USA > Rhode Island > Reminiscences of Rhode Island and ye Providence Plantations > Part 8
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The old Bethel meeting many of the boys will remember. It has, or had, two entrances, one on Benefit street and one on Wick- enden. Of a Sunday evening Mr. Chiddle, one of the wardens of the church, stationed himself near the front, or Benefit street entrance, where most of the boys entered. He would condnet them to pews where he could have his eyes upon them. A few of us flanked Mr. Chiddle by entering on the Wickenden street side, but as we behaved ourselves we gave no trouble to him. After " Father Taylor" came the Rev. Charles H. Plummer, who is still living (1905). The boys used to have a song on old Mr. Chiddle, which ran thus :
"I went to a public meeting, I sat in a public pew, Old Chiddle caught me by the wool, And made me hollo Du, du, du."
A prominent man in the old Third Ward was Mr. Billings Bar- stow, who kept a large lumber yard. Mr. Paine, the father of Charles Paine, who for so many years was City Engineer, was the port surveyor for lumber. Captain Spooner lived in the old Bailey house, opposite Wickenden street and near the Tool Com-
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pany works. He was one of the old-fashioned captains, who had made voyages to India and Africa. He brought home some old African souvenirs. His sister-in-law was Miss Perry, who kept a millinery store in the Arcade. While she made nice and pretty bonnets for the world, she wore connnon old headgear herself, and her clothes generally were indifferent. She was well known, and was often referred to as the Belle of the Areade.
The Italian movement, I think, commenced just before or just after the war. An Italian, about thirty years of age, came to Providence. For a short time he boarded with Mrs. J. U. Noyes ; then he was away for a month or two, being, as we understood, out in the country, where the Italians had settled. This man readily got hold of the slang of the day. He had some trouble with a man. When he came back he told us of it ; then remarked, " I told him I'd wax him!"
John Coleman was a strong character ; nothing weak about him ; yet he was courteous, and not at all proud. Three little incidents illustrate him. At one time he worked in the shops of the Providence Tool Company, and while there a boiler flue blew out. It was not dangerous, but there was no knowing at the time what might be the result. He was soon on hand, and took charge of the forces that were trying to battle with the flames. After it was all over he told me that he swore like a trooper. All who knew him knew that he was not a profane man, yet under this excitement he "swore like a trooper." John was a man who could on such occasions be excited, and even be pro- fane, yet the man himself all the while was as cool and self-pos- sessed as when quietly at work. One time, soon after the war, he was on board of a James River steamer. There was another boat ; the two were racing. One had crowded the other off on the flats. As a result of this there was a contact of the two boats, and their guards were slightly damaged. A man aboard of his steamer became very much excited and made a great deal of noise, which was occasioning much unnecessary alarm. John grabbed the man by the throat, and swore at him like a pirate. "D --- ye, shut up, or else I'll knock yer into the middle of next week !" or words to that effect. John Coleman was like the man who, in his normal condition, said he weighed one hun- dred and fifty pounds, but when mad he weighed a ton ! This
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was John Coleman. Another time he was out in California, prospecting for gold. There were three or four in the party. One carly eve, after candlelight, found them on the top of a high hill, from when ce they could see the lights of the camp. They had a consultation as to what to do. John's advice was to go direct down the hill, which was covered with snow ; the others Were afraid. Before attempting it he threw his shovel and pick off' on to the snow, as far as he could throw them. He noticed how far they sunk in the snow ; then he jumped, spreading him- self out all he could ; he only went about two feet into the snow. The others dared not venture, even after seeing his success. In order to reach camp they went some three or four miles around ; his route was only about half a mile. He reached the camp some two hours ahead of them. John would have made a fine commanding general. He could act quick ; take advantage of any circumstance that might occur, and back the whole with good judgment. He was a good scholar, and well read in the department of engineering ; would have made a first class en- gineer. After the war he was agent for the Harrison boiler, and in this capacity traveled all over New England and the Mid- dle States. If he wanted to get off, when there was a chance for a sale, he got off. With one conductor he had trouble. The conductor was obeying railroad orders most consistently. John would not get off, so the conductor got the train force and ejected him. For this he brought suit against the road. It was a long, legal fight, but he wou. It was written up in a number of the magazines, and the press took a lively interest in the case. Later he was Engineer for the city of Providence, and made some powerful enemies by enforcing the city statutes against trespassing on the sidewalk. At the next election he was dropped. He would have made a fine member of Congress. John has been dead about ten years.
James F. Simmons is a man whom the people of Rhode Island should honor. If called upon I doubt if many could give any information in regard to him. He was the peer of Webster and Clay. For years he sat in the United States Senate with these men. He was not an orator, but he was a man of superior sense -- second to none. He entertained both Webster and Clay, at his home in Johnston.
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When the war first began, in 1861, in Providence there was a poor German locksmith, gunsmith, &c. He kept a little shop on the east side of Market Square, just above the Whatcheer estate. His name was Shubarth, and he was a younger brother of Shubarth, the engineer. He invented a rifle. At the bntt, and extending some ten inches, was an opening, with a cellar-door- like covering, held by a hinge forward. On the barrel was a ring that slid back and forth. When you wished to load you slid this ring forward; you put in your charge, and slid the ringback. A very simple process, but it was not a success. Now the Gov- ernment wanted arms, and, as we know, they took very indifferent arms by the thousands from the armories of Europe. Hon. Simon Cameron was then Secretary of War, and through him thousands of these worthless guns found their way into our army, yet no one ever accused Mr. Cameron of collusion with the sharp- ers of Europe. Yet when Mr. Simmons' name was mentioned in relation to the Shubarth gun contraet at once an investigation is ordered, and in due course of time Mr. Simmons is thrust out of the United States Senate. Mr. Shubarth may have been an innocent man ; he may have intended no wrong ; he was a common looking man, a man of limited education, a man who could be easily imposed upon. He testified against our grand fellow citizen, the Hon. James F. Simmons. It would seem that under such circumstances the word of a United States Senator, the peer of Clay and Webster, should stand higher than that of a com- mon illiterate foreigner. If these guns had been taken they would have been better than the worthless lot accepted by Seere- tary Cameron-at least they could have been no worse. There should be a fine marble statue of James F. Simmons in our State Capital, and a fine portrait of him, if one is not already there, hung somewhere about the Capitol. It is a shame to see a man like James F. Simmons knocked out by some contemptible little skunk !
The one-horse shay is gone. Cocky Ross was the last to have one in Providence. They were very cosy. People are all the while returning to old things ; it is a wonder they don't take up the old one-horse shay. Perhaps it requires a little more room in which to turn in a crowded city, but not much more. I guess the large hind wheels of a modern buggy will require as much
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Then there is the old harbor water boat. Its absence speaks for and emphasizes modern improvements. The water boat was a long, wide, low boat, some twenty-five feet long. She carried a tank of water below deck, and had a force pump and hose to force water to the decks of such vessels as desired water.
We must not forget Mr. Packard ; if others do, we must not. Hle thought that an illuminated clock in Providence would be a good thing. I also think so, and why that city has not had it seems queer indeed, for she is pretty far ahead in most things. Mr. Packard paid for the face; for awhile he was able to illumi- nate it; but his purse was not very deep, so the appropriation failed, and the well-to-do people of the First Baptist Church let the lights go out, and stay out.
The boys of the old Third Ward will never forget " Godfrey's Lemon Beer." The old place was on the corner of William and South Main streets. Particularly of a warm night, when going home, people would stop in and get a drink of his beer. Mr. Godfrey kept an old-fashioned grocery store ; he lived upstairs. While he was out his daughters would frequently come down and serve the beer. The way he came to have this beer was through a stranger. Up to that time he had kept the common root beer, such as I suppose they had in colonial times, and of which Wil- liam Jeffreys speaks of his wife making. The stranger gave Mr. Godfrey the recipe; from that time he began to make it. That must have been prior to 1850. He continued to sell it as long as he lived. One year the beer was made in large quantities and sold throughout the city, same as root beer to-day, but it did not prove a success. Evidently the people of the other parts of the city did not like it as well as the down-town folks. Mr. Godfrey always had on hand a small bottle of tincture of capsicum (red pepper). Many of his customers liked to flavor the beer with this sharp stuff.
Then there is Major Munroe, of whom little is thought. When the war came it found him ready to enlist. He became a captain of a Rhode Island battery; then a major of brigade of artillery. In October, 1862, when we went to Washington, we found him in command of the Camp Barry "Camp of Instruction." Now that was a high compliment, a man from civil life, made com- mander of such a camp. Later he became active in the field,
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was commander of one of the corps of artillery brigades. He was an able officer. On East Capitol Hill, an extended plateau, where we had our field drills, we saw him drill at one time over twenty batteries. It was a grand sight-all being done by a son of Rhode Island, now little thought of. When he came home he resumed his work, that of a construction engineer. He built the long wharf at what is now "Crescent Park," but his last and greatest work was the railroad bridge at New London. The trouble in the matter was, Major Munroe was poor ; he therefore had no social rank. Had he had social rank he would have been made Governor or sent to Congress. Rhode Island does not seem to honor its great men much. She has honored some who never should have been.
Before the war, in Newport, they had a queer way of building a house. The house would be commenced in the spring; roofed in by fall; plastered ; then so soon as it was plastered, in cold December weather the temporary windows would be removed, and they would have what they called a dry cold. The cold and severe winter winds soon removed the dampness in the mortar. If it came out warm, the mortar was spoiled, but that seldom, if ever, occurred.
Speaking about buildings makes me think of that monstrosity, the new fire engine house near the station in Providence. It is the ugliest building I ever saw. Wonder what influence it took to get such a job, a job that is nothing but a job-not one re- deeming feature about it-all ugly ? The cheapest way out of it now would be to go to some good architect; if you cannot find one in Providence, go to Boston or New York, but there are men in Providence equal to it ; build new walls about the whole ; put a good cornice on it, and as for the tower, make it over. Per- haps the architect will plead want of funds. There were funds enough before. There is much useless work that could easily have been dispensed with, so there is no excuse for want of funds. There was enough to make it ugly ; less funds would have made it better.
Some years ago, perhaps fifteen or so, the old steamer Rhode Island was wrecked on Bonnet Point. The wreck was peculiar. It was a very foggy night. The steamer bad got around Point Judith all right, and they supposed that they were likewise past
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Beavertail light. But it seems they were not. They turned off towards the west. Instead of going up the Bay, they ran on to Bonnet Point. What excuse could there be for sneh apparent carelessness ? The excuse was in the fog, and this accident de- veloped a peculiar action of fog that before that was not dreamed of. Aboard the steamer they did not hear the fog horn. At Beavertail they blew the horn ; it was heard once, the first time ; evidently they did not hear it again, so thought they were all right. The Government took up the case and made many tests in fogs. It proved that while you could hear one blast, the next, only a few seconds later, could not be heard. The condition of the fog was all the while changing; sometimes very thick, then openings in it. The fog would communicate the sound, while the openings would interrupt it. The horn was blown while the openings were over the lighthouse. The officers aboard the steamer could not hear it, therefore she ran on the rocks. Fort- mately no lives were lost ; there was no sea at such an inland place. A good steamer was lost. It was said of her that she was the best-balanced boat ever built, and was unlike the second Rhode Island, that had to carry fifty tons of ballast in her stern to keep her bow properly ont of the water. The cause of this was that the engine was too far forward. When they put the new engine in this was corrected.
I have said considerable about the men ; have mentioned a few women ; but there is one woman who, through the disconr- tesy of many of the best families of Providence, was a martyr to dress. Up to the time of the war, and even a little later, as pictures of receptions at the Executive Mansion, Washington, D. C., will show, the ugly hoopskirt was all the fashion. Was there ever a more ugly and ridiculous fashion for women ? It is fortunate for the men that women as a rule are so docile, and will do such things. Following a silly fashion is proof. With the hoopskirt a woman could not stand on a platform two or three feet high without exposing her person, at least as far up as the knees. We read of one getting into a crowded New York bus ; her skirts went up perpendicular; there she was, and in a crowded omnibus ! In righting it considerable difficulty was met. Now, Mary Vial (" Molly " she was generally called) had been to Europe. She came home from Paris, and brought the
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new and sensible style with her, neat and elegant, yet men and women-not common folks, but Second Ward elegant men and women-would gaze at Molly and grin and grin. When you met a man almost the first thing would be, "Seen Molly's hips to-day ?" They never thought of asking if they had seen Flora MeFlimsey's legs! This was contemptible. Miss Vial was a woman of culture, and, being such, stood the insults, well know . ing that those who gave them were ignorant of gentle courtesy. She was one of the first American women, if not the first, at least the first in Providence, to have her hair bleached. The natural color of her hair was dark. While in Paris she had her hair bleached ; a new fashion then started in Paris, When she went away her hair was quite dark; when she returned it was very light. I suppose Mary rests in the beautiful tomb, creeted by her father and mother. Mr. A. C. Morse was the architect, and Isaac P. Noyes the draughtsman. It is an elegant gothic brownstone structure, designed by Morse. That is enough to say of it.
As I have said in the first paper, I used to go in swimming at Slate Rock. Now, of late years, I have become a passable landscape painter. My first attempt to paint a picture was to paint Slate Rock. I kept the original ; it is exceedingly poor in outline and in color, but there is one redeeming feature about it, and that is the rock. I have got the rock all right. I can now paint a better picture, and have lately painted a more pretentious one. An artist in Providence painted a fine picture of Slate Rock. As a work of art it is as far ahead of mine as a Grecian picture is ahead of an Egyptian one. But I have the rock and the surroundings as they were. Up to 1862, when I went to the war, they evidently had not changed. Since theu great changes have been made. The artist painted his picture as he saw it when a boy ; I painted mine as I saw it when a boy, at least thirty years prior to his time-when the rock was entirely out of water, four feet of water at high tide, into which we dove. In this artist's picture you only see the top of the rock ; you have no idea of its shape. You would never imagine that you were ever near Slate Rock. What makes a picture of the true rock now the more valuable is that vandals somewhere about 1863 to 1865 did all they could to destroy the surroundings, then later
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they blew up the rock ! What vandalism! Yet they did more good than they dreamed or thought of. They sent the rock around the world. I have helped distribute some. The Rock of Liberty (the Plymouth) is as grand rock, but no grander, if as grand, as Slate Rock. Plymouth Rock stands for State liberty ; Slate Rock for soul liberty. Which the greater? My reply is, neither. One without the other would be of small account, of no value to man. The two go together, the two make America what she is, grand, typical of old Israel, the only land where the teachings of the old prophets are respected and inculcated. Let us honor Slate Rock; we honor ourselves by the grand act.
ISAAC P. NOYES.
WASHINGTON, D. C., Aug. 12, 1905.
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Reminiscences of Rhode Island
and
Ye Providence Plantations.
When I started these Reminiscences I sent the first, second and third papers to The Providence Journal. The first and see- ond were printed by that paper; the third was rejected; perhaps went into their waste-basket. Yet, notwithstanding this, for weeks and months, week after week, the silly contributions of Mr. Millett were regularly published; and all this in The Provi- dence Journal, a paper that is well known for its polish, culture and general erudition ! Mr. Millett's contributions, as can read- ily be seen, dealt in the most commonplace remarks : After this manner "John Smith lived on Transit street ; he was a fine man ; by trade he wasa house carpenter. William Jones was a house painter; he lived on Brook street ; he was another fine man. James Clark
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was a fine merchant ; he lived on Wickenden street, and was a dea- con in the Third Baptist Church." And so it goes, week after week, month after month, this silly stuff, all in The Providence Journal, one of the centers of culture of the Union, with the be- nigned influence of Brown University hovering over the city, and no one to call a halt. What I have presented speaks for itself. It has been complimented by some of the best citizens of Rhode Island. Copies have been loaned, from one to another ; and re- peated calls have been made upon the writer for copies.
For me to say this some may regard as conceit. If this be conceit, let it be conceit. If there is anything that will make a man indignant it is such treatment ; not by the low and common people of the world, but by the best-by those who are regarded as typical representatives of a high-grade community .. While I am on this line it will not be out of place to refer to The Journal's treat- ment. Under Danielson, whom all know was a high-grade man, I was never turned down. What I sent in to him was always printed, if I may except one paper, wherein I condemned a ridiculous scheme that had repeatedly been advertised in The Journal. My paper was not published, neither was there any- thing more said about the "great scheme." Mr. Alfred Williams succeeded Mr. Danielson. He was[a man of the class of whom a man once said, "He always looked as though he'd bite a ten- peny nail in two." The Journal was publishing, even in its edi- torials, foolish things about the weather. I did my best to correct this. I took some weather maps to him, and with his permission began to explain them ; he rudely brushed them aside, with the cold remark, "I am not interested in that." Being more diffi- dent than I am now, I simply gathered up my maps and retreated. If that thing was repeated to-day I should tell the man that if he would become interested in the map, and learn to read it, the columns of his paper would no longer contain such silly remarks about the weather.
When Mr. Holland came in I sent in a number of papers on the weather. The first two were honored by being put in edito- rial type and on the editorial page; the third was relegated to the rear, to the correspondence space. For the first two I was paid about three dollars apiece -- the only money that I was ever wait for my writings. Evidently there was some enemy behind aR tliis .:
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Next comes Mr. Barry. At first he honored me, but only in the correspondence columns. Then my manuscripts were rejected. I wrote on the Monroe doctrine, for the reason that few under- stood it. I read the best authors, not claiming anything original. I simply desired to do what the papers all over the country had not done, make it plain to all, even to the commonest person. This was rejected, and another man's manuscript was honored, when it was evident from the date of these papers that mine was in four or five days ahead of the other man's. The other man com- menced his article by condemning the whole thing; the law, if such there be, should be repealed. There was no artistic arrange- ment to his paper. Then towards the last he made a complete summersault, indorsed it, and said that it should be maintained(!) So I sent my paper to the Washington Post, where it was hon- ored ; after which I had a reprint of it, and sent it all over the country.
My next experience with the editor was that I sent him an- other timely paper on the weather. It would have taken about a third of a column ; it was rejected. Then in the next Sunday's edition there was published a quarter of a page, all on "hog's melts," by some ignoramus in North Providence, and, as a climax, accompanying the silly paper was a fine picture or portrait of the gross person. The paper was evidently written by one of The Journal staff, for I do not believe that this North Provi- dence man was able to write in the style of that paper.
Those who travel readily see the changes in the railroads that have been introduced within the past fifty years. When rail- roads were first built the plan, in connection with the railroads was to use the steamboat as much as possible. This was why the Long Island Railroad was one of the first in the country. It was to connect with a steamboat line from Stonington, or another port. Then along all the railroads were places to stop for lunch, like South Kingston, in Rhode Island, or Wilming- ton, Delaware. But the steamboat as thus used is gone, as is also the wayside restaurant. The steamboats are in use for regu- lar lines, and in some places, as in going from Harlem to Jersey City, to carry the cars. The dining-room car is now the order of the day ; you eat while you travel. The meal is one dollar ; for this sum a good dinner is served. I do not see wherein the com-
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pany makes a great profit. There is the car, the service and the attendance, as well as the supplies. The cars north of New York city do not, on the average, make as good time as those south of this point. The distance between Providence and Boston is only about two miles greater than from Washington to Balti- more. The Baltimore & Ohio runs a regular express between the two latter points in forty-five minutes ; on an express train, from Providence to Boston, I was one hour and a quarter; in a run from Providence to Kingston, twenty-eight miles, we made the distance in three-quarters of an hour. The Pennsylvania road run their cars from Jersey City to Philadelphia, a distance of ninety miles, in two hours, and even less by five minutes.
In about 1850 the napkin, in Providence, first came into common use. The rich people had them long before this, but the more humble persons did not use them prior to that date, and some, who wanted to be in style and could not afford or could not buy napkins, nsed small towels. This makes me think of the towel when first introduced into England by the Normans. The Saxons did not take kindly to it; to do that which the Nor- mans did was repugnant to them; even the Saxon lords would wash their hands, then spend a number of minutes in drying them by moving their arms back and forth.
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