Highway. Obstacle. Resource. Sewer. Each of these terms has been used to describe the Connecticut River during the last century and a half. This, the primary topographical component of Connecticut’s physical landscape, has loomed large in the consciousness of the state, providing a frame of reference (“east of the river”, “lower valley”) that transcends mere geography. In linking the heart of Connecticut with the sea the river has served as conduit to the world beyond, bringing ideas as valuable as any 18th century cargo of West Indian molasses and rum. Likewise, the river has helped export more than foodstuffs and brownstone. From its mouth have come ideas as diverse as the efficacy of industrial mass production and the power of dedicated people in restoring and preserving the natural environment. As the setting for Billy Joel’s River of Dreams music video, we are reminded that Connecticut’s “main stream” remains an undeniable—and tangible--link in our collective experience.

A Flowing Highway

A virtual arm of the sea, the Connecticut River has enabled people to move, trade and communicate along its navigable length. Through the centuries, in watercraft ranging from wooden dugouts to steam tugs to jet skis, the river has filled a vital role in shaping the lives of those within its watery reach.

By the mid-19th century the river north of Hartford was navigable only by shallow draft vessels using the canal at Windsor Locks. The dimensions of the canal locks dictated the design of vessels sailing upstream, like the narrow stern wheel steamboat Charles H. Dexter, built at Suffield, near the Massachusetts border.

Sailing vessels, especially two- and three-masted schooners, were the nondescript “eighteen wheelers” of the 19th century, carrying bulk commodities as varied as southern pine, mid-Atlantic coal - even manure from the stables of New York City! The primary outbound cargo was by this time was Connecticut Valley brownstone, carried by schooners and barges to growing cities as far-flung as Portland, Maine and New Orleans.

Steam propulsion, first introduced in passenger vessels on the river in the 1810s, also aided sailing vessels. By the 1840s steam tugs began providing towing service to sailing vessels and, later, barges, greatly reducing the time needed to navigate the Connecticut’s twisting course.

Despite the existence of a fine railroad network and, later, the development of the automobile, steamboat service between Hartford and New York City continued well into the 20th century. When the Middletown and her running mate, Hartford, were retired in 1931 it marked the end of more than a century of steam passenger service on the Connecticut River.

A Water Barrier

Bisecting the state north to south, the river long presented an obstacle to east-west communication. Over the centuries a multitude of ferries and bridges have been utilized to breach this fluid barrier.

Connecticut River mariners had long fought against the construction of bridges, citing the potential for mishap. Their fears were realized in spectacular fashion the evening of March 29, 1876 when the luxurious passenger steamer City of Hartford missed the railroad bridge’s open draw span. The result of this miscalculation was that the ship’s bridge (pilot house) wore the railroad’s bridge!

The oldest continuously operating ferry crossing in the country remains that linking Rocky Hill and Glastonbury. By the late 19th century oar- and sail-powered craft had given way to a small steam-powered vessel designed for rapid loading and unloading.

The longest stone arch bridge in the world at the time of its construction, the Hartford (later renamed Bulkeley) Bridge linked Connecticut’s capitol city with towns east of the river. Thousands of tons of Connecticut granite were used in its construction.

The development of the automobile sparked efforts to improve Connecticut River crossings for the increasing amounts of east-west traffic. Since the river remained a busy commercial waterway bridges needed to be either tall enough to allow the passage of sailing vessels or, like the East Haddam Bridge, be equipped with a moveable draw or swing span. Visible at Goodspeed’s Landing on the east bank of the river is the world famous Goodspeed Opera House.

The high vertical clearance of this bridge linking Middletown and Portland reduced the potential for mishaps with vessels, as occurred in such spectacular fashion when the steamer City of Hartford neatly bisected the Air Line Railroad bridge one foggy evening in 1876. Recently refurbished, the Arrigoni Bridge continues to provide a crucial cross-river link for truckers and commuters alike.

A Natural Bounty

Geologic processes, in particular the effects of glaciers, have provided the Connecticut River Valley with rich farmland, mineral resources, and tributary streams supporting fishing and, later, industrial endeavors.

The river was a rich source of protein in the form of migratory fish like shade, alewives and, in earlier times, Atlantic salmon. This shore site, in view of the remains of the 17th century English earthen fort at Saybrook Point, includes net reels used by shad fishermen to dry their drift nets.

Connecticut settlers were quick to utilize the large deposits of fine-grained brownstone found at sites along the river. By the mid-19th century the stone had become fashionable among architects and builders, leading to a boom in quarrying from the Portland area north. Perhaps the largest quarry was this operation, which extracted and shipped thousands of tons each year.

The geologic underpinnings of the valley include deposits of both sedimentary rock like brownstone and volcanic rock such as granite. Granite from riverfront quarries like this was used in building construction as well in wharf and breakwater projects. A small railway and derrick facilitate loading of vessels.

The rich alluvial soil of the valley from Middletown north, coupled with a semi-tropical summertime microclimate, has allowed large-scale tobacco culture to thrive. Broadleaf tobacco, seen here, like the shade-grown Sumatra type grown under cheesecloth tenting, was destined for some of the world’s finest cigars.

In the 20th century large Connecticut Valley tobacco farms typically included dormitories for migrant workers, visible at bottom left in this aerial view of a farm in the East Windsor Hill section of South Windsor.

A Mind of Its Own

With a watershed comprising much of New England, the Connecticut has periodically challenged those who consider it “their” river. Inundated towns and fields—even changes in its own course—have characterized the river’s behavior through the centuries.

John Warner Barber’s sketch

Historian John Warner Barber’s sketch illustrated how radically the Connecticut River has changed its course over time. The solid line documents the river’s route just below Hartford in the 17th century, while the dashed line delineates the Connecticut’s path in 1836. The sharp turn in the earlier course formed what became Wethersfield Cove.

Seasonal flooding was a way of life on the Connecticut River, particularly in the broad terraced floodplain extending from central Massachusetts to Middletown. The appropriately named Water Street in the North Meadows provided entertainment for two boys in the small boat tied up to the picket fence!

The 500-year flood that devastated Vermont in November 1927 also dealt a blow to states downstream. Here high water inundates Portland’s industrial waterfront, wreaking havoc with a lumber company and coal yard sandwiched between the railroad and old highway bridges.

Rapid melting of the heavy snowpack in northern New England contributed to perhaps the worst flooding in the river’s recorded history. Dozens of square miles lay inundated as the river rose to unprecedented levels. Hartford was particularly hard hit, spurring the development of a protective dike system that ultimately cut the city off from its traditional riverfront orientation. The Colt complex visible at center helps orient viewers to this water world.

The great hurricane of September 1938 that so devastated the Connecticut shore with wind and waves carried its punch well inland. Severe flooding in the central valley once again brought the Connecticut River into streets, factories and businesses along its banks. Here laborers monitor the river’s rising crest along a sandbag dike hastily constructed near the Colt complex.

A Changing Face

The works of man have altered the appearance of the river and its valley at different times and places. Over time urban, industrial and residential development largely replaced traditional forest and agricultural activities, while in recent years the recreational potential of the river has been recognized.

Joseph Ropes

Joseph Ropes captured the changing face of the river in this drawing of Hartford’s Dutch Point area. The steam-powered saw mill, pictured at center, was supplied by rafts of timber floated downstream from Vermont and New Hampshire. Just visible in the right distance is part of the covered wooden bridge that linked Hartford with towns to the east from 1818 to 1895.

Industrial complexes began to line parts of the river in the 19th century. Waterpower, and later steam power, spurred industrial growth at many points along the Connecticut. This mill sits between the river in the distance and the canal built in the 1820s to allow shallow draft vessels to bypass a series of rapids.

In addition to recreational boating activities of all kinds, the Connecticut River Valley has provided plenty of sites for camping and other leisure pursuits. This early 20th century view of Camp Bethel in the Tylerville section of Haddam shows the tracks of the Valley Railroad, which provided vacationers access to many points along the river between Hartford and Old Saybrook.

Connecticut Yankee Nuclear Power Station

After