V3 1634 
 
'v^ EHODE ISLAND: 
 
 A POEM 
 
 Delivered at tlie Annual Reunion 
 
 ][ha(l^ [sland lBSO([iation of |^alifornia, 
 
 AT FASSKING'S GARDENS, ALAMEDA, 
 
 October 7, 1876. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES H. DENISON. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 Bacon & Company, Book ant) Job Printers. 
 
 1876. 
 

^ARGUMENT.O 
 
 The name and productions of the State. 
 Building of the old Tower of Newport. 
 Banishment and Wanderings of Roger Williams. 
 The sufferings of the infant State tend to strengthen it. 
 The terrible " Narragansett Fight" at South Kingstown. 
 
 6. Ballad of the " Devil's Rock" in North Kingstown. 
 
 7. King Phillip retires to " Mount Hope," and dies by Treason. 
 
 8. Centennial Day, and the heroes of the Revolution. 
 
 9. The young Warwick blacksmith, who hammered Karl Corn- 
 
 wallis and received blows in return. 
 
 10. The Mansion House and story of a Shipwreck. 
 
 11. The good old Deacon and his treasure-trove. 
 
 12. Perry's Victory on Lake Erie, war of 1812. 
 
 13. The Sons of Rhode Island in the Civil War. 
 
 14. The City on the Bay. Closing. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 There is a State whose southern bound 
 Infringes on Long Island Sound : 
 Where "Johnny Cakes" are legal tender, 
 Where six per cent, is paid the lender ; 
 Its islands white with frisking lambs, 
 Whose sand-banks discount long blue clams 
 Its shores abounding with Quahaug, 
 Its waters swarming with Tautaug ; 
 Where maidens' cheeks, like roses red, 
 Are matched by boys on corn-cakes fed ; 
 This little State — you 've heard its fame — 
 Rhode Island is its well known name. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Before Columbus saw our land, 
 The Northmen touched its rocky strand : (r) 
 An indication of that hour 
 Is seen in Newport's lonely Tower, 
 Erected on Aquidneck Hill. 
 Irreverence calls it a " Mill," 
 But ancient maps and records said 
 'T was built by Eirek, named " the Red" ; 
 And Dighton Rock inscription proves, 
 The Northmen there made warlike moves. 
 Perhaps they wintered in the Bay 
 And built this tower in which to pray 
 To their strange gods — no man can tell : 
 The ages keep the secret well. 
 
 'T was on a dreary winter's day, 
 A banished pilgrim groped his way, 
 Through blinding snow and stinging sleet, 
 With heart depressed with weary feet. 
 A persecuted, friendless man, 
 Escaping from religious ban, 
 Amid the savage wastes to plant 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Religious freedom ! Far from haunt 
 Of men more stern than those from whom 
 He fled in days of Enghmd's gloom. 
 'T was sixteen hundred thirty-six, 
 The day of month we cannot fix, (2) 
 This man of nerve, unknown to fame, 
 Reached the bleak shore, from whence there came 
 A noble savage without fear, 
 Who spoke the welcome words, " What Cheer ! " 
 
 Each struggle of our infant State 
 You'll not expect me to relate ; 
 It had its time of deep depression, 
 Advancing now, now retrogression : 
 No State before had made its goal 
 The largest " Liberty of Soul ! " 
 No State had laid such broad foundation 
 As this young " Providence Plantation ! " 
 
 What! allow a man himself to think 
 What he should eat, or wear, or drink ? 
 What creed accept, what church attend ? 
 
J^HODE ISLAND. 
 
 Such latitude would never end 
 Until the men throughout the State 
 Would dare dispute the magistrate ! * 
 
 To check this daring innovation 
 Increasing fast in this " Plantation," 
 Became the object and intent 
 To which each bigot's aid was lent. 
 The persecution quickly came — 
 As usual, in Christ's holy name — 
 As snow-flakes thrown against a rock, 
 Our State their puny efforts mock, 
 Until, like some young oak, which stoo 
 Detached from all its brotherhood, 
 The more assailed by furious storm, 
 The sturdier grows its stately form ; 
 At length becomes a towering giant, 
 Unconquered, and yet more defiant, 
 Because its deepening roots take earth 
 Where freedom of the soil has birth. 
 
 * Cotton Mather's expression. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 So on I pass, in proper order, 
 To tell of tales within our border, 
 Relating each important story 
 Of fact and fiction, war and glory. 
 
 Just forty years had passed away, 
 
 When, on another wintry day, 
 
 Battalions — led by men as brave 
 
 As ever filled a soldier's grave — 
 
 Through storm of sleet, through blinding snow, 
 
 Marched out to meet their savage foe, 
 
 Who, camped on island-fortress, wait 
 
 With rifle aimed by deadly hate, 
 
 With arrow and keen scalping knife. 
 
 To take their foremost foeman's life. 
 
 Yet onward press this daring band. 
 
 With banners and uplifted brand, 
 
 Until a swampy plain they reach (3) 
 
 Through which the stagnant waters leach ; 
 
 Then halt, and quick survey the ground, 
 
 Within South Kingstown's inner bound. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 The aep was glistening on the plain, 
 
 The wintry sun was on the wane ; 
 
 Still struggling through the lessening storm 
 
 To send a cheerful ray to warm 
 
 The hearts that soon would be as still 
 
 And silent, as the snow-clad hill. 
 
 That brief survey, that glance around, 
 
 Gave information of the ground. 
 
 Was flung a stagnant ditch across ; 
 At best, precarious support 
 To firmer ground within the fort ; 
 A blockhouse on the inside stood, 
 With ports protected by the wood. 
 This narrow causeway all must face 
 To gain an entrance to the place. 
 A strong abbattis, chevaux-de-frise. 
 Made from the tops of fallen trees, 
 In width some more than fifteen feet, 
 Encircling until both ends meet 
 The island round ; — outside, a moat 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 So wide that eight canoes could float 
 Abreast, upon its sluggish tide 
 Before they touched the other side. 
 Inside the moat, huge tubs of grain, 
 Defended from the leaden rain. 
 Arranged in tiers, piled end on end. 
 The dwellings better to defend. 
 Behind this rampart, quiet lay, 
 Like tigers anxious for their prey, 
 The savage foes ; and silent wait 
 To consummate their deadly hate. 
 
 The wind had ceased, the snow lay still. 
 On meadow, and on far-off hill, 
 ^ Concealing from all human sight, 
 
 With fleecy mantle, pure and white, 
 
 All faults and pit-falls of the land, 
 
 As waves make smooth the shifting sand. 
 
 The forest tops no longer bent, 
 y- Until by furious tempest rent ; 
 
 The feathery cloud upon the trees, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Unshaken by the whistling breeze, 
 Remained Hke peaceful banners white 
 That waved between the deadly fight, 
 While all unseen, hid deep below, 
 And silent yet, the lurking foe ; — 
 So broods the deathlike stillness o'er 
 The glassy sea, ere tempests roar ; 
 So serpents hide beneath the flower 
 To strike the traveler's fatal hour. 
 
 As waves when dashed upon a rock. 
 Are shattered by the dreadful shock, 
 With strength renewed again return, 
 Essaying still with effort stern, 
 To move the firm impediment 
 Until the earth-bound rock is rent — 
 So our brave men, that fatal day, 
 P^ssayed to pass that dread causeway ; 
 Three times from off" its surface swept, 
 The enemy his fortress kept — 
 Six English captains death laid low, 
 That day, upon the crimson snow. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. I3 
 
 The warriors swarmed inside the pass, 
 Like hornets from their nest, en masse ; 
 Their yells resounded through the air, 
 As if a thousand fiends dwelt there. 
 And from their lairs within the place. 
 Might issue to destroy our race. 
 
 But sound alone could never swerve 
 From purpose stern those men of nerve. 
 Conclusions fierce they came to try. 
 And conquer there they would — or die. 
 The arrows whistled o'er the pass. 
 They issued from the dense morass, 
 And swept from island to the main, 
 Like shadowy clouds o'er summer's grain 
 So dark ! it seemed the storm once more 
 Might soon succeed the battle's roar. 
 
 The deadly rifle gave reply, 
 
 Its echoing voice ascending high, 
 
 Sometimes in volleys, oft alone, 
 
 2 
 
 m 
 
14 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Succeeded by an answering groan ; 
 Discordant voices now would die, 
 Tiien rise and fill the trembling sky, 
 Until, with thickening smoke and Hame, 
 The place a very hdl became. 
 
 While here in front the fight was waged 
 
 At other points it fiercely raged. 
 
 Brave Moseley found a way to float 
 
 His daring men across the moat, 
 
 And crawling through the deep stockade 
 
 Agreeable diversion made ; 
 
 Till soon the words, " They run ! they run 
 
 Resounding, told the Fort was won, 
 
 And matted dwellings swept by fire 
 
 Became the red man's funeral pyre. 
 
 Our fallen Captains at this Fort 
 Were Johnson, Gallup, Davenport, 
 And Sieley, Marshall, Gardner ; all 
 Rested beneath death's sable pall. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 15 
 
 Our total loss was eighty-five — 
 No Indians remained alive ! 
 
 Of those not killed, some fled away 
 
 Before the ending of the fray. 
 
 Some sank beneath the stagnant, moat, 
 
 But most lay prone on wintry coat 
 
 Of snowy texture — battles done — 
 
 To bleach through wind, and rain, and sun. 
 
 Historians say — 't is sad to tell — 
 
 "A thousand Indians went to Hell ! " 
 
 From greater light we only say. 
 
 They bravely fought, that bloody day. 
 
 They strove for homes, laid down their lives. 
 
 To save their children, brethren, wives. 
 
 Like that melee, there's many a fight 
 
 Where both sides have a show of right. 
 
 Who die for Country, White or Red, 
 
 We number with the patriot dead \ 
 
 White, Red, or Black, who die for others, 
 
 The World acknowledges as brothers : 
 
l6 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 New England or in Dixie's land, 
 
 We clasp with them the friendly hand. 
 
 Long years ago another scene 
 Transpired, not far from " Kingstown Green." 
 'T was when the old '' Devonian Age " 
 Had written on earth's plastic page 
 Its foot-prints legible and plain, 
 AVith silt and sunshine, wind and rain, 
 Until it hardened into rock 
 That now withstands the Earthquake's shock. 
 
 I tell you of a bridal day, 
 
 That happened years ago, that way. 
 
 The maiden's choice was all too late 
 
 To save her from a queenly fate. 
 
 I cannot say this tale is true. 
 
 As told ^ me, I tell it you ; 
 
 Occur it did, in early day, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 17 
 
 If not in this, some other way, 
 
 And if I mix the names and date, 
 
 Condemn it not, have patience, — wait, — 
 
 A poet has a right to say, 
 
 That black is white, that blue is grey / 
 
 Where the sparkhng waters of the beautiful Bay * 
 Reflected the glances of the sun's bright ray 
 Not far from Apponaug, there dwelt a smart maid, 
 A belle of that day, modest, retiring and staid. 
 
 The house had a quiet and romantic air, 
 Although it was something in want of repair. 
 Embosomed in vines, by the side of the road 
 That led from the city and passed the abode ; 
 The roof vvas cruwned high with a chimney of stone. 
 That seemed to be capable of standing alone, 
 'Twas a fine country place, a sailor's snug berth, 
 And handy to travel from over the earth. 
 
 * In early records, the "Devil's Rock" in North Kingstown is men- 
 tioned as a boundary. 
 
10 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 One evening as Polly had set herself down, 
 
 By (he wide opened door, dressed in her best gown, 
 
 Her hair a-la-niode, but not disarranged 
 
 To appear as though it had never been changed, 
 
 Nor flying about as the fashion is now 
 
 Concealing the most of a beautiful brow, 
 
 But dressed with good tallow, made from a sheep. 
 
 And combed in the place that she meant it to keep ; 
 
 No jewels she wore, but the sheen of her eye 
 
 Had the sparkle of glow-worms when evening is nigh, 
 
 And the rose on her cheek, with the tone of her voice, 
 
 Made Benedicts sorrow their own hasty choice. 
 
 She was six feet in height, her eyes they were blue. 
 And to tell you the truth, m.u. a little askew. — 
 1 've never yet mentioned her feet or her hand. 
 But the former, they said, — wanted jjlenty of land. 
 After all, she looked wholesome if not very gay, 
 Yet would not compare with the girls of our day. 
 
 As evening drew on, a Teamster came down 
 The hill near the house, just returning from town ; 
 
RHODE ISLAND. IQ 
 
 He Stopped his Ox team by Apponaug's daughter 
 
 And poHtely requested a drink of cold water. 
 
 He was covered with dust, was dressed in a smock, 
 
 That looked as in laundries he never took stock, 
 
 Notwithstanding all that he seemed a good fellow. 
 
 With complexion half way between blue and yellow, 
 
 So the girl hurried off to grant his request, 
 
 Her face wreathed in smiles, and she looking her best. 
 
 She quickly returned with a mug of sweet cider 
 Which caused him to open his eyes and mouth wider, 
 When down went the liquid in sweet gurgling tones : — 
 And the mug was as dry as the dust of the zones. 
 
 In an instant the form of a monster he took — * 
 The maid with affright and astonishment shook, 
 As she gazed at his face, her eyes full of tears, 
 His nose like the claw of a lobster appears, 
 A shock of thick eel-grass surrounded his head, 
 His beard of fine coral, a bright flaming red, 
 
 * This ballad is public property, and the story has been written be- 
 fore now, but in different language and metre. 
 
20 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 His teeth like barnacles, that cling to a ship — 
 
 To which beauly now add a very thick lip, 
 
 And two clam-shells immense which served him for ears, 
 
 And you have the ensemble exciting her fears. 
 
 His resonant voice when he spoke was as loud. 
 As the thunder that rolls from the dark tempest cloud. 
 It threw down the chimney with a terrible crash 
 And broke several windows, including the sash. 
 
 " I'm King of the Bay," he said, "pretty maiden, 
 
 And I rule over all the Tautaug and Menhaden, 
 
 I 'm tired, my dear girl, of a bachelor's life, 
 
 And have fully determined to make you my wife. 
 
 You shall rule all the eels and small-fry, and ride 
 
 On the back of a Dolphin, a beautiful bride, 
 
 While my subjects shall gaze with mouths opened wider, 
 
 Than mine when I drank up your mug of sweet cider. 
 
 Then he caught her while screaming with terror and fright, 
 
 And to North Kingstown brought her that very same night. 
 
 And there from a rock, with Apponaug's daughter, 
 
 He sprang with a yell beneath the blue water, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 And the prints of his feet, as the wiseacres say, 
 Impressed in the rock, have remained to this day, 
 And her scream is still heard along the old beach 
 At twilight's lone hour, like the osprey's shrill screech. 
 
 Who disbelieve this tale, I say. 
 To Kingstown go, and see to-day 
 The self-same rock with foot-prints fair 
 As sculptor e'er could chisel there. 
 And sitting yet, by open door, 
 Much fairer maidens than of yore. 
 Who, patient, wait from day to day 
 The coming of the " King o' the Bay." 
 
 A postscript I will add, just here, 
 Or, rather whisper in the ear, 
 To bachelors of every Nation, 
 This most important information. 
 
 Rhode Island girls are housewives neat. 
 In Castle Hall, or Cottage sweet : 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Familiar are their hands to make 
 A silken dress, or "johnny cake." 
 
 You 've seen the beauteous damask rose, 
 The lil}', white as Alpine snows, 
 And both, when tinged by rising sun, 
 Their glories mingled into one.-* 
 Complexions of such white and red, 
 With golden halo o'er them shed. 
 Where e'er Rhode Island girls you find 
 These glorious beauties are combined. 
 Yet, not alone of blondes I sing. 
 Some tresses match the raven's wing. 
 As purest gems emit their spark 
 The best, when glittering from the dark, 
 So there are eyes whose flashing light 
 Would guide you through the darkest night. 
 And if by tempests you are cast 
 Upon their shores, and chilled by blast. 
 Their hearts and arms are strong to save. 
 Like Ida Lewis, all are brave ! 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 23 
 
 I pass along from gay to grave, 
 
 To finish up my staggering stave ; — 
 
 Since " Kingstown Fight," historic made 
 
 By desperate valor there displayed, 
 
 Where dread Wampanoag's kingly son, 
 
 So quickly fled, when fight we won, 
 
 To Bristol's beauteous " Mount of Hope," 
 
 Escaping when he could not cope 
 
 In numbers, or with weapons crude, 
 
 And deeply hid beneath the wood. 
 
 Until his blood by Treason's hand 
 
 Was spilled upon the shuddering land ; — 
 
 Had passed two hundred years away, 
 
 Which brings us to Centennial day. 
 
 In eighteen hundred seventy-six. 
 
 Midsummer's day our drink we mix, 
 
 To celebrate a freeman's right 
 
 To pay illegal tax, or fight. 
 
 Our Fathers chose to fight, and we 
 
 Enjoy their dear-bought liberty. 
 
24 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 We glory in those men of yore, 
 Who drove the hirelings from our shore, 
 Who flung our banner to the breeze. 
 Who built our towns, uprooted trees, 
 And scattered wide the golden grain, 
 From Alabama, north to Maine ; 
 And formed for us this mighty Nation, 
 Fair Freedom's last and best creation 
 
 And now, to-day, with mother land 
 And nations all, we shake the hand. 
 But let me in brief terms relate, 
 Our Fathers' struggles for the State, 
 Beginning first at Lexington 
 Until at Yorktown they had won. 
 
 I ask you to remember still 
 
 The fierce attack at " Bunker Hill," 
 
 Where Putnam fought, where Warren fell, 
 
 Where monumental tablets tell 
 
 Suceeding generations how 
 
 Those patriots fulfilled their vow, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 25 
 
 And those who could not do the fighting 
 
 Put down their stern resolves in writing. 
 
 John Hancock made a heavy scrawl, 
 
 Like plain handwriting on the wall ; 
 
 Our Hopkins wrote a trembling hand, 
 
 Like insect straggling o'er the sand : 
 
 The Adamses, and Roger Sherman 
 
 Cared nothing for King George, the German, 
 
 And Franklin, of the lightning hand. 
 
 Inscribed his name, and took his stand, 
 
 With Jefferson, and all the others ; 
 
 A most determined band of brothers. 
 
 I cannot call their names all here, 
 
 On sacred Roll they now appear, 
 
 And he who runs may see them there. 
 
 As plain as lightning scroll in air. 
 
 Those stern resolves, so firmly made. 
 
 Flashed out like glittering falchion blade. 
 
 Like thunder-bolts they moved the world, 
 
 And Tyrants from their thrones have hurled. 
 3 
 
26 RHODE ISLAND 
 
 In seventeen hundred sixty-four, 
 I take you out to Warwick's shore, 
 They called it " Potowomot" then, 
 And liked the name — those sturdy men 
 
 There stood on edge ot sparkling stream 
 A Mill and Forge, with heavy beam ; 
 The wheel was driven by water-power, 
 To give the neighbors good rye fiour, 
 The heavy fall of great trip hammer 
 Sent through the trembling air its clamor. 
 While forging for the fishermen, 
 The bolts and anchors needed then. 
 
 Loud rings the anvil in the shop ; 
 
 We will not pass it by, but stop. 
 
 Within the compass. of the hut 
 
 A vulcan stands, begrimed with smut. 
 
 Swings round his head the ponderous sledge, 
 
 And drops it on the fiery wedge, 
 
 Until, between the two, it shows 
 
 How much is done by vigorous blows. 
 
RHODE ISL/«SrD. 2"] 
 
 Between the pauses of the heat 
 This youth ingenious made a seat,* 
 Where, waiting for his turn to strike, 
 He studied use of sword and pike, 
 Examined warlike movements, read 
 And stored them in his well-poised head, 
 'i'his was Rhode Island's gifted son, 
 Who closely stood by Washington ; 
 In history his name is seen, 
 They call him, " brave Nathaniel Greene ! " 
 Of peaceful Friends his true extraction, 
 But more like warlike Knight, his action. 
 He put the British troops " to school " — 
 The Earl found him no Yankee fool. 
 
 In words of patriotic song — 
 Correct me if I quote it wrong — 
 " Cornwallis led a country dance, 
 " Much retrogade, and much advance, 
 
 * The old ftirge with his seat is well known to some of the pres- 
 ent generation. 
 
28 rhI)de island. 
 
 "The like thereof was never seen, 
 " His partner was Nathaniel Greene." 
 
 Through " Carolines " Greene's steps were bent 
 
 Like arrow from the bowstring sent, 
 
 Across Catawba, Yadkin, Dan, 
 
 In swift pursuit Cornwallis ran — 
 
 Their hands disjoined, away they whirl — 
 
 To old Virginia went the Earl, 
 
 Where Washington, his vis-a-vis, 
 
 Soon taught him how to bend the knee, 
 
 And there at Yorktown he did catch it, 
 
 George cut his plumes with his keen hatchet. 
 
 We '11 now dismiss the warlike theme, 
 And go where peaceful waters gleam. 
 Perchance our thoughts, while wandering there, 
 May drink in wisdom from the air ; 
 For who can live where waters roar, 
 And not increase his wisdom's store, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 29 
 
 Or rest where peaceful wavelets reach 
 
 Along the quiet sandy beach, 
 
 And not accept the thoughts they teach ? 
 
 Below some rocks on Charlestown beach, 
 Almost as far as eye can reach, 
 Within tKe sweep of rolling surf, 
 And distant far from emerald turf, 
 Embedded deep in shifting sand 
 That fringes all that Township's land, 
 Are remnants of a noble ship, 
 Around whose ribs the algae drip 
 In graceful streamers, each ebb tide, 
 Like Erin's banners flaunting wide ; 
 While gurgling through her timbeis stout, 
 The briny sea goes in and out. 
 Hissing and spouting all day long. 
 In low, sad tones, a shipwreck song. 
 
 Beyond the reach of swelling tide, 
 
 And just below the green hill-side, 
 
 1* 
 
30 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 In years gone by, an old house stood, 
 Its beams were made of white oak wood, 
 Where hard-wood phis with sharpened point 
 To hold more firmly morticed joint, 
 Were driven through the tenon's side 
 To keep such joints from opening wide ; 
 While at its end, outside, alone 
 A chimney stood, of gray-wacke stone, 
 To keep the mansion-house upright 
 Through heavy tempests, day or night. 
 Fixed in its top a stone of slate 
 Informed you of the builder's date. 
 The outside oven a child in 'teens 
 Might know was used for baking beans. 
 
 The heavy outer oaken door 
 Directly opened on the floor ; 
 No vestibule or " entry " there 
 Protected from the gusty air, 
 Yet summer's sun, or winter's rain, 
 Against its panels beat in vain. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 3 1 
 
 Within, its cheerful owner sat ; 
 Beneath his chair the purring cat ; 
 In front, and glowing at his feet, 
 Was piled on high the burning peat, 
 Diffusing warmth about the room 
 And dissipating winter's gloom. 
 Each chimney corner held a boy, 
 His father's pride, his mother's joy ; 
 And cuddling there, with flaxen curl 
 And azure eye, a laughing girl, 
 Reflection of the mother fair 
 Who sat in her creaking old arm-chair. 
 
 All through that day the murky skies, 
 Had taught a lesson to the wise, 
 And every dweller on that shore, 
 Had listened to the surge's roar; 
 Had seen with dread each hissing wave 
 High up the tiny sand-hills lave ; 
 Observed the crested breakers foam 
 Far seaward with their snowy comb, 
 
32 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 And dashing on with thundering shocks, 
 Break into spray on " Noyes' Rocks." 
 
 In leaden sky went down the sun, 
 Just as the tempest had begun, 
 And now came fiercely o'er the main 
 In dreadful gusts, the blinding rain. 
 
 Through darkness deep, lit up by spray, 
 That faintly showed the dangerous way,. 
 Reeling before the dreadful gale, 
 Without the vestige of a sail, 
 A noble ship came driving fast, 
 Her voyage, finished, at last. 
 
 As avalanche from mountain height, 
 When moving with majestic might, 
 Takes up the crag amid the snow, 
 And hurls it thundering deep below — 
 So this doomed ship on crested wave 
 Was hurled resistless to her grave. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 33 
 
 Striking the outer bar of sand, 
 A lialf mile distant from the land, 
 O'er which the breaking waves ran high, 
 And threw their billows to the sky. 
 
 Describe the scene that there occurred, 
 Repeat the prayers their Maker heard, 
 I cannot ; it would make you pale 
 Ere I recited half the tale : 
 Imagine it, all ye who can, 
 'T was never told by living man. 
 If any heard that dreadful crash, 
 They reckoned it the breakers' dash ; 
 If any heard that dying wail, 
 They thought it shrieking of the gale — 
 No intermission of the roar 
 Of dashing rollers on the shore 
 Gave evidence beneath the waves 
 A score of men had found their graves. 
 About the middle of the night 
 The tempest reached its utmost height, 
 
34 
 
 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 But never failed that light to gleam, 
 Or from that friendly window stream, 
 Until the wind had died away 
 At ushering in the " break o' day,"' 
 When Deacon Wilcox sought his bed, 
 And laid to rest his nodding head. 
 
 Now while the household are asleep, 
 And Angels o'er them vigils keep, 
 Allow me to digress somewhat 
 And tell you of their daily lot — 
 Or rather, tell you of the " Deacon," 
 Of all the country round, the beacon ; 
 A leading man in Church and State, 
 A heart so kind it knew no hate, 
 A splendid man, a loving neighbor, 
 For whom the poor rejoiced to labor ; 
 Yet when he joined with you in trade, 
 He wanted all the profit made — 
 The trouble was his love of money. 
 He thought the hive was all his honey. 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 35 
 
 The Deacon knew his failing well, 
 Would often in church meetings tell, 
 With f^iltering voice and streaming eyes, 
 " He would above this sin arise." 
 
 The kind old man one night arose, 
 'T was just before the meeting's close ; 
 He said, " he knew his carnal mind " 
 " To love of money was inclined. 
 " Resolved he was that very day, 
 "To travel in the better way, 
 " And to his great besetting sin, 
 " Henceforward never more give in ; 
 '• If he had injured friends in trade, 
 " Fair restitution should be made, 
 " And if they'd state the sum in gold, 
 " The recompense should be fourfold.'" 
 
 A neighbor who was present there 
 Heard all his words, so seeming fair ; 
 He treasured up, and took in trust, 
 For future use, those words so just. 
 
36* RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 At early hour next day, he met 
 
 The Deacon, while the grass was wet. 
 
 With accents glad he shook his hand, 
 
 Rejoicing at the noble stand 
 
 So lately taken by his friend, 
 
 And wished the good resolve, no end. 
 
 He said, " he^had a small atiair, 
 
 " Which they would settle, then and there, 
 
 " Concerning that old brindled Ox, 
 
 " Who, cunning as a very fox, 
 
 " Would slip the yoke at every chance, 
 
 " And lead the boys a lively dance ; 
 
 " Or, fiercely plunging at the cow, 
 
 " Cause her to leave the old hay-mow ; 
 
 " It seemed as if the very de-vil, 
 
 " Possessed that brindled ox for evil. 
 
 " When bought, you said he was as kind, 
 
 " As any creature I could find, 
 
 " And represented him to be 
 
 " A pattern of humilit}^ 
 
 " I paid you twenty dollars, gold, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 37 
 
 ■' I do not wish it now fourfold, 
 
 " I only ask to have returned 
 
 " The money that was so hard earned ; 
 
 " Give me the price, the Ox you take, 
 
 " And thus, ' fair restitution ' make." 
 
 These plain complaints the Deacon stirred, 
 
 For he remembered every word. 
 
 Knew them in substance to be true, 
 
 He scratched his head, " what should he do ? " 
 
 He thought the animal was sold, 
 
 For twenty dollars, British gold, 
 
 •' And now he comes, that ugly beef," 
 
 He wished him out far on the reef, 
 
 Beneath two fathoms of salt-water. 
 
 Or that he had been led to slaughter. 
 
 The friend had not much time to wait. 
 
 Before the answer came — 'twas straight. 
 
 And while the words were firm, yet meek. 
 
 The argument was very weak, 
 4 
 
38 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 His smile was sweet, his voice as clear 
 As any that we wish to hear. 
 
 '' Dear Neighbor," thus the Deacon said, 
 
 With cheeks that slightly tiushed with red ; 
 
 " No hoys are we, but full grown men, 
 
 " Our years almost two score and ten, 
 
 " When we upon a trade agree, 
 
 " We never from its terms should flee ; 
 
 " Depend we must upon our eyes, 
 
 •' Use our experience, shrewd and wise ; 
 
 " If we a losing bargain find, 
 
 " We should not be disturbed in mind, 
 
 " But cautious be, take greater care, 
 
 "Thereafter of that friend beware. 
 
 " The words you say you heard me speak 
 
 " Were spoken to sustain the weak 
 
 " Who falter in their daily walk, 
 
 '' Those words, dear friend, were ' Meetin' talk.' "' 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 39 
 
 Like all the dwellers on the shore, 
 
 The Deacon did a wreck deplore, 
 
 With tenderness his heart o'erflowed 
 
 Toward those who on the billows rode ; 
 
 His house was e'er at their command, 
 
 To them he had an open hand, 
 
 His candle on tempestuous night 
 
 Became to them a beacon-light, 
 
 A refuge also, well they knew 
 
 Was offered there to shipwrecked crew — 
 
 But inconsistency again 
 
 In Deacon's character was plain ; 
 
 '• ^Vhatever comes from out the sea," 
 
 He always said, " belongs to me " ; — 
 
 A godsend, was a stranded cargo, 
 
 On which his conscience laid embargo ; — 
 
 His golden rule was thus applied 
 
 To waifs upon the swelling tide : — 
 
 '• The ownership by him is lost, 
 
 " Whose goods in ship are tempest-tost, 
 
40 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 "The ownership in him remains, 
 
 " Who rescues them, and who regains." 
 
 The Deacon slept, while I 've told this 
 In form of a joarenthesis, 
 And ere he wakes, return with me 
 To his old mansion by the sea. 
 
 The dreadful night at length had passed. 
 And cheerful daylight came at last — 
 Ah ! never will the night be o'er 
 To those who floated on the shore. 
 The gale had sensibly decreased, 
 The shrieking of the wind had ceased. 
 But still the scuds drove through the sky, 
 The thundering surges yet dashed high, 
 Though now to all 't was evident. 
 The storm its force had nearly spent. 
 
 What treasure-trove the Deacon gained. 
 That day before the sun had waned, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 4 I 
 
 I never knew, I cannot tell. 
 
 He kept his business close and well. 
 
 t!ut afterward his oak sideboard, 
 
 Had silver plate within it stored, 
 
 And oft deep in his spacious pocket, 
 
 A watch appeared, with golden locket ■ 
 
 When asked if these were heirlooms old, 
 
 This story Deacon Wilcox told. 
 
 And when it was no longer new, 
 
 He might have thought it almost true. 
 
 " As I one day walked on the beach, 
 
 " The line of waves just out of reach, 
 
 " I heard a strange and curious noise, 
 
 " At first I thought it was my boys, 
 
 '' Who imitate the call of birds, 
 
 " The grunting swine, the lowing herds, 
 
 " But looking closer at the matter, 
 
 " I saw it was a silver platter, 
 
 " Which, every time the waves did wash, 
 
 " Gave out the sound ' slop swash ! slop swash !'" 
 
42 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 " Another day I walked along 
 
 " The sandy beach, and hummed a song, 
 
 " Heard something go, ' tick, whiz ! tick, whiz ! 
 
 " Looked down and saw a watch-like phiz ; 
 
 " I snatched it from the moistened sand, 
 
 " And when I had it in my hand 
 
 " I saw a time-piece, quaint and old, 
 
 " Its face and cases, British gold. 
 
 " And well it was I came that way, 
 
 " It had been spoiled another day." 
 
 These stories of the watch and platter 
 Were always sure to end the matter, 
 The questioner, polite, receded — 
 He had the information needed. 
 
 Again went round the circling years, 
 Till eighteen hundred twelve appears 
 The blood upon the frozen snow 
 P'rom patriot feet had ceased to flow, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 43 
 
 And Trenton was a joyful name, 
 To raise a patriotic flame. 
 
 Our Motlier on the continent 
 
 A Treaty signed with us, at Ghent ; 
 
 Yet, though she seemed quite mild and humble, 
 
 Continued still to growl and grumble, 
 
 So long the mistress of the sea, 
 
 She dreaded Yankee energy, 
 
 And soon a question grave arose, 
 
 That made us once again her foes. 
 
 The right our sailors to impress 
 She claimed as hers, without redress ; 
 With sails aback, our ships must wait. 
 Until a boat could come " in state," 
 And then select from out the crew 
 The strongest and the best in view, 
 While " Skippers " stood with hat in hand 
 With honied words and smile as bland, 
 Say "All is right," nor count it loss — 
 Such insults from St. George's Cross. 
 
44 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Mount Vernon's Chief lay with the dead, 
 To rest had FrankHn laid his head, 
 But there were left some old-time teachers, 
 Who knew at glance, tyrannic features ; 
 They knew too well, their Country's flag 
 Was treated like a paltry rag ; 
 They saw that we must fight again, 
 Once more we must our rights maintain, 
 Or counted but as Britain's slaves. 
 Upon the land, and on the waves ; 
 They knew not then — our foes, so merry — 
 We had a Jackson or a Perry. 
 
 Amid the carnage, smoke and flame, (4) 
 With ■' hearts of oak," with loud acclaim, 
 Upon a beauteous western lake, 
 Our Country's flag I saw them take ; 
 And flaunting free in open boat, 
 From sinking ship defiant float ; 
 Within that fragile bark I saw 
 Resistance to tyrannic law, 
 
RHODE ISLAND, 45 
 
 And trembled le^st the cannon's throat 
 Might shatter there the shallow boat. 
 With unbared head he stood upright — 
 The hero of that dreadful fight — 
 Until that tiag from sinking wreck 
 Was hoisted o'er another deck, 
 And streaming out afar and wide, 
 Once more St. George's Cross defied. 
 
 What matter if I do not tell 
 The passing fight ; you know it well : 
 How 'mid the smoke, ^re set of sun, 
 Our Perry had the battle won ; 
 Had sent his famous war dispatch 
 That only once has had its match ; 
 It thrilled the heart of every land, 
 And reached to India's coral strand ; 
 Made strongholds of barbaric power 
 In Tunis and Algeria, cower ; 
 Its brevity so plainly stern. 
 Made tyrants from their courses turn ; 
 Old Arrogance, of every nation, 
 
46 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 Astounded, heard this short relation, 
 
 Divested of rhetoric flowers — 
 
 " We''ve met the cnejjty ; they arc ours ! " 
 
 A few nic?re words I wish to say 
 Before I close my roundelay, 
 To prove that from our native State 
 Her sons do not degenerate. 
 One instance only shall I quote. 
 The time you know, 'tis not remote. 
 
 " Ball's Bluff" the selfsan-^ story told 
 As when our Fathers fought, of old : 
 At first, 't was said with lying breath, 
 " Rhode Island men had fled from death, 
 " And left their guns without a strife 
 " Henceforth to live a coward-life." 
 Our little State was shocked, grew pale 
 While rumors whistled down the gale ; 
 But when that fatal field they sought, 
 When truth the lying rumor caught, 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 47 
 
 They found beneath the silent gun, 
 Rhode Island men who did not run. 
 
 Never again shall slander say 
 
 Of those brave men, they ran away ; 
 
 Never again shall taunt of scorn 
 
 (• Ee cast at men Rhode Island born ! 
 
 But history this fact shall tell. 
 They bravely fought, they nobly fell ; 
 
 / They always stood the battle shock, 
 
 Like firm, Rhode Island, Granite Rock 
 
 My tales of olden times are told ; 
 Some, covered with the ages' mold 
 iMom sire to son are handed down, 
 With yet exceeding great renown ; 
 As thirsty earth the showers retain, 
 So these in youthful minds remain ; 
 And if by true historic fact 
 You strictly measure every act, 
 
48 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 These stories that we heard in youth 
 Would prove to be the words of truth. 
 
 Yet, if you to these scenes should go, 
 
 A contrast great the most would jhow, 
 
 The prints of feet in Kingstown rock, 
 
 Remain the curious sage to mock ; 
 
 The Charlestown beach, the surge's roar. 
 
 You find as in the days of yore ; 
 
 The mansion-house has given way 
 
 To fashion of a later day ; 
 
 The Deacon lies beneath the mound 
 
 Near yonder church, in sacred ground ; 
 
 Where once occurred the " Kingstown fight," 
 
 A grassy meadow, green and bright ; 
 
 No more the warrior crouches there. 
 
 To shout infernal yells in air. 
 
 Where Williams shook the red man's hand 
 Behold a splendid City stand ! 
 Whose institutions any State 
 Might well be proud to imitate ; 
 
RHODE ISLAND. 4Q 
 
 Tall spires her sloping hillsides crown. 
 
 Beside the classic halls of " Brown "; 
 
 The tramp and rush of busy feet 
 
 Resound throughout each welf-paved street; 
 
 To savage yells that filled the skies 
 
 The locomotive now replies: 
 
 The whirling spindles give their hum, 
 
 Where once was heard the Indian drum; 
 
 Two hundred forty years to-day, 
 
 She 's stood resplendent on the bay; 
 
 Long may she stand on " What-cheer Rock," 
 
 Inhabited by Pilgrim stock, 
 
 Religious Freedom's firm defence, 
 
 Our noble City, Providence ! 
 5 
 
NOTES 
 
 (I.) 
 
 An Icelandic historian, Torfaeus, has claimed for his ances- 
 tors the glory of having discovered the New World. A 
 learned work has also been published by the Royal Society of 
 Northern Antiquaries, at Copenhagen, giving an account of 
 the voyages made to America by the Scandinavian North- 
 men, during the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth and four- 
 teenth centuries. From this work, it appears that the ancient 
 Northmen explored a great extent of the eastern coast of 
 North America, repeatedly visited many places in Massachu- 
 setts and Rhode Island ; fought and traded with the natives, 
 and attempted to establish colonies. One place which they 
 called " Vinland " is supposed to have been Rhode Island. 
 It is believed by Pro. C. C. Rafu and Finn Maguussen, that 
 the celebrated inscripton on Dighton Rock was designed as 
 an evidence of the occupancy of the country by the North- 
 men. It is similar to the " picture writing " of the Mexicans ; 
 not to be read, but comprehended. 
 
52 NOTES. 
 
 (2.) 
 
 It was in the spring of 1636 that Roger Williams came over 
 Seekonk river and settled at Providence, landing on " What 
 Cheer Rock." The precise day of the month cannot be ascer- 
 tained, but a letter was written bv him from that settlement 
 bearing the date, July 26th, 1636, O. S. 
 
 He was banished because he insisted upon unlimited tolera- 
 tion, or entire liberty of conscience, the sentence being passed 
 by a council of Ministers and Magistrates, *' as a disturber of 
 the peace of the Church and Commonwealth." He named 
 his " Plantation," " Providence " ; " in a sense of God's mer- 
 ciful providence to him in his distress." 
 
 " The hardships and distress of the poor exiles who fol- 
 lowed him, are hardly to be conceived by the present genera- 
 tion. 
 
 " He was the first person in modern Christendom to main- 
 tain the doctrine of religious liberty and unlimited tolera- 
 tion." [Callender. 
 
 The code of Rhode Island, as taken from its records, estab- 
 lished in 1644, under the first charter from the Earl of War- 
 wick, closes thus : 
 
 " All men may walk as their consciences persuade them, 
 every one in the name of his God. And let the saints of the 
 Most High walk in this Colony without molestation, in the 
 name of Jehovah, their God, forever and forever." 
 
NOTES. 53 
 
 (3-) 
 
 Upon a small island, in an immense swamp in South Kings- 
 town, Rhode Island, Philip had fortified himself in a manner 
 superior to what was common among his countrymen. Here 
 he intended to pass the winter, with his friends. Ihey had 
 erected about 500 Wigwams of a superior construction, in 
 which was deposited a great store of provisions. Baskets, or 
 tubs of corn, made of hollow trees, cut off about the length 
 of a barrel, were piled one upon another around the dwel- 
 lings, to render them bullet proof. About 3000 persons had 
 taken up their winter residence there. The shape of the 
 island was similar to the shell of an oyster. The island was 
 surrounded by a ditch, or moat, containing water. It was on 
 the 19th of December, 1675, when the English marched up to 
 the fortress, and it was also the Sabbath day. The cold was 
 extreme, the air tilled with snow, and it was one o'clock before 
 they arrived in the vicinity of the swamp. There was but 
 one point where it could be assailed with the least probability 
 of success, and that was fortified by a kind of blockhouse, 
 directly in front of the entrance, and had also flankers to 
 cover a cross fire. Besides high palisades, an immense hedge 
 of fallen trees, nearly a rod in thickness, surrounded it, encom- 
 passing an area of about five acres. Between the fort and 
 main land was a body of water, over which a great tree had 
 been felled, on which all must pass and repass, to and from 
 it. On coming to this place, the English soldiers, as many 
 as could pass upon the tree, which would not admit of two 
 abreast, rushed forward upon it, but were swept oft' in a 
 moment by the .lire of Philip's men. Still, the English sol- 
 
54 NOTES. 
 
 diers, led by their Captains, supplied the places of the slain. 
 Again and again were they swept from the fatal avenue. 
 
 Six Captains and a great many men had fallen, and a par- 
 tial but momentary recoil from the face of death took place. 
 Meanwhile a handful, under the fortunate Afose/e}', had, as mi- 
 raculous as it may seem, got within the fort at another place. 
 
 These were contending hand to hand with the Indians, and 
 at fearful odds, when the cry " They run ! they run I " brought 
 to their assistance a considerable body of their fellow soldiers, 
 and the slaughter of Indians became immense. 
 
 Flying from wigwam to wigwam, men, women and children 
 indiscriminately were hewn down, and lay in heaps upon the . 
 snow. Before the fight was over, many of the wigwams 
 were set on fire. Into these, hundreds of innocent women 
 and children had crowded themselves, and perished in the 
 general conflagration. 
 
 Dr. Increase Mather said, in speaking of the fight : 
 
 " We have heard of two-and-twenty Indian Captains, slain 
 all of them, and brought down to hell in one day." 
 
 And in speaking of a Chief, he said : " A bullet took him in 
 the head, and dashed out his brains, sending his cursed soul 
 in a moment amongst the devils and blasphemers, in hell 
 forever." 
 
 (4-) 
 
 Perry was 27 years of age, when, on the loth day of Sep- 
 tember, 1814, the British fleet sailed from Maiden to attack 
 him. His squadron carried in all 54 guns ; the British 
 vessels, si.\ in number, mounted 63 guns, >////e more than 
 
NOTES. 55 
 
 Perry's. On his own ship, the " Lawrence," after every gun 
 but one was rh'smounted, and a large number of his own 
 men killed, he saw the "Niagara," drifting out of the smoke 
 of battle. Leaping into a boat, with his young brother, and 
 standing erect at the helm with his flag flying from his boat, 
 he ordered his men to " give way with a will." The enemy 
 observed the movement, and directed their aim upon the boat. 
 Oars were splintered in the rowers' hands by musket balls, 
 and the men themselves covered with spray from the round 
 shot and grape that smote the water on everv side. Passing 
 swiftly through the iron storm, he reached the '' Niagara " in 
 safety, and flung out his signal for close action. He bore 
 down on the centre of the enemy's line, reserving his fire as 
 he advanced, passing within close pistol range, through the 
 hostile fleet, wrapped in flame as he swept on. Rounding to 
 as he passed the line, he laid his vessel close to two of the 
 enemy's ships, and poured in his rapid fire. 
 
 In fifteen minutes from the time the signal was made from 
 the " Niagara's " spars, the battle was over. A white hand- 
 kerchief waved from the " (^ueen Charlotte " announced the 
 surrender. In his laconic account to the Secretary of the 
 Navy, he used these words : " We have met the enemy, and 
 they are ours ! " Perry was a native of South Kingstown. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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