USA > Rhode Island > The "Old Stone Bank" history of Rhode Island, Vol. I > Part 13
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
90
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
DeWolf the rest. Barely a month after war was declared, the "Yankee" sailed from Bristol with Oliver Wilson as Captain.
Captain Wilson was only 26 years old, but events proved him to be just the kind of able, fearless, well-balanced man the job re- quired. He headed the first two of the "Yan- kee's" six cruises. On his first venture, Cap- tain Wilson literally packed the ship with men, the crew numbering 115. The "Yan- kee" lost no time in getting down to busi- ness, heading directly for Nova Scotia, where the first prize was captured. This full-rigged ship, the "Royal Bounty," was nearly four times the size of the "Yankee," and was taken after a running fight in which three Americans were wounded, two English killed, and seven wounded. Thus began a busy three months for the energetic Captain Wilson and his crew. In all, ten prizes were taken, one of which, the "Francis," netted her captors more than $200,000. This cruise more than paid for the "Yankee" and gave a dividend of over $700 a share.
The privateering business was operated on a sharing basis in which all hands par- ticipated. One-half of the net went to the owners, the other half being divided amongst the Captain, his officers and the crew. In addition to numerous special con- cessions, the Captain received 16 shares ; the Ist Lieutenant, nine shares; the 2nd and 3d Lieutenants and Surgeon, eight shares each; Marines, six shares each; Carpenter, Boat- swain and Gunner, four each; Boatswain's Mates, two and one-half each. The balance was divided equally among the ship's com- pany, excepting landsmen and raw hands, who got one and one-half shares each, and the boys drew one share each. Ten shares were reserved for distribution by the Cap- tain for special rewards. There were also various bonuses for lookouts, the first man aboard a prize, etc. Provision was likewise made for injured men, according to a defi- nite schedule.
The mutual character of the enterprise kept all hands on the alert, and provided the incentive necessary to make service attrac- tive in such a dangerous adventure.
The second cruise under Captain Wilson netted $338.40 a share, while the third, with Elisha Snow in command, showed only
$173.54 a share. Captain Thomas Jones fared poorly on the fourth cruise, when he was instructed to watch for homeward bound vessels on the Grand Banks. He managed to get only two prizes to port, and the dividend was but $17.29 for each share. Captain Snow had a hard time getting a crew for his next cruise, the "Yankee's" fifth, because of the lack of profit on the fourth one. He managed to get away with a crew, but some of these deserted before the ship got out of Bristol harbor and swam ashore. This cruise came to a sudden end when a British man- of-war drove the "Yankee" into New Bed- ford, where the crew took French leave al- most to a man.
Only four prizes were captured, three be- ing of no value whatever. The fourth, a full rigged ship, the "San José Indiano," reached Portland, Maine, and with its cargo sold for more than half a million dollars, thus con- verting this ill-starred voyage into the most profitable made by any privateer during the war. The owners realized $223,313.10; Captain Snow drew $15,789.69. Two black boys with the distinctive names of Jack Jibsheet and Cuffee Cock-roach, who partic- ipated in all the "Yankee" cruises, were enriched to the extent of $738.19 and $1,121.88, respectively.
The outcome of this cruise made evident the profit to be gained, and there was no difficulty in assembling a crew for the final cruise, which was captained by William C. Jenckes. The owners, realizing that the busi- ness was becoming more hazardous, told Captain Jenckes in his instructions: "You must depend principally upon the goods you take on board to make your cruise, as the prizes you man will be very uncertain." Out of five prizes captured in 105 days only one brought money to the captors. This, the brig "Courtney," netted $70,000. One, the "General Wellesley," looked like another "San José Indiano," and her value was estimated at $200,000, on her way to port in Charleston, S. C. However, she was lost on Charleston Bar, with two of her prize crew and 52 of her original crew of Lascars.
This brought to a close the career of the "Yankee" as a private armed vessel of war. In those three eventful years she cap- tured more than $5,000,000 worth of British
91
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
property, and reaped for the little town of Bristol profits of $1,000,000 from her six cruises. No other American privateer ever approached such a record, and Mr. DeWolf was enabled to balance his books in a highly satisfactory manner.
This narrative comes to a most fitting close with the words penned by Noah Jones, Captain Wilson's Clerk on the second cruise:
"THUS ENDS OUR CRUISE.
Honor and shame from no condition arise. Act well your part, there all the Honor lies."
COMMODORE OLIVER HAZARD PERRY
TT was early in 1813 when Oliver Hazard . Perry, a young officer of Newport, then in command of a flotilla of gunboats, was called to command a fleet on Lake Erie. At this time the fleet had not yet been built.
Taking with him a number of ship carpen- ters, he proceeded to Presque Isle (now Erie, Pa.), where he built and assembled a fleet of nine small vessels. Perry had with him eight officers and eleven petty officers and seaman from Newport. He met Chauncey, an American navel officer at Albany, N. Y., and together they went in a sleigh through the wilderness to Sackett's Harbor.
Perry arrived at Presque Isle in March, and as quickly as possible built four vessels. Five others were taken from Black Rock, near Buffalo, where they had been altered from merchantmen.
Early in May the three smaller vessels were launched, and on the 24th of that month two brigs were floated. The whole fleet was finished by the 24th of July and consisted of the brig "Lawrence" (the flag ship) ; brig "Niagara," twenty guns; brig "Caledonia," three guns; schooner "Ariel," four guns; schooner "Scorpion," two guns and two swivels; sloop "Trippe," one gun; schooner "Tigress," one gun; schooner "Porcupine," one gun.
A British squadron on the lake was men- acing the little fleet, and Perry found great difficulty in getting men and supplies for his vessels. "Think of my situation," he
wrote Chauncey, "the enemy in sight, the vessels under my command more than suf- ficient and ready to make sail, and yet ob- liged to bite my fingers with vexation for want of men."
He was soon partially gratified by the ar- rival from Black Rock of one hundred men under Captain Elliott, and early in August he went out on the lake although he was not fully prepared for vigorous action. On the 19th he met Harrison with his flagship and arrangements were made for the fall campaign.
On a bright morning, September 10, while cruising about the lake, a sail was seen from the mast head of the "Lawrence," and the British fleet appeared on the horizon. The opposing forces were not far from equal in strength and the battle began at noon at long range. As the two fleets came nearer and nearer the "Lawrence" bore the brunt of the battle until she lay almost a wreck upon the water. The deck was a mass of wreckage and it needed a heroic soul to con- tinue the conflict.
The other vessels had fought nobly, ex- cept the "Niagara," the staunchest one of the fleet, which had kept outside and was yet un- hurt. As the "Niagara" drew near the "Law- rence," Perry donned the uniform of his rank, that he might properly receive the British Commander as a prisoner and took down his broad pennant and the banner bearing the memorable words, "Don't give
92
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
up the ship". He entered a boat with his brother, Matthew Calbraith Perry (then fourteen years of age), and with four brawny sailors at the oars, was pulled away on a perilous trip to the "Niagara." Perry stood upright in the boat, the pennant and banner partly wrapped about him. Barclay, the British commander, had been wounded, and when informed of Perry's daring act and realizing what the consequences would be if he reached the "Niagara," he ordered big and little guns to be trained upon the row boat. Amid this shower of shot the boat moved on for about fifteen minutes and the gallant commander reached the "Niag- ara" in safety.
Hoisting his pennant he dashed through the enemy's line and eight minutes later the colors of the British flag ship were struck, all but two of the fleet surrendering. These made an attempt to escape, but were pur-
sued and brought back late in the evening by the "Scorpion."
Victory once assured, Perry sat down, took from his pocket an old letter and rest- ing it upon the top of his cap, wrote his fa- mous message to General Harrison: "We have met the enemy and they are ours; two ships, two brigs, one schooner and one sloop."
For this gallant exploit Perry received the thanks of the government, a gold medal was presented to him, and the Common Council of Albany presented him with a beautiful sword. Another gold medal was presented to Captain Elliott, who com- manded the "Niagara." and a silver medal to each man who took part. In this engage- ment the Americans lost twenty-seven killed and ninety-six wounded. The British loss was about two hundred killed and six hun- dred prisoners.
THE GREAT GALE OF 1815
H AVE you ever stopped to examine the small metal plate that is firmly im- bedded in the stone foundation of the Hos- pital Trust Building, near the corner on the Westminster Street side? Have you ever read the words that are inscribed on a tablet placed on the outside walls of the Chamber of Commerce Building, on the College Hill side? These markers have reference to an event in Rhode Island history that occurred over a century ago and is talked of to this day, The year, 1815, is a significant one in the history of this State, for in the fall of that year Providence was the victim of one of the strangest pranks of Nature ever re- corded-the Great Gale of 1815.
Business was on the upgrade in Provi- dence; everyone talked prosperity, and the sound of flying chips and rumbling drays spelled activity at the ship-yards, in the work-shops and on the wharves. Ships'
keels were being laid by the score, the ware- houses were filled to the rafters, and no threatening cloud appeared on the bright horizon of the commercially world-wide business and prosperity.
On the 22nd of September the old familiar "line storm" seemed to have ar- rived for its annual fall mischief. When the people went to bed that night they an- ticipated the usual results; the wind was in the northeast quarter and rain fell heavily. During the night the wind in- creased in force, and dawn found the wind veered to the east. Increasing with fright- ful force, the wind gradually worked around to the southeast, where, from 10 to 12 o'clock it blew a hurricane, its power impossible to describe.
At noon the wind changed suddenly to the southwest, calmed down, and the sun shone brightly on unbelievable ruin and de-
93
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
vastation. The center of the city of Provi- dence was a wreck, after two hours of pun- ishment by a vicious and unrelenting ele- ment. During the height of the gale the water had stood twelve feet higher than the usual limit of flood tide. Water had extended well up toward Benefit Street to the east, and nearly to Aborn Street to the west. When the hurricane burst upon the bay, a large East India ship, the "Ganges," owned by Brown & Ives, a craft of over 520 tons, broke her moorings and crashed into the Weybosset Bridge. Through the bridge she hurtled in mad flight, followed by a panicky procession of small boats and wreckage. The bowsprit of the "Ganges" pierced the upper story of the Washing- ton Insurance Building with a murderous lunge, and she finally ended her strange voyage on the shores of the old Cove, a hopeless wreck, never again to raise her sails.
Smith Hill, adjacent to the Cove, and the shores of the Moshassock River were lit- tered with wreckage carried inland by the flood. Twenty-seven ships of various types and tonnage went through the gap in the bridge, little of which was left after the waters had receded and the wind had calmed. Nearly every vessel in the harbor had gone in that direction, and one sloop had gone as far as North Providence. Only two vessels in the harbor held fast to their moorings; the rest had been dashed to de- struction or driven behind some sheltering wharf or shore-front building. One strange sight was the adventurous sloop that made its way up Eddy Street, between Weybosset and Westminster Streets, and remained there when the water lowered, like a ship in dry-dock, its proud mast towering above a three-story brick building.
The gale spent most of its fury on the precious wharves that lined the shore-front. Valuable cargoes, loading gear and ships' stores were swept into oblivion. Very few of the stores that lined the shores on both sides of the river and around as far as India Point escaped the deadly force of the storm. Those that were not wrecked or washed away were damaged beyond repair. All of the downtown streets were blocked with an impassable accumulation of spars, casks, lumber and scows. The minute the angry waters began to recede, crowds of victims sought to recover their property and sal- vage their belongings. Many houses were carried from their foundations, while from other dwellings, every article of furniture, clothing and food was lost.
The old Second Baptist Meeting House succumbed and went to pieces under the combined force of the wind and waves, while the tall spire of the historic First Baptist Church wavered and bent to the blast, but did not fall. The rest of the town shared in the misfortune that befell the water-front. Streets were filled with the ruins of roofs, chimneys, trees and fences. Bridges were floated from their piers, over five hundred buildings de- stroyed, and the resulting loss amounted to nearly two million dollars. Fortunately, only two persons lost their lives in the castastrophe. In spite of the terrific loss sustained by the enterprising citizens of the community, active steps were immedi- ately taken to clear up the town and start afresh. New business organizations were founded, manufacturing took on a new lease of life, and the stunned city entered with hope and courage into an era of in- dustrial and commercial prosperity.
94
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
PROVIDENCE IN 1819
T THE first quarter of the 19th century marked many vital developments in the growth and well-being of Providence. It had already gained recognition and fame as a great shipping port, and prosperous merchants had built themselves great man- sions in the heart of the city. Its popu- lation was about 10,000 and increasing at such a rate that the inhabitants, we imagine, amused themselves in watching the census until Providence should exceed its worthy but slower rival, Newport.
By 1819, the city was on a still firmer foundation, physically, commercially, and financially. It had suffered two setbacks: the War of 1812 and the great gale of 1815. The War had caused a temporary lull in shipping, for goods were not safe at this time on the seas; and the gale, which came in the midst of the stabilization following peace, wrought fabulous ruin in the very heart of the city. The damage by water alone was tremendous, and besides that, a terrific wind spared none of the weaker structures, and the heavy objects which floated on the relentless flood battered every object in their path. A 520 ton East India ship was torn from her moorings to smash through the Weybosset Bridge and hurtle on through the second story of the Washington Insurance Building, breaking her way through with her bowsprit, like some sav- age beast. All the spices and rich silks and foreign food-stuffs were swept away from their stores on the wharves by the torrent. The ruin was incalculable.
Restoration, however, was soon begun, for the hardy spirit of the Rhode Islanders was not to be daunted. Within a month there was a passable temporary structure to re- place the Weybosset Bridge, and shortly afterward rebuilding was going on every-
where possible. In fact, there was not only rebuilding, but improvement. Many of the wharves had become inadequate, so that larger ones were built, and at this time South Water Street and Dyer Street were constructed.
Let us go back for a few moments to a more peaceful scene, and look at Provi- dence as it was before the flood and before the War. It was in those days essentially a town, but it was awakening to the fact that it had possibilities for a city. It was adolescent, a bit gawky, we might say, growing a little too long for its trousers and foreseeing the day when it would have a permanent bass voice and a beard that would be long, thick, and wiry.
At that time, Pine Street ran nearly along the waterfront, and all the streets which ran from Weybosset Street towards the river were wharves. The longest one at this time occupied the space which is now Cus- tom House Street, and was called Long Wharf. At these wharves were moored all the ships which came in from the Far East, from Africa, Europe, and the West Indies. They made excellent playgrounds for boys, and one of the pastimes used to consist of prying open the bungholes of molasses casks with small sticks and sucking the sweet fluid. They never approached their quarry by going onto the wharf from the street. They would go to another wharf, take off their clothes and hide them care- fully, then swim to their alloted destination. When discovered, as they usually were, they had merely to dive off the wharf and return to their clothes. This was never considered a very serious offense, and was not committed by any particular class of youngsters. All seemed to take part, and
95
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
the retail merchants in town were rather grateful for these little thefts for they knew that the casks of the best molasses would have the most gone from them. Thus they could judge the grade of it without having to taste it.
Near the corner of Pine and Dorrance Streets once stood the Second Baptist Church. At that time the river was closer at hand and there was a strip of sandy bank, gently sloping into the water, which was here quite pure and clear, and at this point baptism by immersion was practiced throughout the year. In winter time the ice often had to be broken for the rite.
The young were instructed in those days by the traditional schoolmaster who spared not the rod and kept the child unspoiled. Teaching at that time was not a particular- ly honorable profession, for it paid very poorly and no man with ambition stayed in it long. There were no grades-every- one was in the single room.
From the Old Brick Schoolhouse on Meeting Street the pupils could look out, if they wanted to be reminded of punishment, on the Court House Parade, and witness the penalty of the whipping-post, or see a prisoner in stocks and pillory. These methods were abolished shortly afterward. Growing out of its adolescence, Providence began to turn from commerce to manu- facturing. Eighteen hundred and seventeen has always been a memorable date because
of the introduction of the power loom by David Wilkinson.
Inland transportation was improving at this time. A new stage service went from Boston to New York in three days instead of a week, as it had formerly. Providence and Hartford were the principal stopping places. Beside this, there were "palatial packets," as they were called, which made the trip by water in from two days to two weeks.
A thrill was given the inhabitants late in May, 1817, when the steamer, "Firefly," ar- rived in the harbor. This was the first steamboat to round Point Judith, and the first of its kind ever to be seen in these waters. Later in the year it brought Pres- ident Monroe to Providence, and for some time ran regularly between Providence and Newport, later being abandoned because it was too expensive to operate.
Providence was beginning to grow up. It had survived two great blows, and in its recovery had gained more strength. Busi- ness was stabilized, power looms had come in, steam was beginning to be used on the sea, and prosperity was everywhere.
For the first time in history, perhaps, the laboring classes as a whole were not gen- erally impoverished. It was to safeguard their money and aid them that in 1819 the Providence Institution for Savings was founded with Thomas P. Ives as its first President.
CAPITAL PUNISHMENT
0 N Wednesday, March 28, 1832, the Su- preme Court in Providence began one of its most memorable murder trials. It lasted three days, at the end of which a ver- dict of guilty was returned by the jury, and the prisoner was sentenced to be hung on the first day of June.
The murder was a gruesome one, as all murders are; but, being of such propor-
tions, the thrill of the trial was equally great. The culprit met his just punish- ment. Newspaper accounts do not give full details of the trial, but they supply much, and we may imagine the eager spectators wandering into the courtroom and taking their seats; the entrance of the grave, serious-minded jurymen, followed by Chief Justice Eddy in his periwig. On the one
96
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
side, in front of the bench, was the prose- cuting attorney, A. C. Greene, Attorney- General of the State, and opposite him were the defense: the prisoner and his attorneys, Samuel Ames, Peter Pratt, and Joseph L. Tillinghast. (Out of respect to any inno- cent descendants of those involved in the trial, all further names will be fictitious.) The account preserves no arguments made either by the prosecution or the attorneys for the defense; but there are testimonies of the witnesses in abundance.
The trial is being held for the murder of Albert Martin, which happened on the 20th of September in the preceding year. Martin was found decapitated in a wood near a cart path, and Amos and Tracy Chatterton were arrested and later indicted as the murderers. Amos is now on trial, and after the prelim- inary remarks and proceedings by both sides, the witnesses are called to the stand. The first is Julia Green.
Miss Green said that on the evening of September 18, she, in the company of the Chatterton brothers, was walking through the woods past a cabin where Martin lived. Without any warning, and for no apparent reason, Amos Chatterton, seeing Martin a few feet ahead of them, rushed upon him, and immediately began to beat him violently with a stick. Miss Green then testified that she and Tracy Chatterton hastened from the scene.
When Gustav Smith was called to the stand, he testified that he saw the prisoner on the 20th of September, two days after the grim beating related by Miss Green, and that the prisoner had a bloody shirt sleeve. Smith inquired as to the cause of the blood, and Chatterton said that he had had a fight with William Greely, and had knocked him down several times-seven, to be exact- and the last blow drew blood. He told some- one else later that it was pigeon blood, and to a third person complained that it had come from his nose.
Then another witness, John Meerman, arose and virtually betrayed the prisoner by repeating a confession that the latter had made concerning the whole deed. In this confession Chatterton stated that he was drunk at the time, and that he and his brother had gone out and beaten Martin's head with a club, after which they went home, but returned later. This proof of
guilt was reinforced by another confession which Chandler Harrison, the next witness, related to the court. Chatterton had told Harrison that on the return to Martin that evening, the injured man begged for water. "Curse you," said Chatterton, "I will give you water," but instead, he decapitated him.
On Saturday, the 31st of March, the ver- dict of guilty was returned by the jury, and his sentence for hanging was pronounced two days later. The date was set for June 1.
The hanging took place in a hollow near the present site of Roger Williams Park. From all accounts, the scene was a natural amphitheatre, and afforded ample room for the thousands of spectators that gathered to witness the final administration of justice. Turning to the newspaper account at the time, we read:
"The prisoner was attired in a white mus- lin gown, spotted with black, white stock- ings, and black slippers. At the place of execution the warrant for his execution was read by the sheriff, and an appropriate prayer offered to the throne of mercy by Rev. Mr. Pattison. The prisoner expressed to the sheriff a desire to address the spec- tators, but his strength appeared to have failed him. After every preparation had been completed he was informed by the sheriff that the time had arrived when the execution was to take place and desired him to give the fatal signal by dropping a hand- kerchief. This he did in a few seconds, and the sheriff at a quarter to 11 o'clock cut the cord, and in a moment he was suspended in the air, a victim to the violated laws of his country."
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.