About Connections: Love it or hate it, history is a map. Those who hate history think it irrelevant; many who love history think it escapism. In truth, history is the clearest road map to how we got here: America in the 21st century.
They say there is nothing new under the sun…
In the early 1930s, in Peru, Massachusetts, there was a hotly contested warrant article. Today, the population of Peru is between 800–900, but back then there were 108 residents. Not all of them were old enough to vote. With so small a voting population, it was easy to count votes. Those on one side of the issue counted and realized they were going to lose, but not by much.
“All we gotta do is rid out a few of them,” one enthusiast suggested.
“Rid out? What are you talking about, murder?”
“Naw. We don’t got to murder ‘em; just prove that they ain’t legal voters. Ain’t registered fair and square. Don’t let ‘em vote, or let ‘em vote and then throw their ballots out afterward as not legal.”
“Well, I’ll do anything short of murder.” And so they did.
The plot was a reflection of a village divided. For the first 30 years of the 19th century, Peru had two sides on every issue. One side was led by Mayor Frank G. Creamer and on the other by James Bolger. On exactly what issues they were opposed, and who won on each or any issue, is lost in time. Later, when Creamer left town for the big city of Pittsfield, tensions eased.
However, circa 1936, the plotters executed their plan. They disenfranchised 6 voters — enough to swing the vote. It was not without unintended consequences. The opposition thought turnabout was fair play. Soon, half the voting population was in court fighting challenges to their right to vote brought by the other half. They based the challenges on residency. Eventually, the court threw them all out, but not before it was found that one man did not legally own his house. Rendered homeless, he left town. That swung the vote — the other way.
Today, the Republicans have counted votes and, in states where they fear they will lose, have instituted voter suppression laws. We know what they intend. Just as in Peru 85 years ago, they intend to win. What might be the unintended consequences?
Sometimes called the village “in the hills behind the hills,” Peru was settled in 1767. The uphill climb to establish the “hill town” or “village in the clouds” was urged on by fear of fever. There was a superstition that valleys were fever-ridden, and mountain air was “cleaner.”
They settled and built a town hall where the “sides” sat apart on either side of the single aisle (hence the reason for calling them the sides). The had a little schoolhouse that was white, not red. It was one-room with desks, pegs for coats, and a wood pile for what little warmth they could generate throughout most of the school year. They built the Congregational Meeting House which remained the only religious structure in town.
When they were finally incorporated, in 1771, the village was called Partridgefield after the original landowner Oliver Partridge. One of the first settlers was a shoemaker named Charles Ford. He and his party — a horse and cart, a yoke of steers, two cows, and one hog — walked from New London, Connecticut. The story goes that the hog became foot sore and refused to continue. The shoemaker made the animal boots and the “hog-in-boots” entered Partridgefield to much wonder.
The village was renamed Peru in 1806. While a reason is given, few understand it. “Like Peru in South America, we are in the mountains, and while there is no gold and silver under the rocks, our town favors hard money and starts with a P.” There you have it. Where was the opposition, the other side, when needed?
This village is the highest in Massachusetts at 2,295 feet. Farms are scattered around the town center, signaling that Peru was always primarily agricultural. There were also a limestone quarry, sawmills, and a cheese factory. All together, never quite enough to support the town. Townsfolk went to Dalton and Pittsfield to work.
One structure that should be mentioned was Mayor Creamer’s general store. It took pride of place in town center. It was a place of warmth, with a big pot-belied stove; a place to get supplies; a place to hash it out, whatever “it” was; and probably the source of Creamer’s political power.
Creamer boasted he could supply anyone in town with anything they requested at a moment’s notice. One man, probably on the other side, weary of the boasting Creamer, requested false teeth and a casket. They were supplied in minutes. The man stomped out without purchasing.
When Creamer left town, the store closed. The tension between the sides softened, no one challenged anyone else’s right to vote, but folks went to Pittsfield and Dalton to shop. It was a pulling away from the center of Peru.
