"Charlemont has many places of historical interest. At the
western end of the village near the long bridge across the
Deerfield river is, the famous sycamore tree under which the
first settlers slept. Just back of it is the place where Charles
Dudley Warner lived, when he had the experiences related in
"Being a Boy." Back of the house on a hill is a monument marking
the resting place of Captain Rice and Phineas Arms, who were
shot by Indians in June, 1775. About two miles from the crossing
of the river on the Mohawk trail on a high ridge is a tall,
lonesome pine which marks the point where the aboriginal Mohawk
trail ascended the hills. The trail can be very clearly traced
at the present day from Cold river up the mountains and along
the ridge to the west for several miles." What a different scene
the road presents today when compared with that of two hundred
years ago!
What a charming location North Adams has in the hollow of the
hills! They seem to surround it on all sides like sentinels
watching over the birthplace of one of the world's great souls,
Susan B. Anthony.
A silvery brook comes stealing
From shadow of its trees
Where slender herbs of forest stoop
Before the entering breeze.
- Bryant.
The silvery stream seems to grow wider, dashing its mossy rocks
with foam, and swaying from side to side with its swift,
impetuous flow as it descends. Past leaning willows it goes;
past graceful elms and fragrant groups of gleaming birch;
whether fast or slow, morning or night, it fills all the
woodland with its liquid music. One turns again and again to
admire the white birch arranged in groups, each lovelier than
the one just beheld. It takes an artist's soul to really enjoy
these wonderful and harmonious scenes. We carried notebooks and
a camera, but used them slightly. Shall we ever forget the azure
sky, the gleaming yellow and white of the birch, the green
meadows, the silvery flashing of the happy streams, or the
bright green and blue of far lakes? No, they shall remain as
long as memories of beautiful things last.
What fine traveling companions these lovely New England brooks
make! What grace and freedom is theirs ! What songs of joy they
sing, telling of the grandeur of the hills through which they
flow! Gladly we followed their winding way, "asking for no
better friend or finer music." No wonder they are so cool and
refreshing, for in what crystal pure springs do they find their
source? Like well born children with a beautiful environment,
they bathe all the wood land flowers and trees with their
beneficent water until they leave a trail of richest verdure
from the mountain to the sea, where they mingle in the great
expanse of waters not to perish, but to be resurrected, into
glorious summer clouds, to carry life and health to the thirsty
plants of earth.
