USA > Massachusetts > Hampshire County > Northampton > The Northampton book; chapters from 300 years in the life of a New England town, 1654-1954 > Part 31
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In 1854 S. L. Hill and Isaac Parsons became associated with Mr. Critchlow and the company was known as A. P. Critchlow and Co. In 1857 D. G. Littlefield entered the company and in that year Mr. Critchlow sold out to Samuel L. Hill, Isaac Parsons, and D. G. Littlefield. After selling out his business in Florence, he visited his native land, England, and on his return in 1858 bought one of the old woolen mills in Leeds and commenced manufac- turing vegetable ivory buttons, continuing business for about 15 years. This was the first vegetable ivory button factory in this country, and the business was so successful that within 5 years a second mill was built.
Before the flood of 1874 Mr. Critchlow owned quite a portion of Leeds and was worth at least $ 100,000. In 1870, on account of failing health he withdrew from active work and spent 18 months in England. Later he traveled to South America, but never fully recovered his health. He returned here, and after rebuilding the mills which the flood destroyed, he held a leading position in the factory until his death in March 1881.
That this innovation, the manufacture of the vegetable ivory button, was a lasting contribution to the industry is seen by the fact that in 1929 nearly 8 million gross of vegetable ivory buttons were manufactured in the United States, valued at more than 41/2 million dollars, or nearly a fourth of the total value of buttons produced. In the Mill River region, however, the vegetable ivory button business did not become an industry of great size.
While primarily a factory village, Leeds also became a place of residence for leading men in the community. Among the his- torical homes of note today is the so-called James Smith home
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built on Audubon Road in 1793. This is the oldest home now standing here. Of salt box design, with four fireplaces, it still re- tains many of the Colonial features of earlier days. The beauty of the home has been enhanced by landscaping and care in recent years.
Another historical home is the Colonial residence of unusual charm built on Grove Hill in 1812 by Colonel James Shepherd. This is the second oldest home in Leeds. A. P. Critchlow later lived in this house. It was also occupied by George P. Warner, son-in-law of Mr. Critchlow, who was affiliated with the button company.
During a recession in business after the famous flood Mr. Critchlow gave employment to local men when he built a high stone wall, typical of many seen on estates in his native England, around most of his property. This property later became part of the Dimock estate, and is now a four-apartment house.
The Solomon Warner Tavern built in 1812 at the junction of Haydenville Road and Florence Street, Leeds, was one of the tavern stops made by the Boston-Albany stage coaches. It was later occupied by Moses Warner, whose son Henry was born there in 1858. When Henry married he and his family resided there and carried on the farm. Mr. Warner was at one time local postmaster and also state representative. In 1913 the property was sold to a Mr. Davenport who conducted a saw mill and Mr. War- ner went to live in Florence.
In 1922 President Warren Harding approved the construction of a Veterans Hospital in the vicinity of Northampton and this site, known as "Bear Hill," was chosen. Through a public sub- scription drive, conducted by Frederick A. Farrar, President of the Northampton Chamber of Commerce, money was raised and land was purchased from J. L. Warner and A. S. Warner of Florence and Mr. Davenport of Leeds. All land and property thereon was combined into one deed, made out to Frederick A. Farrar, and he, as President of the Chamber of Commerce, pre- sented it to the Federal Government. It consisted of 288 acres of farm and wood lot, Warner's Tavern, a story and a half cottage, and the sawmill. The entire property frontage for the hospital grounds was 4300 feet. It is on an elevation of 120 feet above the main highway. In 1922 the contract for the construction of build- ings on this site was awarded by the War Department and the first
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buildings were completed in 1924. The first patients were ad- mitted in that year. Later the historical Solomon Warner Tavern was demolished.
The present Clark homestead on upper Audubon Road is the third "Clark" house to stand on this site and is now occupied by Mary Clark Dickinson (Mrs. Edward R. Dickinson). The Clark farm also includes many acres of woodlot, and extends to the Williamsburg line. The present house is over 100 years old.
The Jonathan Day home, also on this street, and the Hennessy home on upper Water Street are also more than 100 years old. The Hennessy home, of salt box architecture, is one of the homes to which the early Catholics came to attend Mass, celebrated by mis- sion priests traveling from distant points.
Lucius Dimock, director of the Corticelli Silk Co., built a pre- tentious brick dwelling on Grove Hill and acquired a 15-acre estate. Later Samuel W. Lee married his daughter Emma Dimock, and they resided here also. Mr. Lee in later years was an official of the silk company. This dwelling was started in the spring of 1879 and completed in the fall of 1880. Adjacent to this home Mr. Dimock maintained a private greenhouse and caretaker. The property also consisted of a fruit orchard and a large barn with several cows. He also had several beautiful driving horses and carriages and a liveryman. Much of this estate was surrounded by a grove of beautiful trees and a high cedar hedge. On the southern boundary was the high English style stone wall built by Mr. Critchlow.
Today Leeds is primarily a residential community. Many new homes have sprung up since 1946 and in 1953 a new school build- ing was opened.
Chapter Forty-One
Floods and Disasters
By LUCY WILSON BENSON
I T was a great sea, sir, thirty feet high, and it made a noise like thunder! As it passed it was a tornado of water, a hill of water, sir, a moving hill." These were the words with which Col- lins Graves, the Paul Revere of the Mill River Valley, described the onslaught of the Great Flood which devastated the valley from Williamsburg to the Florence Meadows 80 years ago when the Williamsburg dam gave way.
The Great Flood of 1874 stands out clearly as the most extraor- dinary catastrophe among the disasters which have beleaguered Northampton and her surrounding communities during the past 300 years. The chronicle begins in 1692 with a flood that main- tained its reputation as the "greatest flood of the Connecticut River" for over a hundred years. A century later, the Gazette records Northampton's first "great" fire, while the city's one tor- nado, killing one person and blowing down the Hadley Bridge, occurred in 1877. The 20th century has brought Northampton three mammoth Connecticut River floods, those of 1927, 1936, and the 1938 hurricane-flood which wrought unprecedented damage in the Connecticut Valley and all of New England.
"Breathing destruction and annihilation like the breath of an angry God," the Great Flood of 1874 wreaked tragic havoc on the peaceful communities lining the Mill River. The rupture of the dam caused 145 deaths, wiped out the little village of Skinner- ville, and within the space of an hour reversed the industrial character of the area. The water came thundering down the nar- row valley pushing houses, factories, trees, and boulders in front of it, and engulfing men, women, and children, as well as live- stock, until it was spent and dispersed in the Florence Meadows.
Where there had been houses, shops, and factories large and small, an utter nothingness remained. Solid brick structures and heavy machinery crumbled as quickly as did white clapboard
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houses. In all, 15 factories-button shops, flouring and silk mills, and the famous brass works-and over 100 homes were destroyed.
The infamous Williamsburg dam had been built 3 miles north of the village in 1865 by the leading industrialists of the valley to stimulate the growth of manufacturing. Fears as to its safety were entertained at the time of construction and during the years which followed, especially "when it leaked," but it was claimed that the dam was "as strong as a single shaft of granite."
On the morning of May 16th, the gatekeeper, George Cheney, made his rounds at 6 o'clock and found the dam "leaking at the bottom no more than usual." At 7:30, however, he was struck with horror when he saw a "great gush" of water rush through a section of the dam. Hoping to relieve the pressure, Cheney opened the gates of the dam and then raced on his horse to the village to warn of the impending cataclysm. The only person astir was Collins Graves, who was delivering milk. Hearing Cheney's shouts, Graves started with his horse-drawn milk wagon on his famous ride to Haydenville, saving over 300 people who were working in the Skinnerville and Haydenville mills. In Hayden- ville, other men took up the cry, among them a young boy named James Ryan who ran through the main street just ahead of the water crying "It's right here! Get up! Get up! To the hills!", and Myron Day who carried the news to Leeds giving many people time to flee.
Collins Graves' ride was soon immortalized in the famous poem, "The Ride of Collins Graves" by John Boyle O'Reilly, part of which reads:
He cries and is gone; but they know the worst- The treacherous Williamsburg dam has burst! The basin that cherished their happy homes Is changed to a demon-It comes! It comes!
When heroes are called for, bring the crown .. . To this Yankee rider; . . .
For he offered his life for the people's sake!
The entire area was described as a "veritable valley of destruc- tion." Contemporary accounts of the catastrophe spoke of the water as being 20 feet high, "but at one point it was seen brushing the top branches of a tree 40 feet from the ground." Eye-witnesses told newspapermen from Boston and New York that it was "an
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onslaught, terrible and grand beyond description, like the heaviest of ocean waves preceded by thunder such as could not be imag- ined. Houses were taken up like kindling to crumble as ashes, trees mown down as if grass, and boulders tossed like pebbles. The water came and swallowed up. The people on the low places were no more and the people on the high places wrung their hands."
In an hour, the cataclysm was over, but the grievous search for the missing lasted for days. Without precedent in the country, the Great Flood was included for a number of years in American history textbooks because it effected not only a great tragedy of human life but also a significant upheaval in the social and eco- nomic life of the valley.
Many pages of Northampton's history are filled with accounts of calamitous Connecticut and Mill River floods which have wrought tremendous loss in property, but, unlike the Great Flood, have caused few losses of human lives. In comparison with the staggering damage inflicted on the city and the environs by the goliath floods of this century, the deluges of the 19th century seem almost to pale into insignificance. They are now of interest primarily for unusual or humorous incidents, or for topographical reasons.
Some 40 men in 3 shad fishing boats made adventurous expedi- tions from Williams Street in Northampton to Cooks' Tavern in Hadley during both the 1801 and 1843 floods. "They fastened their boats to the leg of a long barroom table and it was a merry time," according to one 19th century chronicler.
The deluge of 1840 soon became known as the "Ox-Bow Flood." The swift current of the Connecticut cut a new channel across the neck of a large turn in her normal course, just below "the village of Northampton." "The prospect from the summit of Mount Holyoke will be marred," wrote a correspondent of the Gazette, "for this graceful turn of the river afforded one of the most delightful scenes which met the eye, at that distinguished place of resort."
"It will probably be known as the Lincoln Flood and has been the absorbing topic of the week here, the war news even being of secondary interest," wrote the Gazette of the flood of April, 1862. The water flowed over and broke through the first Maple (now Conz) Street dike, built after the 1854 flood which was
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thought at the time to represent the "highest the water could possibly rise." The old South Street bridge was one foot under water and flat bottomed boats "traversed it and sailed over the dike all day."
Northampton suffered two severe floods in 1869. The Maple Street dike broke during the April flood and the water inun- dated the lower part of Main Street for the first time in the history of the city. The October flood, dubbed the "Pumpkin Flood," carried away all the unharvested crops causing the Connecticut to be "jammed full of pumpkins from Deerfield south."
Notable for its sudden onslaught, the flood of November, 1927, was Northampton's worst deluge prior to 1936. Three persons, Charles Rubeck and his wife of Fort Street and Benjamin Denio of Hadley, lost their lives. The river inundated all of the Hock- anum Road area, lower Pleasant, Holyoke, Williams, and West Streets, forcing the abandonment of 101 homes. Gas and electric plants managed to maintain operations only by the narrowest of margins, but the Maple Street dike held.
March 1936 and September 1938 long will be remembered by residents of Northampton as months of calamitous "double dis- asters." In 1936, Northampton and the environs were in the 5th day of a siege caused by an ice jam at Mt. Tom Junction and flood waters only slightly lower than those of '27 when the record- breaking, or "King," flood descended on the city. In 1938, the flood and hurricane arrived almost simultaneously, with the flood reaching its peak shortly after the tropical windstorm.
The most disastrous inundation in the history of the Connecti- cut Valley, the '36 flood, lasted from March 13 to March 23. Northampton was a beleaguered city: gas service was suspended and electrical power interrupted; the danger of epidemic consti- tuted a real threat; communication by car and train was halted; and telephone and telegraph services were severely crippled.
The entire populations of Hadley and Sunderland were forced to evacuate to Amherst and other communities on higher ground, and 150 residents of Hatfield were rescued by boat. Hundreds of refugees were fed and housed in the Northampton Armory, American Legion Headquarters, People's Institute, Memorial Hall, Scott Gymnasium, and in many private homes. Over 32 streets were inundated, many of them with as much as 3 to 5 feet
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of water. Some 555 homes were seriously flooded, while even more had to be abandoned.
Water poured over the Maple Street dike and the Mill River overflowed its banks forcing the complete evacuation of the area; all approaches to the railroad station were flooded and the Main Street underpass was more than half filled with the waters which also invaded the Calvin Theatre and the YMCA.
The first part of the flood and the ice jam had caused train wrecks and road washouts, forced schools and factories to close, and had undermined buildings throughout the valley and the Berkshires. Two automobiles were crushed by the ice on the Mo- hawk Trail, and the Connecticut, blocked by the ice jam, backed up into Northampton wedging cakes of ice weighing several tons between the Hadley bridges and depositing them on the North- ampton-Holyoke road.
Just as the ice jam was breaking up and the waters beginning to recede, the "King Flood," brought on by two days of torrential rains in the north, set in. Mill River began to rise at the rate of a foot an hour; Cummington was evacuated. Hadley, Hatfield, Florence, and Williamsburg soon were suffering under condi- tions far worse than in 1927.
By March 19, Northampton was in the grip of an unprece- dented disaster. The National Guard was called out to aid the city. State and Municipal police, private citizens, Boy Scouts, and Sea Scouts from Salem, the CCC, and students from Amherst College and the State College worked frantically to rescue people stranded in the low-lying areas.
A Hadley man, William McGrath, lost his life when the boat which had rescued him was overturned by blocks of ice flowing with the swift current. The rescuers, B. O. Moody and his son Gordon, Tom Hannigan, and Francis Hart, all of Amherst, were thrown into the branches of some apple trees where they hung on as the ice "battered the trees like trucks." It was morning be- fore they were rescued by the Sea Scouts.
In the space of one day, 5 bridges in the area were washed out: 3 in Montague, including the longest covered bridge in the state, and one each in Northfield and Sunderland. The entire Connecti- cut Valley was alerted to prepare for evacuation as the Vernon Dam, south of Brattleboro, was thought to be on the verge of
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washing out. It was apparently by the slimmest margin that the dam held against the tremendous pressures exerted by the river.
The peak of the flood, reached March 20, was recorded at Par- sons' Garage on Maple Street as 6 feet higher than that of 1927. Conditions did not begin to return to normal for many days. It was March 23 before many people could return to their homes to begin the gigantic job of cleaning. Boy Scouts continued to patrol the flooded areas, and the People's Institute maintained its sched- ule for feeding refugees. Train and bus service was partially re- stored by the 26th, but only emergency vehicle traffic was al- lowed to cross the Hadley bridge. Mount Tom highway, which at the height of the flood was 131/2 feet underwater, remained closed except for bus traffic until March 3 Ist, and 150 WPA and CCC men were still working in the city during the first week of April.
Of all the eastern states, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania suf- fered the heaviest casualties and damage. More than a score were dead in Pittsburgh; in a 14 state area, the death toll mounted to 194, and 300,000 people were rendered homeless.
Some two and a half years later, on September 22, 1938, the hurricane-flood, a second disaster of nature's timing, descended on Northampton as well as on all of New England. The giant windstorm, arriving on top of bad flood conditions and accom- panied by torrential rains, caused many deaths and inflicted im- mense property damage, tearing buildings from foundations, wrecking houses, destroying crops, and uprooting enormous trees like toothpicks. In this area, the hurricane caused one death: John Zawacki of Hatfield was killed by a falling tree.
The flooded Connecticut was turned into a raging ocean, with breakers 8 feet high, by the hurricane whose velocity reached 90 miles per hour in the valley. Sea Scouts and police rescued all the inhabitants of the Mount Tom and Hockanum areas who, along with nearly 600 flood refugees in Northampton, Hatfield, and Hadley, were cared for by the Disaster Relief Committee of the Hampshire County Red Cross.
"It was a scene of the most disastrous chaos," streets and high- ways clogged, live power lines strewn about, and dwellings crushed and ripped open. One of Northampton's greatest trees, opposite Rahar's Inn, thundered down and demolished several cars as well as a corner of the Inn. In Northampton, over 1000
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trees were blown down, 245 in Childs Park alone. Fortunately, "one of the finest trees in the United States," the black oak "Ar- mistice Tree" in Childs Park was spared destruction.
The one bright spot in the disaster was the valiant and success- ful fight to maintain the Maple Street Dike. Seventy-five CCC boys, aided by 150 townspeople, worked all night September 22, plugging leaks and bolstering weak spots against the tremendous pressure of the water. The crest of the flood, reached on the 23rd, measured 3 feet below the '36 peak.
The conditions resulting from the two floods pointed as never before to the crying need for flood control measures in North- ampton, and in 1940 a system consisting of a pumping station and two dikes was completed. The dike protecting the Pleasant and Maple Street areas runs from behind the Northampton School for Girls to the hill west of Route 5, while the second dike starts on the Smith College campus, diverts the Mill River to the west of the city and runs to the high lands of South Street. In addition to providing protection from great floods, the pumping station saves the city from the minor floods which had perennially plagued the low-lying areas.
The Hose Companies of bygone days and the Fire Departments of the contemporary era have well earned the respect of North- ampton residents. Legion are the fires, many of them "enormous conflagrations," which they have combatted during the history of the city.
The year 1870 witnessed two of the most destructive fires in all Northampton's history. In May, the Hunt Building and Ed- wards Church were totally burned down by a fire which "threat- ened to consume all of 'Shop Row,' as well as the whole town." In July, "the biggest fire ever" completely consumed the famous Warner House, the Warner Block, and the Lyman brick and wooden blocks. The scene of the fire was directly opposite the former sites of the Hunt Building and Edwards Church, and the Gazette reported that "for many months the center of town rep- resented a sad and melancholy spectacle, but the enterprise of our citizens was equal to the emergency, and measures were immedi- ately taken for rebuilding." The Warner House had been built in 1794 by Asahel Pomeroy, "a Northampton figure of Revo- lutionary fame," whose own home had been burned down in Northampton's first fire. For many years the hotel of Northamp-
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ton's business community, the Warner House was noted for its renowned guests and for the many famous political campaigns which had been planned within its walls.
A "veritable holocaust" was the burning in July, 1876, of the First Church, one of Northampton's time honored and cherished edifices. Sounding its own requiem, the church bell rang the warning and in 45 minutes the famous steeple, 155 feet high, "sank with a thunderous crash into the flaming chasm of the church." Fourteen streams of water were played on the church by the Hose Companies of Northampton, Leeds, Bay State, and Florence, but the church burned like tinder, shooting up flames hundreds of feet high.
The First Church, with its noble proportions and prominent position on Meeting House Hill, was a conspicuous landmark and was known as one of the finest buildings in western Massachusetts. Built in 1811-12, it was for many years the largest church in the state. The Gazette commented that it was a great loss to the town and that its rebuilding imposed a severe burden owing to a pro- longed depression and the bank robbery which had caused a great loss of money to many members of the parish.
The High School, erected in 1895 at a cost of $60,000, was destroyed by fire in 1914 and the last wooden building on Main Street burned down in 1924. One of the most spectacular confla- grations was the Boston and Maine freight yard fire in 1917. Ig- nited by an overturned kerosene lantern, the flames spread rapidly and destroyed many freight cars, the station platform, and the freight shed which was filled with shipments to Northampton merchants-including "20 barrels of sugar consigned to Beck- mann's."
Smith College's worst fire occurred late one December night 10 years ago when Dickinson House, one of the four dormitories built 50 years earlier by Franklin King, the college's first grounds superintendent, was completely destroyed. All 64 students, the head of house, and all but one of the staff were able to escape by regular means; the fifth staff member was carried down the aerial ladder by Captain Havelock Purseglove. Fire Departments from Easthampton, Holyoke, Chicopee, and Greenfield assisted the total fire fighting forces of Northampton in the valiant but unsuccessful struggle to save the dormitory.
Northampton's most recent conflagration was the Smith School
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fire in February, 1945. What was described as a "priceless as- sortment of machinery and tools being used to aid the war effort" was lost in the fire which the firemen were unable to control owing to the low water pressure and the head start attained by the fire when a number of barrels of turpentine went up in flames that "soared to the skies in the most spectacular fashion."
One of Northampton's strangest disasters was the tornado of June, 1877. Eye-witnesses said that it seemed to "aim straight for the Hadley Bridge" which was lifted in one piece off its piers and dashed to pieces in the river. Six teams of horses and 11 persons were crossing the bridge when the tornado hit. Mrs. Catherine Sullivan was killed and a boy of fifteen "was lifted from the ground on the Hadley side and deposited on the top branches of a poplar tree close by."
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