[Enter Post Title Here]

Old Deerfield Massachusetts

   When Kim first suggested going to Deerfield to go to Yankee Candle shop. I wondered to myself, what else does this town have to offer? So I looked it up on the web.

    I was soon fascinated by the town’s history. The account of a tragedy, that happened to the town’s people that lived there. The land was annexed off by Boston to town’s people of Dedham after a court case. Deerfield was first settled in 1673 by European colonist, the town was incorporated in 1677.

      Native Americans named Pocumtucks settled the area long ago and after a war with the Mohawk Indians most of the town was abandoned.

      During the King Philips War Indians attack the English settlement and the town was abandoned by the Europeans for a while, buy 1704 though the settles that returned had built a town of about 260 residents. Through the summer of 1703 the towns people were on alert from the governor of New York that a French and Indian army was on their way to attack the settlement. Summer turned into autumn and through all the anxiety they were feeling there was no attack. The town’s people decided that they would build a fortification and wait out the winter in there. They thought they would be safe for the winter because war usually did not break out in the freezing conditions of winter.

       On a cold leap year February 29^th 1704 and a sleeping watchmen Deerfield was attacked. 200 to 300 Indian and French forces, that traveled 300 miles through wilderness, was not about to let winter stop them now. The force spotted the town about 2 miles away as they crested a hill near a snow covered field. They decided they would wait till early morning to attack. Just before light, they began their descent on the sleeping village. The snow about 2 feet deep it muffled their march as they crept up on the fenced barricades that surrounded the town. The snow had fallen many times that winter and it piled up all around the stockade fence that surrounded the town.  A sleeping guard allowed the forces to simply leap over the obstacle. They then broke up into groups of three and four made their way to attack the sleeping town’s people in their home as they slept. All hell broke out and screaming women and crying children were dragged out of their homes.     

      After rounding all the residents up into the center of town, the Indians began burning the homes, running up and down the street throwing torches on them, not many house would survive. Herding the towns people like cattle they made their way out of the town rushing them along in the knee high snow. Pushing the women along, the children to young to make it through the snow were lifted up by the Indians and carried though the field to the mountains that lay ahead. Arriving at the mountains they were forced to run up the steep pass as they crested the hill everyone including the Indians and French soldiers were out of breath. There they rested for awhile and the Indians handed out moccasins to everyone and made them put them on. Now the town’s people realized they were being held captive and would be forced to travel far from their homes. Someone that spoke French asked what was going to be done by them, and the French soldier answered that they were going to be taken to Montreal, a 300 mile march through the winter covered wilderness. Women sobbed and the men feared for them and their children as the news was passed on to the other captives.

     After awhile the captives were force to traverse the snow covered mountains and valleys, being rushed along by the Indians they covered 20 miles that first day. As night neared they captivators made camp for the night and the captives were given dried bread to eat for the night. When dawn broke the French notice on of the males captives had escaped and the villagers were told if anyone else escaped people would die.

      After the angry speech by the French officer the captives were rounded up and forced to march on. They all soon came to a rushing river which the captives were forced to cross, the children and women were having difficulties with this and one woman fell into the freezing water turning head over heels into the rushing current. An Indian chased after her and clubs her in the head. She died and was one of the first casualties of the abduction. She would later be found and is buried in Deerfield.

      There were many deaths during the long march to Montreal and soon after reaching French territory the villagers were broken up. Many Indians had kept them. It took many years to get them back to Massachusetts and some elected to stay in Montreal and surrounding towns.

    The ones that made it back rebuild their lives in Deerfield. The ones that did decided they would not forget what had happened to them and that is part of the reason that Old Deerfield is what it is today.

Old Deerfield

  When we first exited Yankee Candle shop, Dave was underside in which direction to take. I suggested we go left, only because it made the most sense, but of course we went straight across the highway and made are way unknowingly to S. Deerfield center. We entered a circular center of town and took a left heading down some path of the unknown and came upon Bloody Brook, the site of the first massacre of Deerfield.

That’s another historical event in the town’s history that we will investigate on another trip. Driving down the road in the Galaxy 500 we search for more history and the famous town. We realized without saying that I must have been right. We turned around to find our way to our desired destination. I spotted a beautiful farm house on the way back and Dave stopped so I could get pictures of it.

More of the Farmhouse

    Driving along we met a town resident who looked like he had a few too many drinks the night before. Of course Dave stopped and asked him directions. “Can you point us in the right direction to Deerfield?” Dave asked actually believing he would get the right answer. The guy looking like he didn’t even know that he was pointed right and told us he thought it was up the street to the left. Dave told him thanks anyway and we all voted this guy didn’t have a clue on where he was and made a joke of it. We decide to go back the way we came and turned right onto 91. Just what I had suggested to begin with and low and behold a sight from heaven was just in front of us!

As we drove down the road, we noticed something peculiar out in the tail end of western Massachusetts what did we see, a light house!

You never know what you’re going to see on our trips. That’s Dave driving one hand on the wheel at all times.

Finally arriving at our destination we parked the yacht on the side of the road. We pilled out of the car, and made our way to who knows where, at this point just getting here was a blessing.

First home we see was right where we parked the car, a stone marked a location of a home that once stood there.

A Captain Jonathan Wells? We don’t have a clue.

Any way we move along, peering around the scene of the 18^th century street reminded me of my youth when leaves from autumn were left out in the street until they had all fallen, after which they were raked up into piles along the gutter of the road and set to blaze. The aroma of burning leaves entered my mind. The experience was very pleasing and heartwarming.

    An event was going on in town and children walked the streets with their parents, they were all dressed for Halloween it was very cute.

      We made our way up the road and along the way we decide that the winter chill was getting the better of us and looked for a place to warm up and investigate the history of this town.

    Just in front of us, looked like a good place to go. We passed a church filled with visitors and the old town hall.

 Picture online source:

  A grand building came into view, it was Memorial Hall. We entered and made jokes with the curator. Paid the six bucks and made our way through three hundred years of history. If you go it’s a must to see this place. Inside they have the famous hatchet door. Where Indians broke through the door with a hatchet it was pretty cool.

    Anyway we made our way back outside after we were finished with our class and the friendly happy curator was willing to tell us some history of the former girl boy school, showing us the old grinding mill and sharpening stone that were hiding behind his lovely flower garden. And of course a plaque tells us all about it.

     We walked back the way we came and as we neared the intersection of the road we heard the clip clapping of a horse drawn wagon, carrying tourist through the leaf littered streets of Deerfield. What a sight to see those mammoth work horses pulling their load of people by us. Although the group of people looked like they were all freezing in this brisk afternoon, they all seemed to enjoy the experience.

     After watching them go by we approached the Samuel Barnard home built in 1768.

   Just across the way First Deerfield Church.

Time for some posses by the great pumpkin.

And a few more including a clever squirrel.

           

 

Well that was a great day in Deerfield but our carriage awaits us and it is time to go. Maybe next time we can stay at the Deerfield Inn.