“New Knowledge of Lost Worlds”?

Renascence ◽  
2021 ◽  
Vol 73 (2) ◽  
pp. 81-100
Author(s):  
Geoffrey Reiter ◽  

In contemporary academic circles, the fields of science, theology, and literature may be compartmentalized with relatively little interaction. However, such distinctions were less rigid in the early nineteenth century. One of the figures whose writings stretched across these disciplinary boundaries was Edward Hitchcock, a world-renowned geologist and president of Amherst College who also had extensive theological training. Now best-known among paleontologists for his discovery of fossil footprints in the Connecticut River Valley, Hitchcock made use of his considerable talents in an 1836 poem entitled “The Sandstone Bird.” This poem—often known to historians of science but little remarked among students of American literature—effectively uses formal verse to draw out theological dimensions to the prehistoric world conjured up by Hitchcock’s own paleontological discoveries.

Author(s):  
John T. Cumbler

On Wednesday morning September 21, 1795, only a year after he was appointed president of Yale College, forty-four-year-old Timothy Dwight began the first of his thirteen excursions through New England and upstate New York. On six of his thirteen trips, he traveled through the Connecticut Valley, a valley he was familiar with since childhood and was linked to by both family and sentiment. The Connecticut River Valley was changing, as Dwight made his several trips through it. It was transformed under the impact of human activity. Increasingly, mill dams and factory villages were being built along the river and its tributaries. Technology, science, and the market were restructuring the way people were interacting with their environment. The land became less wild. That “civilizing” of nature, as Dwight called it, began first on the alluvial soils of the lower and central valley in the eighteenth century and then spread north and up into the hill country in the early years of the nineteenth century. By the end of the fifth decade of the nineteenth century, this new world had pretty much taken shape, and valley residents began to take stock of the changes that had occurred. Dwight began this process of accounting at the beginning stages of that transformation. And it was in the Connecticut River Valley that the changes made the biggest impact on him. At the center of the Connecticut Valley runs New England’s largest waterway. The Connecticut River flows south some four hundred miles from a series of small lakes in the swampy district of northern New Hampshire on the Canadian border. It eventually spills into Long Island Sound at Saybrook, Connecticut. To the west and east of the river are mountain ranges, the Housatonic and Green Mountains to the west and the White Mountains to the east. In northern New Hampshire and Vermont, the river travels through a narrow and rough mountain valley. As the river moves south into central Vermont and New Hampshire, the valley widens, particularly on the river’s western shore, and is intersected with tributary rivers and valleys.


1946 ◽  
Vol 12 (1) ◽  
pp. 29-34 ◽  
Author(s):  
William S. Fowler

The aboriginal agriculturists discussed here lived in a somewhat secluded environment, the Connecticut River Valley from Bellows Falls to the Connecticut line. In this long-occupied territory, surrounded by high ridges of volcanic origin, heavily wooded, and watered by innumerable spring-fed streams, the cultural development of the inhabitants was apparently of a homogeneous nature. As late as 1636, when the English began to establish plantations throughout the valley, the natives were found united in a well-defined River Confederacy, with frequent intercourse maintained through river travel. While trade routes probably connected this section with many other parts of the country, cultural contacts had apparently persisted among the river tribes in spite of occasional raids of warlike groups from other regions.


Author(s):  
Lisa Brooks

This chapter presents a nuanced close reading of The Sovereignty and Goodness of God . . . A Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, framed within Indigenous geographies. Although Rowlandson conveyed a picture of a forbidding wilderness, she traveled through an intricately mapped network of Indigenous people and places, including the Nipmuc interior and the Connecticut River Valley. This chapter provides an alternative map and narrative of Rowlandson’s “removes” through Native towns and territories and elucidates the ways in which the stories of Weetamoo, James Printer, and Mary Rowlandson intertwined. Shortly after the raid on her town of Lancaster, Rowlandson was carried to the Nipmuc stronghold of Menimesit, where she encountered James and his extended family, and was given to Weetamoo, whom she followed deep into the interior of Nipmuc and Sokoki countries, as the saunkskwa sought protective sanctuaries for Native families who were evading colonial troops.


1981 ◽  
Vol 74 (1) ◽  
pp. 79-99
Author(s):  
John F. Jamieson

When Jonathan Edwards was installed as assistant to his grandfather Solomon Stoddard at Northampton in 1727, he not only assumed the major pastoral responsibility for the largest congregation in western Massachusetts, but he also became coadministrator of the “lax” mode of admission to the sacraments that had prevailed at Northampton and throughout the Connecticut River Valley for some thirty years. This system granted both baptism and communion to all persons of age who had historical knowledge of the gospel and were of a “non-scandalous” life, on the grounds that all divinely established ordinances were capable of “begetting” faith. Although Stoddard did not originate the “lax” system, the practice was generally referred to as “Stoddardeanism” because from the time of his celebrated dispute with Increase Mather in 1700 (the so-called “Stoddardean controversy”) Stoddard had been its most systematic, persistent, and influential proponent in New England.


2020 ◽  
Vol 26 (4) ◽  
pp. 557-579
Author(s):  
Robert C. Ford ◽  
Keenan D. Yoho

Purpose The purpose of this paper is to illustrate, through the example of the Springfield Armory and its role in the development of interchangeable parts, the critical role of government in establishing a cluster of organizations that evolved into an innovation ecosystem primarily located in the Connecticut River Valley in the 1800s. Using the Springfield Armory example, we use the related but largely unjoined concepts of ecosystem and networks to show that these organizational forms are effective in driving innovation. Design/methodology/approach The design uses an in-depth analysis of the role of the Springfield Armory to explicate the joining of network and ecosystem theory as an early example of the importance of governmental funding and support for innovation. Findings The development of interchangeable parts in the American arms industry in the 19th century transformed manufacturing worldwide. At the heart of this transformation was the network of arms makers that developed in the Connecticut River Valley as a direct result of US Government investment and support. This network of arms makers evolved into an ecosystem of mutually reinforcing relationships as machine tool manufacturers benefited from an environment of free-flowing intellectual property, information and growing governmental demand for arms. The Armory illustrates the government’s role in initiating and sustaining clusters of innovation that otherwise might not have developed as quickly. Originality/value Much of the research on the role of government in creating innovation ecosystems and organizational networks is based on modern organizations. This use of the Springfield Armory in the early 1800s broadens the knowledge on how innovation ecosystems in conjunction with networked organizations can be created by governments serving the public good.


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