shoebox archives
Bridge Week, 1908
FROM The
Three Great Days

PG 270, The Greater
Hartford Picture Book Collection, compiled by Wilson H. Faude
and donated to the State Archives, Connecticut State Library
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The
warm misty sunlight of a midmorning in early October filtered down
through a lofty canopy of elms and willows over a wide area of mud
and trampled grass-grass trampled by the feet of nearly two hundred
milling people: men, women and children in a variety of 17th-century
costume. Nearby were huddled several horses, cows, grunting pigs,
goats, and a small flock of sheep. Noise, excitement, and confusion
prevailed. The talk of adults was overlaid by the shouts of children
and by the bleating of sheep and goats, the grunting of pigs, the
lowing of a cow, or the whinney of a frightened horse. It was Tuesday,
October 6, 1908, and the scene was the bank of the Connecticut River
at East Hartford almost opposite the foot of Hartford's Talcott
Street. The occasion was the re-enaction [sic] of the arrival of
Thomas Hooker at the culmination of his overland trek from Cambridge
to Hartford in 1636, and was one of the opening events in what was
to be the most ambitious, elaborate, and incredible celebration
which Hartford had ever known, or has known since, or is likely
to know again. Three days had been set apart to celebrate the dedication
of the new stone bridge across the Connecticut River, to be known
as Bulkeley Bridge in honor of the Bridge Commission's chairman
and Connecticut's senior senator, Morgan G. Bulkeley. It seemed
fitting that reenactment of Hooker's arrival should take place on
the opening day.
Drawn up on the East Hartford bank were three or four large platform
rafts specially built for the occasion. As the hour of noon approached
under Walter Schutz's guidance and encouragement the entire company
was shepherded on board two rafts and paddled by a number of young
men. With long sweeps the rafts were slowly propelled across the
river to the Hartford shore. The animals presented more difficult
problems but with the efforts of obviously experienced men the horses,
cows, pigs, goats, and sheep were herded aboard and the animal rafts
reached the other bank safely.
| This passage has been excerpted from
a paper delivered by Francis Goodwin II (1895-1976) before the
Monday Evening Club of Hartford in October 1967. Founded in
1869 as a men's literary group, members of the Monday Evening
Club of Hartford have included Horace Bushnell, Hartford Courant
editor Charles Dudley Warner, and Samuel Clemens. The Club is
still in existence; its archives, including correspondence,
membership lists, and presented papers are available at the
Watkinson Library of Trinity College. This piece is published
with the permission of Jane Fenwick Goodwin, the author's daughter. |
As the rafts approached the Hartford shore they were met and greeted
by a crowd of half-naked, painted Indians paddling canoes, several
of which were the real birch bark variety. A noisy and hectic scene
on the riverbank ensued. Trinity students had been given the role
of welcomers to the Hooker party and a welcome it was indeed.
It must be remembered that most of the men, particularly the Indians,
had been well fortified by alcohol-in fact this general state applied
to most of the adult male population of Hartford over the next three
days.
Finally the animals were led away and the crowd gradually dispersed
to mingle with the vast throng of spectators, which filled the Hartford
shore and Connecticut Boulevard from State Street to Morgan Street
.
Somehow I became separated from my family and found to my horror
that I must walk home alone to Garden Street where we then lived.
All trolley service in downtown Hartford had been suspended after
10 a.m. each day of the celebration. Anyway, I had no money and
was dressed as a young Puritan with buckled knee breeches, little
black jacket with wide white collar, and a broad brimmed, high-pointed
hat. I shall never forget the pain and embarrassment of that walk
from the East Side to Main Street, followed by a crowd of jeering
urchins, down Asylum Street and up Asylum Hill to Garden Street.
The landing of Thomas Hooker, however, was but the merest curtain
raiser to the next three days of celebration. No one who was not
present or does not remember "Bridge Week," as it was
called, can possibly imagine the extent of this celebration, the
enormous number of people involved, nor, as I look back on it, what
[must] have been almost insurmountable problems of planning and
organization.
It was an incredible undertaking. Hartford's
population at the time was barely 100,000 and the satellite towns
had mere fractions of their present numbers. Yet during these three
days-October 6, 7, and 8-Hartford was host to more than 200,000
visitors coming not only from Connecticut, but from many other parts
of the country.
My father had four seats on the grandstand for the entire three
days. How we all endured the strain of those days of excitement,
endless parades, and crowds I cannot imagine but we did not miss
a single event.
Hartford had never seen such a great and glorious
party. Yet there was no real disorder and few casualties or accidents;
everyone seemed in a state of happy camaraderie.
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