USA > Rhode Island > The "Old Stone Bank" history of Rhode Island, Vol. IV > Part 29
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
Editor Foss, on the spur of the moment, undertook the writing of a witty article. The reaction from the public was so sur- prisingly favorable that he decided to con- tinue to edit the column. His humor was not of a subtle nature but it was rich and wholesome, marked to a great degree with the explosive chuckle and the unrestrained guffaw. He became known as the "Funny Man" to thousands of readers, and New York publishers wasted but little time retaining his services as a contributor to such nationally-known periodicals as Judge, Puck, Tidbits, and also to the New York Sun.
In 1887, Foss married Carrie Maria Conant, who was the daughter of the greatly beloved Reverend Henry W. Co- nant of Providence. This same year he became editor of the Yankee Blade in Boston, and, but a short time later, be- came affiliated with the Boston Globe as an editorial writer. For six years he wrote a poem a week for the Blade, and these poems proved to be so thoroughly enter- taining that he was later called upon to write one a day for a large newspaper syndicate. Because of his great interest in books and because of his friendly, mag- netic personality, Foss was selected from a score of literary men to become the libra- rian of the Public Library in Somerville, Massachusetts. This was in the year 1898, and the library grew rapidly under his direction. In 1904 he was elected President of the Massachusetts Library Club, and, three years later, his alma mater, Brown University, conferred upon him the honorary degree of Master of Arts for his success in the field of literature.
The years spent at the library in Somer- ville, until his death in 1911, were the most fruitful of his life. This association al- lowed him sufficient leisure to read, write and lecture practically at will, and brought to a close an uninterrupted struggle that he had experienced during the first forty years of his life - the struggle of hard, unremitting toil. Sam Walter Foss was a noble character. He was a strong, heavy set man of middle height, with deep twin- kling eyes and an abundance of dark wavy hair. A heavy mustache failed to screen his contagious smile - his entire manner always retained the simple, unaffected
SAM WALTER
FOSS
1858 1911
THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
FOSS
GRAVE OF SAM WALTER FOSS - NORTH BURIAL GROUND.
225
226
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
trace of a New Hampshire farm boy. How true to life is the beautiful bronze medal- lion by Richard Recchia now hanging in the John Hay Library in Providence, how fittingly this marvelously life-like portrait is inscribed with one of his own verses: -
"A man who was made of clay And built of the stuff of today A man who came up from the throng, Came up from the weak and was strong, - And sweet as the breath of the hay."
Mr. Foss was a favorite figure in Provi- dence, and he wrote several poems for special occasions on the Hill. He was in great demand as a lecturer, possessing a fine voice and great ability as an orator, qualified to speak on a great variety of subjects. He was so friendly, so natural, and always possessed such an earnest fellow-feeling for those who were less for- tunate than himself - likewise he held no use for the idlers and those indulged in self- pity. Well did he realize the shortcomings and the powers of men when he wrote: -
"They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong, - wise, foolish, . and so am I."
Strangely enough, Foss never took his poetry very seriously, perhaps because his life was so full of activity, perhaps because his intimates were more fond of a laugh than they were of purely poetic writings.
At any rate he came to be known as a great American poet - and, as the years pass by more and more of us turn to him for a guiding philosophy of life. A western editor once said, "Foss writes poems that men cut out and carry about in their pockets, - common everyday men, mind you, who find in his rhymes something that appeals to them powerfully."
Late in the year 1910, Foss was stricken with a liver ailment, and no doubt, it was this sudden sickness that prompted him to pen his lovely poem "The Trumpets," and this he did two months before his death on February 26, 1911. He fought to live bravely until the end - going to his desk at the Somerville Library but two days before his death - and writing his last newspaper poem entitled "Opti- mism" that appeared in print on the very day of his funeral. This he did when he realized that his days in this life which he loved so well were near their end.
With the passing of years the simple grave in Providence will become a shrine for those who love or will learn to love the matchless expressions of one who lived a plain, wholesome life. There lies the mortal remains of Sam Walter Foss, sleep- ing in quiet company with a host of other silent men and women who have made immortal contributions to the peace, hap- piness and progress of this nation.
BICYCLES AND WHEELMEN
Have you seen the new 1887 Silent "Star" Roadster? No "Headers" on this bicycle. Holds the World's record for 24 hours, 305 miles. Easiest running bicycle made. You can ride night or day on this machine and not take a "Header." You can ride on and off curbstones, down steps; in fact anywhere with perfect safety.
HAT was this? Simply the advertise- ment of Campbell's, a leading bi- cycle agency of this city in 1887. At this time bicycles were on the throne of popu-
larity. They were not primarily a vehicle for children as they are today. On the contrary, everyone was riding them. It was the prevailing sport in which nearly everyone could indulge. Campbell & Co. alone carried forty-nine different styles of bicycles, dubbed with all sorts of colorful titles . .. the Paragon, Outing, New Rapid, Little Giant, etc. That should mean something in itself.
The first bicycles to be introduced into Providence were of English manufacture, imported by a few of the city's young men in the early '70's. These were high-wheel- ers, that is, machines with a large wheel from 56 to 60 inches high in front and a smaller one about one fifth that size in the
227
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
rear. The cyclist's seat was over the front wheel which gave the vehicle poor balance. For that reason it was more often than not that a rider, upon striking a stone or small obstruction in the road, would be pitched head forward, landing in the road in ad- vance of his machine, the distance depend- ing upon his initial speed. "Headers" of this sort, common enough of course, were always disconcerting and usually embar- rassing, and it must have been with a sigh of relief that many of the ardent but less skillful devotees of the sport hailed the later "safety" bicycles.
A good deal of the cycling at first was carried on as something of a novelty in rinks. These rinks were also used for roller skating, an indoor sport that had its period of extreme popularity a little after the advent of the bicycle. One of these rinks . was located on the second floor of a manu- facturing building on Pine Street, just a little above Summer Street, while another, exceedingly well patronized, was in a hall above the Providence and Worcester end of the Union Passenger Station. The scene in one of these rinks must have been somewhat similar to that in the present- day rinks for those little electric chair- cars, a feature of many an amusement park. In both cases the riders would un- doubtedly do more colliding and bumping than straight riding. The fee for this sport was usually at the rate of 50g an hour.
In 1878, a new high-wheeler was intro- duced into this city by one Albert G. Car- penter, a gentleman of cycling vision who had the means to gratify his ambitions. At a cost of $150 he imported this new type of bicycle from England and imme- diately was able to bask in the envy of his friends. This machine did not differ in pure design from other high-wheelers of the period but it had various refinements which made it a distinct advance over its predecessors. Perhaps most important of all was the fact that it was intended for highway use, a first step away from the practice of riding in rinks. It had a front wheel of 56 inches in diameter with the customary little one in the rear, but both wheels had small, solid rubber tires.
Mr. Carpenter found the machine rather difficult to ride, particularly outside on the rough roads of the day, and had to put in
many hours of painful practice before he felt confident enough to appear in public. But his devotion to the cause brought him rich rewards in acclaim when he first ap- peared on the streets. The result was that a new vogue started, and others imme- diately put in applications for similar bi- cycles. The demand was sufficiently press- ing to enable Ernest C. Churchill and Wil- liam H. Richmond to establish a profitable bicycle agency for this particular type of machine. Later, Charles H. Handy took over their business and established a rid- ing school where beginners could learn the rudiments and fine points of the new art.
This type of tall wheel was generally known as an "ordinary," a name which also seems to have been given in the past to the early taverns. As a sort of outdoor track or course where practicing could be done with a reasonable amount of safety, beginners used the promenade around the old Cove. As soon as they became profi- cient there, they ventured out upon the city streets. Of course there were not many riders at first, not many more than a score; but few as their number may have been they caused considerable excitement about town. They rode everywhere, on sidewalks as well as streets, and earned the ire of the city authorities and all the owners of horses. Pedestrians said that their rights upon the highway were being encroached upon. Horses shied at the strange new machines. In short, bi- cycles and their riders were classed as public nuisances. Police were given orders to shoot all pedalers away from busy streets and off the sidewalks. The result on the part of the cyclists was the forma- tion of the Providence Bicycle Club in 1879, hoping through organization to gain rights that seemed to be denied to them as individuals.
In particular, the club took up the matter of the rights of the road and the annoyance of bicycles as far as horse owners were concerned. For some time various horse owners had been sending letters to the editor of the Providence Journal complaining of the bicycle rider's lack of courtesy. The president of the club replied that every member was a thorough gentleman and offered to break in the horses of any driver to the sight
228
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
Courtesy, Town Criers of Rhode Island
HOTEL DORRANCE, WESTMINSTER AND DORRANCE STREETS, RAZED IN 1918.
of a bicycle. One man accepted the offer and took his horses on the road out near Mashapaug Pond. A very thrilling hour ensued but the horses did become well acquainted with a bicycle:
The decision of a Rhode Island judge that bicycles were to be classed as vehicles helped the cause of the cyclists tremen- dously and increased their road rights. The Providence Bicycle Club as an organ- ization was a helpful predecessor of the automobile for, through its influence, many improvements were made upon the roads. Its members increased very rapidly and included many people of importance. In the early '80's the name was changed to Rhode Island Wheelmen. And before the decade was far advanced, bicycling had reached a stage of importance suffi- cient to be honored with a weekly column in the Providence Journal.
In the 1880's racing on bicycles began to rise to popularity. The Providence
club scheduled many meets and put on racing as entertainment every week at Park Garden. In addition prolonged road runs and exhibition drills began to come into vogue. During such runs and drills the club members organized like a military company, having a captain, lieutenants, and bugler. Then they would carry out strict military maneuvers at the direc- tion of the officers and the call of the bugle. They had a clubhouse, neat uni- forms, and all the ornate and unnecessary equipment similar to many a contempo- rary organization. It seems as though things became about ninety per cent show and ten per cent riding. However that may be, scores and hundreds soon swelled the ranks of cyclists and clubs. The League of American Wheelmen had been organized and already had thousands of members.
In 1882, the Rhode Island Wheelmen became hosts of a similar Boston club and
229
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
took their guests for a run to Rocky Point for a grand clambake. It was one of the outstanding events of the season. As time passed, it was very customary for clubs in neighboring states or cities to visit back and forth or make long trips together.
Meanwhile in the '80's the "goats " or safety bicycles had come in. These, of course, were made with both wheels of the same size. They proved popular at once and the high-wheelers were doomed. Wil- liam H. Thurber was the first one to have a "goat " in Providence. His was an Ivers wheel, geared up to 60, weighing only 65 pounds, and possessing small solid rubber tires. Later it was he who introduced Providence cyclists to the pneumatic tire which he imported from England.
The "Star " bicycle, despite Campbell's advertisement, which is quoted, never proved very popular and was generally regarded as a freak. It was the reverse of the high-wheelers, having the large wheel in the rear and the small one in front. Instead of pedals it was equipped with foot levers.
So the bicycle vogue went on. In 1886, the League of American Wheelmen con- vened in Providence and there was a grand parade with 1500 wheelmen in line. More than 5000 attended. The affair included everything from tricycle races to hill-
climbing contests. By 1896, the League numbered 70,000 members.
It was a great era, those '80's and '90's. Everyone was riding, men, women and children. Tandems were invented for inseparable couples; bicycles of smaller size were on sale for children; and all sorts of improvements were made in their con- struction. Probably the nearest idea one may get of this period of bicycles and cyclists . .. at least as far as their num- bers upon the road are concerned . . . is at such a place as Wellesley Hills where the college girls still use the bicycle as a convenient means of getting to class. The only other places in New England where many bicycles are to be seen are the gram- mar and high schools, and even they are giving way to the automobile.
Of course it was the automobile that ended the day of the bicycle, except as a vehicle for children. People will never exert themselves unnecessarily, and the automobile provided an effortless means of touring the countryside. But the bi- cycle had its charms as those who rode them will remember, charms that no other vehicle can possess. And there are still those, not children, who turn now and again to the bicycle for quiet transporta- tion, popular ridicule and busy highway hazards notwithstanding.
THE BLIZZARD OF '88
M ARCH, in 1888, may have come in like a lamb and departed in the same docile manner, but the middle of that eventful month most certainly distin- guished itself in a manner that may best be described as a whole jungle full of wild, roaring, man-eating lions. Storms, like battles and birthdays, often become the mile-posts of history - important events are often placed in their proper chrono- logical order by reference to them as hap- pening before or after the time of some particularly furious gale, an earthquake, a tidal wave or a cyclone. Luckily for Rhode Island, volcanic eruptions, earth upheavals and the like are unknown ex- periences, therefore in this locality spec-
tacular carnivals of wind, rain and snow have occasionally served as turning-points in the passing of decades. There were two such events in the last, the nineteenth, century, and the first was important enough to entitle it to an important place among the pages of Rhode Island history.
Few residents in the State have not heard of the Great Gale of 1815. Most of them well remember too the Hurricane of 1938. The second great storm of the past century can be remembered vividly by many of our elder residents, and they will probably recall that everything that oc- curred in these parts during the latter quarter of the 1800's was mentioned as happening before or after the "Blizzard
230
PROVIDENCE INSTITUTION FOR SAVINGS
of '88." The complete story of that un- seasonable attack by the elements is a long one - frightful experiences by men and women, descriptions of widespread damage, amusing tales of marooned trav- elers, fill many pages of news columns printed at the time, but the following brief account of the storm will probably be sufficient to awaken memories and recall to the minds of many that windy and rainy day in March, 1888.
A storm commenced in Providence about eleven o'clock Sunday night, March 11, 1888, when a light snow began to fall, changing to rain sometime before daylight. Early Monday morning, the streets were slushy and a strong wind was blowing, but there was nothing to indicate that a severe storm was in store for residents of Rhode Island and nearby Atlantic Coast states. Rain and wind lashed the city until shortly after noon when the rain turned to hail and snow, and the velocity of the wind increased rapidly. The few persons who ventured upon the streets, and only those who were compelled to be outside attempted to brave the fury of the ele- ments, hurried from shelter to shelter, halting at each corner in order to get a good start before crossing the streets. Many made mad dashes for the horse- cars that were loaded inside and out be- fore they had gone many yards from the terminal at the bridge on Market Square. Nearly all of the horse-cars had four horses attached, and, even with such strong teams, continual halts were made at the switches, or turn-outs. Along the old Elmwood Avenue route horses and drivers found it nearly impossible to pro- ceed with the lumbering, dandling vehicles.
Exchange Place was practically impass- able - there the wind rushed across the open area from every point of the com- pass. As the night advanced, the wind increased; the snow piled higher and higher and the streets of the city were deserted. Telephone communication was impossible since the wires were broken down with the weight of ice and snow. Telegraphic communication with the out- side world was entirely cut off with the exception of one line to Fall River and Newport. During the night the gale became worse - Providence was help-
lessly storm-bound. Fire alarm wires were down - the whole system was disrupted. Strokes of the alarm bells were heard as morning approached, and these were caused by breaking wires, falling poles and damaged boxes. Street electric lights held on well, although many stores and other public establishments were plunged into darkness.
News from Worcester early in the day disclosed that the storm was covering that region, and, late in the afternoon, the Providence and Worcester Railroad began to have trouble. Wires went down first - by early evening the trains went astray. There were brief periods when communi- cation was open to Woonsocket, but most of the time it was impossible to reach Manville. At seven o'clock that evening it was reported that the late afternoon train from Worcester was snow-bound 'somewhere up the road." It was impos- sible to locate the whereabouts of the train by wire so a wrecking car was dis- patched from the Providence station to rescue the stranded passengers and train crew. Mails stopped with the trains with the exception of the pony mail carrier from Fall River who arrived on this end nearly two hours late. He experienced hard going all of the way; his first horse nearly lost heart in the blinding storm, and Mr. Crandall, the driver, walked nearly four miles leading the animal. Somewhere along the route his path was blocked with a great fallen tree, and this necessitated retracing his steps and mak- ing a long detour to avoid the obstruction.
A review of the news reports of those furious hours shows that Providence was not the only Rhode Island victim of the "grandeur of the gale and the bellow of the blast." Great snow drifts on the roads leading into Olneyville had to be cleared by milkmen and others who literally forced their way, inch by inch, into the city. The plows of the Union Railroad Company, drawn by six horses, were kept. running over the tracks all through the night; however, the early morning cars on Tuesday encountered drifts that caused them to jump the rails. Streets were piled high with snow in Pawtucket; wires were down everywhere; streets were blockaded. Pedestrians made their way through the
231
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
horse-car paths that the plows had cleared. Business in Woonsocket was at a stand- still. Horse-cars were abandoned on the streets and sleigh barges were quickly put into service to convey passengers. Car tracks were deeply buried, making it use- less to attempt to move the horse-drawn cars.
The wind blew a gale all day in Bristol, and the rain fell in torrents from early morning until late at night. At first, the snowstorm did not extend southward across Rhode Island below Barrington, therefore Bristol escaped this feature of the disturbance for a while. But Bristol streets and cellars were flooded, high- ways were impassable, and the snow did fall heavily all day Tuesday. Reports came in from Burrillville that the snow there was eighteen inches deep, level measure; it was compactly hard and had drifted high in all exposed places. A passenger train was stalled somewhere near Harrisville and the occupants of the coaches slept where they were in genuine Western style.
All Rhode Island communities on the coast were lashed by an angry sea that completely deluged some of the build- ings on exposed promontories, and all of the lighthouses along the shore were hidden from view by the giant waves and flying spray. Ships were driven ashore all along the North Atlantic coast and steam- boat passengers en route to and from New York by way of the old Stonington Line did not soon forget their experiences that night between Montauk Point and Hell Gate.
On the following Thursday railroad connections with the outside world were
only open to Boston, Worcester and New London. Immediately after the height of the storm had passed it was believed that rail, water and telegraphic communications would be resumed at once, but the storm had done more dam- age elsewhere than it did among the local communities. All business, all travel, all mail was held up for days. Newspapers of the time are filled with tales of harrowing adventures experienced by travelers who were caught away from the centers of civi- lization when the storm let loose. New York City might have been a foreign capital for several days since it was com- pletely isolated from the rest of the world. It is interesting to note that the first train to reach New Haven from New York after two o'clock Monday afternoon did not arrive at the former city until the follow- ing Friday afternoon.
Providence and other Rhode Island communities took days to recover from the ravages of this storm. Freshets created by the melting of the tremendous amount of snow and ice caused consider- able damage during the days that fol- lowed, and the harm done to wires, poles, roads, streets, and private property re- quired weeks of repairing and rebuilding. If history does really have a way of repeat- ing itself, those of the present who are astounded at the apparition of a snow- storm in the month of March, and who regard such an occurrence as one that is completely out of season, should reflect upon the strange prank of Nature that beset Providence just a few days before the ominous Ides of March in the year 1888, and it is well to remind them to "beware."
PEMBROKE COLLEGE
I' 'T WAS but a few years ago that under- graduates from the Women's College in Brown University who made their appear- ance on the Brown campus (even if they were only on their way to class) would be greeted with epithets time-honored among Brown men. If the former happened to arrive when classes were changing, they
would have to run what amounted to a gantlet of comment, generally adverse, seldom favorable. At other times a win- dow in University or Slater Hall would be pushed up with a bang and a group of young men, sprawling at perilous angles across the sill, would let loose a barrage of remarks among which the word "Pem-
-
Courtesy, Town Criers of Rhode Island
OLD RAILROAD STATION AND COVE IN 1883.
PROVIDENCE ATHENEUM, CORNER BENEFIT AND COLLEGE STREETS. BUILDING COMPLETED IN 1837.
232
233
"THE OLD STONE BANK"
brokers!" would be vented with all the emphasis of disgust. Those were days when a Brown man would lose standing among his fellows if he so much as hinted that he found any one of these young women attractive. If he went so far as to pay frequent visits to the Women's Col- lege in the evening, he was a thorough rebel and outcast. Older graduates can remember the time when Pembrokers were not allowed to cross the campus. If they had classes there, they had to reach a hall by walking around and entering by the nearest gate.
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.