USA > Massachusetts > Hampden County > Picturesque Hampshire : a supplement to the quarter-centennial-journal > Part 13
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AN OLD DOORWAY.
and crowds gathered to hear them every Sunday. Cummington was the home of several noted men, among the most prominent being William Cullen Bryant and Senator Henry Laurens Dawes. A drive up the valley will bring us to the vil-
THE WELL SWEEP.
lage of West Cummington, but there are beautiful views on the route. Dr. Peter Bryant's office (now occupied as a tenement by a colored family,) may be seen about a mile out, and next comes the little hamlet of "Lightning- Bug." The brook, bridge and old peustock scene pictured by our artist, may be readily iden- tified on this road. At West
A CORNER BY THE HEN-HOUSE,
60
PICTURESQUE HAMPSHIRE.
VIEW OF SWIFT RIVER.
home the greater part of his life, but after he became editor of the New York Evening Post, he spent more of his time at his beautiful place in Roslyn, R. I. But the scenes of nearly all his poems were laid near the Cummington home, and the views illustrated on pages 50-52 inclusive are all there. Our portrait of the poet is considered by good judges an excellent one. "A Corner of the Bry- ant Library " pictures a room much like that used by Whittier at " Oak Knoll" in Danvers. "Nebuchadnezzar" is a cat over fifteen years old, was a favorite with the poet, and still living in the family of Mr. Dawes. He is a sedate, solemn old animal, of a color which can best be described as ecru. "Neb," ashe
Cummington there are two churches, a hotel and paper mill, and Remington and Deer hill tower above the village on either side. The latter eminence is a magnificent sight when the leaves begin to turn on the trees, and people come from a considerable distance every year to see Deer hill put on its fall dress. Rem- ington hill is the highest point in the county and was named after a man who once lived there. It can only be reached by foot-paths, but the view is a superb one to the north and west and well worth toiling for.
While riding abont the out- skirts of Cummington village, or almost any of the smaller towns, we should likely see just such views as those pictured on page 49 and sketched by our artist. The Tower place is described elsewhere, but as every one who goes to Cummington inquires for the Bry- ant place, this also requires more than usual notice. It is about two miles from the village, and is npon quite a hill reached by an easy ascent. The house and grounds pre- sent a very inviting appearance, and there are many visi- tors to them every year, some coming with picnic parties, and gathering in the grove near the house. Until last April the place was in the care of the family of Francis H. Dawes, Esq., but they desired to close their respon- sibility for such a charge and did so, then removing to the village. It is now cared for by the family of George Streeter and visitors are still courteously received, although some, in former days, are said to have committed acts of vandalism and to have come as mere enriosity seekers and vulgar meddlers. This was Mr. Bryant's
GOSHEN HILL, VIEWED FROM THE EAST.
is called, was quite a hunter on the Bryant place, and lived largely on game, wild rabbits, etc., which he caught him- self. The "Bryant Wall," is a stone structure abont forty rods long, and wide enough for four persons to walk abreast upon. It divides the upper and lower Bryant places, and is composed of stones, of which the land was cleared. The monument, a mile south of the house, marks the site of the poet's birthplace.
A favorite ramble of Bryant's was by the Johonott brook, which flows through a deep ravine, overhung by a thick growth of forest trees.
Another interesting spot is the old homestead orchard pictured on this page- not the newer and younger orchard, which is a large one, but the place where Bryant reveled as a boy. This was then a beautiful spot. Some of the trees were just beginning to bear; others were in their prime, and every spring covered with blossoms, murmur- ous with thousands of bees and every autumn loaded with frnit. Underneath them the soil, still unexhausted, was carpeted with the freshest grass, spotted with white clover. The poet was wont to relate that, in his boyhood, when the spotted fever prevailed with a frightful mortality in the Atlantie states, he often heard in his orchard the bells
AT THE BACK BARN-DOOR.
A BIT OF SWIFT RIVER COUNTRY.
BUTTER-MAKING IN THE BACK KITCHEN.
tolling for the frequent funerals, and the whole atmosphere. as the sounds floated through it and died away, seemed filled with a note of wailing for the shortness of man's existence on earth.
We give in our illustrations a group of hemlocks on the Bryant place- hemlock firs some call them, others hemlock spruce. These hemlocks were very lofty and grand, but the artist seldom selects for subject of illustration the largest trees. The largest or most perfect trees do not always make the most perfect pictures. The grouping of smaller ones with regard to light and shade often produces the finest effect. Observe the withered hemlocks and think of Red Jacket's famous simile, "I stand a hemlock dead at the top: death is slowly creeping toward the roots: anon the tree of the forest will be a withered, sapless stem."
The curious scene of oxen moving a honse represents the removal of the office of Dr. Peter Bryant, the poet's father, over the hills, down to its present situation about a mile beyond the Bryant library, on the road to West Cummington, where it is now
IN THE WOODS.
61
PICTURESQUE HAMPSHIRE.
sloping bank, its surface green with the re- flection of the vegetation by which it is over- hung ; no living thing near save perhaps the forest bird that descends to drink in silence, and its fresh wild herbage never cropped by the herd-a place the sight of which suggests ideas of stillness and solitude.
The poet was evidently much in love with this little rivulet near the house, for he rote several stanzas of different measure ibont it, and here is one :
" The pretty stream, the placid stream, The softly gliding, bashful stream The pretty stream, the flattered stream,
DEVIL'S DEN, IN GOSHEN.
occupied, as already noted, by a colored family. The spot where it once stood is about a mile from the pres- ent location.
The Bryant schoolhouse is a pretty little building about half a mile from the homestead, and on the road which crosses the main highway just below the Bryant place.
The large illustration, with the leafy maples and the graceful elm shows the site of the schoolhouse which Bryant attended when a boy, and also one of the first churches in town. A famous maple sugar camp was also located close by-"Sugary," as it is sometimes called-"Sugary " used as a noun, Webster says, is a new word. But this homestead " Maple Sugary " is an old feature. The trees were found there by Bryant's maternal grand- father. Many of these trees were set out by Bryant when a mere youth ; both father and son replanted young trees for the "maple sugary," and in recent years as much as 1800 pounds of sugar were obtained in a sea- son from this estate.
The "Rivulet " is one of those quiet little bits of landscape which are overlooked by the ordinary observer, and only arrest the eye of the artist or the minute observer of nature. A clear little pool under a
CASCADE IN DEVIL'S DEN.
DECORATION-DAY IN THE COUNTRY .
of the brook and a secure foot- ing on the stones in its bed, may easily be reached by a few steps descent from the highway. This place is only about a mile from the east village. The turnstile in the hedge, on the Bryant place was probably more ornamental than useful, for one who knew the habits of the poet, informs us that he gener- ally neglected it and cleared the hedge itself, at a bound.
The scenes on page 53 were sketched by our artist in this region, none of the three far from the Bryant place, and to add to their impres- sive beauty we have quoted appropriately in con- nection therewith from Bryant's poems.
Now here we make a momentary diversion from our rule laid down, not to allow ourselves in these pages to go outside the county of Hampshire; but West Cummington people claim "Windsor Jams" as one of their own natural curiosities, and so it was, it having been at one time within the legal bounds of the town of Cum- mington. It is now hardly more than two miles from Landlord Shaw's comfortable hostel- ry at the west vil- lage, and if you are there, looking for the beautiful in na- ture, you will sure- ly be asked if you have seen the "Jams." So we will imagine ourselves jogging along with our horse, over a very comfortable and nearly level road. Our route is along the bank of the stream which comes from the " Jams," most of the way, and the cascades, of the brook by the wayside so attrac- tively sketched by our artist, are sure to attract attention, as we go by them. They are not the
WILLIAMSBURG.
The shy, yet unreluctant stream. The flattered stream, the simpering stream,
The fond, delighted, silly stream, The sad, forsaken, lonely stream. The cheated stream, the hopeless stream, The ever murmuring, mourning stream."
" Roaring brook," in the woods, one of Bryant'e favorite resorts, has made a pretty study for many artists, and the bridge_which spans the brook, over the highway, has been_also much admired. The bed
IN THE FIELDS ON A RAINY DAY.
SOME HAYDENVILLE RESIDENCES.
62
PICTURESQUE HAMPSHIRE.
"Jams," however, as some visitors may imagine who don't know what they are coming to. These are near the house and on the farm of Heman Allen of East Windsor, and when you see the saw-mill, which is near his house, you may know that this is as far as you should take your horse. Tying the animal somewhere hereabouts, Mr. Allen, or some of his mill men will point out to you your way to the "Jams," across the fields. When you come to the brook. you will soon find a good place to step across; then continue on, up the rising ground, after you have inspected the bear's cave and the trout pool. When you have ascended the hill, over fallen tree trunks and the decaying vegetable growth of ages, with a most beautiful, dense and luxuriance of ferns and mosses, you should move a little to the east, as you hear the roaring of waters, and then look down upon the scene below you.
ยท "The Jams" are a deep gorge between solid walls of rock, rising seventy feet high, through which flows a brook, coming from the hills of Berkshire. The stream is overshadowed by lofty trees of the red birch, the canoe birch with its snow-white co- Inmnar stems, the hemlock, spruce and the sugar maple, over a bed of rocks and stones from which every partiele 'of mould was swept by
MOUNTAIN STREET, HAYDENVILLE.
fashioned country dance on the only spring floor in this region, and at any rate yon will be cheered and warmed by a great blazing open wood fire on the hearth, in the front room, and be welcomed by an accommodating landlord.
After a night's rest yourself and equine friend will proba- bly be ready to accept our guidance to quaint old Plainfield, which was set off in 1785 from the town of Cnmmington.
To Plainfield then, the daugh- ter of Cummington, we will consider ourselves bound. Up- hi l again we go, from the West- field river valley. There are several objects of interest here, among them the old home of Charles Dudley Warner and the mill of the "mountain miller.", There is also the "Campbell rock," which is located near the road, about ten rods west of the late residence of L. N. Campbell. The rock has been an object of interest to scientists for the last century. It is a large boulder, estimated to be of twenty- five to thirty-five tons weight, one edge of which rests on the ground and the opposite side lies tilted on a ledge of rock, ris- ing some three feet above the ground, leaving ample space for several persons under the boulder. Special interest centers in the different varieties of vegetation found growing upon the rock. A Plainfield citizen informs us that he re- members a talk between his fa- ther and Dr. Jacob Porter, some seventy years ago; the doctor being a noted botanist and naturalist, and also author of a history of Plainfield.
Speaking of the rock Mr. C- stated that thirteen differ- ent kinds of vegetation were found growing on the rock. The doc- tor replied that the different varieties of mosses were more than that OUT FOR A HOLIDAY. number. Besides the mosses, grasses and weeds, are found the rock birch, wild cherry, mountain ash, etc., but tow- ering up above all is a hemlock shrub, or tree, five or six inches in diameter, six or seven feet higher, getting only
[CONTINUED ON SECOND COLUMN OF NEXT PAGE. !
VIEW OF HAYDENVILLE, FROM HILL IN REAR OF BRASS SHOP.
the spring floods, thousands of years ago, while the rocky walls of the gorge itself are covered with an aged, hoary growth of moss and lichen. By careful stepping when the water is low in the bed of the stream, one may descend and walk the whole length of the gorge, to the south-western end, where it comes out in a very common-place pasture brook. But the gorge itself is a magnificent sight to those who are not familiar with nature's wonders on a larger scale, as in the Yosemite and the old world. Here is the silence of the prime- val forest; no singing birds are heard in early summer; the only note of bird which is heard in the solitude is the oc- casional shriek of the hawk, the cawing of the crow or the screaming of the jay from the highest of the tree tops. This is nature's withdrawing room. She herself is at home, but the world is shut out.
If it should happen to be a cold November day, as it was when we visited the "Jams," yon cannot do better than stop at the Deer hill hotel on your way back and order refresh- ments. Mayhap, if it is after night-fall, you will be in time to see the village lads and lassies gather at this hotel for an old-
ON THE HIGHWAY BETWEEN HAYDENVILLE AND LEEDS,
THE HIRED MAN,
63
PICTURESQUE HAMPSHIRE.
A SONG FOR OLD HADLEY.
[Apology :-- cxxxvii Psalm.]
A song let us sing, to the old-fashioned measure, Of long vanished days that in memory dwell ; Old scenes and old faces, Old times and old places, In Hadley, Old Hadley, we all love so well. The grand Holyoke mountain, Connecticut river, The broad fertile meadow,-the magical spell
Of dear boyhood days 'neath the elms and the maples,-
Of Hadley, old Hadley, we all love so well. Come sing with us gladly Of Hadley, Old Hadley, The elm-bowered Hadley We all love so well.
Though wandering far from the old home and kindred, Her sous and her daughters, wherever we dwell, Still fondly are turning With true filial yearning To Hadley, Old Hadley, we all love so well. In fancy we drift down the swift rolling river, We roam as of yore to the old mountain dell. By moonlight we stroll 'neath the elms and the maples Of Hadley, Old Hadley, we all love so well. Come sing with us gladly Of Hadley, Old Hadley, The elm bowered Hadley We all love so well.
Sweet visions of Home ! 'Round the hearthstone we gather To greet those who loved us, whom we loved so well ! The elm trees are sighing :- The Past is replying.
We hear with each heart-throb an echoing knell.
The plumes of the broom-corn, that burnished the meadow Now wave us no welcome, as homeward we stray : The broom-shops, once ringing with laughter and singing, Keen wit, and gay humor, are silent to-day. Still sing we of Hadley, The vanishing Hadley, The elm-bowered Hadley; Our Hadley for aye !
Low dirges we hear in the towering tree-tops, Far over the valley sad requiems swell :- We miss from their places The dear old-time faces,
The long silent voices we all loved so well.
The mountain, and meadow, the swift rolling river, The elms, and the maples their sad story tell ;
The old trees are sighing !- In God's-acre lying,
Our loved ones of Hadley, Old Hadley, sleep well. Sing softly, sing sadly Of Hadley, Old Hadley ! Dear memories of Hadley We all love so well ! JOHN HOWARD JEWETT.
Worcester, Mass., Ang. 14th, 1890.
HOPKINS ACADEMY.
TEMPORARY BRIDGE AT FORT RIVER,
A Ride About the County.
CONTINUED FROM PRECEDING PAGE.
moisture enough to keep it alive, increasing very little in height for the last seventy-five years. Not far from this rock are two or three similar boulders but much smaller. About sev- enty rods west from the rock stands the original Campbell homestead, built by John Camp- bell, one of the pioneer settlers of Plain field, and a soldier of the revolution, more than 100 years ago. One mile west of this honse stands the birthplace of Chas. Dud- ley Warner. The Warner homestead has been rebuilt in part within the last twen- ty years.
The Campbell elm has a peculiarly formed tree trunk which has attracted much attention. Its size may be easily imagined from the human figure shown reclin- ing, upon it, in the illustra- tion.
The "mountain miller" has been already referred to in an article on the same page with illustration of the mill.
Of the views on the 56th page, not already spoken of, our limited space permits us to say little. We obtained the portrait of Charles Dud- ley Warner from his own family, the sketch of a sec- tion of the old village ceme- tery is a truthful one and the pen and ink sketches of the boys whittling and fish- ing come very appropriately on the same page with the likeness of that truthful de- lineator of boy character, who, very likely, was also that kind of a boy himself, even the much abused and
often closely-harnessed boy, who in another picture, is made to turn the grindstone.
From Plainfield let us retrace our steps through Cummington to Worthington. It is another up and down hill ride, but, curiously enough, while the approaches to Worthing-
WEST STREET, HADLEY.
THE RUSSELL CHURCH AND ELMWOOD HOUSE.
ton from the west and east are very hilly, when once there we find the town upon an extended table-land, stretching some miles north and south, and furnishing excellent drives, which are availed of by the summer visitors who come to this place in large numbers. The
[CONTINUED ON THE NEXT PAGE.]
THE FIRST CHURCH, HADLEY.
64
PICTURESQUE HAMPSHIRE.
Our railroad has settled the question For us, and for you,-by the way, Your folks over there in the city Oughter come to old Hadley and stay, Where land is still sold by the aere, An' a homestead means havin' a home, Not a bare pile o' bricks on a saud-lot,- Put that down, an' tell 'em to come.
We've all of your eivilized comforts Unmixed with your civilized sin ; Good preachin', the very best schoolin', An' none of your bustle an' din. Where's the school to match our Old Hopkins In teachin' idees how to shoot ? Your new Smith College 's our annex An' so is old Amherst to boot.
Land is risin' ! It can't help risin' More'n yeast ean,-that's plain to be seen, With Amherst an' Northampton erowded, An' Hadley just midway between. Drop a hint, on the sly, to your neighbors, An' eaution 'm not to delay ; Old Hadley 's your nateral suburb An' the boom is eomin this way.
Good-day ! if you must be a goin'; Well, yes, you may put my name down For a dozen of Picturesqne Hampshire, That is, if you'll " do us up brown." For Hadley 's no old fashioned rnin O' the Past, like a tumble-down shed, But a livin' and picturesque Present, With a bright bloomin' Future ahead !
JOHN HOWARD JEWETT.
September 1st, 1890.
THE NATIVE DISCOURSES.
HADLEY TRIUMPHANT.
[AN ALLEGED INTERVIEW WITH A NATIVE.]
Good mornin'! Well, yes, now I reckon You've struck the right nail on the head If you're looking 'round here for a native ;-; Jest tie up your horse in the shed ; These fall flies are pesky tormentin' An' spitefuller after a frost ; There's a streak of depraved hinman natur' In flies,-they don't like to be crost More'n a woman .- or man, for that matter,- This hay-cover'll be just the thing To keep off the flies, -'taint no trouble, I know how the critters will sting.
Come in ! No ?- then while you are restin' Yone'n sample a prime Bartlett pear ;
I take it you come from Northampton, How's everything goin' on there ?
Come over to talk of Old Hadley With a native ? Well. then I'll agree
I'm a native and alwuz belonged here An' some on't, by rights, b'longs to me.
Proud o' Hadley? Who wouldn't be proud on't? It's the hands'mest lay-ont o' land 'Twixt Greenland's old frost-bitten mountains And India's sun-roasted strand,
An' I'll tramp clean from Dan to Bathsheba In the brilin'est kind of a sun If you'll show me a patchin' to Hadley :- No ! stranger, the thing can't be done.
There's "The Street." as straight as an arrow. That's praised for its elms far an' wide, An' from bank to bank of the river A shady highway on each side Runs along our broad rolling common, More like a long velvety lawn For all to enjoy an' to share in ;- There, stranger, is where I was born, In the shadder of gret elms and maples, Their like I'll be bound never grew Outside o' the Garden of Eden. An I guess even there they were few.
Take a look off there to the south'ard, Two columns of gret towerin' trees, A straight mile of grace, strength an' beauty. Where on earth can you find elms like these? Folks talk about modern improvements, The mushroomy, make-shifts of man,- I tell you. it takes years of growin' To fill out the Almighty's plan.
You've struck the right place for your picters To put in your Picturesque Book, They're standin' around thick as mullen In a pastur,-wherever you look. There's a crop of young scribblers an' artists A blossomin' ont ev'ry year, With varses and picters of ruins, But mostly they libel us here. They can't do our scenery justice ; It's a leetle too much of a theme For a painter to stick on a canvas, Or a one-barrelled poet to dream.
I wish you'd put into your story That times here aint quite out of j'int, We're a mighty sight more than a relic,- It's time they discivered the p'int That Hadley's no old-fashioned ruin ()' the past, like a tumble-down shed. But a livin' and " picturesque present." With a bright bloomin' future ahead !
If you're workin' up Picturesque Hampshire. Why, this is the place to begin. With a town that can stan' on its merits, All the beauties of natur thrown in. Old Hadley was laid out to live in, With plenty of room and to spare For house-lot, an' home-lot an' medder ;- Twasn't planned by a shrewd millionaire. With checker-board squares for the dwellin's An' parcelled ont small, by the Inchi,
To be covered all over with dollars An' a mortgage to tighten the pinch !
------
6,4 mau
A GLIMPSE ACROSS THE FIELDS.
It is a conspicuous object on the hillside, abont a mile from the "Corners," and is evidence of growing taste in this community. If you inquire for pretty, pictur- esque places here you will be told to go to West Worthington Falls, about four miles away, over an- other up and down hill road. This is on the old Oliver Parrish estate and just beyond Willard Jones' eider mill. There is little hint, in the approach, to the beauties of this place and they need not be portrayed here, as they are thoroughly described in the sto- ry given in preceding pages. It was not many miles from this point that our artist photographed the
surroundings of a charcoal pit, work in which is one of the rural industries. The process of burn- ing has often been described and need not be dwelt upon here. The drive from Worthington to Mid- dlefield will familiar- ize one with the steepest and most stony roads in the county, and we shall more than once see the country mail box by the road-side in our rides hereabouts. The little girl, who has come out at the back door, with her doll in hand, evidently doesn't see strangers pass this way very often, but her parents are surely well- instructed and careful people, and they keep their little girl in tidy and neat dress. Middlefield is almost out of the world to people from the county-seat as there are so many hills to climb over, to reach it, and the nearest de- pot of the Boston& Albany railroad is three miles
THE OLD-FASHIONED CHIMNEY.
THE FORT MEADOW ROAD, LOOKING TOWARD MOUNTAIN.
A RIDE ABOUT THE COUNTY .- Continued.
"Corners " in Worthington is their favorite stopping-place and there are two hotels here for their accommodation. The pretty little church shown in the engraving is the only modern edifice of the kind in the hill towns, and was built but a few years since, to replace one destroyed by fire.
E
111
" WORKING UP " THE APPLE TREE STUMPS.
FORT RIVER BRIDGE,
from the center. This station is in Middlefield limits, but it is up hill all the way from there to the one store in the village. There is no hotel here, but board can be obtained in certain fami- lies, and we advise anybody complaining of malaria to go to Middlefield. We believe they will get it
65
PICTURESQUE HAMPSHIRE.
NORTH HADLEY-A WATER VISTA.
THE POND, LOOKING TOWARD MT. WARNER.
GETTING READY FOR DINNER.
blown out of them. They are a hardy, robust commu- nity on top of this hill, and there are a number of neat, tasteful residences here. The great rock in the field, south of the church, is an object of curiosity to stran- gers, and stands upon an extensive ledge, which shows the marks of glacial action. The village boys started to tip the rock over and roll it down the hill one Fourth of July, but the owner of the land, hearing of it, threat- ened prosecution and the attempt was abandoned. Middlefield boasts an agricultural society and largely attended fairs are held here every autumn. Glendale Falls are the principal attraction of the village, but judging from the difficulty we experienced in getting explicit directions how to find it, some of its inhabi- tants know little about it, and others are too busy to care. It is about two miles south-east of the center, on
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