USA > Rhode Island > Reminiscences of Rhode Island and ye Providence Plantations > Part 11
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Up to the time of the war or thereabouts the cameo was very fashionable. Every manufacturing jeweler made cameos, and they were fine pieces of jewelry. Many ladies had their hus- band's profile cut on one, which they wore as a breastpin. The chasing and the cameo are out of date and now on the list of curios.
Up to 1850 the "cellar-door " breeches were worn, but were fast going out of fashion. I wore a pair up to this time. When the new fashion was introduced it was considered vulgar. My pants were white summer pants. In those days they had camp- meeting "over back " on the Commons, facing Transit street. I was over there and, with other boys, crawled in underneath the tent. The next morning my pants were quite green. Mr. I. W. D. Pike, of Olneyville, still wears the " cellar-door " pants, or " trousers," as they are now called. The old-fashioned name was "trousers." Later the French word "pantaloons" was introduced, and in time became corrupted and shortened into simply " pants."
One of the strongest men I ever knew, if not the strongest, was George Studley. He drove a team for Ormsbee & Sayres. He would take a barrel of flour, 200 pounds, unassisted, withont skids and put it into his wagon. When he reached the house he
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would put it on his back, cross the sidewalk, up a flight of steps some six feet to top of bank, take it around to the back door, up three or four steps, into the house. The distance from the wagon to the kitchen was not less than sixty feet. Mr. Studley had a brother who had a small tailor shop on South Main street near Transit.
Some years ago, one winter down in Florida, there was a small lady from Rhode Island stopping at one of the hotels. Because she was so small and from a small State they railed on her. It was all in a joke. She took it all well, and in a mock, pitiful tone of voice said : "Is there no one here that will take my part ?" On the other side of the table there instantly arose an immense man, six feet or more, and weighing some three hundred pounds. "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "I am from Rhode Island !" That was all'he said.
I came pretty near forgetting one old friend, the house painter, Mr. Townsend, by name. He, too, lived on Sheldon street, and was a quiet, gentlemanly man, quite indifferent in his dress. His daughter, a beautiful young lady, displayed exquisite taste in her dress. Mr. Townsend's shop was on South Water street, corner of James.
Then there was W. Whipple Brown and his son, Edward, who was in the High School with me. Mr. Brown, the elder, had his office in one of the old buildings on South Water street, above Crawford. For many years he had a barometer and read it daily, and could always tell you how it. was. While Mr. Brown was a most genial man, he was a most positive one. Too often the positive man is not very pleasant. He wants every one to come to his. altar, but confound the other man's altar! Edward, the son, after coming out of school, went into the storage business, having a desk in his father's office. Some ten years or so ago he had typhoid fever. In his delirious condition he jumped out of the window and killed himself. He was a fine, promising young man and, like his father, a gentleman.
Before we moved to Providence, which was in 1846, the people . kept hogs, and from the appearance of the old pens in the yards it could not' have been far back where the pigs were running loose. Mr. Shaw, who lived on the sonthwest corner of Benefit and Transit streets, had a fine one. It was now nicely cleaned
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and whitewashed, and made into a playhouse for his boys. I often visited it.
One day in the winter of 1853 there was a heavy fall of snow. It stopped aboat 5 P. M., just as school was out. To boys of my size it was waist deep. It was getting dark; only a few teams had passed, thereby making an indifferent path in the streets. The sidewalks were unbroken. I was out with my shovel clean- ing our sidewalk, when along came two Irishmen. One says to the other, " He'll be President." This was what the school commit- teemen said when they visited the school, telling the boys that some of them, or some one of them would or might be President. I do not think that is said now to the boys. In the fifties it was very common.
I have said that while a boy I received no nickname, that is, from the boys. I did, however, receive one from my father. While we were living down in Maine, in 1842-1844, when my father came home to take us back to New York city he had been reading some novels. One of the characters was "Col. Pluck," the other " Sam Slick, the clock pedler." "Col. Pluck " was a quiet fellow, and as my brother was a quiet boy my father called him " Col. Pluck." Me he called " Sam Slick, the clock pedler," because I was very talkative. One night, when we were going home, one of the boys on the way said, " Good night, John." My name is not John now ; my father gave me a new name, "Col. Pluck." This evidently impressed me, for when we got back to New York city I was sent over to Brooklyn to live with my Aunt Eliza Boone. My father went off to sea, " up the Mediterranean," taking my mother and brother with him. My aunt sent her two children to " pay school," where a Miss Jones taught the girls and small boys, while the father, Mr. Jones, taught the elder boys. The daughter asked me my name. Thinking it my name, I replied seriously, "Sam Slick, the clock pedler," and this was all she could get from me. She took me in to her father, and the reply was the same. So in regard to my Cousin Tomas, (he being born in Cuba, the name was spelled Spanish fashion). In 1845, or the next year, my father returned. We then lived for awhile near the Bowery, where I became familiar with Bowery ways. It was a good experience, for there I learned human nature and the ways of those rough boys. It has been of advantage to me ever since.
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My father was never fitted for a sea captain. He was small in stature, and had very little idea of business. When he was young he wanted to learn the printer's trade. In this he was wiser than his father. To be a sea captain and to own your own vessel in those days was a big thing. " I shan't have any printer's devils in my family. Come to sea with me, and when you get twenty-one I'll give you a ship." The father kept his word, but the boy was of too fine a nature to be a seaman. The result was that in ten or twelve years he lost his vessel, and from that time on had to go as mate. He was a first-class navigator, but times were changing. The captain must be a business man as well as navigator. Later in life he quit the sea, went out West, settled in Iowa, in Quiney County, in the southwestern part of the State, and became the first Mayor of Quincy. He was cut out for a public man, and as such, in the West, he ended his days.
Mr. McCall kept a shipping office on South Water street, just below James. Then this was quite a business; now there does not seem to be much, there being very little or no foreign com- merce.
Mr. Robert Hicks, who lived on Transit street, was the boiler maker of the fifties. His shop was a part of the works of Thurston & Green. Mr. Hicks was a large, genial man, and a typical head man of that day.
The Richardsons lived on Sheldon street. Mr. Richardson was a jeweler. He had two sons and one daughter; Charles, the older, William, the younger. Both, I think, got positions in the City Post Office. But Mary was the idol of the neighborhood. All the boys loved Mary, not as lovers, but simply loved and respected her. She was the tomboy of the Third Ward. Yet she was about as fine as a woman could be. In winter she would have her sled and slide with the boys just as they did. She grew up to be a fine and elegant woman, and married some one out of the Third Ward.
Next house to Mr. Richardson lived Jenekes Sherman, a hat ness maker. Later he and Mr. Farnum opened a wholesale store on the corner of Exchange Place and Dorrance street, Fut his second wife he married the widow of Wheeler M. Blanding, She was also his sister-in-law. On South Main street, upp nite the Pioneer Engine House, was the paint shop of Halless & Mansir. We boys used to call them Mallet and Handas. As
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to boats, I have mentioned the Comet ; I would also particu- larly mention the Haswell. She, too, was, built in Connecticut. The Butlers of Pantuxet bought her. For some years Jim Carr sailed her. He had formerly sailed the Ceres, the Tom Ives yacht. Later they employed Mr. Treadwell. He thought it a brilliant idea to increase the size of the mainsail by adding some feet to the bottom. The experiment was not a success. It brought the boom too near the heads, and when sailing before the wind, in a rough sea, the boom would catch in the waves. The Connecticut man who built the Haswell knew how to rig her. She was one of the fast boats of her day ; for her length I do not think she was ever beaten.
John Carter Brown was a small man ; I do not think that he was over five foot four, and not a very heavy man at that. He was very rich. His cousin and my cousin, Walter Danforth, tell me that no one, at least outside of his family, knew how much he was worth. Walter said it was anywhere from fifty to one hundred millions. After he was dead, and they thought that they had found everything, they discovered in one corner of his safe $10,000,000 in United States bonds. He was not a charitable man, at least outside of such things as would redound to his own glory. He gave money, I believe, to Brown University ; and his son Nicholas built for Brown University the beautiful John C'arter Brown Library, which contains the finest "Americana " in the world. No books are admitted to this library that are of a later date than 1800. He most always carried a cane, and walked with his arms akimbo, as it were to keep people at a respectful distance from him. Such was the man. His partner, Mr. Robert H. Ives, was a very plain man, quiet in dress. He, too, left nothing to speak of, at least to charity.
Farmer Whittaker was a regular Solon Shingle. He brought his farm products in to Providence to sell. Regular, Saturday mornings, he came in from Seekonk. In their season he would bring fine strawberries. He liked to joke with the women folks. Ilis son came to town and learned the dentist's trade.
Then there was " Johnston Rareripes." He came from the west or Johnston. He was a regular huekster, a most genial large rawbone Yankee, always having some pleasant word to say.
The night lunch cart is a Providence institution. In other cities I have seen a few, but in Providence there are many. It is
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queer who supports them, but as there are many there must be a demand for them.
While in Providence I noticed that the Arcade columns on the Weybos. et-street side were showing, at the base, signs of decay. This can be remedied in a very few minutes, and that, too, for an infinitesimal cost. Apply cement in the form of a wash, same as whitewash is applied. Some might think that cement applied with the trowel would do, but it will not. It would take ten times as long to do, and would not last more than a few years, whereas cement applied as a wash will last as long as the stone. By the wash a very thin coat is put on at a time. Apply the brush until the decayed surface is brought out to a level with the columns. Then, if the contrast of color is not liked, mix lime with the cement, and with a little care a color may be produced that will very much resemble the granite.
The "Old Man's Home" was a good suggestion and well carried out. My uncle, Samuel Miller Noyes, in his will left $12,000 to this worthy institution. He also left $12,000 to the Rhode Island Historical Society.
Mr. Amos T. Jenekes accumulated a lot of rare old curios. Curios as enrios were not then thought of, but later they became very prominent. Mr. Jenckes had a fine lot, that was mostly brought from the East a hundred years ago or more. When he died his widow sent a large number of them to Mr. John Carter Brown Woods. When they were being packed a stranger, seeing them, made an offer of $300 for the lot. She put no price upon them. As she had no children living, and as there was no one related to Mr. Jenekes living in Washington but myself, I advocated the return of these things to Rhode Island. Mrs. Jenckes sent them. They are now in the Woods mansion in Providence. Mr. J. C. B. Woods, for these rare curios, sent Mrs. Jenckes $125, less than half what the stranger offered.
While I am touching upon this it calls to mind Professor Jenekes, who was so prominent in building up the museum of Brown University. In this museum is a fine Japanese pala- quin. It came to Mr. Jenekes through the captain of an American vessel that was lying in a Japanese port while a revo- Intion was going on. The king was trying to escape, and was to be brought to an American vessel in this palaquin, but it seems that he never reached the vessel, or if he did, he was captured
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and put out of the way. The boat had to sail without him. The palaquin was aboard, and was brought to the United States, and presented to Professor Jenckes, of Brown. He put it in the museum in the Rhode Island Hall.
Benjamin F. Thurston was one of the prominent lawyers of his day. He was the attorney for Thurston & Green in the great Sickels cut-off case.
Then there was Samuel Curry, commonly called Sam Curry. Ile was more of a counsellor at law than an attorney. He was often retained as counsellor in many of the large cases of his day, and was generally associated with some prominent lawyer who could talk well.
Dr. Bowen, of Johnston, was one of the old country doctors of his day, in the fifties and sixties. He is now dead. When he was a young man the smallpox raged in Rhode Island. The patients were put into a public hospital. He often related with pride how he smashed in the windows of the hospital, thereby giving the patients plenty of fresh air.
One of the meauest men with whom I came in contact was Louis A. Barnard, then a prominent life insurance man, later a mill owner at Fall River. He wanted to build a house. His son Louis had married my cousin, the daughter of Warren Noyes, my great grandfather's son by a second wife. Mr. Bar- nard came to me to make him a plan and design. I did so, but I do not believe any architect was ever so pestered by a patron. It did not seem possible to please him. He always fell back on his wife ; she wanted a different arrangement of rooms. I never knew whether I satisfied him or not, but I evidently did, for very soon I saw in The Providence Journal that Mr. Barnard was building a fine house at Fall River. I went down there and found that the carpenters had made considerable progress with the framing ! I was surprised. So far as the plans were con- cerned, and so far as I knew, the sketch plans were not decided upon ! A knavish piece of business. The house was peculiar ; in fact, it was two houses, with one entrance at the front and one at the rear. The wide halls were adjoining ; and front and back were large sliding doors, so that the two could be thrown into one-a unique and original plan. One house was for himself, the other for his son, all under one roof. I think that after he had settled upou the plan some other architect made the working
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drawings and I was left out. A great business for a man who was held in so high esteem ! He died, his son died, his son's wife died. There was left a daughter; she and the old grand- mother lived alone in this great house, which practically was two large houses united in one. This young girl grew to womanhood ; she had no society. There was a young coach- man by the name of Scully ; this was the only man she saw. It was a mistake. The young couple were married. The grand- mother drove theni out of the house. They came to Providence and lived in the old grandfather's house, and for a living he went into the milk business. They had children. After a few years the woman tired of the man. So far as I could see he was a good man and husband. She applied for and got a divorce ; on what ground I do not know. The grandmother died. Before the divorce was secured they went back to the old Fall River house. They are now separated. He and the children live out West. The house was sold, and she lives somewhere near Crescent Park. All this was on account of impraetability on the part of the grandmother. Had she allowed Jessy to go into society she might have got a husband that would have been more satisfactory to her more mature taste. Her maternal grandmother was Sarah Hetford, or some such name, who was a woman of superior culture. She came from Fall River; was a school teacher there. She had a love affair; was separated from her lover, came to Providence, met my uncle, Warren G. Noyes, and married him. He was a good man, but much older than she. They lived happily together. Warren G. Noyes was a " chaser." The present generation have little idea of what a " chaser" was. He was a man who chased jewelry. In the fifties all jewelry was " chased," a kind of graceful lines, scrolls, etc.
Another old schoolmate, and a good writer, was Welcome A. Green. He was the editor of The Providence Plantations ; and also wrote a fine account of the "Butterfly Factory Bell," giving an elaborate account of its history. It was made in Spain, some three hundred years or more ago. During the French invasion of that country it was captured ; was used aboard of a war vessel; later on one of our vessels, I think; still later it somehow got to Rhode Island, and was finally bought by the
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Butterfly Company, and hung in the belfrey of their factory, or mill, where, instead of calling saints to prayer, it called Ameri- can citizens to work, and rang at the noon and evening hours for them to quit. Quite a romantic history for a bell. It would seem queer if now somebody shall secure it and return it to the convent from whence it came.
And so the Reminiscences come to an end. At present at least I have nothing more to say. I have covered more ground at the start than I dreamed of doing.
Before closing I would call attention to what Mr. Sidney S. Rider has said in regard to Roger Williams. Mr. Rider is an enthusiastic admirer of the man who founded the Providence Plantations. He says that the old constitution, written by Roger Williams, is the fundamental principle of all the State constitutions. So, from Mr. Rider's point of view, Roger Wil- liams was great in two large things-things most important to the whole human race: the State and the Church. I would that there were more Rhode Islanders like Sidney S. Rider. Long may the spirit of Roger Williams live and hover over the affairs of men ! No grander character ever lived !
ISAAC P. NOYES.
409 FOURTH ST., WASHINGTON, D. C.
October, 1905.
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There are some eminent Rhode Islanders of which we seldom ever hear. There is Elisha Bartlett, the philosopher, born in 1804; when he died I do not know. A man outside of Rhode Island, Professor William Osler, on December 7, 1899, de- livered an address on him before the Rhode Island Medical So- ciety. Then there is General George Green, the hero of Culp's Hill at Gettysburg. We also go outside to hear of him. Colonel Fox, in the New York State War Reminiscences, gives this son of Rhode Island great praise and credit as a soldier and gen- tleman. Such things seem to call for no comment. Rhode Island is famous for such things, as well as for her clams.
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