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
