USA > Rhode Island > Reminiscences of Rhode Island and ye Providence Plantations > Part 10
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Pardon Jastram and Charles C. Nichols, both of the Union Oil Company, are men of the Miller and Burdick stamp. Pardon is a queer, old-fashioned name. Mr. Nichols succeeded Mr. Lyman Klapp as superintendent of the mill, while Mr. Jastram is the bookkeeper.
I have mentioned many men and but few women. The reason is obvious. Irene Gladding was one of the old Arnold- street scholars. Later she became a school teacher. There was Fannie Stebbins, a teacher in the Arnold-street Grammar School ; also Miss Nye and Miss Ellis (Eliza, I think was her first name). These three women and Mr. A. W. Godding, the principal, ran this school. Some of the boys, as a joke, said that A. W. stood for " awful wicked." So, in sport, the teacher was often called "Awful Wicked Godding." They, of course, did not mean it, nor did they stop to think how it sounded. If there ever was a man that was far from being " awful wicked " it was A. W. Godding, the respected teacher of the Arnold- street Grammar School.
Joseph Monroe was an odd character. He kept a saloon on South Main street near Planet. To see Joseph on the street one would little think that he sold run for a living. He was gentle- manly, tidily dressed, nothing loud about him, one of the most quiet men I ever knew.
In the fifties, and even in the sixties, the Barstow and Mowry lumber yards were about the largest in the city. The Barstow yard I have referred to before ; the Mowry yard was further down, not far from Fox Point.
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Earl's Express was prominent in the fifties, now it is Earl & Prew. Mr. Earl was a citizen of the old Third Ward. He built a fine house on South Main street just above James street. Such men as Mr. Earl no longer build houses for themselves in this neighborhood. Across the street from Mr. Earl was Brown's meat market. Mr. Brown kept a fine market; his son Newton rode horseback considerably, and on May mornings would be seen out for a country ride.
In the early days the machine shops in Providence were built of rough stone and plastered on the outside ; the later additions to them are always in brick. There is the Providence Tool Com- pany's shop on Wickenden street, and the old Thurston Green place. The men who were at the head of the old machine and other shops were workmen themselves, practical mechanics, and you always saw them about the shops, in summer, in their shirt sleeves. There was Mr. Thurston and Mr. Fuller, of Fuller's Iron Foundry ; they spent very little time in the counting room. The head man of to-day spends most of his time in the counting room and very little of it in the shop or mill, and I doubt if he could go into the mill, as the man of old did, and do a first-class piece of work. Yet I see nothing against the modern head millman on account of this. Times have changed. In the early days it was necessary as well as economical for the head man to be among his employees, now he hires a foreman and puts in his time where it is more valuable. Mr. William Field was the head man of the Tool Company, and Mr. James Hutchinson was his bookkeeper. Later, the headquarters of the Tool Company was moved up to the north end. Mr. Field died very suddenly. He was away on some business, and before many knew that he was dead he was brought home in a coffin. His son, Henry Clay Field, with others, erected a small shop on Arnold, corner of Brooks street, where they made shoestrings.
The name Henry Clay makes me think how fashionable it was seventy-five or eighty years ago to name children after great men. About 1840 an Englishman visited America. He said that fully half the boys he saw while in the United States were named after Henry Clay. Another prominent name is Win- field Scott, a name that seems to be among the select class rather than the common. Henry Clay was among all classes, the high as well as the low, while Winfield Scott seemed to be common
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among prominent circles. It is quite a favorite with the doctors. Of late years children are not named thus, as much as formerly. On this point Charles Sumner gave good advice : " Wait until the man is dead before you name your son after him." Then you are safe to honor, or not honor, the name. Sometimes men do things that are far from honorable. There is one noted case before the world to-day, a man whom, I suppose, has had many children named after bim, yet you could not blame these children if they should petition for a new name. It is better to give children names independent of the names of great men. No name ever made a great man ; do not hamper a poor boy with the cognomen of a public man ; let him make one for himself.
Thomas A. Jenckes was one of Rhode Island's great men. Mr. Jenckes was a large man, with a severe look. There was nothing of the politician in him. Like Fessenden of Maine, he could not go out and mix with the people and thereby gain their votes. When Fessenden was up for the United States Senate they said to him, "Go out and mix with the people, and see that you say pleasant things to them." He went out, but it is said that within an hour they hurried him in. He was doing any- thing but making votes. Yet this man, after all this, came to the front, and was one of the first men of the nation. Herein what we call "the people " often make a mistake. Some men, even good and able, like Clay and Blaine, could do it; and no one will question the greatness of these two men; but neither Daniel Webster, Fessenden nor Thomas A. Jenekes could do it. When Jenekes was running for Congress a man went into one of the law offices and in an amazed way said to some lawyers: "Tom Jenekes is out electioneering !" It surprised them, and they all asked: "How's that ? What is he doing?" "As I was going across the bridge just now I saw him speak to a man !"
The Rhode Island turkey has gone, for a while at least. In the south part of the State, where, five or six years ago, there were large flocks, to-day you cannot sce one. Some distemper got into them " and they are not." Old Major Throckmorton, of Louis- ville, Ky., in his day said that the turkey was a most inconvenient bird ; he was a little too large for one to eat and not large enough for two! But they have large men down in Kentucky.
In the South County a good man has recently died. While he was well known in the county, especially about Wakefield, I
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doubt if many throughout the State knew of him. He was a financier of the first order, and was one of the promoters of the Point Judith Breakwater, and the new and better opening into Salt Point. If his ideas are carried out it will not be many years before Wakefield is a seaport. When the entrance to the Salt Point is completed it will be one of the finest places in the world for yachts. It is a wonder that the owners of steam yachts in particular do not see this. Outside is the breakwater, large enough to hold all the pleasure boats in the country, and all about the finest lay of land for country houses, or for the whole year round for that matter. Now Mr. Benjamin F. Robinson was the man whose soul was in this work, and for it did more than any other person. In time the State will hear of him.
Mr. Henry Cleveland was a natural genius. He was an illiterate man. Like many of his class, he had a fine memory. He kept a store on South Main street, where the old Holland blacksmith shop used to be, and his trade was mostly with the shipping, supplying them with groceries. He would go aboard of ten or a dozen vessels, take their orders, return to the store and have his clerk put them up, and they were all right.
Mr. Munford was a well-known city official. He had charge of the street work. One of the old jokes was, "Working for Munford, now ?" " Yes; I'm treading pavements for him ?" That is, the man had nothing to do, was walking the streets, probably in quest of a job ; while he was walking over the side- walks he was treading the bricks for Munford.
In those early days there was at least one Russian in Provi- dence. He lived on Shelton street. His name was Schuler. Not much of the Russian sound to it. It is a German name, but then he may have taken a German name. He was a good, quiet citizen.
James Brickley was a novel sort of person, even in his youth. Somehow he got hold of a small lot of beaver or silk hats, youth's size. He wore some of them to school and the teacher called them "Brickleyites."
Captain William Jones was one the prominent captains of the old Propeller Line. Later he became captain on the Providence Line, and was in command of the steamer Massachusetts. When this boat was new, one night coming from New York
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there was a fierce storm raging between the end of Long Island and Point Judith. It was thick, too. The captain thought it safer to turn back and keep in the Sound until morning. By this he lost his reckoning. It was thick, and the first thing he knew the steamer struck on Sandy Point. It being shallow water there was no danger, even though there was a large hole in her bottom. The passengers, being informed that there was no danger, settled quietly down. When morning came an old German came out of his stateroom. The striking of the boat and the commotion had not disturbed him. His face had a quiet look, and he asked if the boat had landed ! The passengers were sent to Providence by rail by the Long Island Railroad through New York, and thence by the Shore Line to Providence.
Nicholas and Lucius Bolles were my cousins. Both of them were graduates of Brown. Nicholas went into the Providence Bank as a clerk; Lucius studied medicine with Dr. A. H. Okie. When the war came on he enlisted as a surgeon in the Union army. After the war he settled in Philadelphia and married a Philadelphia woman. Both died before middle life. Nicholas was a gentleman and quite a fair artist. I have one of his pictures, a crayon sketch.
At my Aunt Sarah's (Bolles) I often met Mrs. Woods, when she was Anne Francis. My cousins always called her Cousin Anne. She was not, however, so near related to them as to me, for the connection was on the Updyke side; my mother being an Updyke, I was nearer than they. But I was poor, while their mother, my Aunt Sarah, was brought up in the household of John Carter Brown, her cousin.
The Rev. W. West, of Bristol, was an Episcopal emeritus min- ister. In his later days he became childish. One time when I went to Bristol, passing down the main street, a man in the second story of a house got almost half way out of the window, swung his arms, and halloaed, " How do you do? How do yon do?" I asked who he was, and was told that it was the Rev. W. West, who later became the father-in-law of my uncle, Samuel M. Noyes.
Mr. Ox lived somewhere on Sheldon street. He kept a small store up town.
We remember the large, genial omnibus driver, Sol Gage, as he was called.
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There were the Alles-Jolin, Oliver, Mary, and others, all Third Warders.
There was Jessy Comstock, who was a High School boy. He went out with the First Rhode Island ; was wounded at Bull Run ; was put into an army wagon ; that was the last seen of him.
The Allens, who lived on Arnold street, and the Kents, who lived on Transit, were related. The Allens were jewelers. Jacob Kent was one of the Third Ward Grammar School boys.
There was John Ellis, the blacksmith. His shop was at the junction of South Main and Bridge streets. Besides being a blacksmith, he was a great trader. He was interested in vessels, and made quite a bargain by selling the coal schooner Eva to Benjamin Buffom, for the Propeller Line.
The Horton brothers were Arnold-street schoolboys. Henry was the oldest. He went to work as clerk in Joseph R. Brown's place, then on South Main street, where the big elock used to be, on the sidewalk, supported by a heavy post. This clock was very convenient, and its time could be depended upon. Walter Horton was the younger brother. It seems that his father was teaching him the art of self-defense, i. e., boxing, etc. Walter was practicing ou all the boys with whom he could make a row. One afternoon, after school, some ten or a dozen boys got around me. " Ike Noyes" was to be another victim to Walter's skill. But he was not. By one not versed in the noble (?) science of self-defense Walter was knocked out in the first round, getting a bloody nose. " You didn't fight fair!" cried Walter. I knew nothing about fighting but what nature taught me. When I saw that the other boy intended to hit me I just up with my fists and pitched into him. That was all there was to it.
There were quite a number of Pecks in Providence. There was Allen O., who was in the insurance business, and lived on George street ; there was also " Judge " Peck, prominent in cotton machinery, and one of the founders of the West Side Club. Both are dead. At the lower end of South Main street was the firm of Peck & Salisbury, coal dealers. Mr. Salisbury was a large, heavy and genial man. This Mr. Peck I was not well acquainted with. On the upper part of Wickenden street lived another family of Pecks. They kept a livery stable, near the corner of Hope street. John, one of the young sons, worked in
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a store up street. He was the gentleman of the family ; indeed, a very gentlemanly man was he.
On the corner of Sheldon and Thayer lived the Marble family. Sylvester was the fine young man of the Third Ward. He, too, worked in the store up street. The older brother went to sea, and finally settled in Honolulu. When his father died he came home to see about his share of the property. It was small, so I think that it did not pay him to come all the way from Honolulu to Providence. He stayed in Providence for a month or two, then left, evidently returning to his family in Honolulu.
Another Sheldon street family was the Butts. Mr. Butts was a harness maker. When the war began Edward got a posi- tion in the Navy as paymaster's clerk ; later, like Samuel Brown, he became full paymaster.
Next door to the Butts was the Burr family, with sons and daughters. The daughters were Louise, and Abbe.
Another prominent family in the old Third Ward was the Everett family. The father was a school committeeman. The son, now an old man, is a prominent member of the Rhode Island Historical Society.
On Sheldon street, across from the Butts, was the Lawton family. Mr. Lawton had two fine daughters. They dressed with exquisite taste, but somehow they got no beaux; they were too fine for the neighborhood.
The Bradleys were another Third Ward family; boys and girls. The boys were Thomas and Whipple. Thomas learned the machinist trade at Corliss & Nightengale's. Soon after his time was out he had the misfortune to get caught in the machinery, whereby he lost one of his legs. This disabled him so that he was unable to follow his trade for a living, and he became a traveling agent for an artificial leg firm. When Whipple was a boy he had a small cannon made of a pistol set in a block. He was in the yard of the old Four Engine house firing his cannon. There was a cry, " Merryweather is coming !" Merryweather was the policeman, in those days called watchman. Whipple took up the cannon and held it in his hand behind him; it went off, and blew off his third finger, I think, on the left hand.
In 1857 there was a great craze for electric baths. Mr. Bud- long, the young man who preceded me in Mr. Morse's office,
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opened a place in Arnold Block. The craze was of short duration.
A queer character was James R. Potter. When I first knew him he was the engineer in the Tool Company's Works. Later he went into the grocery business; kept a small store at the north end ; then moved up near the cemetery. The baker came in one day, and, looking around, says: "Where are your cus- tomers. Most of the people live way up on the hill ; they will not take the trouble to come way down here." Then, looking across to the graveyard, he continued : "You will not get any customers from there ; they are not buying any more goods in this world ; the rest are few and scattered. Mr. Potter, where do you expect to get your trade from ?" Mr. Potter had no an- swer. He evidently had not thought of these things. His trade was very small, and in a year or two he left for some other local- ity. The next I heard from him he was dead.
There was Dr. Edwin M. Snow, a well-known doctor of Provi- dence. His practice was small. He became City Physician. Yet, strange to say, he was better known throughout the country than perhaps any other doctor in Providence. He wrote some, but not innch; his articles were all short. Still he was well known, and what he wrote was always sought after by the great medical library of the Surgeon General's office.
Mr. George M. Baker was, for many years, the Secretary of the Grand Lodge of Rhode Island. He, too, was well known throughout the city.
Prior to the war, and for a few years after, Mr. Crawford Allen was a very prominent man in the business circles of Providence. He gave a great deal of money for the raising of troops to battle for the Union cause. Perhaps some may say that it was because liis son, young Crawford, was in the army, by giving the money he assisted his son. There were other rich men, having sons in the army, but I never heard of them contributing. Mr. Allen was a rich man. He left his widow $600,000 in United States seenrities. No investment could be better. She had good advice from Mr. Nightengale, who had had charge of the estate, to not part with these securities. But in an evil hour she was prevailed upon by Mr. Moses Goddard to put this money into the extending and improving of the old Allen works. Instead
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of business continuing good, it became very bad. Practically the money was all lost. Mr. Goddard allowed her, so long as she lived, $1,500 a year. She did not live long and her family was left destitute. The pension was stopped. Later business revived and was good, but Mr. Goddard has not made any of this Crawford money good. It would seem that he should have done so, at least in part. There is no law in such a case to compel a. man to pay. It would seem though that we need some higher court, a court to deal with cases that are above the law, or for which there is no law. Often we see in the papers that some man has, practically, stolen a large sum of money, or has bank- rupted an estate. He cannot be prosecuted, because there is no law in the case. The higher court would attend to such cases. Were such things done by some " Boss Tweed," how the hands of the righteous would go up in holy horror ! Yet when they are done by some reputable person nothing is said or even thought about it. May the highest court come!
Horace Binney, in his day, was one of the great lawyers, even of the world. He was the peer of such men as Webster and Choate. His son William came to Providence and entered Brown. In due time he graduated, married one of the Miss Goddards, and settled in Providence. He was a member of the city government, and received the high position of Presi- dent of the Council, next to the Mayor. But they would not let him go further. He was au able man, and a man of superior culture. He should have been sent to the United States Senate instead of some others who were elected. In that body he would have brought honor to the State. But the men who controlled the political affairs of Rhode Island would not send him. One thing, and the only thing, they could say about him was, "He's an aristocrat." I would that there were more such aristocrats. Men at once able, true, patriotic, and with a high regard for their fellow-men. It is no wonder that William K. Vanderbilt said, "The public be d-d!" This has often been quoted, yet never, I think, in justice to Mr. Vanderbilt. I do not think that he meant by that to damn the public, but to damn that part of it that was ruled by small and selfish men-men who were all the while talking about the public, calling better and truer men than themselves such names as would cater to the simple public.
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When will the public learn to see who are their friends? To- day to simply call a man an aristocrat is like the mad dog cry.
One of the pleasant, yet sad, incidents connected with Rhode Island was the death of Engineer Guild. Bret Harte wrote a short poem on the death of him. It seems that he was in the habit of blowing a signal to his wife as he passed his home, which was near the railroad track. He was an engineer on the steam- boat train that was wrecked by the washout about thirty years ago, near Richmond. The last line of the poem was, " Guild lay under his engine dead."
Eben J. Bean had a fine shoe store in Olneyville Square. He prospered, and made much money. Later he opened a store on Westminster street. This too, was a success. Up to this time he was a bachelor. In dress he looked like some well-to-do me- chanie. He began to acquire style, dressed like a banker, and then got married to a fine stylish woman. Here came his turning point. From affluence to loss of business, to poverty, no longer a prosperous business man in Providence, but off out West some- where as a drummer. He was a gentleman, had no bad habits, but in an evil hour got interested in the old British ship Hussar, the vessel that brought the money here during the American Revo- lution, $3,000,000 all in silver, with which to pay the British troops then in America. The Hussar lay somewhere near Hell Gate, New York. One night she got afire, and was destroyed save her hulk, which sank. From that time to this there have been many efforts to secure that silver-but all in vain. Mr. Bean became deeply interested. He not only put into this venture all that he had, but tried his fine powers of speech to get his friends in it also. With what success I do not know, but there is one man whom he did not get, and that was Mr. Isaac W. D. Pike of Olneyville, the man of whom he hired the Ohneyville store. I do not believe that there was ever any money there. My opin- ion is that it was all stolen by a few knaves ; that they then set fire to the vessel to cover their tracks. Much money has been expended on the Hussar ; divers have been employed ; only a few silver dollars have been found on the spot. All sorts of theo- ries were set afloat as to where the money was. The last was that the currents of that locality had carried the old hull under a shelving rock, where it was difficult to get at. All that was wanted was a few thousand dollars in order to reach the wreck.
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Mr. Bean was one of the simple ones, ready with all the money that he could procure for the purpose. Undoubtedly he had beautiful visions of millions, all in old English silver that were ready to come to him, but it never came, and I do not believe it will. Ile had a fine business ; now he is somewhere out on the Pacific Slope, a drummer for some shoe house.
Just after the war there was another and similar scheme worked by sharpers who came to Providence in one of those small West Indian fruit schooners. Their fortune lay in the wreck of an old Spanish vessel that was wrecked off the Spanish Main, and which they said contained untold thousands. One of the Providence men who became interested in this wild scheme was Mr. Samuel Blodgett, the President of the Providence Savings Bank. How much he put into it I do not know, but from his later action-leaving Providence suddenly as a defaulter, with many thousands of dollars, thirty, I think-all this may be con- neeted or traced to this wild and foolish scheme. Yet Mr. Blod- gett was a fine man, and apparently a very sensible one. He was a warden of the new St. Stephen's Church, and was highly re- spected. His action was a great shock to the citizens of Provi- dence, and all who knew him were exceedingly sorry to learn that he had been so foolish.
The man of whom Mr. Bean hired his store was, as I have said, Mr. I. W. D. Pike. In early life Mr. Pike was a country school teacher. He learned the moulder's or founder's trade, and used it for the purpose of travel. He first earned a little money, and then went West. Stopping at a place where there was work, he would obtain a job, all the while on the lookout for a new base. So he went, I think, nearly, if not quite, to the Missis- sippi River. When his money was getting low he would start. for a new place. By this means he saw considerable of the country, and acquired a polish such as the stay-at-homes do not have. Later he got on the constable force, and after awhile became one of the Deputy Sheriff's of Rhode Island.
Thomas Hart was Sheriff. We all remember him-a tall, spare man, of a genial nature that never made enemies.
On the corner of South Benefit and Wickenden streets, before the war, were two frame houses. They were known as the "Shelter ;" I suppose for negroes escaping from the South. I never saw any about, but these houses were kept very close. As
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I lived very near-344, now 324, Benefit street, fronting Shel- don street-I saw these houses every day, indeed many times a day, but I never saw any one enter or depart from them. They were kept by a family by the name of Attwood. An amusing thing occurred with the daughter, a young lady, then about twenty years of age. She went up to the Arcade and bought something. After the purchase the storekeeper refused to give her the change. "I have given it to you," he said, " and if you will ouly think you have it, you'll have it." . A sort of Christian Science argument, though Christian Science was not heard of in those days. The next day Miss Attwood went into the same store and made a purchase that was the amount of the change of the day before. Then she deliberately walked out. "Here !" says the proprietor, "you have not paid for that !" " Yes, I have, and if you only think that I have it is all right." The man at once saw that he was repaid in his own coin, and so could say nothing. Miss Attwood departed in peace. She had a brother, Stephen, whom I knew well.
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