Historic Towns of New England

“The healthfulness of the city of Newport and its environs is doubtless the result of the brilliancy and coolness of its climate, but this coolness proves fatal to its younger inhabitants, and the number of young men, and, above all, of young women, who die yearly of consumption is considerable. It is noteworthy that the inscriptions on the tombstones in the cemetery indicate in almost all cases that the person interred is either very young or very old – either less than twenty years of age or more than seventy.”

Whether this statement of Count Rochefoucauld’s bears the test of examination would be impossible now to determine, for the century since his visit has made changes in the city of the dead as marked as those effected in the city of the living. But the “cool and brilliant” air with which he finds fault has since been proved by many invalids to be full of health-giving properties. Consumptives are more often sent to Newport for cure, nowadays, than away from it. Asthma, diseases of the chest and throat, nervous disorders, insomnia, excitability of brain, are in many cases sensibly benefited by the island climate, which, however, is less “brilliant” than sedative. This is attributed to the relaxing effects of the Gulf Stream, which is popularly supposed to make an opportune curve toward the shore and to produce a quality of air quite different from that of other New England seaside climates. Whatever may be the truth as to the bend of this obliging current, it is certain that something has given to the place an exceptional climate, pure, free from malaria and exempt equally from the fiercer heats of summer and the severer colds of winter.

It was not till about the year 1830 that the true source of Newport’s prosperity was realized to be her climate. Since then she has become more and more the Mecca of pilgrims from all parts of the country. Year by year, the town has spread and broadened, stretching out wide arms to include distant coigns of vantage, until now the summer city covers some miles in extent, and land, unsalable in the early part of the century, and but twenty years ago commanding little more than the price of a Western homestead, is now valued at from ten to fourteen thousand dollars an acre! Every year adds to the number of cottages and villas and to the provision made for the accommodation of strangers. The census, which in winter counts up to less than twenty thousand, is during the four months of “the season” swelled by the addition of thousands of strangers, many of whom are in a manner residents of the place, owning their own houses and preserving their domestic privacy.

A walk in the older and more thickly settled parts of the town is not without its rewards. There are to be found well-known objects of interest, – the Jewish burial-ground, with its luxurious screen of carefully tended flowers; the Redwood Library, rich in old books and the possession of the finest cut-leaved beech on the island; and the old Stone Mill, on which so much speculative reasoning in prose and verse has been lavished. Some years ago, those ruthless civic hands which know neither taste nor mercy, despoiled the mill of the vines which made it picturesque, but even thus denuded, it is an interesting object. There is old Trinity, with its square pews and burial tablets, and a last-century “three-decker” pulpit, with clerk’s desk, reading-desk and preaching-desk, all overhung by a conical sounding-board of extinguisher pattern – a sounding-board on which whole generations of little boys have fixed fascinated eyes, wondering in case of fall what would become of the clergyman underneath it. And, besides these, each westward-leading street gives pretty glimpses of bay and islands and shipping, and there is always the chance of lighting on a bit of the past, – some quaint roof or wall or doorway, left over from Revolutionary times and holding up a protesting face from among more modern buildings.

Winter or summer, the charm which most endears Newport to the imaginative mind is, and must continue to be, the odd mingling of old and new which meets you on every hand. A large portion of the place belongs and can belong to no other day but our own, but touching it everywhere, apart from it but of it, is the past. It meets you at every turn, in legend or relic or quaint traditionary custom still kept up and observed. Many farm-hands and servants on the island still date and renew their contracts of service from “Lady-Day.” The “nine-o’clock bell,” which seems derived in some dim way from the ancient curfew, is regularly rung. The election parade, dear to little boys and peanut-venders, has continued to be a chief event every spring, with its procession, its drums, its crowd of country visitors, and small booths for the sale of edibles and non-edibles pitched on either side the State-House Square, which, in honor of this yearly observance, is called familiarly, “The Parade.” One of the oldest militia companies in New England is the Newport Artillery, and The Mercury, established in 1758 by a brother of Benjamin Franklin, is the oldest surviving newspaper in the United States. Newport also possesses a town-crier. He may be met with any day, tinkling his bell at street corners and rehearsing, in a loud, melancholy chant, facts regarding auction-sales, or town-meetings, or lost property. And, turning aside from the polo-play or the Avenue crowded with brilliant equipages, a few rods carries you to the quiet loneliness of a secluded burial-place, with the name of an ancient family carved on its locked gate, in which, beneath gray headstones and long, flowering grasses, repose the hushed secrets of a century ago. Or, fresh from the buzz and chatter, the gay interchange of the day, you may chance on an old salt spinning yarns of pirates and privateers, phantom ships or buried treasure, or an antiquary full of well-remembered stories whose actors belong to the far-gone past, – stories of the extinct glories of the place, of family romance and family tragedy, or tragedy just escaped. What could be finer contrast than tales like these, told on a street-corner where, just before, perhaps, the question had been about Wall Street or Santiago, if the French frigate were still in the bay, or when would be the next meeting of the Town and Country Club! Indeed, it is not so many years since visitors to Newport might have held speech with a dear old lady whose memory carried her back clearly and distinctly to the day when, a child six years old, she sat on Washington’s knee. The little girl had a sweet voice. She sang a song to the great man, in recompense for which he honored her with a salute. “It was here, my dear, and here, that General Washington kissed me,” she would say to her grandchildren, touching first one and then the other wrinkled cheek; and to the end of her life, no other lips were suffered to profane with a touch the spots thus made sacred.

In a country whose charm and whose reproach alike is its newness, and to a society whose roots are forever being uprooted and freshly planted to be again uprooted, there is real education and advantage in the tangible neighborhood of the past; and the Newport past is neither an unlovely nor a reproachful shape. There is dignity in her calm mien; she looks on stately and untroubled, and compares and measures. The dazzle and glitter of modern luxury do not daunt her: she has seen splendor before in a different generation and different forms, she has shared it, she has watched it fade and fail. Out of her mute, critical regard, a voice seems to sound in tones like the rustle of falling leaves in an autumn day, and to utter that ancient and melancholy truth, Vanitas vanitatum! “The fashion of this world passeth away.” We listen, awed for a moment, and then we smile again, – for brightness near at hand has a more potent spell than melancholy gone by, – and turning to our modern lives with their movement and sunshine, their hope and growth, we are content to accept and enjoy such brief day as is granted us, nor “prate nor hint of change till change shall come.”

PROVIDENCE

THE COLONY OF HOPE

By WILLIAM B. WEEDEN

THE capital of Rhode Island, the second city of New England, – an agricultural village in the seventeenth, a commercial port in the eighteenth, and a centre of manufacturing in the nineteenth century, – lies at the head of Narragansett Bay. The mainland of the State westward to Connecticut, according to Shaler, rests on very old rocks of the Laurentian and Lower Cambrian series. The greater part of the bay and the land near Providence is upon rocks belonging to the Coal measures. These rocks, softer than the older ones, have been cut away and afford the inlets of the bay. The surface of the State and the sloping hills of Providence have been profoundly affected by the wearing course of the glaciers.

The original village skirted along the western side of the ridge, by which ran the little Moshassuck and Woons-asquetucket Rivers. Eastward the ridge stretched in a plateau to the larger Seekonk, which cut off the peninsula. On the eastern side of the Seekonk, Roger Williams had settled and planted, when Plymouth Colony significantly advised him to move on. In June, 1636, with five companions, he crossed the Seekonk and landed on the rock, since raised to the grade of Ives and Williams streets. Here, as the tradition runs, Indians greeted him cordially, “What Cheer, Netop! What Cheer!” He had arranged with the Narragansett sachems, Canonicus and Miantinomi, for deeds of the lands about these rivers and the Pawtuxet, with certain undefined rights extending westward and northward.

The canoe kept away from What Cheer or Slate rock, south and westward around Tockwotton and Fox Point, up the Providence River, to land near where St. John’s Church stands. The spring of water attracting the pioneer and kept as public property is in the basement of a house on the northwest corner of North Main Street and Allen’s Lane. North Main was the “Towne Streete,” occupied by the little band of settlers. Williams’s “home-lot” stretched easterly, including the land of the Dorr Estate, at the corner of Benefit and Bowen Streets. A stone in the rear of the buildings marks the spot where Roger Williams was buried.

In this man was the germ of Providence, the adumbration of the little commonwealth of Rhode Island. Whatever drove him from Massachusetts, however the Puritans enforced their narrow political scheme, the result was a free State founded on new principles of government. In the words of Thomas Durfee:

“Absolute sincerity is the key to his character, as it was always the mainspring of his conduct… He had the defect of his qualities; – an inordinate confidence in his own judgment. He had also the defects of his race; – the hot Welsh temper, passionate and resentful under provocation, and the moody Welsh fancy.”

The “Plantations of Providence” began in these “home-lots,” reaching eastward from the “Towne Streete.” It was intended to give each settler five acres. Some had, moreover, meadow-lands, and there were common rights, as in all the plantations of New England. Chad Brown, John Throckmorton, and Gregory Dexter were the committee who made the first allotment. The land had been conveyed from the Indian sachems, and Williams gave it by “initial deed” to his twelve companions, making thirteen original proprietors.

“Probably in the autumn of 1638, and certainly prior to the 16th of March, 1639,”11 the settlers formed the first Baptist church in America. Williams was pastor for about four months, with Holyman as colleague. Chad Brown was ordained in 1642 with William Wickenden. The latter was succeeded by Gregory Dexter. The present church, adapted by James Sumner from designs of James Gibbs, architect, was built in 1775. Earlier than this, though the date is not fixed, the proprietors had made the following agreement, the importance of which can hardly be overestimated:

“We whose names are hereunder, desirous to inhabit in the town of Providence, do promise to subject ourselves in active or passive obedience, to all such orders or agreements as shall be made for public good of the body, in an orderly way, by the major assent of the present inhabitants, masters of families, incorporated together into a town-fellowship, and such others whom they shall admit unto them only in civil things.” Here was laid the foundation of soul liberty. Let us refer to Diman: “Thus, for the first time in history, a form of government was adopted which drew a clear and unmistakable line between the temporal and spiritual power, and a community came into being which was an anomaly among the nations.” It was a pure democracy, controlling the admission of its members.

They soon found that some delegation of power was needed for civil administration, and in 1640 they elaborated their system somewhat, and established rudimentary courts. They perceived that they could not remain safely between the unfriendly colonies of Massachusetts on one side, and the alien Dutch of New York on the other. They sent Williams to England, whence he returned in 1644, bringing a parliamentary charter. Under this, the towns of Providence, Portsmouth and Newport were united, with the name “The Incorporation of Providence Plantations in the Narragansett Bay in New England.” In 1645 there were, according to Holmes, 101 men in Providence capable of bearing arms. Staples thinks this estimate includes the population of Shawonet or Warwick. In 1663 John Clarke of Newport obtained the royal charter, which was adopted by the freemen of the towns, and the commonwealth was entitled the “Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.” The oldest tax or rate bill extant dates from 1650, when Roger Williams was assessed £1.13.4. In 1663 the whole tax was £36. assessed in “Country pay,” which performed such important functions in the currencies of New England, viz., wheat at 4s. 6d., peas, 3s. 6d., butter, 6d.

An important factor in the daily life of Providence has always been in the crossing of the main stream which limited the early village on the west. Mr. Fred. A. Arnold’s careful investigation12 shows that a bridge at Weybosset, “formerly Wapwayset,” or “at the narrow passage,” was built before 1660. It was repaired and renewed at various times. In 166-7/8 Roger Williams undertook, in a most interesting document, to maintain it by co-operative labor from the townsmen and tolls from strangers. It was enlarged until, in the middle of our century, tradition claimed it to be the widest bridge in the world. Other bridges spanned the river, and in the present year the old Weybosset is being replaced by an elaborate steel structure laid on piers of granite.

In 1675-1676 King Philip’s War, in which the Narragansetts joined, raged through southern New England, and our little plantation was devastated. The women and children generally, with the greater part of the men, sought safety in Newport, Long Island or elsewhere. Thirty houses were burned, chiefly in the north part of the town. After the Indians were beaten, the village was slowly rebuilt. At this time the administration of the settlement was in the hands of the Friends. Their influence was second only to that of the Baptists, until after the Revolution. The only original house standing is the interesting Roger Mowry13 tavern, built in 1653 or earlier, called also the Whipple or Abbott house. Guarded by a large elm, it stands on Abbott Street, which runs eastward from North Main. The town council met there, and tradition says Williams conducted prayer-meetings in it.

Some of the sites of the early planters are interesting. Richard Scott, a Quaker and antagonist of Williams, lived on the lot next north of St. John’s churchyard. Mary Dyre went from here to be hanged on Boston Common. Near Dexter’s (afterward Olney’s) lane lived Gregory Dexter. Chad Brown, the ancestor of so many men of mark, lived on land now occupied by College Street. The purpose of the original allotment was to give fronts upon the “Towne Streete” and river, and equal shares of farm-lands. According to Dorr14:

“This attempt at democratic equality only created a multitude of small estates widely separated, and in some instances nearly or quite a mile apart. Besides his home-lot of five acres, each proprietor had a ‘six-acre lot,’ at a distance from his abode; and in a few years one or more ‘stated common lots,’ which he acquired by purchase from the Proprietary, or by their occasional land dividends among themselves.”

The chief holdings were on “Providence Neck,” but they gradually extended into “Weybosset Neck.”

The latter years of Roger Williams were largely occupied by controversies with his neighbors, including his especial opponent, William Harris. The germs of a new State, rendered indestructible by the complete separation of church and state, if slumbering, yet lived in spite of the petty social stagnation of an agricultural community.

Early in the eighteenth century, the plantation took a new departure. Nathaniel Browne, a shipwright, had been driven out from Massachusetts, because he had become “a convert to the Church of England.” In 1711 the town granted him one half-acre on “Waybosset Neck on salt water,” and again another half-acre for building vessels. His vessels were among the first to sail from Providence for the West Indies. Horse-carts and vehicles had been used before 1700 by the wealthy, but Madame Knight’s journey to New York from Boston in 1704 shows that the saddle and pillion were the common conveyance along the bridle-paths. Galloping on the Town Street was prohibited in 1681. Through Pawtucket, the Bostonians came by the present North Burying Ground into the Town Street, then crossed Weybosset Bridge on their way toward the southwest. In the wider part of Weybosset thoroughfare, there stood a knoll, which has been levelled away. The road swept around and created the bulging lines of the street. Travel went on through Apponaug and North Kingstown, over Tower Hill and by the Narragansett shore, over the Pequot path toward New York. At this period, the road was opened toward Hartford, and improved communications were made with the surrounding towns. It was not until 1820 that a direct turnpike was opened from Providence to New London.

Of more importance even was the way into the world outward, through the bay. Pardon Tillinghast had been granted land twenty feet square for a storehouse and wharf “over against his dwelling-place,” in 1679-80, at the foot of the present Transit Street. There was struggle and competition for “lands by the sea-side,” or “forty-foot lots, called warehouse lots,” throughout this time, and complete division of the shore privileges was not effected until 1749. All these restless movements showed that the town was waking up and sending its commerce abroad into foreign countries. The first effectual street regulations were in 1736.

The next church organized after the First Baptist followed the faith of the Six-Principle Baptists. The Friends, as they were expelled from Massachusetts, settled in various towns of Rhode Island. Mention has been made of Richard Scott. In 1672 George Fox visited Newport, and he held a meeting “in a great barn” at Providence. Here was a contestant worthy of our doughty champion, Williams. They disputed with voice and pen, recording their angelic moods in these argumentative titles: The Fox Digged out of his Burrowes begged one side of the question; this was answered with equal logic in A New England Firebrand Quenched. The Friends built a meeting-house about 1704.

The First Congregational Pedobaptist (now Unitarian) Society was formed about 1720. They built a house for worship in 1723, at the corner of College and Benefit Streets, where the Court House now stands. This building became the “Old Town House,” when the society moved to its present location at the corner of Benevolent and Benefit Streets. Meanwhile the adherents of the Church of England, yet to become the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States, were gathering in our town. There is some dispute as to the first movements, but Dr. McSparran of Narragansett affirmed that he “was the first Episcopal minister that ever preached at Providence.” The society thus formed finally took the name of “St. John’s Church, in Providence.” The church was raised in 1722, on the spot where the present building succeeded it in 1810. It will be observed that these new ecclesiastical developments moved along with the broader commercial life which was animating the community.

Any historical student should examine Rhode Island for what it is, and even more for what it is not. Roger Williams and his fellows tried a “lively experiment” as daring as it was fruitful. They severed church and state, cutting off thereby the help of an educated clergy. They founded a political democracy, tempering it with the best aristocracy to be obtained, without the ordinary facilities of education derived through such help. Neither the Williams Independents nor the Quakers followed the common formulas of education, which were generally in the hands of Anglicans or Presbyterians. This does not prove that societies can safely drop scholastic education. Many communities have failed for lack of such education. It does prove that the Anglo-American stock engaged in political and economical development will educate itself. At first sight, it was hardly to be expected that isolated and unlettered Providence would be prominent in resisting England, or in forming a new government. But she did this, in full share, and the embodiment of her citizenship, the type of her republican character, was in one man, Stephen Hopkins – “great not only in capacity and force of mind, but also – what is much rarer – in originative faculty.”

Born a farmer in 1707, removing to Providence in 1731, a member of the General Assembly in 1732, Chief Justice in 1739, one of the committee to form Franklin’s plan of colonial union at Albany in 1754, a signer of the Declaration in 1776 – we have here the full measure of a republican citizen, whether by the standard of Cato, or by the later models of Franklin and Washington. “A clear and convincing speaker, he used his influence in Congress in favor of decisive measures.”

In 1758 the first postmaster was appointed by Dr. Franklin. The State House on North Main Street was erected in 1759; the Fire Department began in 1763; a “vigorous effort” was made for free schools in 1767.

A great change was wrought about 1763 by the opening of Westminster Street. A town named for Mr. Fox’s political district had been projected on the west side. It was strangled by the influence of the southern counties. Finally the way across the marsh was laid out. As late as 1771, there were only four houses on the southern and one on the northern side of Westminster Street.

Joseph and William Russell, Clark and Nightingale, with James Brown, the father of the four brothers mentioned below, were among the prominent merchants before the Revolution.

Next to the political change of colony into State, the greatest monument of the larger Rhode Island is the University. Rhode Island College, to become Brown University in 1804, was located under President Manning at Warren in 1766. By the “resolute spirits of the Browns and some other men of Providence,” University Hall was built in 1770. A government stable and barrack during the Revolution, it has been a beacon-light ever since.

We said not much might have been expected of little Rhody, by common rules of historic proportion, but the overt acts of the American Revolution began right here in 1772. The oppressive colonial administration, begun by Grenville, was especially vexatious in Narragansett Bay. The British cruiser Gaspee, attempting an illegal seizure, ran aground on Namquit, since known as Gaspee Point. The news ran like lightning through the town, that the Hawk was fettered on our shore. Four brothers, Nicholas, Joseph, John and Moses, descended from Chad Brown, were all prominent merchants. John was a man of the time. Afterward, his powder, seized in a raid in the British West Indies, arrived in time to be issued in the retreat from Bunker Hill. Brown planned a daring attack on His Majesty’s vessel in James Sabin’s inn. The historic room has been transferred bodily by the Talbots to their home at 209 Williams Street. Eight long-boats were provided by Brown and moved under the command of Abraham Whipple, afterward a commodore in the Revolutionary navy. A boat from Bristol joined the party. Lieutenant Duddingston answered the hail of the patriot raiders and was severely wounded, shedding the first British blood in the War of Independence. Whipple’s men boarded the cruiser, drove the crew below, took them off prisoners, then fired and destroyed the vessel. It shows the firm temper and new American loyalty prevailing in the town, that large rewards brought out no information which would effectively prosecute Brown and Whipple or their fellow offenders. Brown was arrested and imprisoned during the occupation of Boston, but for want of sufficient proof he was discharged.