You want Indians? Here are Indians
enough for you!" And they brandished aloft the scalp-locks they
had taken. Mosley stationed his men under a shower of arrows,
and began the struggle with over a thousand savages. He was
beaten back, but was re-enforced by one hundred and sixty
Mohican and English troops, and beat the enemy back with great
loss."
The memorial association of Deerfield has erected a stone
monument, marking the spot where Eunice Williams, wife of
Reverend John Williams of Deerfield, was slain by her Indian
captor on the march to Canada after the sacking of the town,
February 29, 1704.
How often the meadows were damp with the blood of their victims!
How often the gold of the buttercups were stained ruby red! It
is impossible to dwell at length on scenes of such terrible
cruelty in a spot where all is so peaceful. We seemed to catch
the restful spirit of the place, and yielding to its soothing
influence, sauntered on into deeper solitudes where we viewed
nature in one of her wildest strongholds. Here ferns and mosses
grew in abundance.
What a place to commune with Nature! "Was ever temple
consecrated by man like this in beauty and filled with such holy
solemnity?"
These glorious hills seemed to be calling the dwellers of the
hot and dusty lowlands to come and enjoy their cool, leafy
retreats. The slopes were covered with large leaved maples;
pines that always towered so straight; and birch that grew in
clusters all along the highway. These comprised the foreground.
The middle of the picture was composed of many hills rising one
above the other in finely modeled forms with evergreen and
deciduous trees fitting so closely together they appeared as a
great, rich tapestry.
While in Massachusetts it is well worth while to go to the old
historical town of Springfield. As we viewed the old arsenal
located there, these significant lines from Longfellow's
"Arsenal at Springfield," kept singing themselves over in our
mind:
Is it, O man, with such discordant noises,
With such accursed instruments as these
Thou drownest Nature's kindly voices,
And jarrest the Celestial Harmonies?
Were half the power that fills the world with terror,
Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts,
Given to redeem the human mind from error,
There were no need of arsenals and forts.
Down the dark future, through long generations,
The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease;
And like a bell with solemn sweet vibrations,
I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace."
Peace no longer from its brazen portals
The blast of war's great organ shakes the skies!
But beautiful as songs of the immortals
The holy melodies of love arise.
The arsenal of Springfield was built in 1794. In 1846 it had a
storage capacity of five hundred thousand rifles. It is
earnestly to be hoped that the old arsenal's mission is over,
and that future generations will visit it only because our
illustrious Longfellow was inspired to write his poem about it.
