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\nThe Battenkill by Whipple\u2019s Dam, Greenwich, New York. Saturday August 12, 2017. <\/p>\n
\nThe Battenkill by Whipple\u2019s Dam, Greenwich, New York. Saturday August 12, 2017. <\/p>\n
One of the more celebrated tributaries of the freshwater section of the Hudson is the Battenkill River. Springing forth in verdant bottomlands northeast of East Dorset, the brook flows through a series of ponds until it becomes a viable creek outside of Manchester, Vermont. Below Shushan the river flows north beneath the covered-bridge at Rexleigh. Turning westward again it passes East Greenwich, Battenville\u2014notable as one of the childhood homes of women\u2019s rights activist Susan B. Anthony. The river had been harnessed for hydropower industries downstream at Center Falls and Greenwich (pronounced green-witch by the locals). The Battenkill finally meets the Hudson above Schuylerville, formerly Saratoga\u2014the site of Burgoyne\u2019s surrender in October 1777. The Battenkill by Whipple\u2019s Dam, Greenwich, New York. Saturday August 12, 2017. One of the more celebrated tributaries of the freshwater section of the Hudson is the Battenkill River. Springing forth in verdant bottomlands northeast of East Dorset, the brook flows through a series of ponds until it becomes a viable creek outside of Manchester, … Continue reading SKETCHBOOK TRAVELER: JUNE 29, 2020. Dispatch # 72. The Battenkill at Whipple’s Dam.<\/span>
\nFlowing southward past the foot of Mount Equinox, the Battenkill courses through the village of Arlington, where it bends to the west. Passing a winding gap, it enters the Hudson valley. Known to indigenous tribes as Ondawa, or Dionoondehowee\u2014she who opens the door.
\nAn alternate etymology is that Batten-kill is a variation of Bart\u2019s-kill, named after colonial settler Bartholomew Pietersen van Hogeboom (1640-1702). Kill<\/em> is the Dutch word for creek.
\nYet another explanation claims the river is named after one of its feeder-streams that springs from a den of airborne rodents. The name of the local indigenous Horicon tribe of the Mahican\/northern Lenape nation means clear water. It is also one of the Amerindian names for Lake George. Stretches of the river are reserved for fly-fishing.
\nNearly forty years ago the author James Howard Kunstler and I drove out to Eagle Bridge, close to the Vermont border. Unfolding my easel along the bank, I laid out my palette and a fresh canvas, as Jimmy pulled on his hip-waders and ventured into the river. The day was warm. A steady breeze brushed the surface of the dark glittering water. Leaf-laden trees lined the banks. Whispering foliage, rushing water, occasional birdsong and a chorus of insects had a hypnotic effect. Jimmy moved from one point to another, in search of a position from which to introduce a feathery barb to a hungry trout. Breaking this reverie was a sudden commotion, as Jimmy loudly berated some poor rustic for dipping a baited hook in the stream. Perhaps it was a spinner. All but flies were verboten on this trophy-run of the fabled Battenkill. Waving his fly-rod like the fiery sword of Jophiel, Jimmy drove the chastened meat-slinger from the Edenic riverbank.
\nWe often painted together. On several occasions, one of my studio-assistants posed nude in the river. The Battenkill turns sharply to the north below Shushan, trapping sediment in the bend to form a small island and sandbar, made to order for us as a model\u2019s-stand. One hot summer day while we worked in this manner, we heard loud voices. A regatta of inner-tubes appeared upstream. Passing our tableau, the raucous teens fell silent. The sight of two painters and a naked athletic woman seemed to befuddle, even intimidate them. Once downstream and out of sight, their noisy banter resumed. <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.mcelhinneyart.com\/jlmcelhinney\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/06\/Rexleigh_Bridge-May-30_2015-1-scaled.jpg\")
\nRuined Mill below Rexleigh Bridge. August 12, 2017<\/p>\n
\nIn 1803 Job Whipple dammed the Battenkill. His cotton mill attracted workers who settled near the mill in Whipple City. In 1809, an independent community named Union City was organized.
\nDespite the local economy\u2019s dependence on southern cotton, a number of safe houses conducted runaway slaves to freedom on the Underground Railroad. Recent archaeological excavations uncovered evidence of four thousand years of human habitation. In 1867 the village was renamed Greenwich. Many of the mills have shot down. Recent times have seen an influx of artists, writers and musicians to nearby communities like Cambridge and Salem. Greenwich is the model for the fictitious village of Union Grove in Jim Kunstler\u2019s dystopian World Made by Hand novels.
\nOn Saturday August 12, 2017, Kunstler and I set up to paint beside the old Whipple dam.
\nAs in his writings, Jim\u2019s paintings embrace an anti-picturesque esthetic. We had painted before at Clark\u2019s Mill, along the Champlain Canal, the mill-ruins at Rexleigh Bridge and various and sundry rural strip-malls. We chose positions close enough for hallooing comments at one another. Cursing his French easel, Jimmy badgered me about working on such a small scale. I gave him hell about dragging around so much baggage. Everything I needed was carried in the pockets of my travel-vest, with the exception of my walking-stick, tripod camp-stool and M1858 U.S. Army pattern canteen. Teens in various modes of bathing attire walked past en-route to some swimming-hole below the dam. The trunk of a large tree had caught on the edge of the dam, its tanged roots reaching for the bank. Another mill-race was in use across the river, feeding power to a small hydroelectric facility. Fifty feet upstream form the dam, a row of swimming-lane buoys was strung across the river, presumably as a warning to kayakers and canoeists. Racing over the dam, sheets of water churned into foam on the rocky shelf below. Scrubby trees cling to the rocky outcrop that marks the transition between the industrial landscape and flat water downstream. The writings of J.B. Jackson remind us that as relics of human endeavor; ruins attest to the impermanence of all such works. Attempts to preserve or restore these sites shape history according to how society wishes to celebrate it. The opposite is expressed by the present outbreak of iconoclasm; objections to the received wisdom as symbolized by public monuments.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"