day in three was re- quired of each man who owned shares during the fishing season, which began
A QUIET AFTERNOON.
shore to the upper end of the fishery. There one end of the broad net heaped in the stern of the boat is handed out to two men on shore, the bow is turned out into the current, and the boat shoots forward. The net slides into the water, fold by fold, the boat turns down stream, then shoreward, completes its long circle and touches land. The men instantly leap out and begin hauling in the net. When the inclosure of water narrows, the interest gets to white heat. There is a tumult of frightened fish breaking the surface into sudden waves, now and then there is a silvery flash as one leaps into the air. Then the net with its burden is landed, and there on the pebbly shore among the meshes are scores of shining victims. They are soon thrown into the broad, shallow box, where they toss and gasp and find their way to some peddler's cart or farmer's wagon.
about the first of May and lasted nearly two months.
Shad were numerous in those days, and when the hauls were made the beach was a lively place. The shouting, the rattle of oars and splash of water, the group of on-lookers and the peddlers and others making pur- chases at the big bin into which the shad were thrown, made it a busy and interesting scene. The big, flat scow, with eight or ten men pulling at the oars, goes up along the
AT THE WATER'S EDGE -TITAN'S PIER.
A CANOEIST'S SUPPER.
WRECKED CANOEISTS.
At the beginning of the century, salmon were taken here in considerable numbers, and shad were considered rather plebeian fish. The story goes that folks were thought to be pretty badly off if they had to eat shad, and to illus- trate this point the following anecdote is told: A certain family, having prepared a shad breakfast, were just gathering about the table to partake of the humble dish, when a knock came at the door. The man of the house was ashamed to be seen eating shad, and he therefore slipped his fish into the
69
PICTURESQUE HAMPDEN.
THE DAM, FROM THE SOUTH HADLEY FALLS SHORE.
table drawer before admiting the visitor. But salmon became scarce and shad grew in respectability. Back in the fifties the family in this neighborhood which did not have a barrel or two of shad laid away for summer use was not considered well provided for.
The land on which the " Old Sluggard" company fished was owned by a Mr. Lamb. This land was after a time bought up by certain parties and a new company formed, with Captain Corey Smith as leader, and styling itself " The Young Sluggard." After going through a lawsuit the old company was turned out and the twelve who formed the new company took possession. Fish rights were then very valuable, but now few shad get up as far as the Falls, and it hardly pays to get out the nets.
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS IN 1892.
South Hadley Falls has such close connections with Holyoke and Hampden county that it seemed meet to include it in this work, although, geographically, Hampshire has the larger claim on it. The village is in part included within the boundaries of Chicopee, and it is thus brought partly into Hampden, and the place is so connected by the big bridge and frequently-running electric cars and its business interests in general with Holyoke as to be in reality a suburb of that city. The two paper mills and the Glasgow gingham mill, by the riverside at the dam, are its chief source of life, but it as well shelters in its homes a great number who gain a livelihood in Holyoke's mills and shops. A variety of small stores cluster at the bridge entrance and dot the main street up to the
-
SOUTH HADLEY FALLS- A VIEW OF THE MILLS.
mills. At the end of the street is the famous old brick tavern of boating and stagecoach days, and close by are the Congregational and Methodist churches, and the engine house with its bell tower. A steep hill rises here northerly, and the streets mounting it, with the dwellings and outbuildings perched along them, have a peculiar quaintness and interest. Some of the structures are quite ancient, and one or two groups of old willows send up their straggling trunks to add to the old-world attraction of the place. The new is silent and noncommittal. Age gathers about itself mystery, and we know that every old building has the lives of many people interwoven with the gathering grayness of its years, and that it has many stories to tell. From the hilltop, which shows signs of an intermittent quarrying be- ing carried on, one can look straight down on the village roof-tops, and only the church spires lift themselves above the horizon line. Close by here is a big, grim building of brick, known as the Glasgow block. Its tall, massive form, with its heavy chimneys and stepped gables, give it a strong individuality. From here it is easy to descend a long flight of stairs, from the Carew office on the hill, to the bridge crossing the canal below, and then following up the level a little, visit the dam. It is an interesting place on the heavy stone bulkhead. Above is a broad sweep of quiet river, with low hill ranges beyond, and, in the north, a glimpse of the mountains; close at hand is the east bank lined with bushes and trees; across the stream Holyoke's multi- tude of buildings with their chimneys and spires, and prominent among them the square-towered city hall; but the dam is chief feature of the surroundings. The water falls over its crest in a smooth curve
THE RIVER BED, BELOW THE DAM.
that, gaining in swiftness as it slips down the long incline, rough- ens, and whitens, and at the end plunges into the mass of boiling foam below and is lost in fierce commotion. If the wind blows, the air is filled with driving spray, and you may catch tints of rain- bows in the mists if the sun is right. The falling water fills the air with a solemn, low-toned roar, that is yet so loud one wonders what it was like in its thunder in the fabled days before the apron was added. Along the bank here, on a gradual slant from the level of the water above the dam to that below, is a curious network of timbers, through which a little stream keeps up a dodging, tortuous course, with much the same difficulty in finding its way that one has in working to the goal in one of the labyrinth puzzles you find in children's magazines. This is a fish-way, intended for such shad as have enterprising intentions of going up stream. One would naturally suppose the passage better fitted for eels than any other of the finny tribe, as these sudden turns and so many of them would be calculated to break the back of an ordinary fish before it had gone far. Retracing our steps along the swift, smooth-running canal, and climbing the stairs up the rocky face of the cliff, we follow High street, and at the end we come to the Catholic church on its terrace overlooking the neighborhood about, and then, con- tinuing a little westerly, we find Lamb's grove. There was a time when this was a favorite picnic resort, and, in its way, there is still no prettier spot in the region. The wood is well grown, and the oaks and chestnuts, with their smooth-shafted trunks, are quite hand- some. Here and there a hemlock, with its evergreen foliage, adds variety. The earth beneath is a grassy carpet, free from brush,
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