USA > Rhode Island > Newport County > Little Compton > The Two-hundredth anniversary of the organization of the United Congregational Church, Little Compton, Rhode Island, September 7, 1904 > Part 8
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The guards kept a vigilant watch upon all that was going on upon the river and the opposite shore, and especially upon the line of hostile boats which was stationed in the Sakonnet river to blockade Little Compton and Tiverton and prevent supplies being shipped to the American camp on Tiverton Heights.
As might be expected these opposing forces came in con- tact from time to time with amusing, or lively, or sometimes fatal consequences.
In January, 1777, the farmers trained a twelve and an eighteen pound cannon on the British frigate Cerebus which was lying in Fogland cove, killing six men before the vessel could draw out of range. One Little Compton man was injured.
The most annoying of the blockading vessels was the Kingfisher, a man-of-war of 16 guns. A diligent search
(1) John Irish settled here. The present house was built before the Revolution; the ancient portion, 1674, was rebuilt about thirty years ago. Bayles' History, p. 1015; Lot 16. ancient maps.
Col. Church died from injuries received in a fall from his horse after visiting Mrs. Irish, who was his sister.
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in the sandy shore south of High hill, below Fogland, at low tide, will reward you with a view of her sea-picked ribs. There is a diversity of tradition as to how she came to be stranded and blown up (July 30th, 1778). One story is that on the arrival off Fogland of three of Count d'Estaing's frigates, the Kingfisher and two "galleys" were set on fire by their own crews. "Their shotted guns" we are told, "went off in all directions, and their magazines exploded to the con- fusion and consternation of friend and foe."1 A more en- tertaining narrative is, that during a dark night our folks hastily threw up a little earth-work on High hill near where the Kingfisher lay at anchor; they dragged down some can- non and opened up a merry and unexpected bombardment. In the confusion of getting out of the way in a hurry, it is said that the ill-fated vessel was run aground with the above-mentioned finale.2
In October, 1778, the "galley" Pigot, 200 tons. armed with eight twelve-pounders, blockaded the Sakonnet River. Maj. Silas Talbot started out from Providence in a small sloop, the Hawk, with two three-pounders. One dark night he dropped below Fogland point, secured reinforcements to his crew from Topham's regiment at Little Compton, and with a sudden surprise and hurrah captured the British vessel without the loss of a man on either side.3
Meanwhile the home guard was kept moving. A maraud- ing band of desperadoes, headed by one William Crosson, was sent out from Newport to wage a guerilla warfare upon the surrounding country. They raided through the Island over Swansea Neck and into Fall River. They made several midnight boat sorties against our Little Compton farms. The depredations of Crosson's band became noto- rious, and measures taken to apprehend him were fruitless until Little Compton men took the matter into their hands. A curious boat, which they called a "shaving mill," was fitted out at Sakonnet Point, and in it a party of men un- der Lemuel Bailey effected Crosson's capture. He was
(1) Bayles' History of Newport County, pp. 380 and 906.
(3) Fragmentary Sketches, etc., P. F. Little, p. 9.
(3) Arnold's History of Rhode Island, Vol. II, p, 432. Bayles' History of New port County p. 389 and p. 906.
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taken under a strong guard to Providence where he nar- rowly escaped the wrath of the populace. 1
Among the reckless associates of Crosson was one Goulds- borough. One night in July, 1779, he landed a party at Sakonnet Cove, surprised the two sons of Judge Taggart, who were doing sentry duty, bayoneted one of them in cold blood and took the brother and his father prisoners to New- port. The thrilling story of the subsequent escape of the surviving brother, in company with Capt. Benjamin Borden of Fall River, is told in William Taggart's Memoirs, in a rare and quaint book long out of print. 2
The story of the Taggarts perhaps merits more than pass- ing mention, for it leads to local historical discussion of considerable interest, which remains to be adjusted.
Major William Taggart, whose home was just across the river from Almy's Wharf, had commanded a fiotilla of gun- boats under General Sullivan, the American commander, and thereby incurred the enmity of the British.3 When Sul- livan's troops retreated from the island, the British burned Taggart's house. In recognition of his services we find the General Assembly ordered that the land deeded to Gideon Sisson by Thomas Church, still in possession of the latter, be set apart for Taggart's use.4 Col. William Richmond was appointed to hold the land for him. This was the great Sa- konnet Point farm, including the 242 acres between Long Pond, the road by the Sisson house and the sea, which land had descended directly to Thomas Church from his famous ancestor.
Gideon Sisson, who was no relative of Lemuel, from whom our Methodist neighbors spring, was a Newport Tory; and, he having been adjudged a traitor, his lands, here and elsewhere, were confiscated.
(1) History of Rhode Island, Rev. Edward Peterson, New York, 1853, p. 222.
(2) Memoirs of William Taggart-Cynthia Taggart's Poems, p. xxxv; also Cow- ell's Spirit of '76, p. 321.
(3) Bayles' History, p. 1001.
. (4) Rhode Island Colonial Records, Vol. 8, p. 323.
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Mr. Blake, in Bayles' history, locates the occurrence at the Bailey cottage on Mrs. Kempton's property, 1 and in the recent voluminous history of Rhode Island by Mr. Edward Field this is accepted as correct, a picture of the house in- serted. and the tragedy rehearsed in all its harrowing de- tails. 2
The Palmer and Bailey descendants repudiate the asser- tion that the peaceful homestead,-forever hallowed as the favored resort of the author of the hymn, "My Faith Looks Up to Thee," ever suffered this tragic baptism of blood.3 I think the family are correct and the historians in error. It appears certain that it was the adjoining (Sisson) farm that was appropriated to Taggart's use, and it would seem probable from all the facts of the narrative that the cruel occurrence took place there.4
In passing, it is interesting to note that Gideon Sisson's lands were restored to him after the war; Taggart was rein- stated at Newport and was one of a committee of four to re- ceive General Washington there in 1781.5
The ploughshare of history turns up the story of the Tag- garts again in the next century in a peaceful but no less pa- thetic narrative. The surviving brother was discovered fifty years later, in 1832, by the Rev. James Cook Rich- mond, father of our neighbor, Rev. William Richmond, suf- fering the extremities of poverty and old age in his home at Taggart's Ferry, which place, by the way, took its name from a cousin of the veteran. The old man's daughter Cyn- thia, when Mr. Richmond found them, had lain bed-ridden for eleven years with paralysis, composing meanwhile, a
(1) Bayles' History of Newport County, p. 1002.
(*) State of Rhode Island at the End of the Century, Edward Field, Vol. III, p. 638.
(3) Rev. Ray Palmer was born in the old cottage on George T. Howard's farm; h lived, while a boy, at the Common, in the house which is now the residence of Nathaniel Church.
(*) After the above was written the writer procured Mr. P. F. Little's pamphlet, "Fragmentary Sketches," etc., in which this scene is conclusively located on Col. Sisson's farm.
(5) Cowell's Spirit of '76. p. 226.
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perhaps superabundance of verses, dolefully religious, in consonance with her unfortunate condition and the atmos- phere of her environment.
The Rev. James Cook Richmond made her and her verses the subject of a little book entitled, "The Rhode Island Cot- tage or a Gift for the Children of Sorrow" (1835). This book went through a second edition in 1842 and a third in 1851. I was fortunate in rescuing copies of the earlier editions from the bottom of a basket of old books on the sidewalk of the bookstore at the Old South Church in Bos- ton.
With the assistance of the daughters of the Hon. John Jay, Mr. Richmond had this good lady's poems published, 1 and he was further influential in raising money which placed the Taggarts beyond the pangs of want and secured the tardy recognition of a pension,-which began to be paid, as pensions too frequently are, on the eve of the old man's removal from the scenes of earthly tribulation.
For fourteen months after July, 1778, the pent-up patri- ots on the island kept up an underground communication with the outside world through Little Compton, and the American officers were constantly apprised of the move- ments of the enemy. This was managed by Isaac Barker, a Middletown farmer, at one end, and at the other Lieuten- ant Chapin of Sherburne's Regiment, who was stationed at Little Compton and quartered, I am told, in the Amasa Gray house.2 Great adroitness was required on the part of Barker, as he was, during the whole time, the unwilling host of British soldiers from whom probably he acquired the greater part of the information which he transmitted.
When the people in Newport desired to send a communi- cation to the main-land, a certain pair of bars were left down, or placed standing against the wall, or Mr. Peleg Peckham's barn door was left open,-all in accord with a prearranged system. Then after nightfall a paper was to be found in a certain place on the Compton shore; a small
(1) Cynthia Taggart's Poems, Providence, 1834.
(2) The house of Samuel Gray previously mentioned.
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vault covered with a flat stone, on the Middletown shore served as the depository for messages at that end.1
These facts have also been handed down in the family tra- ditions of the household of our neighbor, Mrs. Sidney R. Burleigh. Her great-grandfather, William Wilkinson, who was a sergeant in Colonel Archibald Crary's Providence Regiment and that officer's secretary, was stationed for one winter at Little Compton. He found his duties were not very burdensome and he employed himself evenings in read- ing to your entertaining grandmothers. He was wont to narrate to his grandchildren stories of frequent nightly ad- ventures when he had procured these mysterious papers and hurriedly ridden with them to his superior officers.
It is said that the despatches which in this manner brought to the island the inspiring news of Burgoyne's sur- render, two days before its official announcement, are still in the possession of the Barker family.
The Lieutenant Chapin referred to, at one time during his stay in this town, took a whaleboat manned by six Lit- tle Compton men out from Sakonnet Cove and captured a British brig bound for New York, which was probably be- calmed off the point. His prisoners, including the wife of Sir Guy Johnson, were brought to Little Compton.
Benoni Simmons, who lies buried here, was a sailor dur- ing the Revolution. A British cannon-ball carried away his right arm. He was a seaman on the Alliance, the vessel which took Lafayette to France in 1781. He used to tell how the famous general asked and was granted permission to take charge of the quarter-deck guns when a British man- of-war hove in sight-and how he valiantly kept the deck "whence all but him had fled." 2
Cushing Richmond who was born in Little Compton died at the age of fourteen years, a prisoner on board the Jersey prison-ship New York-old Thomas Bailey and two others were seized on our bathing-beach and imprisoned on the same vessel-George William Curtis wrote a sonnet upon the pathetic fate of "the Rhode Island prisoner" on this dreadful vessel. 3
(1) History of Rhode Island, Rev. Edward Peterson, New York, 1853, p. 220.
(2) P. F. Little's Fragmentary Sketches, p. 5.
(3) Richmond Family, p. 191.
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AFTER THE REVOLUTION.
Independence secured, our town was still in the advance guard of enlightened political movement. Rhode Island hesitated to enter the constitutional compact, wavered and fell on the wrong side, 2,708 voting against and 237 in favor of, ratifying the federal constitution.
The Union was formed without this colony, she joining, as you know, after the government was inaugurated. Had Little Compton had her way in the matter Rhode Island would have been in with the other states, for her vote was 63 to 57 in favor of ratification. Bristol was the only other town in the state which favored the compact which we now call the charter of our liberties. 1
During the War of 1812, the stirring episodes of the blockade were re-enacted.
The most aggravating of the English vessels which har- rassed our shore and waylaid the boatmen on the river was the sloop Nimrod. Many were the fireside stories told of her and her crew.2 The following has been taken from the Newport Mercury of June 26th, 1813:
"On Friday last a Launch and Barge from the brig Nim- rod with about 40 men, chased on shore about one mile south of Fogland-ferry in the east passage a sloop belong- ing to Nantucket from New York, with a cargo of flour and corn. The crew left the sloop, when she was immediately taken possession of by the British and set on fire. The mili- tia in the neighborhood assembled as soon as possible, and from behind a stone wall near the edge of the bank, com- menced firing upon the British, and soon compelled them to quit the sloop, with the loss of two men. The fire was immediately extinguished and the sloop was got off and carried further up the river. The enemy had possession of the sloop for so short a time, that neither the vessel or cargo were materially injured.
Several 12-pound shot were picked up on the shore and in the bank and fields, which was fired from the launch. The
(1) Records of Colony of Rhode Island, Vol. X., pp. 271, 275.
(2) P. F. Little's " Fragmentary Sketches," p. 20.
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spirited conduct of the militia of Little Compton is enti- tled to the highest praise. We are gratified in saying that no injury was sustained."
I have intruded upon these exercises too long to dilate upon the first century of prosperity under American inde- pendence, although I would gladly dwell upon scenes and anecdotes which have been imparted to me by my indulgent neighbors.
OLD-TIME CHURCH SERVICES.
This community is unusually fortunate in possessing an imperishable picture of its social life during the first half of the last century in the printed record of the exercises at the anniversary twenty-five years ago: the addresses of Rev. Mr. Hart, fervid with the enthusiasm of the pastor whose heart is his people's; of Rev. Ray Palmer, the poet, glowing with memories of the childhood's home; of Professor Charles U. Shepard, the scholar glowing with the inspira- tion of a son who adored his father's memory, and spar- kling with the humor of the gifted litterateur.
How vividly, how tenderly, how cleverly is the old meet- ing-house, and the long and formal services therein con- ducted, described, in order that the memory of them might be preserved for coming generations! The one-story, weather-beaten, barn-shaped building, so often glorified as with Pentecostal light; the Sabbath worshippers quietly assembling for service, in best broadcloth or rustling silk, or humble gray ; some on horseback, some in chaises, some walking along the blossoming byways or across the distant fields; the pillioned horses depositing in turn their fair and coquettish burdens at the church door; the imposing appearance of Deacon Brownell's coach,-the only two- horse vehicle in the town; the pausing, if it were winter, at the great stove in the entry-way to fill the footstoves for the comfort of the nether members, while doctrinal theology and spiritual inspiration were supposed to keep the bodies of the hearers aglow. Then the decorous entrance of the women into the high-backed, balustraded pews; the hush attending the arrival of the silk-gowned clergyman, accom-
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panied by Dame Shepard, and followed by their numerous progeny, walking in subdued procession. The rising of the minister in the pulpit, which was the signal for the men to cease their door-yard contention concerning fish, crops, or politics and to take their places for worship, followed by the tramping of the men down the aisle and up the gal- lery stairs; the shutting to of the big pew-doors, and the general settling down to the quiet of the two hours' ser- vice. Professor Shepard narrates that there was a momen- tary stay in the proceedings occasioned by a large and aged man's solemnly mounting the pulpit steps. This gentle- man was Mr. John Gray, whose infirmity of deafness en- dowed him with the exceptional privilege of standing, all through the service, at the minister's side with a great, brazen ear-trumpet held in close proximity to the preach- er's face. How prosaic and commonplace compared with such an arrangement are the modern tubes and telephones which mechanically connect the pews with the pulpit!
Then it was customary that there should be another de- lay, for Mistress Margaret Lynn was an important func- tionary and must not be lost sight of. She was the sexton, and of her it was sometimes whispered that she cleaned the various pews with an assiduity proportioned to the owner's liberality ; and the ear-trumpet and the morning's text must needs be suspended while she rustled down the aisle and dis- posed her ample petticoats in the straightened confines of her pew beside the pulpit.
After another brief, impressive silence there came the lining out of the hymns, each couplet being read by the pas- tor and sung by the congregation,-an alternation of song and speech which must have been jolting to the melody of the hymn. In early days the congregation were kept some- where near the key by the twang of chorister John Taylor's tuning-fork, and in later days by the note of a violoncello, which time-honored instrument may be seen, in perfect con- dition, in our Historical Exhibit.
The lengthy sermon was not interrupted, but varied merely, by the occasional promenade up and down the aisle of Deacon Tompkins; he was a short, fat man, whose par-
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tial paralysis precluded his staying long in a set position and therefore this peripetetic license was accorded for the amelioration of his distress. I fancy there are some here before me, who, while they covet no such infirmity are never- theless envious of so acceptable a privilege.
To my mind the descriptions, such as that of the Sabbath service, the gathering after service at the parsonage, the polishing of the above-mentioned ear-trumpet, and other oc- currences of parish experience, found in Professor Shep- ard's letter are of a literary value akin to the pictures of colonial life in Hawthorne's famous tales. Selections from this letter would make entertaining reading for us at the winter fireside, or at church festivals or school entertain- ments. Such readings would be far from tiresome and would tend to renew the traditions of old days.
If time permitted there are stories that might be told of Dorr's Rebellion and of the years of peace and prosperity previous to the breaking out of the Civil War. During the latter period the Common presented almost its present ap- pearance, except that the houses looked newer and better kept, and the village bore a front of greater vigor and pros- perity. There was an inn for the accommodation of the travelers who were brought into town by the two lines of Concord stages, whose appearance from New Bedford and Fall River constituted the most notable break in the quiet of the day. And then the busy windmill across the road south of the cemetery added liveliness to the scene.
Little Compton was the birthplace of one United States senator. James Freeman Simmons first saw the light in the old farmhouse now owned by Rouse Pearce. One gov- ernor of Rhode Island was born and lived here,-Governor Isaac Wilbour.
Probably most of you are familiar with the large paint- ing in Mr. Wilbour's parlor. It is indeed a treasure in which the whole town may have pride. Mr. Blashfield, the artist, is one of the great men of his time, and his work in many capitols will help to save the memory of statesmen and soldiers from oblivion. It speaks well for his taste and discernment that, in the gardens of Italy and on the
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THE GOVERNOR'S GRANDSONS Painting by E. H. Blashfield.
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waters of old Nile, he wooed and won a woman of Little Compton ancestry. Side by side, man and wife have la- bored in the fields of literature and art. Their edition of "Vasari's Lives of the Painters," and their books on "The Italian Cities" have become classics. Mrs. Blashfield's own literary work in lighter vein, such as Masques of Cupid, and numerous magazine articles have started a new growth of laurels upon the governor's family tree.
The painting to which I have referred is a life-size pre- sentment of three white-headed and snowy-bearded old gen- tlemen engaged in the deliberation of a matter which is in- dicated upon the document spread before them, the map of the Little Compton "Gret" road,-a subject which cannot fail to arouse our local sympathy. The old men are Isaac C. Wilbour, Charles Edwin Wilbour and Isaac Wilbour Brownell. Looking into space from a framed portrait be- hind them appears the face of a beardless young man, who is clad in the straight-cut brown coat and folded neck-cloth of a century ago. The youthful figure represents Governor Isaac Wilbour. There is fine humor in the title of the painting "The Governor's Grandsons." Governor Wilbour entered public life when he entered manhood. He was rep- resentative from this town, and became speaker of the As- sembly. He was twice lieutenant-governor and succeeded to the governorship on the death of Governor Mumford. At the expiration of his term of office he was elected to Con- gress. Subsequently, for eight years, he was chief justice of Rhode Island.
The following anecdote, which is too good to be lost, al- though well authenticated, has, I believe, never been pub- lished.
The time is after the Revolution and before the War of 1812. The scene, Tiverton Four Corners, a great concourse of people filling the roadway between the two country stores-the "red store" and the "white store." Conspicu- ous in the throng is a handsome young man of distinguished bearing, a ruffled front and snowy stock surmounting his straight-cut frock coat, his abundant hair wrapped and tied in a queue.
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Attended by a couple of officers in uniform, supported by an officious sheriff and a constable, it is evident that the young man is a person of authority.
The centre of all the hubbub is a terrified woman bound to an upright stone post. The occasion of it all is that Governor Wilbour is about to attend the painful execution of the sentence of the Court that, for some misdemeanor, the woman shall be flogged. The women of the town are surging around his Excellency agitating a violent protest against the proposed indignity to one of "the sex."
The governor, compelling silence in a few temperate words, upholds the supremacy of law and expounds the ex- ecutive duty,-receiving an insurbodinate wail in response from an unappreciative audience. Temporizing for a mo- ment with rebellion, his Excellency, inquiring what the law says "anyhow," reads from the pages of the Statute: "The condemned prisoner shall be tied to an upright post and flogged according to the sentence of the Court." Another rebellious outcry-in soprano, followed by an expectant hush, during which his Excellency proffers the suggestive inquiry, "But ladies! If it happened that there should be no 'upright post,' how could the law be carried out?"
Whereupon a hundred willing hands unite in overthrow- ing, not for the occasion only, but for all time, the offensive instrument of public castigation, and since then no woman has been publicly flogged in Rhode Island.
The governor sleeps in the family burial place beside the ivy-covered belfrey where, at rare intervals, the music of chimes may be heard answering through the sunset stillness the tolling of the lonely bell that rocks with the heaving of the neighboring sea.
You know the place,-and the golden emblem pointing heavenward. It is the Egyptian sign of immortality, an- cient as the pentateuch, but like the Christian cross, sym- bolizing the desire of the ages-the life eternal.
Near the governor's grave lie two of his "grandsons." One was a traveled and learned Egyptologist, versed in hieroglyphic lore; the other, keeping the even tenor of his way at home, employed his leisure hours in the study of
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books and nature. Over his window which overlooks fields and sea and sky is carved the legend :
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