Various
Historic Towns of New England
Another evidence of the philanthropic feeling animating the citizens of Hartford about the same date as the foundation of the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, was the establishment in 1824, of the Connecticut Retreat for the Insane. At that time there were only two other institutions in the country for the exclusive care of insane persons, and the importance of restorative treatment was but little understood.
Many citizens of Hartford signed the petition requesting the General Assembly to pass an act of incorporation for Washington College, and when the news of its passage was received, May 16, 1823, their joy was manifested by the lighting of bonfires and the firing of cannon. The people of Hartford surpassed all others in raising money for the new institution. More than three fourths of the sum appropriated by the State, $50,000, was contributed by them, and their city was therefore selected as the seat of the College. A fine site was secured on an eminence overlooking the Little River, the hill now crowned by the beautiful State Capitol, and in 1825 two buildings were ready for occupation. The College was opened under the presidency of the Rt. Rev. Thomas C. Brownell, Bishop of Connecticut, and at all times since its foundation the institution has been administered by men of learning and wisdom. The name was changed in 1844 to Trinity College. In 1871, when the city of Hartford decided to offer to the State a site for the new Capitol, it was proposed to purchase the College campus for that purpose and in February, 1872, the trustees sold the grounds to the city, reserving the right to use them for five or six years. In 1873 a site of some eighteen acres on the slope of Rocky Hill, commanding a beautiful view in every direction, was purchased by the College. Ground was broken on Commencement Day, 1875, with impressive ceremonies, and two large buildings were ready for occupation in 1878. The erection of the Northam Gateway, in 1881, unites the buildings and completes the western side of the proposed quadrangle. The lofty towers have added greatly to the appearance of the structure. The style of architecture is secular Gothic of the early French type.
The buildings of the Theological Seminary on Broad Street attract attention by their size and dignity. The institution was established in East Windsor in 1833, and was removed to Hartford in 1865, occupying the old Wadsworth house and other buildings on Prospect Street. In 1879, the present structure was occupied, and it has since been enlarged by the addition of the Case Library.
The first great manufacturing enterprise in Hartford, and still perhaps the best known and most important, is the Colt’s Patent Fire Arms Manufacturing Company, established by Colonel Samuel Colt in 1848. Colonel Colt planned his works on a magnificent scale, and time has proved the wisdom of his plans. To pistols, rifles, and shotguns the company has added, from time to time, the manufacture of gun machinery, Gatling guns, printing-presses, portable steam-engines, and Colt automatic guns. Aside from the output of weapons and machinery, the Colt works have been of great value as an educating force in applied mechanics, and they have turned out many men who have founded large manufacturing establishments. The armory grounds now include two memorial buildings, the Church of the Good Shepherd, built in 1868 by Mrs. Colt, in memory of her husband, and a companion to this, built in 1896, a parish house, in memory of Commodore Caldwell H. Colt, a structure complete and satisfying in all its decorations and appointments. Another memorial structure in the city is just approaching completion, – the Keney Memorial Tower. In this, Hartford will possess an architectural feature unique in American cities, – a Norman bell and clock tower, with fine carvings.
The Messrs. Keney have left another memorial of themselves in the Keney Park, a fine addition to the Hartford park system. The beauty of Hartford and its desirability as a residence have both been much increased by the munificence of individual citizens, and the wise policy of the city government in creating a system of public parks. The first of these, Bushnell Park, the city owes to the wise forethought of Dr. Horace Bushnell, one of her most distinguished citizens. Laid out in 1859, it is, probably, after Central Park in New York, the oldest public city park in the country, and it was obtained in the face of much opposition by a man possessed of great intellect and foresight – for whom it was named in 1876. The building of the Capitol on the brow of the hill overlooking the Park, and the construction of the Soldiers’ Memorial Arch in 1886, have added much to its beauty and completeness. In 1894, Hartford acquired another park the gift of Col. Albert A. Pope, the head of the Pope Manufacturing Company. This park is situated in the south part of the city.
Very soon afterwards, by the will of Charles M. Pond, the city became possessed of a valuable tract of land on Prospect Hill, the former residence of Mr. Pond. This he desired should be called Elizabeth Park in memory of his wife. Now the Pope, Elizabeth, Keney, and Riverside Parks, the latter on the north meadows and near the city water-works, make a boulevard around Hartford, which will add much in the future to the beauty of this already beautiful city.
After the brilliant galaxy of the “Hartford Wits” disappeared, a graver class of literary men took their places: Noah Webster, with his spelling-book and dictionary (he was born in Hartford, West Division, Oct. 16, 1758); Samuel G. Goodrich (Peter Parley); Mrs. Lydia Huntley Sigourney, who obtained the title of “the American Hemans,” an almost lifelong resident of Hartford, where her first volume of poems was published in 1815; George Denison Prentice and John Greenleaf Whittier both lived in Hartford for a time, doing editorial work, when they were yet young and unknown men; Henry Barnard, LL.D., distinguished for his labors in the cause of education, was born in Hartford in 1811, and is still enjoying an honored old age in his native city. But the man of highest genius in Hartford’s list of authors during the first half of this century was Horace Bushnell. He came to the city in 1833, as pastor of the North Church, and remained until his death, in 1876. His sermons and essays all show great imagination and beauty of style, as well as great power of thought. In 1864, Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, who had once before lived in Hartford as a teacher in the famous school of her sister, Miss Catharine Beecher, again took up her residence in the city, and continued to live here until her death, in 1896.
During this period a number of her later works were written.
Of living authors, Charles Dudley Warner and Samuel L. Clemens (Mark Twain) have a world-wide reputation. Mr. Warner came to Hartford in 1860, as one of the editors of the Press, and subsequently became one of the owners and editors of the Courant, with which paper he is still associated. His Summer in a Garden, which first brought him into notice, appeared in the columns of his newspaper in 1870, and since that time he has written many essays, novels, and books of travel. Mr. Clemens was born in Florida, Missouri, November 30, 1835, has lived in Hartford since 1871, and all his books which have appeared since 1872 have been written in our city, except his latest, Following the Equator. John Fiske, the historian and essayist, was born in Hartford in 1842, but he left the city at an early age, and his reputation has been won elsewhere. The same can be said of Edmund Clarence Stedman, the poet and critic, who was born in Hartford in 1833.
James Hammond Trumbull, LL.D., born in Stonington in 1821, but almost a lifelong resident of Hartford, dying there in 1897, was one of the most distinguished philologists and antiquarians in the country, and his great familiarity with the Indian tongues made him an authority on that subject. Dr. Trumbull’s brother, Rev. Henry Clay Trumbull, D.D., of Philadelphia, since 1875 editor of the Sunday School Times, was a resident of our city from the year 1851 to 1875, and during that period he published some of his religious and biographical works. Two other members of the same family, a sister and daughter of Dr. J. H. Trumbull, Mrs. Annie Trumbull Slosson, and Miss Annie Eliot Trumbull, have distinguished themselves in literature, by their novels and short stories, some being character studies of New England life. In this line also another Hartford writer excelled, Mrs. Rose Terry Cooke, who was born in Hartford in 1827, and died in Pittsfield, Mass., in 1892. She contributed many graphic stories of rural New England life to the pages of the Atlantic Monthly, Harpers’, and other magazines, which stories were afterwards collected and published in book form. Richard Burton, born in Hartford in 1858, recently appointed Professor of English Literature in the University of Minnesota, has already made a name among the younger men as a poet and critic. Frederick Law Olmsted, born in Hartford, November 10, 1822, now a resident of Brookline, Mass., is well known as one of the foremost landscape-gardeners in this country, and he has also made valuable contributions to the literature of travel and horticulture. Many other persons, either natives or residents of Hartford, have won renown in various fields of authorship. In the art world, Hartford claims Frederick E. Church and William Gedney Bunce, the painters, E. S. Bartholomew, the sculptor, and William Gillette, the actor and playwright, all natives of the city.
Hartford citizens have borne their part in the councils of the nation. Gideon Welles was Secretary of the Navy under President Lincoln during the Civil War, and until 1869. Isaac Toucey held the same office under President Buchanan. Hon. John M. Niles was Postmaster-General in 1840, under Van Buren, and also Senator for a long period. The Hon. Marshall Jewell was appointed by President Grant United States Minister to Russia in 1873, and in 1874 he was recalled to enter the Cabinet as Postmaster-General. In later years the Hon. James Dixon and General J. R. Hawley have been prominent in the United States Senate.
Hartford has increased largely in population during the last decade, and the numerous trolley lines that have been built, running like the spokes of a wheel into the surrounding country, have contributed much to the prosperity of the city. Many handsome residences have been built, new streets have been laid out, and our city appears to have entered upon a career that promises increased wealth and success.
NEW HAVEN
“THE CITY OF ELMS”
By FREDERICK HULL COGSWELL
THE main incidents in the history of New Haven have a flavor of romance. Even the original settlement, usually a prosy affair, was brought about by the chance letter of a victorious soldier. On the 26th of June, 1637, a company of wealthy English immigrants sailed into Boston harbor, undecided as to its final destination. It was led and directed by Reverend John Davenport, a Non-conformist clergyman of London, and Theophilus Eaton, a retired merchant of the same town, who had once represented the British crown at the court of Denmark. The company had thought to settle near Boston, but a theological controversy that threatened to envelop the whole jurisdiction led to a change of plan, and for several months the party remained at Boston in a state of indecision.
Meanwhile, the Pequod war was raging along the coast of Long Island Sound, and as the beaten braves were being driven westward toward the valley of the Hudson, their pursuers came upon a spot of surprising beauty. Its charms detained them long enough to note its details. There was a broad wooded plain skirted with green and fertile meadows, bounded on either side by a gently flowing river, and guarded on the north by giant cliffs. Here and there the smoke of Indian camp-fires curled gracefully above the tree-tops, and bark-canoes darted swiftly about in the placid waters of the bay. The place was occupied by friendly natives, anxious for protection against their tribal enemies. Game abounded in the forests; the streams were alive with fish; and the piles of oyster-shells along the shore told of bivalvian riches beneath the glistening waves. The English officers, elated with victory and delighted with the newly discovered land, wrote enthusiastic descriptions to their friends at Boston. As one with an eye to the material advantages expressed it: “It hath a fair river, fit for harboring of ships, and abounds with rich and goodly meadows.”
The immigrants at once determined to investigate, and Eaton, taking a small vessel, sailed down the coast and into the harbor of Quinnipiac. He and his companions lost no time in deciding as to their future home. He left seven men to spend the winter with the Indians, and returned to Boston. Those who remained lived in a hut near the shore, and before spring came, one of them died. His name was Beecher, and he has been claimed as the ancestor of the Beecher family in this country. His wife and children came with the main party when the cold weather had passed. A few rods to the west of this first hut stood, in after years, the forge of Lyman Beecher’s father.
It is uncertain just what name the Indians applied to the town. The early spelling varied so much that nearly forty different combinations of letters have come down to us, as representing it. It is apparent that the settlers were unable to acquire the aboriginal pronunciation, or to correctly express it in English. They finally adopted “Quinnipiac” as being more euphonious than “Quilillioak” “Quillipiage” and “Queenapiok.”
It was with feelings not easily described that the newcomers sailed into the harbor and looked upon their future home. There they were to spend the rest of their lives, there they would be laid to rest when their earthly labors were done, and there would dwell their posterity, to represent the principles for which they had sought a new world. In the land of their birth they could not worship as they chose. Unless they followed the rule set down by others, they were not only called heretics and emissaries of the devil, but were imprisoned and fined, and subjected to great personal indignity. They felt that they were being deprived of a natural right, and despairing of better times at home, came to find a place where they could enjoy uninterrupted the free exercise of conscience.
They were obliged for a time to live on the boat in which the voyage had been made. The first Sunday morning all came ashore to worship under the branches of an oak-tree which stood on the bank of a small stream that emptied into the bay. It was in the month of April, 1638, and the leaves were not far forth, but under that canopy the first sermon ever heard in that region was preached. This famous tree stood for more than a hundred years after, and when it fell a tablet was placed on a near-by building to show succeeding generations where the forefathers first met for public worship.
A compact was made with the Indians, and the town was laid out by John Brockett, a civil engineer, whose love of a Puritan maiden had led him to abandon brilliant prospects of preferment and cross the seas. First, a large tract was apportioned for a market-place, then the streets were plotted in regular squares surrounding it. The dwellings ranged from mere huts to mansions of grand proportions. Eaton’s house contained nineteen fireplaces, and was one of the few houses in the country where sufficient books were found to form a library.
Romance soon gave place to tragedy. An Englishman was found murdered in the neighboring woods, and an Indian so near as to invite suspicion. He was arrested and brought to the market-place. No laws had been framed, but an agreement had been made soon after landing, that all disputes should be settled according to Scripture. An inquiry established the Indians guilt, but there was doubt as to the Scriptural text to apply. The Old Testament rule, “Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed,” made the outlook gloomy for the prisoner, while he saw hope in the more recent dispensation, “Go and sin no more.” The Puritan forefathers leaned to the conservative view of the case, laid the Indian over a log, chopped off his head, and “pitched it upon a pole in the market-place.”
The first public building to be erected, as might have been expected, was a meeting-house. This was built near the centre of the market-place, and the present edifice stands to-day on nearly the same spot. The meeting-house was not merely a place for public worship, but town-hall, voting-booth, court-room and forum as well. In summer it was a pleasant place in which to sit, with bird-songs and odor-laden breezes floating in through the open windows, and the long-drawn, monotonous drone of the parson’s voice lulling to dreamy drowsiness. But in winter, with the mercury twenty degrees below zero; with tingling ears and aching nose; with shivering frames and feet like cakes of ice, and every man’s breath showing white on the frosty air, hell-fire seemed less terrible than the preacher would have it appear.
There were means, however, of getting periodically thawed. Those who lived in town could repair to their homes at the intermission, while the farmers sought their “sabbada-housen” (Sabbath-day houses). These were small huts, each containing a chimney and rude fireplace, and were grouped irregularly about the meeting-house. Here the stiffened limbs were rubbed and toasted, and the creature comforts of pies and cakes and home-brewed ale were enjoyed. Stern times were those, and many a mother saw her tender child laid away in the little burying-ground, chilled to death by the bitter cold of the meeting-house.
While the hearts of these early Puritans beat warmly, their rigid views of life and duty sometimes led to acts of great severity. Public whipping was resorted to, not only as a punishment supposed to be fit for the culprit, but as a warning and a deterrent. It is hard to imagine a father handing a child over to the courts for public humiliation, yet Richard Malbon, a magistrate, sat at the trial of his daughter Martha, and condemned her to be flogged at the whipping-post. The shameful performance took place on the northwest corner of the market-place, close by the schoolhouse, so that the youthful mind need not fail to understand that the way of the transgressor was hard.
The “Witch Trial” created some excitement in the early days. Elizabeth Godman was the town scold, and kept her neighbors in a state of perpetual worry. Her chief delight was in creating and perpetuating feuds. She had been warned by the magistrates that her way of life was objectionable and might lead to trouble. One day, in spite of the judicial warning, she called at Mistress Hooke’s and asked for home-brewed beer. A mug was given her, but she used only part of it. The next day the whole barrel of “beare” was found to be sour. Here were symptoms of witchcraft! Soon after one of Goody Thorpe’s chickens died, and when they opened it they found its gizzard full of water and worms! Suspicion began to turn to certainty. This led to a quarrel between Elizabeth Godman and Mistress Bishop, and in consequence the latter’s baby was born dead. To cap the climax, Mr. Nash’s boy had a fit of sickness that puzzled the doctors, and it was thought best, in order to prevent further calamities, to have Elizabeth Godman arrested and tried as a witch. In good old Salem her chances of escape might have been narrow; but while her judges believed in witchcraft and were ready to punish it by death, she was triumphantly acquitted, and wagged her spiteful tongue unmolested the rest of her life.
The most dramatic event in the early history of the colony was the coming of the regicides. Major-Generals Edward Whalley and William Goffe, distinguished leaders in the parliamentary army, had sat on the commission that had condemned Charles I. to the block. Both men stood close to Cromwell during the period of the protectorate, Whalley being Cromwell’s cousin, and Goffe a son-in-law of Whalley. Both acted as shire governors and were close personal advisers of the Lord Protector. At Cromwell’s death Goffe was considered a probable successor, but the monarchy was restored in the person of Charles II., and all who had been connected with the trial and execution of the late king were obliged to flee for their lives. Whalley and Goffe sailed for Boston and for a time lived there openly, but a royal warrant for their arrest finally came, and Governor Endicott issued orders for their apprehension. The only men in the country to whom they could look for protection were Mr. Davenport, a known sympathizer and a friend of Cromwell, and William Jones, whose father had been taken as a regicide and executed in London. The hunted men accordingly started for New Haven on horseback, arriving on the 7th of March, 1661. They went to the house of Mr. Davenport and for the next three weeks were concealed there, or across the street by William Jones. On the 27th, the news of a proclamation for their arrest reached New Haven, and the two generals proposed some military tactics to throw possible pursuers off the scent. They accordingly appeared upon the street the next morning as travellers just arrived from the north, let their identity be known, made various inquiries concerning the town, and asked the way to Manhattan. They departed to the southward and disappeared; but on arriving at Milford, ten miles below, they entered the woods and returned quietly to the house of Mr. Davenport. Two weeks later, Kellond and Kirke, two officers commissioned by Governor Endicott, arrived with a warrant and called upon Deputy-Governor Leete at Guilford. There were several men in the Governor’s office when the officers presented their credentials. The Governor took the papers and began to read aloud, letting out the whole secret, as he doubtless intended, so that the generals might receive warning and escape. The officers soon found that both the magistrates and the people were inclined to shield the regicides, but made desperate efforts to effect a capture. The fugitives, however, assisted by Davenport, Jones and others, eluded them at every point. Finally, after exhausting their patience and ingenuity, the officers gave up the chase and returned to Massachusetts; but offered large rewards for the apprehension of the regicides. These rewards stimulated the ambition of certain persons, and it was even more dangerous for the hunted men to appear in public, or to let their hiding-place be known. Those who were befriending them were in equal danger; for by aiding and comforting “traitors” they were liable to arrest and execution for the crime of high treason.
The regicides remained in the colony about two years, hiding in the houses of their friends; in an old mill just outside the boundaries of the town; in a cave on the side of West Rock; in a pile of rocks on the top; in a Milford cellar; and other places of more or less doubtful identity. The best known of these places is the pile of boulders on the extreme top of West Rock known as “Judges Cave.” It is visited every year by thousands of people, who regard it as a connecting link between New Haven and the great tragedy of English history.
About the year 1670 a mysterious gentleman about sixty years old, calling himself “James Davids,” came to New Haven with the evident intention of spending the rest of his days in the town. He appeared to be wealthy, but no one knew anything of his past. He claimed to be a retired merchant. It is said that one Sunday while Sir Edmund Andros was attending church on the Green, he noticed a tall, soldierly-looking man in a neighboring pew, and inquired who he was. “He is a merchant residing here,” was the reply. “I know he is not a merchant,” said Sir Edmund; “he has filled a more responsible position than that!” Governor Andros had not time to follow up his suspicions, but after the mysterious stranger’s death, twenty years later, it came to be known that he was Colonel John Dixwell, another regicide, who had fled from England to escape execution. A century and a half afterwards, his descendants erected a monument to his memory behind Center Church on the Green, where it is still an object of interest to visitors.
New Haven received her baptism of fire during the Revolution in the form of an invasion by a detachment of the British army, July 5, 1779. The apparent purpose of this act was to cause Washington to weaken his force at West Point in order to defend the Connecticut coast. Washington attacked Stony Point as a counter-irritant, but this did not affect the British until after they were through with New Haven, which was then a village of about eighteen hundred inhabitants. The evening previous (Sunday), arrangements had been made for a celebration of the third anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, but at ten o’clock the town was startled by the boom of a signal-gun in the harbor. All was confusion during the night, and about five o’clock Monday morning President Stiles, from the steeple of the college chapel, saw, by the aid of a spy-glass, the British fleet embarking at West Haven. A company of students formed and marched to hinder the invaders, while the beacon-fires that had been lighted during the night on the neighboring hilltops brought bodies of armed patriots from the surrounding towns. In spite of determined opposition, the enemy, led by General Garth, entered the town at noon and proceeded to plunder and destroy. A pitched battle was fought on the northwest corner of Broadway, but the defenders were overpowered by superior numbers. The intention of the enemy was to burn the town, but it was found that this could not be done without endangering the property of the numerous Tories. An equal number of troops (1500) landed at Lighthouse Point and approached the town from the east, the intention being to crush all opposition by a junction of the two armies, while Sir George Collier was to bombard the town from his war-ships in the harbor. It having been decided not to apply the torch, those who had entered from the west slept on the Green during the night, and toward morning embarked on the boats at the wharf, after burning much shipping. The eastern division, under General Tryon, captured Rock Fort (afterwards named Fort Hale), but were unable to enter the town. The next day they found the patriots collecting in such numbers that they decided to withdraw and bestow their attentions upon the little town of Fairfield, which they burned.
A house still standing on the north side of the Green was used by the British as a hospital. Under a tree in front, Whitefield once preached to the multitude, and Jonathan Edwards used to court the daughter of the house.
Colonel Aaron Burr, then twenty-three years old, took an active part in defending the town.
Out on the Allingtown heights, to the southwest of the town, stands a monument to the memory of Adjutant-General Campbell of the British army. This officer showed such a noble spirit of humanity in the discharge of a disagreeable duty, protecting the helpless and preventing needless destruction, that the citizens of New Haven erected this stone to perpetuate his virtues. While on an errand of mercy he was shot by a young man, and on his monument are inscribed the words:
“Blessed are the Merciful.”
The Dark Day, immortalized by Whittier, was the 19th of May, 1780. The Legislature was in session in the old State House on the Green when a sudden darkness fell. Many believed the Judgment Day was at hand. In the midst of the excitement a motion was made to adjourn, when Colonel Abraham Davenport, great-grandson of John Davenport, rose and said: “I am against an adjournment. The Day of Judgment is either approaching, or it is not. If it is not, there is no cause for adjournment; if it is, I choose to be found doing my duty. I wish, therefore, that the candles may be brought, and we proceed to business.”
“And there he stands in memory this day,
Erect, self-poised, a rugged face, half seen
Against the background of unnatural dark,
A witness to the ages as they pass,
That simple duty hath no place for fear.”
The foundation of Yale, the “Mother of Colleges,” dates back to the colonial period, and was due to the foresight of John Davenport. Within ten years of the settlement of the town, a parcel of land was set aside and known as “college land,” and as early as 1654 the records of the General Court show “that there was some notion againe on foote concerning the setting vp of a Colledg here at Newhaven, Wch, if attayned, will in all likely-hood prove verey beneficiall to this place.” In spite of Davenport’s efforts, the project was not carried out during his lifetime, but in 1664, the Hopkins Grammar School, named in honor of Governor Hopkins, was organized as a collegiate school. The work of this school being chiefly of a preparatory nature, ten Congregational ministers organized a society for
the conducting of a college, and, in 1700, this was chartered as “A Collegiate School in his Majesty’s Colony of Connecticut.” The first rector, or president, was Reverend Abraham Pierson of Killingworth, and the first student was Jacob Hemingway. For a time the college was settled at Saybrook, but in 1716 it was removed to New Haven. Two years later the name Yale College was adopted in honor of Elihu Yale, at that time its largest benefactor.
The college library had a unique origin. In 1700, the ten ministers forming the society met at Branford, and each donated a few volumes, saying as he laid them down: “I give these books for the founding of a college in this colony.” Forty books were given, forming the nucleus of the great University Library.
The first public commencement occurred in 1718, the first building having been erected the year previous. For nearly a century and a half the college had to endure a hard struggle for existence, but at the present day, owing to the donations of its graduates and friends, it ranks as one of the richest colleges in the country, and possesses some of the finest and best-equipped buildings in the world. Vanderbilt Hall, given by Cornelius Vanderbilt; Phelps Hall, in honor of William Walter Phelps; and Osborn Hall, in memory of Charles J. Osborn, are notable illustrations of combined utility and art. Vanderbilt Hall is not only the costliest but the most complete college dormitory in America.