Hadley (Kingsley)/Hadley
PHYSICAL environment is but a cradle for the growth of ideas. Thought, in its all embracing sweep, can command all avenues of human expression, can o'erleap the boundaries of time and space, and fill the soul with a power to penetrate the veil of an immortal destiny. Through a creative faculty inherent in the best of finite minds, the Creator controls the affairs of a universe. With one eye on the stars, for a balance, and but a plank under his feet, Columbus crossed a trackless ocean, to give a new world to the old, and for five hundred years this pathway has been traveled by a human tide which no power of vested interests could stop, no ecclesiastical dogma control, or fiery persecution lead from its course toward liberty of thought and higher civilization.
When the best blood of England measured swords with royal prerogative, it was on the bleak shore of Massachusetts that refugees found a home—and a line drawn from the seashore across the centre of the state to the crest of Mount Holyoke, and thence to the mouth of the Connecticut river, would bring into view most of the region that nursed the mental force which has proved so large a factor in the welfare of sixty millions of people.
But it is a basin scooped by the waters long ago in the, granite foundations of Western Massachusetts that holds our centre of interest at the present moment. Just at the junction of the hill country of northern New England with the more level lands in Connecticut the Holyoke range shuts across the southern front of the valley like a wall, broken only by a single narrow passage made by the river, on its course to the sea. Looking out from the shadow of the mountains upon this cup, that was once brimming with crystal waters from the snow caps of the White mountains, the eye can feast upon as fair a scene as the sun ever shone upon.
Tradition proves that this has always been a favored spot in the eyes of the children of men who inhabited it. Indian trails from all points of the compass concentrated on the rude forts scattered along the foothills that formed the rim of the basin, and as a military necessity the pioneers of the white race chose the neck of a peninsula formed by a sweep of the river, in the midst of a verdant meadow, as one more resting place for weary feet while subduing a wilderness.
At the present time the valley is becoming crowded with thriving towns, the electric gong and steam whistle are heard in the land, and there is much running to and fro in the interest of material things.
But, as in the beginning, the wide street still spans the peninsula, the river still loops its silver ribbon around the grassy meadows, and the church spires pierce the blue out of the elm embowered foliage.
Peaceful as a dream of childhood, ancient in dress of bygone days, Old Hadley holds a proud place as a mother and protector of famous names in the stirring drama of the world's history. Sleepy, quiet Hadley! How the sons and daughters love to come back from their wanderings and look upon thy face out of the shadow of the mountain.
Even as Mecca to the followers of Mohammed, or the sacred groves of India for the worshipers of Brahma, so shall thy shrine increase in importance forevermore.
Only salient events can now be touched upon, in the history of this locality. One can only pull aside the curtain for an hour in different stages of the drama, and we can find no better resting-place than among the pine groves on the cliffs of Holyoke. First of all, tradition says that the lower levels were free from
heavy forests, being burned over by the Indians every year. Thus the first settlers were attracted by the grassy intervales along the banks of the river. The explorers of this basin must have come by the river through the gap in the mountains, or it is possible that stragglers from the old "Bay Path" should have climbed the mountain spurs from the east and looked into the valley. At all events, in a short space of time, the single broad street of Hadley was staked out for each family dwelling-place, while the outlying lands were absorbed for agricultural purposes. Indeed, so rapid was the spread of this new people that their outlying settlements reached to the north, beyond the dome of Sugarloaf. The Indians were crowded to the mountain fastnesses, where they watched the absorption of their hunting grounds with increasing jealousy.
In addition, there was the constant menace of royal displeasure from home, as well as danger of invasion from the north, by rival colonies in Canada.
Such was the state of affairs when Charles II. ascended the throne of England and commenced the persecution of his father's judges. Three of the "Regicides" fled to the colonies, and two of Cromwell's supporters, Lt.-Gen. Whalley and Maj.-Gen. Goffe, were for a long time hid in a cellar close by the present village inn in Hadley. Not much definite information can be gathered at this time, as their movements were enveloped in mystery and known to a very few. We can imagine their wanderings in the wilderness. First they appeared at Boston, then at New Haven, Hartford, and finally at Hadley, where Whalley died.
When "King Philip's War" broke out Hadley was the centre of the military movement, and there occurred the romantic episode dear to the popular heart, called "A visitation of the angel of the Lord." A man of noble and imposing men appeared during an Indian attack upon the town, and led the "chosen people" to victory; then, while they were praying, suddenly disappeared and left no trace. Poets and novelists have made much of this mysterious thread of legendary lore.
One item may be added to the list of probabilities. The small mill stream rising in the Amherst hills joins the Connecticut at the foot of the mountain southeast of the town. and takes its name, "Fort River," from an Indian fort on a high bluff overlooking the bank. Opposite, where the stream debouches out upon the plain, is another eminence called "Indian hill," which extends to the bank of the Connecticut. These elevations have been found especially rich in Indian relics, such as bones, arrows and utensils. Some claim that they are not only sites of Indian residences, but are ancient battle grounds, and probably have connection with historic events. The usual showing of the Goffe incident, by artist and poet, is that the people were in church, the Indians appeared at the door and the unknown descended like an "angel," with sword in hand, so they were enabled to drive off the enemy. Those best acquainted with the ground seek a more realistic solution. The Indians on the west had been driven northward and would not be likely to cross the river and the open meadow to reach the town. The only avenue for a surprise was from the southeast, with a rendezvous at the fort under the mountain. It is claimed that General Goffe, with his knowledge of military affairs, would look out for an attack from this quarter. and consequently did plan a counter-stroke with the soldiers in his confidence. and thus the battle was actually fought south of the town, on Indian hill. It is thought that if the Indians reached the street the village would have been burned. At all events here are the remains of a fort, and opposite is Indian hill, with the waters of the Connecticut uncovering curious relics year after year, and the little mill stream continues to wind in long serpentine curves over the "Hockanum" meadows, very much in general appearance, probably, as when the country was first settled.
Soon the Indians were driven from the vicinity, but for many years the frontiers were harassed by incursions from the north. The broad street was stockaded, and at the appearance of danger the flocks were driven inside and sentinels posted at the gates. This unsettled state of affairs extended through the French and Indian wars, almost to the period of the Revolution. The settlements on the river communicated by boat with Hartford and Long Island Sound, or reached Boston overland by the old "Bay Path."
In the conflict with the mother country Hadley was again a prominent centre of important affairs. After the fight at Saratoga a part of Burgoyne's army was marched across the country and encamped in the meadow at the south end of the street, while the officers were entertained in the village. Burgoyne presented his tent and sword to his host, as keepsakes, and the sword is preserved by descendants of the family to this day. There are also relics and traditions relating to these British soldiers preserved in Hatfield, an offshoot of Hadley, across the river to the north. As time went on, not only Hatfield and Amherst were separated from the mother town, but other streets were added eastward of the broad front street, and as the balance of power increased on the outskirts the village church was moved to the second street, and led to the formation of two societies—hence the twin church spires.
Closely identified with the history of the town has been the Hopkins Academy, an institution founded by Governor Hopkins in the early days, in the cause of education. Most of the descendants of the town who have become prominent in the growth of the country were graduates of this school. The old brick structure, in the middle of Academy Lane, was burned. Another building was put up at the centre of Middle street, and this was also burned. It has just been replaced in better form than ever and the original Hopkins fund is in a highly prosperous condition.
Of course, for a long time, the travels of the enterprising were confined to journeys to Boston as a centre, and trips up and down the river, but when the great west began to open up golden promises to the fathers of the present generation, Hadley contributed a large share of the pioneers eager for new conquests. One young man was six weeks journeying to Ohio, and other families have to tell of fathers going all the way to California and returning with only a single lump of gold as a keepsake. And more have planted homes in the new countries, and now the children are coming to look up the traditions of the parents.
Then came the civil war, and again Hadley was to the front. The young men of the present generation had just witnessed a bi-centennial celebration (in 1859) on the old broad street, with its unique Indian attack and gala dress parade. Their turn at the serious business of war was to come, and the early spring morning that witnessed the firing on Sumter furnished the occasion. One after another of the flower of the town were enrolled in the different Massachusetts regiments, so that there was hardly a family but had a representative on distant battle fields. From Virginia to Louisiana they had marched and fought, and many found a grave under a southern sun. Of course the most prominent of the Hadley soldiers was Gen. Joseph Hooker, born on West street and a graduate of Hopkins Academy. His birthplace is still standing, in good state of preservation, near the upper end of the street, under the shelter of one of the magnificent elms, that is known to be over a hundred years old, and goes so far in making this one of the finest avenues in the world. It is unnecessary here to go into detail on the life of General Hooker, as the gathering of his comrades under the shadow of the elm of his birthplace will be a far better memory than words can express. The day and the occasion is one more pearl in the necklace of fame for the old town in the bend of the river.
The veterans of the war have grown gray, and as year after year they march to the cemetery in the meadow, to decorate the graves of those gone before, their ranks grow thinner, and soon all will be gathered to the last resting place.
This meadow cemetery is nearly filled up, and it is an eloquent memorial of the past. First, at the western end, are the brown stones of the early settlers, moss grown and with inscriptions scarcely legible, then the eastern portion is being thickly filled with the marble stones of more modern days, so that the inhabitants of the burial ground outnumber the living in the elm embowered street.
Within a stone's throw of the cemetery the shriek of a the locomotive is heard every day, and the wide street is cut in twain by a monster that would frighten the early settlers back to their graves.
With the rapidity of action inherent to all modern thought, and the ability to annihilate time and space with new inventions, it is an interesting question to note what shall become of "Old Hadley" in the next hundred years.
Shall she continue to send out shoots from the parent stem all over the continent, or shall she become absorbed into the growth of the modern city? Let the future decide!