USA > Rhode Island > Reminiscences of Rhode Island and ye Providence Plantations > Part 9
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In the summer of 1865 there were two small steamboats, about the size of the Newport, fitted in Providence for the South American trade, to run on the river Platte. It being im- practicable to send them to sea in the condition they were, the guards were replaced by sponsons. For the benefit of those who are not familiar with naval architecture, a sponson is an open- pointed plankwork put over the braces that support the over- hanging guards. Were a river steamer to go to sea as she is the sea, breaking up under the guards, would soon wreck her. All outside sidewheel boats have sponsons in place of the usual bracket support. Captain Hatch was in charge of these two steamers. During the war he was mate, but practically captain, of one of our large transports that carried many of the sick and wounded soldiers from the seat of war at the South to Annapolis. He was a large, rugged and manly man, yet he was overcome by the sight of the poor Union soldiers from the vile prison pens of the South. He told me that while superintending the unload-
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ing of these victims of the cruel Southern pens he was so over- come by the horrible sights that he would often go away to some other part of the ship; the tears would come to his eyes in spite of all he could do. He would remain away for some minutes, then return to his duty. A number of young men went with Captain Hatch in these steamers to South America.
As all, who were familiar with political things before the war know, that the Republicans were generally known at the South and among the " copperhead " element at the North as "Black Republicans." "This was because they denounced slavery and were for the freedom of the slave. These nicknames were more common than now ; indeed, we seldom hear them now.
Since these days arts, and particularly the branch known as architecture, has wonderfully developed. Architecture is now more of a profession. Then there were a number of carpenters, who, by the way, always called themselves "arch-e-tects," and they were all over the country. They would learn to draw ; they would keep all the drawings that came into their hands from the regular architects. To their patrons they always represented that by employing them the "arch-e-tect's" commission would be saved, and this, with such patrons as they had, was quite an item. These men had little education, and none in the line of architecture. They had no conception of style, so they would mix all the styles. Let an architect go through the city, and he can readily pick out the buildings built by these "arch-e-tects." Yet many of our best citizens patronized these self-styled "arch- e-tects." Once in awhile one of them would become so prosperous that he would hire an office and put out his sign as " architect." Their buildings were full of faney, doll baby details, which re- mind us of the saying of the old Greek critic, "not being able to make things beautiful, they made them handsome, or better, pretty." But their day is over. More highly and specially educated men have come out. You now very seldom see the "arch-e-tect," unless it be in a new country.
While on this subject I will refer to the two fire engine houses, erected in 1866, one on Benevolent and the other on North Main street. I was then with Mr. Morse, the architect. That sum- mer Mr. Morse went to Europe. Mr. Matthew Ingraham came to me to make a design for these engine houses. One of his fore-
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men had made a design, but Mr. Ingraham, being a man of good tasto, did not like it. At the start he told me that there was no money with which to pay for a design; if I would take the chances of getting something later he would like to have me make one. By this one will readily see that Mr. Ingraham would not have gone to Mr. Morse with such a proposition, neither do I think Mr. Morse would have entertained it for a moment, for Mr. Morse was a man who put a good price upon his work, and was not liable to take such a job with such a dubi- ous prospect. The engine houses were built and stand to-day as I drew them, with the exception of the hose tower; that was cut down to save a few dollars, and the design materially in- jured. When Mr. Morse came home I thought it advisable to tell him. I explained to him, and added that the work was done out of office hours. But this made no difference with him; he was angry. Later I saw him on the street, very earnestly talk- ing with Mayor Doyle. Whether he got anything or not I do not know; I think that he did, but I never received anything. The appropriation for these houses was $12,000; at three per cent commission I would have been entitled to $360, or at least one and a half per cent, or $180. There is nothing in the fire- engine line in Providence that will compare with them, and if the hose tower had been carried up and finished as my drawings called for, the effect of the whole would have been better.
I was a poor, young man, struggling for a position. I had been to the war ; not a hundred-days', three-months', or even nine- months' man, but as a three-year man. I had seen and felt war in its worst forms, and to this day am suffering from disease and disability contracted while in the service. I receive no pension, and would not accept one, notwithstanding I learn that it can now be readily obtained. Under the 1890 act I did put in for a pension, and only named part of my disabilities. The evidence is in the official records, but these seem to have been disre- garded. I was called on to prove everything, and I proved it; I had two first-class examinations. I presented the, evidence from my doctor, who said, " I have treated you for those legs for twenty-five years ;" I got a nice letter from Captain Jeffery Hazard, who was then the captain of Battery HI; I procured evidence, as called for, from two or three reputable citizens who
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had known me for twenty years or more. Still the Pension Office was not satisfied! How I could say more I am at a loss to know. Then they sent me a paper that read thus : " Prove that you did not contract the disabilities by your own vicious habits." I was disgusted, and wrote the Commissioner to drop my name. Had I known that I would have been put to such trouble I never should have made an application. Here the matter rests. By high officials in the Pension Office I have been pleaded with to reopen the case. No, I never shall ; I am able to live without it ; so I do not propose to submit to any more humiliation. I was put to all this trouble for eight dollars a month. A three- months' man, without much less trouble, procured a twelve dollar a month pension, not for disease contracted in the service but for a head disease that he inherited from his father, and which caused his father's death. This man is now dead, from the head or brain disease, I think. In order to secure such a pension there must have been some pretty heavy lying.
I have before spoken of the "High Church" in Providence. If there was ever anything contemptible and false it is this. Yet there were many nice people deluded by it. They take the young and inspire them with the idea of the " True Church." According to their teachings all else is false. They are simply trying to revive mediaval ideas. The commandment says, " Thou shalt make no graven image * * * "' They teach that Jesus Christ is " very God of very God." So, according to their faith, Jesus is God. Then they hung his figure up, as seen in St. Stephen's Church, as a cadaver. Was there ever anything more repulsive in religion than this? God Almighty being upon a cross nude, with the exception of a breech cloth about his loins ! And this is called religion! As Lyman Klapp, one of the most ardent supporters of this fetishism, used to say : " We want to lead more howley lives" (!) I graduated from this at the same age that Mohammed graduated from the heathenism of his day, and entered upon a new life, and taught the oneness of God. The Dervish ery puts it in a few words-
"Allah acber, Allah acber, La illa, illa Allah, Mohammed, Rasoul, Allah."
One of the unique and pleasant characters of Providence was Miss Converse. She was a teacher, and it was she who for so
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many years supplied The Providence Journal with its monthly astronomical information. So far as I know, that paper was a pioneer in this matter of astronomy. Quite a number of papers all over the country now publish monthly this astronomical news. I take these names as they come to me ; there is no pref- erence with them.
The Kendalls, George and Henry, were my old schoolmates at Arnold street. Their father was for many years a clerk in the City Post Office. George had a very fast sled, the Dart, and it was a dart for going. Itewas a light frame sled and was painted dark green. Some of the other fast sleds on the Arnold-street hill were the Rattler (Tuppy Mason's), a small box sled. Then there were some light openwork cast-iron sleds that were very fast. Edward Holland, the architect, when he was a boy, had a fine sled of iron, built like a wooden frame sled. Henry Ap- pleton's brother built him a fine frame sled of hard wood.
Mr. John Holland, who studied the apothecary business with Mr. Benjamin Bailey, was a most enthusiastic fireman. He ran with the Sixes, that had their engine house on Benefit street near College. College Hill was a difficult hill to go down. Once, at least, there being only a few men, the machine got going so fast as to get beyond their control, and bang it went into Young & Lyon's store front, at the foot of the hill.
Rufus Waterman belonged to one of the first families of Provi- denee. He was wealthy and a man of superior culture. Quite late in life he lost much of his money, yet the gentleman was there. Perhaps he did not carry his head quite so high as when a young man, but then he was much older; perhaps past three score.
I remember the Updykes, Cæsar and his brother, lawyers; had their office in the old building about half way up College Hill from South Main street. Between Benevolent and George streets they built a fine double house of brick.
Then all the old citizens will remember the old genial Judge Updyke. He was a cousin of my father and my mother, my father and mother being cousins.
Most all communities have their sad as well as their pleasant things. One of the sad things of Providence was the intimacy, or, perhaps better, friendship, between the Miss Ives and the Rev. Mr.
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Randolph, the assistant to Dr. Crocker, virtually the full min- ister of old St. John's. Mr. Randolph was a fine man; poor, but rich in everything else, and in all that makes a man noble that he was. Miss Ives was the daughter of Robert H. Ives, a man re- ported as being worth $23,000,000 (relatively a larger sum than now). Miss Ives was a most devout woman, and was a teacher in the Sunday-school. This naturally brought her and Mr. Randolph together. She fell in love with the young and superior minister. And what refined young woman would not fall in love with such a man? But he realized the barrier between them It was money, and in money only, was she superior to him. Her folks objected ; and yet her elder sister had married a poor pro- fessor, a superior man, yet in no way superior to Mr. Randolph. Mr. Randolph left St. John's and went to some other city. The lady pined away and died. In going to and from my office I always passed the Ives honse. It was now carly fall, or mild weather at least. Every night there was a fine-toned hand organ playing in the garden, playing the sad strains of " Norma." I can hear it now, and shall never forget the tune, " La, la, la, la, La, la, la, la, La, la, la, la, La, la, la, la." Sad and plaintive, well fitted for this case.
There were the Peekhams. One lived on the southwest corner of Arnold and Benefit streets. I understand that he was quite an artist, and painted a picture of Slate Rock. If so, I should like to see it preserved in the cabinet of the Rhode Island His- torical Society. There were the Doctors Peckham-father, son, and now grandson. Then there was Stephen Peckham, who mar- ried Mary Peek, and who was, and I believe is, if living, a pro- fessor in chemistry in some college.
Peleg S. Sherman was a genial old soul. He and Mr. Howard were together, Howard & Sherman, coopers. Mr. Sherman's house was most attractive to the young folks of the neighbor- hood. He had three sons and four daughters. Almost every night we gathered there, and while some of the company played on the piano the others sang the songs of the period. " Darling Nelly Grey," " Old Kentucky Home," "Swanee River," etc.
The great oysterman of Providence was Mr. Pettis. We shall never forget the Pettis oysters. The last boat that Mr. Benj. Appleton built was for Mr. Robert Pettis, or "Bob," as he
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was called. This boat, in model, was as fine as any private boat of the day. She was built of oak, for wear, so she was naturally heavy. But as she was an Appleton boat, in rough weather nothing of her size, about twenty-five feet, could beat her.
Elisha Potter, lawyer, of South Kingston, was an able and genial man, perhaps better qualified for a judge than for a lawyer. Later, I believe, he became a judge. His brother William lived on Kingston Hill, an old-fashioned aristocratic center. Some years ago a woman writer, in one of the magazines, said: "You know that all of the best blood of the country comes from the South." I replied to this, and more, I told them that much of the best blood of the South comes from the North, and but for this Northern blood the South would not have done so well in the war against the Union as she did. Compare a Southern village or even small city, like Fredericksburg, Va., with a center like Kingston Hill (and there are hundreds, if not thousands, of them), in New England! The culture of the Southern village will not compare with the New England town. As for culture, there are scores of cultivated persons at the North to one at the South, ancient culture, too. Note the universities, North and South. I never heard of a Northern man going South to a uni- versity, while by the hundreds the young men of the South would go North to some university. In the face of this to say that all the best blood of the country is in the South ! Ridiculous !
In the fifties the prominent tailors were Moulton & Rodman, (the Rodman who after some years became Mayor,) and Guinett & Bixby, on South Main street. Moulton & Rodman were on the west side, on Westminster street, about half way between the Arcade and Turk's Head. In this neighborhood. was also Seth Shaw, the clockman-the same name as the man who made the clocks in Connecticut. Another tailor was William Mc- Donald. At first he was on South Main street, with the Sherman Company ; then he branched out for himself, and finally moved on Westminster street. A good tailor was Mr. McDonald. Thomas Taylor was bookkeeper, and later a partner of Guinett & Bixby.
Mr. Zachariah Chaffee, the President of the Builders' Iron Foundry, was a power in his day. In 1857, when the house of Sprague went under, Mr. Chaffee was appointed as executor of
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that estate. That was the worst failure that Rhode Island ever experienced ; many a house went down. If this proves anything, it proves the foolishness of men doing business upon practically borrowed money, going on other men's notes and other men's names on their notes. So long as it was fair weather all went well, but when the storm came they all went like the line of bricks that we boys used to put up, for the fun of seeing them fall against each-other, and all in turn tumbling.
The High School had its experience with teachers. When I entered the High School (1854), Mr. Magill was the teacher in the classical department, and Mr. Lawrence in the English de- partment. Mr. Lawrence was an Episcopal minister emeritus. He was a fine man and a good teacher, but too fine and kind for such a school, and yet it was the few and not the many who were the cause of Mr. Lawrence losing his place. The King boys were the principal ones in the contemptible business. They would annoy him. Fred King would go up to him in the most affectionate manner and ask him some ridiculous question ; then pretend to be so stupid as to not understand. Mr. Lawrence was a descendant of the "Don't-give-up-the-ship" fame. He was a fine reader, and after lessons would often read to us. One of his favorite pieces was the "Sunrise in the Vale of Chimonia." This he rendered in a fine manner. Mr. Crawford Green came to take his place. When he was going out there were tears in his eyes. For a few days Mr. Green " looked daggers," but he soon found that the boys were well behaved. Fred King now behaved, and all went well.
In due time we came to the advanced room, under Mr. Crosby, who was a good teacher, but he was not smart enough to be up to the tricks that some of the boys played upon him. While reciting in geometry some of the boys would have their books open right before him. Such boys, of course, had perfect lessons and went along very fast; others did not, and I was one of these. So, one day Mr. Crosby says: "This is the day of steam. We cannot any longer wait for the stage coaches!" So, about ten or a dozen of us were put back to review our work. I know not how it was with the others, but for me it was a good thing, for what I had studied I knew and knew well. One day there was a stranger visiting the school. The boy at the end of the
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seat was called. He got up and satisfactorily went through with his explanation. The next boy was called. He failed. In fact, he had no idea of the proposition. The next, the next and the next were called in order and all failed. Mr. Crosby began to look black in the face. As I was next, and the last on the seat, he had to call me, but his look was not very satisfactory. I stepped upon the platform and went through with the explana- tion. Then he, in order to show his smartness before the stranger, began to ask cross-questions, but I knew the proposi- tion. Turn it anyway he was mind to, I was ready for him. Now, this was one of the best things that ever happened to me while in school. I could not learn fast, and as for any sly practice, I then even knew that there was no real gain in it. I cannot learn or understand a thing mless I know it. So far as I went in geometry I understood it, and many a time those old problems have been of practical use to me in more ways than one.
About this time or a little before, say, prior to 1852, Bishop Henshaw died. My brother, John Turner and myself rode in the same carriage at his funeral. The Bishop had two sons, who were about as unlike as a white man and a negro. Daniel is known by all men in the diocese of Rhode Island as a fine man and most earnest minister of the Episcopal Church-a man who was in the same noble class as the Rev. James Eames, Mr. Richards and Mr. Randolph, His other son, when I knew him in Provi- dence, was one of the gaily dressed men of the town ; indeed, quite a swell. Somewhere about 1875 or 1876 he came to Wash- ington. A change had come over the man. He looked common ; was dressed in a common suit of store clothes. He came to see me ; made himself known. I long had known him, but not inti- mately as I had his brother. Then I occasionally met him on the street. IIe got more and more shabby, as men will do who are poor and like rum. The last time I saw him he asked for money to get something to cat. I gave him a quarter; that was the last I saw of him. He is now dead.
The Tefts, of South Kingston, I have before referred to. They both were very intelligent, and their sons and daughters became teachers. Daniel lived on his own farm upon the hill- side, while John lived on the Potter estate, on the plain, just at the foot of the hill. At the entrance to this farm used to be a
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slight mound. The story I heard of this little pile of earth was that it was the grave of a murderer. He was hung at this point and buried beneath the gallows. How many years ago I do not know. This summer I met an old comrade at Matunuek. We got talking about old times, and I referred to this old mound. He said that he, too, remembered it, and his story agreed with mine.
Thomas Dorr. I have before referred to him, but he was such an interesting person and championed so worthy a cause I can- not help but mention him again. One of the quecrest things in life is to see the number of men, "born in the purple," figura- tively speaking, and of the oldest and most aristocratic families, championing the cause of the weak. It is the spirit of the old knight errant. Thomas Dorr belonged to the F. F.'s of Rhode Island. His brother-in-law was Judge Samuel Ames. Judge Ames was with the "Algerines," that is, the party that was against the suffrage, so well established in the United States. The Whig party, strange to say, were against the franchise move- ment, while the Democratic party, as a whole, were for it, though many of the first and best men of the State were with Dorr. The party grew. Mr. Dorr did not accomplish much in his day, and some think nothing. But they did. They sowed good seed. The "Algerines" won on the first move, but later they lost. The only thing they gained was stigma, and it will adhere to them so long as the nation lives. The world may not mention it, but the historian is always forced to tell these things. They are handed down to the future, and coming generations will have little respect for the men who did these acts.
Old Captain Ormsbee I well remember. In his day many of the best families lived down on lower South Main street, even below Transit street. Now this locality is occupied by a very common class, mostly of newcomers. In due time we hope they will become good citizens. It is our duty to throw around them the best influences at our command.
While I was in Providence, September, 1905, Mayor Miller died. For some twenty years or more I have known Angustus S. Miller. He was a gentleman after the order of Albert Pike. This was always Albert Pike's climax : " He was a gentleman !" The keynote of Mayor Miller's life is summed up in his own
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words: " I prefer to be associated with honest men though they be in the minority." He was after the order of the "politest man in France," who was courteous to all, accepted all that was given to him, and gracefully, too, and returned thanks for even the most humble favors. There are few like this "politest man in France."
Mayor Henry Barker was quite a different sort of man. He was a Uriah Heep ; played the humble until he reached his point, then showed his colors. In 1874 he was at the head of the City Council. On behalf of the city he received the keys of the new High School on Summer street. I would like to have a picture of him as he then appeared in his " store clothes," and one of him in his nice clothes when he became Mayor. We were old schoolmates, both living in the Third Ward, and both going to the Arnold-street school. Then, when we met, it was Henry and Isaac, free as any two boys could be. When he got to be Mayor,. and was dressed like one, he was changed. None of them ever equaled Mayor Doyle in dress. When I met him I went up to him, expecting the old greeting. At first he pretended not to know me, but as he could not play that part, he was very indif- ferent and said "Good day," and that was about all. Another man who served me thus was Samuel Brown. My ancestry in this country dates back to 1634, and all who are familiar with history well know who and what these ancestors were-the founders of Harvard College, and generation after generation the patrons of it. The Rev. James Noyes was one of the incor- porators of Yale. On the Updyke, or maternal side, my ancestry leads back to Van Person, who was cousin to Queen Anne, and who came to America in about 1721, and had a grant of land reaching from Newburg, on the Hudson, to Albany. To be cut by such men as Henry Barker and Samuel Brown seems ridiculous indeed. Then I have accomplished far more than a shipload of such common men. Conceit? If so let it be ; I am willing, at any day or hour of the day, to show up my work beside that of these men.
Mr. William A. Burdick, of Westerly, was quite a different sort of man. He was the agent of the Smith-Westerly Granite Company, and often came into Mr. Morse's office to figure on stonework. When I opened my office in 1866 he came in to see
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me, and frequently had me to make drawings and designs for him. The Westerly Granite Company did a large amount of work in the line of headstones and monuments. He did more for me. While in town (and he came at least once a week) he made my office his headquarters, and for this he paid half of the rent of the office-a kindness that was appreciated. There are few men in the world like William A. Burdick. One day, while engaged in some work about the works, a derrick or some- thing fell on him and knocked him down into the lower depths of the quarry, where he struck some jagged rocks. It did not kill him, but after that he was not the man that he was before, and it shortened his days.
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