Cable House with trench dug for cable still visible. Telegrapher George Green is just visible under the trees in the front of the house. He marked his upper bedroom window with a black dot.

Many of you are no doubt are familiar with the Landing of the French Atlantic Cable in Duxbury in 1869, but for those of you who have never heard the tale, gather ‘round…

Once upon a time, before smart phones and email, before telecommunications, before even Marconi’s wireless, there was only one way to communicate immediately to those far, far away – cable telegraph lines.  You may not be surprised to learn that Samuel Morse, of “Morse Code” fame developed and patented the first electric telegraph machine in the US in 1837. But, interestingly, the code for transmitting messages could just have easily been called the “Vail Code” since Morse’s assistant, Alfred Vail, was responsible for it, but such is life when you’re not the boss.  By 1861 almost every point in the United States, from California to New York, was connected via wire.  So long Pony Express, hello telegram.

As amazing as connecting the vast North American continent by wire was, there was still a more daunting feat to be accomplished, a transatlantic cable.  With a Victorian can-do attitude and an initial $1.5 million in capital, businessman Cyrus F. Field, along a group of backers, set out to make the world a bit smaller. It took five attempts and over ten years before the ship, Great Eastern (read more about the ship), successfully laid a 2,000 mile-long cable across the ocean floor from Ireland, bringing it ashore in Newfoundland in 1866.

Once Great Britain and North America were connected, the French sought to have their own exclusive means of transatlantic communication.  As with the Anglo line, the French Atlantic Telegraphic Company used the now tried and true Great Eastern.  The French cable was approximately 3,500 miles long – beginning in Brest, France it would travel to the “southern edge of the ‘Grand Banks’; thence to the French island of St. Pierre off the south coast of Newfoundland and thence down past Cape Breton Island and Nova Scotia to Duxbury.”[1] On June 21, 1869 the Great Eastern, accompanied by the ships Chiltern and Scanderia set out on their voyage. Just over a month later, on July 23, 1869 the cable was landed on Duxbury Beach at Rouse’s Hummock.

Landing of the Cable from Frank Leslie’s Illustrated

It was a time of great celebration in Duxbury.  A tent was erected on Abrams Hill with a view of the Hummock. Six hundred guests, including dignitaries from around the state, nation and world converged to wine, dine, listen to speeches and most importantly, to see first hand the wonder of sending and receiving messages from across the sea.  Included in the festivities were Mayor N. B. Shurtleff of Boston and President of the Massachusetts Sentate, George O. Brastow.[2]  Cannons of the Second Massachusetts Light Battery were fired, streamers and flags flew and for a moment the eyes of the world were on this sleepy seaside town.

Map showing the cable route into Duxbury, drawn by telegraph operator George Green, 1869.

The eventual terminus for the cable was the former Duxbury Bank building on the corner of Washington and St. George Streets.  As you can imagine, the early years of the cable office were quite busy and required trained operators, many of whom, like Englishmen Robert Needham and George Green, immigrated to Duxbury along with the cable. Later, Canadian William Facey, the amateur photographer responsible for one of our most-used photo collections, came to work here. These men became some of Duxbury’s most civic-minded residents. After a few years the French Atlantic Cable Company was brought under the fold of the Anglo-American Telegraph Company and later, in 1911, became Western Union.  Over the years other transatlantic cables took away Duxbury’s prominence and business waned. Duxbury’s cable house closed after WWII.

Today the stately home on the Blue Fish River that once housed the cable office is a private residence.  It is still alternately called the “Bank Building” or the “Cable Office” by folks in town…okay, that’s probably not true, it’s called that by a handful of people, including me, but nobody knows what I’m talking about when I say it.  Now you do.

If you would like to learn more about the French Atlantic Cable, you can visit the Drew Archives and view the Robert Needham Collection (DAL.MSS.043), the French Atlantic Cable Collection (DAL.MSS.044), read telegrapher George Green’s own copy of Landing of French Atlantic Cable with his notes, or see the images in the William Facey Collection online at http://www.flickr.com/photos/drewarchives/sets/72157626060922690/

The Duxbury Rural & Historical Society recently acquired this photograph of sculptor John Horrigan with Myles Standish’s head, 1930.

Myles Standish was known to have a hot temper but it was not until 1922[1] that he truly lost his head.  Shortly after noon on a sultry August day an electrical storm caused lightning to strike the 116-foot monument dedicated to the former military leader of the Pilgrims. The bolt from the sky caused Myles’ head and arm to topple to the ground.

There was no great push to replace his missing granite anatomy so Myles stood headless over Duxbury for four long years.  In 1926, a new head was created by Boston sculptor John Horrigan[2].  Unfortunately the old lightening damaged legs could not support their new addition so back to the quarry it went, along with an order for stronger lower limbs.[3]  Finally, in 1930, an almost completely remade Myles Standish was placed back atop his perch (his outstretched arm and possibly torso are the only remaining parts of the original statue).

While the damage to its statue was catastrophic, the beheading of Myles Standish was only one in a series of misfortunes suffered by the Monument – and some would say it continues to suffer.  The Monument was conceived not by a Duxbury resident but rather by J. Henry Stickney of Baltimore, an admirer of Capt. Standish.  The land atop Captain’s Hill, formerly owned by Standish, was deemed the most appropriate spot to place a memorial. Architect Alden Frink’s design called for a 100′ monument topped with a 14′ statue (with two feet between the parapet and the statue, making it 116′ total). Garnering support and enough money to begin the project, the cornerstone was laid on October 7, 1872, with much fanfare and even Masonic ceremonies, in front of 10,000 onlookers.  But, after an expenditure of $27,000 the monument was still only 72 feet high.  Interest and money waned and it stood half complete until a second wave of donors saw the monument finished in 1898.  When you look at the two shades of granite, you can tell exactly where construction originally halted.

Standish Monument, c. 1900

By 1920 the Monument and statue were in disrepair.  Dr. Horton, the President of the Standish Monument Association, sought $10,000 from the State for repairs and landscaping.  According to Thomas Weston’s autobiography, the State could offer no assistance unless it acquired the monument.  After persuading the Association deed the land over, a bill was signed by Gov. Calvin Coolidge, allowing for Massachusetts to become its owner and caretaker. [4]  Thus, when Myles lost his head, the State got the bill.

Today the State still gets the bill, but with so many other pressing responsibilities, the upkeep and opening of the Myles Standish Monument has become a bit overlooked.  Despite this, however,  Myles, with his reconstructed head and body, still stands tall.

Page of Ardelia E. Ripley’s Practice Account Book, 1856.

In 1856 seventeen-year-old Ardelia E.Ripley (1839-1899), the daughter of Samuel E. Ripley and Sarah Cushman[1], was a student at Partridge Academy in Duxbury. Her Common School Book-Keeping Being a Practical System by Single Entry; Designed for the use of Public Schools by Charles Northend (1853) can be found at the Drew Archives. It is a wonderful example of how students learned the art of basic accounting. While we have numerous day-books and journals used by adults of the period, it is unusual to see one that demonstrates the learning process. Practice books are often thrown away long before they make it into an archival collection.

What I find fascinating about the book is what it tells us about society in the 1850’s. Here, in neat script, is a full listing of all the items a person might consider purchasing along with their cost. Duxbury was no longer the prosperous shipbuilding mecca it had once been, but that did not mean its inhabitants didn’t still pine for kid gloves and cashmere. Using her classmates and relations as fictitious “customers” Ardelia itemized a veritable Ante-bellum wish-list. Classmate Frederick Bryant, for example, lavishly spent $6.00 on “1 pair of pantaloons for my hired man” but also more sensibly required coarse salt at 1 ¾ per pound, and even a “white wash brush” for $.63. Girlfriends like Josephine Thomas bought “muslin de laine ($.31 per yard), 2 skeins of silk ($.08).” Ardelia’s young cousin, Walter F. Cushman, required a “silk handkerchief ($.50) and a cravat ($1.50).” Older family acquaintances also made it into her accounts, Capt. George P. Richardson was a regular customer, buying “kid gloves ($.75), 29 yards of carpeting ($21.00), a satin vest ($3.25), 1 yard cambric ($.10) and ½ dozen buttons ($.03)” all in one day. In total Ardelia kept her account book for four months, had eleven customers and over 150 entries with hundreds of line-items. While I have not vetted the prices she ascribed to them, the items themselves are a boon to any researcher interested in knowing what was available to purchase in America at that time.

Ardelia E. Ripley Hall (1839-1899)

Almost equally as fascinating to me are the people Ardelia Ripley chose to include in her assignment and how they fit into Duxbury history. For example, friend Joseph E. Simmons, who’s name is one of the most prominent in the accounts, would one day die in the Civil War at the Second Battle of Bull Run (see the Duxbury in the Civil War article). Captains George P. Richardson and Daniel L. Winsor were prominent civic leaders. Walter F. Cushman grew up to marry Ardelia’s daughter, Lucie. In 1860, Ardelia herself would marry the keeper of the Gurnet Light House, George H. Hall, and have six children. Her son, Captain Parker J. Hall, was one of the most colorful people to ever live in Duxbury (more on him in a future post).

Portrait of Lloyd Granville Sampson by Cephas Thompson, 1832.

I had fully intended to share a love poem or letter today from one of our collections in honor of Valentine’s Day. But what I found instead was simply too good to pass up.  In 1829, when he was just 21 years old, Lloyd Granville Sampson (1808-1838) penned an essay and poem about the joys of being a bachelor.  He obviously could not see 3 years into the future or he would have known he would be leaving the “state of single blessedness” by marrying the lovely Mary Winsor.  I wonder if she had any inkling of his views on marriage?

Based on Sampson’s other writing we can assume the following is a bit tongue-in-cheek.  He also seems to protest a bit too much, perhaps he was mending a broken heart.  Whatever the reason, I hope you enjoy this very un-Valentine’s day post.

Written in behalf of the fraternity of Bachelors

Know all to whom these presents my come that I am a Bachelor, that I have lived long in a state of “single blessedness” and in that state I shall die.  I know not how happy a matrimonial life may be, yet I know how peaceful is that of a Bachelor. The former may be pleasing, the latter is well known to me to be so.  The double man may avoid many evils, the single man is sure to avoid one.  In short I know of no life so well calculated for the comfort and care of man as a single one, when evening comes and the sun has quietly gone to rest, it is then the state of single blessedness is most dear to me.  Then there is a comfort in running over past events long gone by, and a delight in anticipating the future.  The Bachelor goes to his “round-a-bout” and takes his care, look at him as he sits with his head inclined upon his elbow puffing a friendly cigar, he has not a scolding wife no disobedient child no few cents for milk, no yelping brats to distract and perplex him, but goes to his bed a quietly as the sun faces the west.  True it is the single man will have not long train to follow him to his “last home” no tears from a “better half” to wet the turf which covers his grave – yet for all this I am a Bachelor – the troubles of the double man will come upon him while the single man is at ease and without care.  When the storm beat upon our casements and  the winds whistle round our dwellings, then the troubles of the married man should be recollected.  While the Bachelor sits peacefully by his fire “now and then” disturbing the burning embers with the friendly poker.  The one may experience many anxious hours for a son at sea or for the indisposition of a child, the other is free from all these anxious hours and a deal of leisure to “patch stich [sic] and darn”

A single life the life for me,

How, dearly I do love it,

Free as the air I’ll live & die,

If I leave no heir behind me.

The man without a wife is blest

His life is one continued rest

Free from family, care & strife

He’s merry and happy without a wife

Adeline Baker (1829-1856) grew up in the Crooked Lane neighborhood in North Duxbury, near the Marshfield line.  As a neighbor of Daniel Webster, the great statesman’s death shook her community.  She picked the day of Webster’s funeral to begin her diary: 

October 29^th 1852

A more beautiful morn than this could not be desired even by the most fastidious.  And a great event has this day taken place in our own quiet county of Plymouth in our own sister town, Marshfield.  And event which will not only be pondered upon in its minutest details by our whole Nation, but the World will hear of it.

This day, this twenty-ninth of October Eighteen Hundred & Fifty-two, the mortal remains of Daniel Webster have been committed to the silent tomb…”

After such a lofty start, Adeline’s diary settles in to a more simplified tone.  She records her visits, chores and family events. Perhaps the most significant event in her own life came on January 6, 1853, the day she married William N. Jameson.  Weddings were not the extravagant affairs they are today.  Adeline’s entry of that day is rather matter of fact,  ”This day has been rather a hurrying time. Jameson came over this afternoon. Daniel and Edward came home tonight. Father and Mother, Daniel, his wife, Edward, Levi, Wallace and Amanda all went to Mrs. Alden’s to see me married.”  The couple moved to Plymouth where Jameson owned a store and Adeline kept up her journal until April, 1854.

Unfortunately, any happiness she had as the wife of a young merchant was short-lived. Jameson died of consumption in 1855 and Adeline returned to her parent’s house. She died the following year at the age of 27.

Adeline Baker’s journal is part of the Capt. Edward Baker Collection (you can read Edward’s Civil War diary on his Facebook page ). Her journal spans almost two years and is wonderful glimpse into the day-to-day life of a young, 19th century woman.

Paris, 1850-1870

Paris, Dec 25, 1850

Dear Uncle,

It is Christmas today and I have just come from the Church of St. Roch where high mass was performed. The church was crowded and it was difficult to get inside but I made little progress by degrees and finally came as far as the pulpit in the middle of the church. The music was very fine and this church is celebrated for its fine music, there being many Opera singers who sing here. Tonight at twelve o’clock I shall go to the cathedral of Notre Dame and witness the ceremony and hear the music there.

Your letter of the 10th of November I recieved on Friday a day or two after I wrote you my last letter Dec 12. The steamer had a longer passage than usual. I recieved also a newspaper the Boston Atlas on Sunday after I recieved your letter.

Before I received your letter I had decided to write the next one to you about money affairs, and I will commence that subject from my first arrival at Antwerp.

I arrived at Antwerp on Tuesday, July 2nd having twenty pounds which I got in New York.  This lasted during my stay in Antwerp, my journey to Colgne, voyage up the Rhine to Geneva in Switzerland.  Here I drew or rather borrowed from Mr. Budington twenty pounds, as I then had no letter of credit.  When I started from Antwerp I had no thought of going to Switzerland and thought that twenty pounds would be sufficient.  But when I was at Frankfurt I went on to Heidelberg and then to Baden Baden and was going to return, but Mr. Budington persuaded me to go on.  I told him I did not think of going to Switzerland when I left Antwerp and had not money enough and therefore could not go.  He said that would make no difference, he would lend it to me and Mr. Crafts said the same.  Having then much good credit I continued on.  I thought it was very good credit for such short acquaintance.  I then wrote to Baring & Brothers giving him the following names of the places I intended visiting.  Geneva, Milan, Amsterdam, Paris.

I received my letter of credit at Berne in Switzerland.  We did not go to Milan as we had not the Austrian visa.  On our arrival at Amersterdam I went to Mssrs Hope & Co and drew twelve pounds.  I gave my note to Mr. Budington and when he arrived in London he obtained the twenty pounds from Baring & Brothers.  I then came to Paris [Seth includes a lenghthy description of his funds and expenditures]…

I expect now to remain in Paris until the last of June and then go to London.  I may spend July or not go until July and spend August.  So the great part of the rest of my months will be spent in Paris. My expenses here are something near three hundred francs a month.  I pay for my room forty francs per month.  The expense for clothes are about the same as in Boston which I have not reckoned in to the account.  If I purchase many books that also is extra.  Concerning postage, new paper is 7 sous. I think I wrote you in one of my first letters that all letters were double which weigh more than one quarter of an ounce.  The first letter I wrote you on that very thin paper consisting of two sheets to a letter were single, weighing less that 1/4 ounce.  Two sheets of this paper, such as this letter is written on would be close to double postage.  Your last letter of two sheets was a double one and the postage of it was three francs.  Greene & Co change 1/2 or 1 franc for sending it which makes the postage 4 francs for a double letter.  The postage for a single letter from there to the United States is 1 1/2 francs or thirty sous and I am obliged to pay for all the letters that I send as well as for those I receive.  A letter to England does not require to be pre-paid if it goes by the way of Enlgand, as by Liverpool steamers.  There is a steamer or steamers that run between Hause and New York and a letter sent by them does not require to be prepaid entirely.  One pays only twelve sous, the rest of the postage is paid in America.  So you see letter writing is rather expensive for me for I must pay the postage both ways.  I wrote you in my last or one before the last that Greene & Co charged for four letters that I have received twelve francs; two were single and two double or weighed over 1/4 oz.  If you direct to No. 35 Rue de Tournon my letters will cost less.

As for my plans for the future, they are something like this, which I submit to you.  I propose to remain in Paris until June or July and then go to London as the Exposition continues there for several months.  I shall get underway in French and in my medical courses in the spring and I think it would be better not to break them off by going to London in first of May.  The month of July I might spend in London, England.  I should like on some account to spend three months in Dublin – Aug, Sept, Oct.  November would be a good month in which to go to Rome. In December return to Paris and spend the winter.  When I know more about it I will write you.  What do you think of that plan? I do not propose to travel extensively.  I should like to go to Rome, Venice, Naples, Milan and Florence, all in Italy. In England, London, Liverpool, Edinburg, Dublin and wander al little away the heaths of Scotland.

Yours affectionately,
S. L. Sprague

I received Aunt Sprague’s lette in very good season last Tuesday 24 Dec and will answer it in two or three weeks.

I want to hear all about the fair, and I presume you will write all the particulars.  I hope you made some money by it, as much as you want.

Capt. Gershom Bradford (Martha’s Vineyard) to his wife, Sarah Hickling Bradford (Duxbury, MA), November 14, 1812.

The largest collection by far held at the Drew Archival Library is that of the Bradford Family.  It spans 200 years, has hundreds of letters, photographs, shipping papers, journals, etc, etc.  It is the go-to collection here when I need to know anything about Duxbury history – each generation of the family was heavily involved in social movements, town politics and, dare I say it, gossip.  So, when I thought it might be fun to scan something from 200 years ago today, I immediately went to see what a Bradford had to say.  The following is a brief love letter Captain Gershom Bradford (1774-1844) penned to his wife, Sarah Hickling Bradford (1772-1861), before heading to Boston aboard the brig Patriot.  The Captain was away quite a bit as a master mariner during their early marriage.  At the time of this letter Sarah would have been pregnant with their fourth daughter, Charlotte (the Civil War nurse).

You will notice the “B-” written atop the scanned image.  Much of the Bradford correspondence was graded by descendent, also named Gershom Bradford. The B- might seem a poor grade for such a lovely little note but, given the length and topics of other letters, it was probably a fair assessment in his eyes.

Martha’s Vineyard

November 14^th, 1812

Holmes-hole

Dear Wife,

I arrived here yesterday and was at great mind this morning to have set out and come to Duxbury and spend Saturday night with you and back again tomorrow but thinking there might be a fair wind before I got back and if so Mr. [Samuel] Frazar might look cross at your handsome face for entreeing [sic] me away from my duty so on the whole concluded best to remain onboard and make my self as merry as posable [sic] but at best that is very dull when absent from you tell the little girls that father is coming with a proper good smaking [sic] kiss for them and one for mother [page torn] goodnight may pleasant dreams attend my love and be realized

Yours, Gershom Bradford

Judith Winsor Smtih

For two long hours on election day, not

                long ago

She stood where the voters

                streamed past in a row.

And gave suffrage leaflets to all who

                would take them

Now isn’t she plucky, and good as

                they make them?

Poem to Judith Winsor Smith on her 90^th birthday  by Alice Stone Blackwell, 1919

As I sit at the Wright Building today I can see the traffic congestion caused by voters attempting to navigate their way into a parking spot at Duxbury Middle School.  Despite the frustration it caused me this morning getting to work, I am happy to see so many of my fellow townsfolk coming out to exercise their right to cast a ballot.  Universal suffrage was not always the case in this country and there were many who came before us who had to struggle for what we are sometimes so blasé about today.  One such person was Judith Winsor Smith.  Smith was a Duxbury woman who fought along side Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton but, unlike them, lived to see the day when all women could vote – and did so herself at age 99.

Judith Winsor (McLauthlin) Smith was born in Marshfield, MA in 1821.  Her father, Lewis McLauthlin, was the groundskeeper for the shipbuilder Ezra “King Caesar” Weston and her mother, Polly, was the daughter of the Duxbury portrait painter/doctor, Rufus Hathaway.  Judith moved to Duxbury as a young teacher, boarding in the home of Maj. Judah Alden.  She married Sylvanus Smith in 1841 and spent her early married life here.  The couple later moved to Noodle Island (East Boston) where there were more opportunities for shipbuilders such as Sylvanus.  Much later, as an elderly widow, Judith moved to Jamaica Plain to live with her daughter, Zilpha Drew Smith.

Smith was a true 19^th century reformer.  She was an abolitionist as well as a member of the Standing Committee of Theodore Parker’s society.  But it was in the fight for votes for women that she labored the longest.  She was the president for many years of the East Boston Woman Suffrage League and a member of the executive committee of the Massachusetts, New England and American Suffrage Associations.  At the age of 92 she addressed a crowd gathered together in Post Office Square by the Boston Equal Suffrage Association.  The following year she marched in Boston with Alice Stone Blackwell and Ellen Wright Garrison.  Finally, in 1920 she was able to cast her first ballot.  She died the next year at age 100.

So, today as you are getting out there and rocking the vote, take a moment to thank all those that made it possible, including Judith Winsor Smith.

The image is of a Duxbury, MA gathering. The man on the far right smoking a pipe is George Ellis Hathaway (1851-1944), the grandson of the painter, Rufus Hathaway.  George lived at 95 West Street, although the location of the photo is uncertain.  The photograph was taken by F. S. Needham of Duxbury.  Based on the style of dress on the women (the loose drooping sleeves above the elbow, for example) the photo is c. 1893-1896.  I love everything about it – the rich velvet fabric on the shoulders of the woman seated on the left; the pug and jack russell terriers, both blurred in movement; the smiling faces; the hats.  It’s all wonderful.  I wish I could identify everyone and maybe with a bit more investigation, I will be able to put names to at least one or two more individuals. 

Have you spotted my real dilemma yet?  Take a close look…closer…closer still.  Notice the man standing next to George Ellis Hathaway?  Yes, that’s the one, the one wearing the dress.  I would love to know what is going on there.  Are they a group of amateur actors just finishing a performance?  There does seem to be a certain amount of playfulness on everyone’s face – except for his.  If you have any idea what the true subject of this photograph is or can identify anyone pictured, please let me know.