USA > Rhode Island > Bristol County > Bristol > Sketches of old Bristol > Part 7
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33
71
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
circular desks had been removed and peacefully reposed over in the garden of Deacon Holmes, on Church street, where they remained until summer suns and winter winds had prepared them for the refuelling of "Franklin stoves", the stoves of those days.
I forgot to mention that the east end of the schoolroom had two rows of straight desks, running across the room, except where separated by the aisle. These were occupied by the larger boys, some of whom were in fact young men, many of them were the sons of farmers and the benches were not filled up during the summer months but in the cold days of winter the seats were crowded. We small boys had a wholesome fear of the larger boys, still the hard knocks they gave us were tempered by the occasional gift of an apple. I recall one of these boys who during recess quietly handed his favorite young lady (there were girls and boys at this school) a ruby pippin. With a blush, ruby as the apple itself, she handed it back, saying, "I don't care for warm apples." The poor lad had kept it too long in his pocket.
I do not remember any man teacher, from the day of Mr. Osborne until that of the late Wm. C. G. Cushman. Perhaps there were intermediates but I do not recall any. Corporal pun- ishment was not only allowed but frequent, we only knew it later by that name. With us it was simply a "licking" and nothing else, and what's more it hurt. Of course the teachers chose the candi- dates for whipping, or moral suasion, according to the size of the sinner. The small boys were favored with the rod, but the "boy who could whip the teacher" took his share of good advice, and then went and did the same things over again.
There was an occasional culprit on whom neither method worked well. I have one in mind who, after a dose of each, ruler and talk, simply dropped into mischief, as Silas Wegg "dropped into poetry". He was not at all a bad boy, but just full of fun. Under the platform before mentioned, there was a long, low cupboard, where wood and shavings were kept for lighting the fire. Into this one summer afternoon the untamed urchin was stowed, other punishment having failed to restore his equilib-
72
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
rium. The door was firmly barred and the poor fellow was left to "darkness and to me". After an hour the teacher, thinking that he had been enough punished, cautiously peeped into the prison house, then with a laugh threw the door wide open. The laugh awakened the sleeping boy, now restored to strength for future usefulness. When we first saw the culprit locked in the closet we trembled, as we thought a new mode of punishment and torture was in store for us but when we learned how an hour's sleep could be obtained in freedom from lessons and cares of school hours we eagerly hoped for the same application. We were, however, never rewarded as the one imprisonment was the first and last.
Another punishment, and it was a punishment only as far as a boy's individual temperament was concerned was that of sending a boy to sit with the girls. This rule was of short duration. It failed entirely. The boys rather liked it and soon it was dropped. I recall one small boy who was often sent across the aisle and always went with willing feet. When this mode of rewarding mischief failed that one boy suddenly became a quite well- behaved lad. He was never whipped, had only an occasional reprimand and by study went through each school until he be- came one of the 45 forming the new "High School".
I remember when I entered the brick school that parents who could afford it were required to pay twenty-five cents for the purchase of books, stationery, etc., for a term of twelve weeks. The tickets of admission were issued by Mr. William Throop whose office was in the building* now standing on the south side of State street adjoining the house belonging to the late Robert S. Andrews. As the school term always commenced on Monday, Saturday was ticket day. The boys generally came to do the buy- ing and as usual the big boys were served first. The advantage of being a big boy is always understood at school and the fact of the weak being ruled by the strong still exists, not only in the village school but in the world from the beginning and will go on until the end of all things.
*The small brick building occupied by Chas. H. Spooner as a bakery for so many years.
73
-
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
I would like to speak of a peculiar characteristic of the boys of my school days. As schoolmates, as school recess playmates, we were simply boys at school but there the line was sharply drawn. Outside the hours of study we were known as "down-towners". Our friendships were formed as to where we lived, State street seemed to be the dividing line, and down-town boys seldom were chums with the up-town boys. In winter, when snow-balling was our main amusement, once we were outside the school doors, at it we went, section against section, with the war cry "run 'em up" and "run 'em down", according as to which side did the retreat- ing. There were some boys who could throw a snowball as from a rifle, others were content with hit or miss shots.
There were always some unthinking boys who made up their ammunition over night and such balls were dangerous to life and limb. Others made a last summer's marble the center of the little white missile, and these hurt when they hit an exposed part of the body. Such methods were frowned upon by the lovers of fair play on either side and were usually delivered in secret.
Before I close the history of the old desks, and the hard wooden stools on which we sat, let me tell another story of the school and the boys. The arithmetic we used, unlike the more modern ones, had no answers in the book. These answers were in a book called a "key" which was always in the teacher's charge. One day a small boy crawled through an open window into the vacant schoolroom. His heart was heavy because of undone sums and he was hunting for two keys, one to the teacher's desk and one to the arithmetic. Both were there, one in the lock and the other in the desk. While hastily copying the answers down on his slate he suddenly beheld a pair of eyes, boy's eyes, fixed upon him, just on the level of the window frame. They disappeared like a flash and the owner, feeling that he had not been seen, ran hastily around the corner of the Baptist Church. The fleeing boy was not an enemy; he was a "down-towner" like the other, and he had come on the same errand but, being too late, was bound to get even, just in fun. Later that afternoon the slates were handed in to the teacher, Miss Munro, and the sums were pronounced
74
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
correct, more or less. When the slate which had the answers taken from the key was handed in a hand instantly shot up. "Well, Billy?" said Miss Munro. "Henry took all his answers from your key, I seen him." Billy was correct in matter of fact, but his grammar was at fault. His little heart failed him when the teacher pronounced every answer on the slate wrong, not one correct. Henry had outwitted him by simply rubbing out the correct answers taken from the key and writing in his own answers.
In previous lines I wrote of the improvements made during our long vacation. A new term found us in a room we did not recognize. Everything that was "old time" and familiar had gone. There were rows of new desks, and seats with backs to them, everything looked "ship shape". The west-end platform and middle desks were gone; the room had been divided into two parts, one for the schoolroom, the other for recitations; the one desk was on a platform on the north side of the room and the rows of desks ran east and west.
There had been during the past year or two a slow but sure improvement; a more quiet element seemed to prevail, and there was either a better grade of pupils or a better spirit of feeling between the teachers and the pupils. The first day "choosing of seats" seemed to have been consigned to oblivion and the places were given out by the teacher. I recall one teacher here, a Miss Read. She had a pleasant word and a kindly smile, and I remem- ber her as one I never wished to disobey. At this school I became so well advanced in my studies, that I was soon transferred to the upstairs room in the Academy building, which school was but one grade below the best school then established, the Grammar School kept by Mr. Dennis S. Gushee.
While I remained in the "Old Brick School" there occurred two incidents worth recalling. One incident was that of the escape of one of the prisoners confined in the town jail, a man named Dickinson, arrested for robbing the D'Wolf tomb, in the private burial ground of that family, situated in the south part of the town. I remember that there was a male teacher in our school at
75
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
that time and if my memory is correct, when the crowd rushed past shouting "out of jail, man out of jail," he and some of the larger boys jumped out of the windows and joined in the pursuit, towards the fields at the east end of the Common. The rest of the scholars, excited by the noise and the flight of the head of the school, made one wild rush for open air and liberty and joined the crowd outside. The late Bennett J. Munro was keeper of the jail at the time. I was a playfellow with his children and often looked into the cells where the prisoners were confined. I well remem- ber the one above mentioned, both before and after the escape. He was soon recaptured and only enjoyed his liberty for a short time. Soon afterwards his trial took place in the Court House and I was one of the audience. During the trial an alarm of fire was raised and, with most of the audience, I rushed out. The fire, a very small one, was in the Fales house on Hope street, then occu- pied by the Rev. Thomas Fales.
The second incident I refer to was even more exciting to us scholars, that of the breaking out of the "Dorr War" in 1842. During school hours, the violent ringing of the Court House bell, and men running through the streets shouting war, war, startled teacher and scholars alike, and in an instant the schoolroom was deserted. I went with a schoolmate, Tommy Holmes, son of the Deacon, as far as the Court House, where the crowd was gather- ing, everyone asking questions which few could answer. War had been declared and that was enough excitement. We were too young to understand what was going on but we were no less in- terested in watching the soldiers arriving. We were not afraid of the muskets or cannon but there was one huge monster from which we kept a respectful distance. This we afterwards learned was the ammunition or baggage wagon. Of some of the local incidents of the war I still have a memory. I was on the wharf when the Train of Artillery went to Providence. I think they went on the King Phillip or, if before her time, on a boat called the Balloon. I also recall that the "Home Guards" were called upon to guard the town at night, as terrible stories were flying about as to what the enemy would do to Bristol. My father was
76
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
one of the guardians called upon to do night duty and I went with him to the guard house at the foot of Bradford street, I think, to get his musket, and was proud to be allowed to handle it. It was not loaded and I have since thought that he and the other guards watched all night without knowing whether their pieces were loaded or not, but the enemy never attacked the dear old town. I wonder if all Bristol boys have read the history of that war. It was of short duration and peace soon smiled again upon a united Rhode Island.
Before speaking of other schools and days I would like to say a word about our playground. What boy could ask or desire a better one? Eight acres of level land except one corner, the old, disused graveyard. The playground, then as now, was sur- rounded by a stately row of elm trees. These were our "bounds" and we could not go beyond this line without permission. We could have done so often, without it being known, but there seemed to be among us a feeling that in doing so we betrayed the trust our teacher reposed in our honor.
There was also a row of uncut granite posts on three sides of the Common, irregular in size, and over these, a long line of boys, at recess, played "leap frog". Most of the boys could "take 'em all" but the smaller lads just skipped past the "stumpers". The boy who never missed one was our hero. The waiving elms still remain and shade the children of many who played beneath them, but the granite posts, like many other old landmarks, are gone. Some years since, while on a visit to Bristol, I saw a new sea wall in the south part of the town, and I thought I could recognize some of my old "stumper" friends doing duty there.
We played many games on the old Common. Football was one and a rough game it was, not as rough as the modern game, but we had plenty of hard knocks. We played "mumble the peg" and the loser had his choice of "twelve with the blade, or six with the handle". The loser was forced to withdraw the peg from the ground with his teeth and some of us were brought low before this feat was accomplished. Of course hoops, tops and marbles had their seasons, and the present day has the same amusements.
77
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
The boy who could make his top hum the loudest was the one who was respected, and the boy who had the loudest top was named "S". Nearly every boy in school had a nickname and many of them were funny ones.
"Bow and arrow" was not a neglected game and there were some good shots among us. "Pop guns", made from goose quills, and the ammunition for them which was punched from slices of raw potatoes, will be easily recalled by many who read these lines.
From the new benches of this school I was transferred to the Academy upstairs department. I do not remember what consti- tuted fitness for these transfers from one public school to another. Probably because we had exhausted the text books and were thus given a chance at a higher grade.
In 1830 a committee was appointed by the town to purchase the Academy of Mr. James D'Wolf. The building was erected in 1791 for the use of a private school. From time to time the town had hired a portion of it, when the number of scholars was too large to be accommodated in the Old Brick School House.
I found the arrangement of desks and seats the same here as in the school I had left, running from east and west, with the teacher's desk on the south side. The bell rope hung in the middle of the room and it was always a temptation for some mis- chievious boy to give it a pull. This school was under far better discipline than any previous ones and the teachers and pupils seemed to be more in accord. There were some unruly boys and saucy girls but the teachers, ladies from some of the oldest and best Bristol families, were patient and kind.
The ordinary method of punishment was by tapping the open hand with a ruler. When the boy was too large to be punished by the teacher he was sent down stairs to Mr. Gushee, who could "do the right thing in the right place". Sometimes, when a strong example was needed, Mr. Gushee came upstairs and the punish- ment was witnessed by the scholars, just to show us we were not master and that obedience to rules would confer happiness to each one of us. In this school, singing was taught us, and we had some good voices. "The boy that can sing, and will not sing,
78
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
must be made to sing," was the rule. In those days there were parents who preferred to whip their sons at home, "if the teachers would only tell them in time". But the teachers often "laid on" while the example was freshly needed and were not so sure that home discipline was certain. These parents generally turned up during school hours for an argument with the teachers and these performances were ever our delight. One day a culprit was handed down to Mr. Gushee for a well deserved reproof. We at once incited his brother to go home and inform his mother and, as we did not dare to let him go by the stairs, we dropped him from the window. Luckily there was a heap of ashes there for him to fall upon or he might have been killed. The meeting between the boy's mother and the master was a very lively one while it lasted and was just what we had counted upon. School hours were from nine in the morning until noon, with a recess of fifteen minutes. The afternoon session was from half past one until half past four during the winter months. During the sum- mer the hour of closing was five o'clock. We were called to our duties by the old bell which, after the Academy was sold, was transferred to the east end of the "Old Brick", where it still calls to studies the children of a later generation. A few years since, while riding on the "back road", past the farm of Bishop Howe, I saw over amongst the trees what seemed to be a queer looking summer house. On closer inspection I found it to be the old Academy belfry, placed there, no doubt, by one of the oldest liv- ing pupils of that time-honored school. I have always had a kindly feeling towards the Academy. Some of my happiest years were passed within its walls.
Another association here presents itself. I have now before me a faded and time-worn piece of paper, too small to be called a letter, which I have treasured for years. It is in the handwriting of one of my forebears. It reads:
"Mount Hope Academy, Nov. 26, 1806.
"Dear Sir-The scholars under my instruction will exhibit in public in the Academy hall to-morrow afternoon, to commence
79
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
at half past one o'clock. The parents of the children and proprie- tors of the Academy will attend in the afternoon and the younger class of people in the evening. I have made this arrangement purposely to accommodate you, knowing that your health would not admit of your attendance in the evening. If you can make it convenient to honor us with your company please to send me word by the bearer and I will reserve you a good seat.
"I am yours,
"A. Bourne"
This is directed to Hon. William Bradford, Esq.
While I was in this school Bristol people were wise enough, or rich enough, to purchase a new fire engine. There were four fire engines then owned by the town, namely, Nos. 1, 2, 3, and Hy- draulion. The first three were small and we dignified them as "tubs". No. I was "housed at the foot of Bradford street, No. 2 at the foot of State street and No. 3 at the foot of Church street. I wonder where they are now. The Hydraulion still exists, but is, I fear, long past its usefulness. Even in the olden days it often was out of order when most needed. During a fire the "tubs" were fed from leather buckets, each householder being by law required to keep two and hurry with them to the scene of fire. Water was taken from any accessible point but mostly from the bay. Long lines of men and boys passed up the full buckets on one side and the empty ones down the line to be refilled. This was slow and tedious work, more so on a cold winter's night.
The new engine was "suction" and a great improvement over the old system. Most of the fires previous to the year 1850 were in the district north of State street and west of Hope street and the several engines found an ample supply of water from the bay. The new engine was called " King Philip No. 4" and was, upon arrival, given a temporary home in Mr. Perry's barn at the foot of Constitution street. When it came, school was at once dis- missed to give the boys an opportunity to welcome the newcomer. We at once pronounced her a beauty and she was all that. How we longed for the time when we could wear the "red shirt and fireman's cap, and "work the brakes". This company was the first
80
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
uniformed one in Bristol and in the Fourth of July parades the "fire laddies" were the pride of the town. No. 4, after many years of faithful service, gave way to the new steamer which is honored by bearing the same name. The date of the new arrival was 1844, and it was in constant use for about forty years. I do not know how long it was housed in Mr. Perry's barn but for many years it was housed on State street, south side, just east of Hope street.
A company of boy firemen from Providence having visited Bristol and "sent a stream" over the sugar house, we tried to get up a boy company and asked to have one of the "tubs" for our use but the attempt was a failure and never came to an issue. If I am correct in my memories, the first foreman of No. 4 was Major Jacob Babbitt. Taking the date of the arrival of the new engine, I find I was about six years in going from my first school, "Aunt Martha's", up to my being a pupil here, in the "up stairs" of the Academy. From there I was transferred to the care of Mr. Dennis S. Gushee, "down stairs" in the same building. This was the highest grade of school then known in Bristol. Mr. Gushee became teacher of the Grammar school in 1836 and continued to teach until 1849. He was not a believer in the "Lancasterian system" and the schoolrooms were therefore remodeled and arranged after the more modern plan. During the days of public schools there were a number of private schools in town. Some of these were held in the Court House and one, I think the scholars were mostly out of town boys, was held for a short time in the house now owned by Captain Miller, on the corner of Hope and Church streets. We knew the boys and rather kept away from them, as we thought them a little too high-toned for us country lads. I recall one of the boys who held us spellbound by telling us that his father was a merchant of Providence. Bristol fathers were generally shopkeepers. One day a sharp-eyed Bristol boy went up to the "City" and brought back the news that the boy's father had a sign out, "Merchant Tailor". It made us feel better, we made it a point to let him know that we had found him out.
81
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
I do not know that the old English system of "fagging" ever held a place in our schools but of course the smaller boys had to stand 'round. Sometimes a little fellow showed fight and would tackle a big tyrant. We liked to keep this warlike chap on our side, but somehow, when he became an expert warrior, he felt that his place was with the tyrants and he turned against his old friends.
At the school of Mr. Gushee we learned what real discipline was. Here for the first time I saw the cowhide which was a supplementary pleasure to the old-fashioned ruler. The "cow- hide" was blue in color and was known as the "blue pill". I do not recall ever having been a subject of a flogging at any school but the blue rod was kept in active service and the boys always said "it hurt". As I look back on my school days I am convinced that there were boys who were proof against kind words and well deserved this harsh kind of punishment. In this school I first saw the boys strike back, for there were many pupils who could not calmly take a "hiding". I never saw a boy, however big or pugnacious, that the teacher was afraid of, although he some- times came off second best. A lively tussle between teacher and scholar was fun for the lookers-on, and boy-like, we always sided with the victor, man or boy.
In these modern days of steam heating, purer ventilation and other improvements, I look back with wonder on the rooms we occupied. One stove, and that a small one, was our winter friend. A feeble one indeed for the boys who had seats on the north side but a warm friend for those who were near the stove. I do not think we ever complained of feeling cold but there were many winter days when we sat there with the mercury at the freezing point or lower. Our fifteen minutes recess enabled us to warm up, either by "hugging the stove" or by vigorous outdoor exer- cise. Our amusements here were those of former schools, tops, marbles, etc. The south side of the old Methodist Church build- ing was our favorite playground for these smaller games but the Common was for our football games. The modern terms and rules for these games were then unknown. No umpire told us we
82
SKETCHES OF OLD BRISTOL
were wrong; we went in for fun and we had it. We just kicked the ball from one end of the Common to the other, on every point of the compass. When the ball was kicked past the granite posts at either side of the playground, the game was ended. Running with the ball or slugging was unknown but "kicking shins" was not barred, as some readers of these lines can testify. One foot- ball term I recall, "camp her out, camp her in". This meant if during the game, the ball rose to a certain height and was caught in the hands of any player, he had the chance to "camp it", that is, to kick it high in the air over the heads of the crowd and this was a gain in distance over the opponents. If the game was near the bounds on either side, to "camp her out" was not considered square play and when this was done, the other side could "camp her in ", and the game went on from where the ball fell.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.