USA > Massachusetts > Barnstable County > Falmouth > Falmouth on Cape Cod : picturesque, romantic, historic > Part 4
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mercy. Not one of that luckless crew escaped and, as long as they thought they could reach the other canoes, they continued to fire after them. They now with sad hearts had time to view their own situation. First bracing the yards and laying the ship's head off shore, they performed the melancholy task of collecting the dead bodies of their slaughtered shipmates. They placed the five bodies side by side, and over them threw the flag of their country. Thirteen dead Indians were passed overboard. Five were found badly wounded. They bound up their wounds, but the savages in- stantly tore off the bandages.
The crew then hauled up the FALMOUTH HOUSE Located on the main street, the Falmouth House offers accommodation to travellers the year round. canoe which had been stoven. The carpenter nailed on some pieces of boards so it would float. In this the wounded Indians were placed and they were cut adrift, the crew knowing they would be picked up by their countrymen. Meantime, the mate had been busy tending the wounded.
On the day after one of the wounded men died from loss of blood, and all suffered intensely from the total want of surgical aid. After a long and tedious passage, they arrived at this place on the 28th of December. The wounded are now fast recovering. I believe the ship is going directly home from this place.
At the time this incident took place Silas Jones was but nineteen years old; yet even in the boy one may see the metal which, tempered by years of life at sea, composed the character of the man who became president of the Falmouth Bank and one of the most respected of Falmouth's townsmen. In later years it was said of him that he had the figure and manner of an English squire, always with a cane and, on formal occasions, a top hat. When at sea he strictly observed the proprieties, for his crew was made up largely of his neighbors' boys; and Sunday was religiously observed, the Captain appearing on deck with his beaver and cane when the weather permitted. The story goes that on one occasion he had put off with a boat after a whale, and that in their maneuvring for a strike a flop of the whale's tail filled the boat with water. As the bailing process was slow, he donated his favorite headpiece to expedite matters. He was most careful of his crew's morals. One day a light under the forward deck was reported, and going forward to locate it he discovered its source was a candle around which some of his young crew were engaged in a game of cards. Retiring quietly without being noticed, he gave the alarm of fire, and soon a stream of water was turned in on the hapless youngsters. The directors of the bank were mostly seafaring men, and directors' meetings were largely social gather- ings where business occupied an unimportant place. One of the few remnants of Falmouth's whaling days is the old stone building that stands in front of the Bio- logical Laboratory at Woods Hole. It was years ago a factory where much of the spermaceti was used for making candles.
In 1815 a terrific storm had washed away the town landing; and two years later, on approximately the same site, the Stone Wharf was built at a cost of one thousand dollars. During the period of whaling, this was the center of Falmouth's industrial life. The money for the wharf was raised by issuing one hundred shares of stock, and the builder, Captain John Hatch, procured from the South some palmetto, or cabbage, logs which he used for a foundation, on which were piled flat stones gathered along the beach. From here the town had practically its sole connection with the outside world. From it one or more packets ran twice a week to New Bedford, and from it trading vessels laden with
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salt, glass, oil, onions, and other Falmouth products, sailed to vari- ous ports along the coast. In those days teams were able to drive on to the wharf, and sizable boats could tie inside its shelter. The salt works occupied an important place in the business of the day, and the entire waterfront of the town was covered with vats where the salt water was left to evaporate in the sun, after having been pumped from the ocean by means of wind- mills through pipes fashioned from hollow logs.
On the site of the present THE TOWN HALL It is the first in the row of public buildings on the north of the main street. It is the center of Falmouth's civic life. Colonel Morse homestead there stood, seventy-five years ago, the old Falmouth Glass Factory, which consisted of a large factory building, a sizable store house, and a coal shed. During the days of its active operation, forty men were employed working in two shifts, one during the day, and the other at night, so the fires were never allowed to go out. In 1857 or 1858, the factory closed its doors and the buildings were later destroyed. The house which stands on the spot today was years ago much nearer the water, as was the Brewer house which occupied the very corner of Shore Street and the road along the water-front. During the Revolution, in one of the two attacks of the British fleet, a cannon ball crashed through the roof of the Brewer house, and the scars it left are still conspicuous in the attic. To the rear of this house there stands today a queer building, octagonal in shape, which is known as "Perry Davis' Octagon." Perry Davis was renowned as the manufacturer of a patent medicine which bore his name and was called "Pain Killer." The old building, after Davis abandoned it, was for years used as a grist mill.
North of the Glass Factory there stood the Lard Oil Factory, where oil was manu- factured from lard by means of a cold press. This was owned by Albert and William Nye. In 1857 the company failed, and the buildings were bought by Stephen Dillingham, of West Fal- mouth, and were moved there by him. There they were refitted for use as an oil-cloth factory. The buildings were burned, however, a few years later, and were never rebuilt. The main street of the town extending from the Green eastward was, seventy-five years ago, almost entirely a street of homes. There were, however, the necessary few exceptions, for on the site now presided over by the Hewins Block stood a tannery and leather shop. Where the Eastman Block now is located was once the modest little home of Joseph Ray, The building has in recent years proven inadequate, and a new building has LAWRENCE HIGH SCHOOL been erected to properly provide for the ever-increasing enrollment. a negro, who for twenty-two years
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sailed an open boat in which he carried the mails, three times a week, between the Stone Wharf and Marthas Vineyard. It is said that during the entire time he hardly missed a trip.
What today is known as the Handy Tavern was years ago the home of William Hewins, who originated in 1836 and operated the stage route between Woods Hole and Sandwich. Mr. Hewins would leave Woods Hole in the morning at about four o'clock and would drive to the North Fal- mouth Tavern or to the "Half Way House," which was located COTTAGE INN On the road to West Falmouth, one of the many charming tea rooms and gift shops that abound in Falmouth. in Cataumet, where the horses would be changed and where the passengers and he could eat. From there the coach continued its way to Sandwich-a total distance of twenty-eight miles-where other stage lines provided transportation to Plymouth and Boston. In 1846 the railroad was extended to Monument Station, and at that time a four-horse coach was operated by Mr. Hewins between that point and Falmouth. Elijah Swift was one of the most public-spirited of Falmouth's townsmen, and in 1833 it was he who built the fence and planted the trees that today surround and so greatly enhance the beauty of the Village Green. The Bank has been a fixture since 1850, and according to Mr. William H. Hewins, "it stands where it has always stood, and it looks the same as ever."
The house now owned by Harry V. Lawrence was erected about 1850 by Albert Nye, son of William, senior. Mr. Nye, a merchant of New Orleans, built it for a summer home, and every year he and his family came early to Falmouth with their negro servants and thoroughbred horses. Mr. Nye installed a private gas plant and the house and grounds were always brilliantly lighted at night. It was the first summer residence to be built, and at the time was an inspiration to every one. Until within recent years, the coming and going of the summer colony that eventually developed in Falmouth made little impression upon the life of the YerOLde Stopper kel community so peculiarly rich in associations with the past. Dur- AN ing the summer months, it good- naturedly looked on, absorbed the vacationer's . superfluous wealth, and when he departed, breathed a sigh of relief in turning again to the accustomed channels and to the manner of life which existed when the summer contingent was unknown.
Fifty years ago Falmouth existed, a sufficiency unto itself, as the home of retired seamen, and
YE OLDE SHOPPE One of Falmouth's many interesting gift shops.
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as the embodiment of the influences that have since guided the facile pen of Joseph C. Lincoln. It was a time of unpaved roads, when the village Main Street was im- passable in the spring, and often at other times; when there were no sidewalks, and a path in the grass by the side of the road served the purpose; when there were no street lights, and each night-stroller carried his own lantern; when the leather water buckets, with the owner's number on each, still hung in the houses and were the only protection against fire; when the "town pump" on the Green still served a useful purpose; , and when the houses in winter were banked with seaweed, and the families hibernated in one or more of the rear rooms.
Thirty years ago some evidence of decayed industries remained. Neglected sheep in the hills and an abandoned building recalled the efforts to establish a woolen industry; a few large vats along the shores of Vineyard Sound were reminiscent of the old salt works; and odd pieces of glass in the various homes were all that was left to recall the glass fac- tory. Efforts in the line of agriculture were extremely limited, for thousands of acres of land were given up to scrub oak and stunted pine trees, and over this area periodical fires swept, so that any quantity of it could be bought for five dollars an acre or even less. In the spring the absorbing occupation was the taking of herring, which crowded the inlets to spawn in the sweet waters of the ponds. They were caught with small hand nets, and the law governing the taking of the fish was the purest kind of communism. Every man at the river who had a net was entitled to his share of the catch whether or not he had assisted, and as each newcomer appeared with his net on his shoulder, the cry went out, "Divide up," which was done, and the fishing resumed. A wagon-load of herring has often been taken from a single stream a few feet wide within an hour's time. No fish were allowed to be taken from Saturday noon to Monday noon, in the effort to allow the fish the opportunity of entering the ponds to spawn.
FALMOUTH HARBOUR In this sheltered cove all the boats of Falmouth Town and Heights have their moorings.
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There were here and there attempts at various occupations. One of the townsmen, George A. Lawrence, was accustomed to go to Brighton each spring and drive down over the road a drove of two or three hundred pigs, selling them off by the way, and disposing of the remainder to his townsmen. The manufacture of shoes was just developing large proportions in Brockton, and it is commonly known that the industry there was at first largely manned by the shoemakers from the Cape. A few remained, and the only dis- advantage of their shoes was that they never wore out. There were cabinet makers whose wonderful mahogany desks and tables, whose beautiful woodwork in the houses, and whose mantels and doorways still exist, evidence of their skill and true art. Here and there was a wheelwright, a skilled artisan who could plan and construct vehicles which never wore out and still occasionally adorn a back yard. The Cape wagons were peculiarly constructed, with a broad tread to which the summer people found it necessary to con- form, or drive with one wheel in the rut and the other out. These craftsmen have all disappeared, but their work remains.
The town was filled with men who had followed the sea, either as whalers or as traders, and one was quite safe in accosting any man over fifty whom he met as Captain or Mate. Whale-fishing slumped with the Civil War, and the clipper-ship era drew to a close with the advent of steam propulsion; and then came the decline of trading with the African natives, so that these men had come home to try their fortunes as landsmen, although the sea was their true home, and their hearts and memories ever turned longingly to it. The whaling trips were from a few months to four years in length, covering all the oceans. Often the captains were accompanied by their wives, and some of the leading people of Falmouth were born on these trips or at ports in different parts of the world.
The town meeting in February was a great event of the year. James E. Gifford, moderator thirty years ago, was a member of the Society of Friends. He had always a twinkle in his eye, and a keen knowledge of the individual men before him which was equal to any emergency. The old whaling captains were often difficult to manage, but when Captain Thomas Lawrence and his brother Lewis were on the floor, parliamentary rules went by the board. It so happened that these two brothers had wood lots at different ends of the town, each with a sharp grade in the road for the return load. For several years the meeting solemnly voted to reduce the grade of Captain Thomas' road one foot. Captain Lewis would then rise and the same process was gone through to reduce his road one foot. No women attended the town meeting in the earlier days, but it later became popular and the gallery often overflowed. One day some one on the floor proposed the over- flow should be invited to occupy seats on the platform; whereupon the moderator, the same Gifford, extended the invitation, with the remark that the younger women would be especially welcome. Few summer men ventured into these meetings, and the few that did, Mr. E. Pierson Beebe, Mr. Ed. N. Fenno, Mr. Henry Fay, Mr. N. H. Emmons, and others, were known as foreigners, and had their diffi- culties with the townspeople. Town meeting in those days was a good-natured gathering of neigh- bors, when the entire day was spent, sometimes two days, dis- cussing town affairs and each other with the utmost freedom. The
LONG POND Located in Good Will Park, it is Falmouth's reservoir.
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CHILDS RIVER
Looking from White's Landing toward the ocean. A few of Falmouth's cranberry bogs are irrigated by this river, which flows from John's Pond to the sea.
women folk served clam chowder, brown bread, and beans in one of the lower rooms. In the early days, town politics was much simplified. Joshua Robinson held practically all the offices; he was selectman, assessor, school committee, overseer of the poor, high- way surveyor, and anything else the town really wanted to have done. There were only three democrats in the town, and these three, E. E. C. Swift, Watson Shiverick, and Wm. F. Dimmick, retired to Watson Shiverick's paint shop for their meetings.
In winter the racing was with sleighs, but not always; for during three successive years, from 1893 to 1896, there was no snow, and the people sold their sleighs to a local character, Steve Cahoon, who conducted a boarding stable in the center of the village. He quietly gathered them all at his own price until his yard was filled with the old vehicles of forgotten winters, and then came a year with two weeks of excellent sledding. Uncle Steve had all the sleighs. The livery business revived, and in a week Steve had taken in more than the entire outfit had cost him, and still had it left awaiting another windfall. That was the time when the postmaster appeared with an antique bearing the date, a genuine one, 1776.
Uncle Steve was one of the characters in a town full of interesting types. He was tall, loose-jointed, of the stereotyped Uncle Sam build, and wore his trousers tucked into his boots; withal he had a keen eye for a trade in anything, from a horse to a jackknife. "I'd buy anything at half price," he used to say. His stable yard was the great depend- ence of the boys on the night before the Fourth; and Steve would have to make the rounds the next day to recover his property, which was as likely to be perched on top of some building as in the street. In time his house was moved, to provide a site for the Public Library; but Steve refused to budge, and ate and slept in it as it was being moved through the Main Street to more humble surroundings. The central section of the vil- lage had many interesting characters. Uncle Steve's next-door neighbor was a man
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by the name of Bosworth, always so busy he never did anything. His house and yard were good rivals of Uncle Steve's, filled with riffraff gathered in from a hundred auctions, one of the most varied assortments imaginable, and with a liberal adornment of smoked herring in season. Across the street was the store of Solomon Hamlin, an outstanding character of the town, a retired whaling cap- tain who kept the village grocery store. He had trained many of the town's boys on his whaling trips, and his store was the favorite rendezvous for the old sea cronies, where informal town meeting was in progress much of the winter. In the spring, when the summer people came, he cleared the decks and prepared for business. He trusted every one, gave away when he could not trust, and cashed almost as many checks as the bank. As a side line he dealt in grain, and from time to time found it necessary to hang out a sign "Bring back my bags." The Captain owned an old carry-all which appeared at every funeral to carry the bearers, and which was faith- fully brought out for Sunday meetings and all religious functions. The Captain had his humorous side. Edward Gould opened a store down the street and advertised broadcast, "I have come to stay." The day after the opening, the Captain rode down the street in his carry-all, and chalked on one side were the words, "I hope to be able to stay."
A SWORD-FISHER AND QUARRY Sword-fishing remains an active trade in the waters some twenty miles off Fal- mouth, and its dangers are reminiscent of whaling days.
One of the most prominent members of the community was a retired sea captain who had been a whaler, and in his early days very religious, carrying Bibles with him instead of rum; but after some unfortunate experiences with the deacon of the Meeting House, he became a disciple of Thomas Paine and Robert Ingersoll. One day the parson, Mr. Craig, came along while the Captain was picking potato bugs from the vines. The Captain hailed him and propounded the theological question as to whether potato bugs were sent by the Lord or by the Devil. The Captain had been very successful as a whaler, and at the side of his front door there stood an immense stuffed bear, with a wildcat on its back. It was a gift from a man named Martin who for years had been First Mate under the Cap- tain, and who later succeeded him in command.
PUBLIC LIBRARY
The large room at the right of the entrance to the Library is devoted to a museum where bits of old Falmouth are preserved.
On one of his first trips as a boy, his ship was wrecked on the Gala- pagos Islands, off the west coast of South America, where two life- boats succeeded in reaching land. There the group of survivors split into two parties and the Captain, then a mere boat steerer, gave a pair of shoes to another lad, also a boat steerer, who, in the hurry and excitement of leaving the ship, had lost his own. One party set sig- nals of distress on one side of the island, and the other group stayed where they landed. After the
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passage of some time, the men were taken off in two separate ships, and the young boat steerers were separated. Many years later a stranger arrived in Falmouth and asked for the Captain then re- tired. It was the boy, the boat steerer, who had borrowed the shoes. The reminiscences and yarns of the two, so many years apart, were wonderful and amazing.
The Captain was of an in- dependent mind, for on one occa- sion the owners of his ship started him on a trading expedition, com- THE EAST FALMOUTH GRAMMAR SCHOOL Over three hundred children from Teaticket, East Falmouth, and Davisville are taught here and prepared for the Lawrence High School. mon to those days, and filled him up with brooms, clocks, cheap jew- elry, beads, and Perry Davis' Pain Killer, a local product. The story goes that he "spoke" a whaler off Brazil on its way home, and sent back word to Rich Bourne that,
"I'm going to haul up the old ship (the bark Java), give her a coat of Pain Killer and go whaling."
He did in fact dispose of his cargo, and made a most successful voyage, landing in port with a ship full of oil. He was let off with a mild reprimand. He was not, however, always so successful. One day, after some months of unsuccessful search, he ordered all the hatches off and a spyglass rigged pointed into the hold, in order, as he said, " that the Lord may see how empty my ship is!" It was on the same voyage that it is said he prayed one day, "Lord send me a blind whale so my crew can catch it."
While speaking of the sea, one of the townsmen, Captain Caleb Hamlin, once de- scribed an experience in which he himself had figured. In a heavy sea, which was washing the decks, a wave came aboard and swept him clear of his ship out into the open sea. The following wave picked him up and carried him back, so that he was able to grasp a rope and hold on. In those days (1890-1900), many of the old sea captains were still living, and much in evidence in town affairs. On one occasion a mock trial was held, and the entire jury of twelve were old whaling captains.
In any mention of those times, the name of Henry Clay Lewis stands quite by itself. He was not of the group of whalers, though it is recorded he once went on a voyage, trad- ing, with his brother Freeman as captain. When they were ashore, the two brothers lived together on a brotherly footing; but at sea, Brother Henry was sent forward with the crew, while Brother Freeman occupied the captain's cabin, and brotherly relations were suspended. Henry Clay kept a livery stable, and was not always on pleasant relations with his neighbors, one of whom on one occasion gave him a severe raking over, and ended by saying to him, "You're the meanest man I ever knew." Henry Clay listened to the end and then remarked dryly, "Perhaps you haven't met my brother Freeman." He was probably recalling his sailing experience.
A story apropos: Henry Clay, as he was popularly known-an illustration of the character of the community relations, which were those of utter frankness of speech-had sold John R. a horse-price forty dollars. John R. went to the woods one day to replenish his supply of fuel, and after loading up, the horse refused to budge. All efforts were in vain, so the Captain removed some of the wood, but with no better results; and finally he was forced to go home as he went, with an empty wagon. Nothing was said until haying- time came, when Henry Clay had his hay down, and was very much in need of a rake.
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QUISSETT HARBOUR About the shores of this quiet bay are lovely summer homes, and directly across is the hotel, the Quissett Harbour House.
Captain John R. had the only one in town; so after thinking it over some time, Henry Clay made John R. a visit to borrow or lease a hay rake. He found him in his front yard, and made known his errand. "I have no rake to lend," John R. replied; "I have none to rent, but there is one out there in the field you can have for $10, cash." Henry bought it there and then, but when he got it home, he found it so broken as to be worthless. Henry thought it all over, and concluded to say nothing. He remarked dryly, "John R. and I were good friends ever after."
In a small building near the town Green, Squire Richard Wood
had his office. He was a trial justice, and kept the unruly members of the community in order with the help of Isaac Laurence, the sheriff. When the fines which he imposed were slow in coming, he had a favorite phrase which he invariably used-"The body is good." One spring he had his old chaise overhauled and painted for the season, and the night before the 4th of July, the boys took it to the wharf at Falmouth Heights, where the Squire found it, dismantled of its wheels and top, with the inscription on the side, "The body is good."
Those were days when "Bobby Bodfish" was somebody-a man of remarkable imagina- tion and investor in "real estate values"-mostly future. He died aged ninety-two, with his dreams unrealized. One of his last expressed wishes was that all the carriages in town should be hired at his expense, when he died, and every one be given a free ride to the cemetery. He was an ardent genealogist, and Mr. Freeman dedicated a portion of his "History of Cape Cod" to him. Bobby's especial dislike was for things Episcopal. He deeply resented the building of the church, but he and the Rev. Henry H. Smythe were good friends. The Rector tells the following story about him: "He dearly loved a good cigar, and whenever I had been to Boston he invariably appeared at my study the next day in a hopeful mood. On one occa- sion I handed him two cigars from an Episcopalian Club dinner, and immediately he lit one of them, which he pronounced excellent. I remarked I had been a bit uncer- tain about offering it to him, as it came from an Episcopalian dinner. He turned quickly, 'I'd smoke it if it came from the devil himself,' he said, which was probably the equivalent to him."
The town abounded in types. One man by the name of Hatch, after trying different ways of earn- ing a livelihood, appeared one morning on the streets with an old
ON THE ROAD FROM QUISSETT TO WOODS HOLE The charm of Cape Cod, and especially Falmouth, lies in the curved roads and gentle hills that constantly present new vistas.
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cart carrying the sign on it "Fresh and Salt Meat, Herring, etc." Some one asked him what the "etc." stood for. Looking at it he said he did not know, but guessed it meant eels, tautog, and clams. There still remains here and there one of this type-and the flavor persists. These stories have pur- posely been confined to one little group, who, with one exception, lived or were in business together on the main village street, all with- in the distance of a quarter of a mile. Too much stress, perhaps, has been laid upon their lighter characteristics. The other side, A typical view which combines rural beauty with that of the sea. In the FROM A FALMOUTH ROAD TO THE SEA distance one may often see ships of the coastwise trade and pleasure craft. however, was very much in evi- dence on occasions. Mr. William H. Hewins mentions one instance of their sterling qualities in Squire Donaldson, grand- father of Jonathan. He was six feet three inches tall, keeper of the peace, and was much avoided by small boys. The district elected him to the legislature, where a bill was presented over which the members fought for nearly a week and finally, on a Friday evening, they voted it should come up Monday morning for final action. Monday morning came and with it a heavy snowstorm, so that very few legislators presented themselves, conse- quently the motion was made to adjourn action. The Squire arose and said, "I ate my breakfast this morning by candlelight at five o'clock, drove sixteen miles through the storm to meet the train to be here this morning. There is no reason why the members living near should not be here." A vote was taken and the bill was passed.
Thirty years ago, the native people were racially homogeneous, all were of Cape origin, and their ancestors with few exceptions had come to America in the early sixteen hundreds. Robinson, Hatch, Swift, Davis, Hamlin, Lathrop, Fish, Lawrence-all are the names of old families, and many sections of the town are called after their first settler. While the population was racially homogeneous, it had its social cleavages; for there existed the frayed-out ends of many once respected families, which were socially quite distinct from the set around the Green. Many of the old family lines have become locally extinct by death. The fre- quency with which Biblical names were. met was very marked; and for the women, names of virtues, such as Patience, Goodwill, Charity, Love, and Virtue are still A CORDIAL WELCOME frequent. Azariah, Ezekiel, Moses, Hezekiah, Josiah, Barzillai, and Peleg were names frequently heard at town FALMOUTH Awwadwwiia.s meeting, and were quite descriptive of the old Testament character of the men who bore them.
A CORDIAL WELCOME Erected by a live board of trade on the state road.
Thirty-five years ago the development of the sum- mer colonies on the Cape was just beginning. There had been sporadic developments before, but no strongly settled trend that way. With this development, the character of the population changed, a few Swedes were imported to care for summer places, and in more recent years the Portuguese have come in large numbers. They originally landed in New Bedford and the neighboring
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sections through the whaling industry, and for the most part have emigrated from the Azores. The "Bravas," so called, a mixed race of Portuguese and negro blood, are quite distinct. These people have settled chiefly in the interior sections of the township, and now form quite one-third of the population of Falmouth. They are a thrifty and prosperous group.
The Paul Revere bell in the steeple of the Meeting House on the Green still strikes the hour and calls the people to meeting, but the old life which once gave the community its character, and formed the link between Colonial days and our own, is giving way to the new, and the years are slowly closing the door upon a quaint and historic past.
THE JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL It stands in the rear of Lawrence High School, facing the west and the athletic field.
It is a pleasure to take this opportunity to thank Mrs. Emma S. Davis, Mrs. J. M. Watson, Mr. Harry V. Lawrence, Mr. William H. Hewins, and the Rev. Henry Herbert Smythe, for their assistance in the preparation of this book. From the Rev. Mr. Smythe were obtained many of the sketches of old-time residents. Letterpress by Henry Hudson, photographs by Hans Eberhard, art work by Cornelia Randall, research by Harriet E. O' Brien, and the typing of the manuscript by Agnes B. Thorpe, all of the Walton staff, under the direction of Perry Walton.
PRINTED IN U.S.A.
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