November 21, 2010
Westport Historical Society Annual Report 2010
President’s Report
2010 started out like most years at the Historical Society – calmly making plans for our usual season of educational programs and the summer exhibition. Then in June everything changed, as the historic Cadman-White-Handy House went on the market, and a group of concerned citizens pleaded for the Society to purchase and preserve this 1710 treasure. While continuing our mission of informative programs, bringing in all the third-graders to the Bell School, and mounting a well-attended exhibition on what Westport women were wearing in the 19th century, the second half of the year was a whirlwind of activity related to the Handy House. Where would we get the money to purchase and rehabilitate the house? How would we make the house accessible to the public? What organizational changes would be required as the Society took on a greatly expanded role?
The Board and our volunteers stepped up to the challenge, and the response from the people of Westport was remarkable. Generous donors came forward, and many people volunteered their time and expertise to help us put together a plan, examine the house and property in detail, and present our application to the Community Preservation Committee (CPC), Finance Committee, Selectmen, and Town Meeting. CPC voted unanimously to fund the acquisition of the property, and at Town Meeting we received overwhelming support.
As our fiscal year ended in September 2010 we were still in the midst of presentations to CPC, and the fate of this project was still up in the air, but as you probably know we are now the proud owners of the Handy House. The coming year will bring a new set of challenges as we start the stabilization of the house and plan a fund raising campaign. With the support and encouragement of our members we look forward to a very special year for the Historical Society.
Tony Connors, President
Members of the board:
Tony Connors, President
Jon Alden, Vice President
Roger Griswold, Treasurer
Betty Slade, Secretary
Members at large:
Carol Coutinho
Yvonne Barr
Elisabeth Mundel
Bill Wyatt
Executive Director: Jenny O’Neill
Director’s report
Our year began with the Cuffe Symposium and ended with our successful bid to acquire the Cadman-White-Handy House. Much of 2010 focused on intensive efforts to secure the Handy House and our organization has now entered a new phase in its growth and potential. Highlights of the past year’s events are detailed below.
Exploring Paul Cuffe: The Man and His Legacy, a public symposium
On Saturday October 3, 200 people gathered at the New Bedford Whaling Museum for a day-long symposium focusing on Paul Cuffe. Presenters included Lamont Thomas, Richard Kugler, Marion Kilson, Ray Rickman, Julie Winch, Valerie Cunningham, David Cole and Kevin Lowther. The conference explored Cuffe’s local relationships, his contemporaries and his activities in Sierra Leone. This project was funded through a grant from the Helen E. Ellis Charitable Trust administered by the Bank of America and through a grant from the Westport Local Cultural Council, a local agency which is supported by the Massachusetts Cultural Council. The event also received support from New Bedford Whaling National Historical Park, the New Bedford Whaling Museum and Lees Market.
Bell School Preservation Project
With funding from the Westport Community Preservation Committee, we were able to begin much needed painting of the exterior of the building. This project will continue into 2011 with work on the bell tower and foundation of the building.
Summer Exhibition: Head to Toe: A Century of Westport Fashion 1800-1900
Westport Historical Society’s summer exhibition opened on Saturday June 12th. “Head to Toe:” explored the transformation of fashion during the 19th century. Exhibition curator, Blair Walker, a textile consultant and graduate of the Textiles Department at University of Rhode Island selected 12 outfits for display. Worn by women in the Westport area, the outfits on display reflected the everyday fashion of the average countrywoman, rather than the finery of city dwellers. She was very ably assisted by Erin Kelly, our UMass Dartmouth intern during the Spring semester. The exhibition attracted nearly 1000 visitors over the summer.
The exhibition explored specific features of dress, such as the shape of a sleeve, that can help to pinpoint when a piece of clothing was made. Highlights include a brown silk “leg o’ mutton” sleeves dress with matching “pelerine” from the1830s, corsets and stays, hoop and bustle and a bathing costume from the 1890s.
Also on display were shoes, boots, hats, and bonnets from the 19th century, and many of the undergarments that provided structure and shape for the changing fashions. The exhibition included objects on loan from the collection of Little Compton Historical Society and Freetown Historical Society as well as from private collections.
Blair Walker, curator of “Head to Toe,” presented a program “The 19th Century Westport Woman: Exploring her Life through her Clothes.”
The exhibition was supported by the Westport Cultural Council through a grant from the Helen E. Ellis Charitable Trust administered by Bank of America.
Other highlights included:
We welcomed Westport third graders and introduced them to some local history themes, as well as giving them a guided tour of our exhibition “Head to Toe.”
We were delighted to continue our links to UMass Dartmouth and to welcome a spring semester intern, Erin Kelly. Erin played an active role in the preparation of our summer exhibition. She also focused on educational activities for our annual visit by Westport third graders, revising our publication “An Elementary Introduction to Westport.”
Like many other non-profits we continue to expand our web presence, branching out into Facebook this year. (Please become a fan!). Combined with our online collection database and our website, this historical society is truly part of the 21st century internet community.
Jenny O’Neill, Director
Programs 2010
Our programs continue to be taped and shown on the local cable station. Our thanks to Westport Public Library for the use of the Manton Community Room for many of our programs and to Steve Connors for videotaping the events.
March 14 Aesops Mirror, a Love Story with Mary Alice Huggins
April 15 Washingtonians and the 19th century temperance movement in Westport with Tony Connors
June 24 The 19th Century Westport Woman: Exploring her Life through her Clothes with Blair Walker
July 15 An evening with Cukie Macomber
August 19 Researching the History of Your House with Marian Pierre-Louis
September 16 Early Landownership in Old Dartmouth with Sally Aldrich
September 25 Hooked Rugs: History, Demonstrations, Appraisals with Jessie Turbayne
Supported by Westport Cultural Council
October Annual meeting: The Two Dr Handys with Martha Guy
Collections
The Historical Society received 63 new accessions, a total of 386 items.
Among the highlights of new accessions are:
Ruth and Hope Atkinson Fireplace crane from the Waite Potter House
2010.003
Viola Gay Collection of bonnets, clothing, shoes belonging to Keziah Gifford 2010.004
Mattapoisett Historical
Society Ship’s passport for the Brig Almy
2010.022
Robert and Naoko Kugler School slates 2010.029
Carlton and Alice Macomber Sign from Laura’s at Westport Point
2010.038
Sam Speers Painting of Hillcrest House
2010.049
Barbara Schulz Patchwork piece sewn by students in 1890s
2010.059
The Society wishes to acknowledge the contributions of time and effort of a special team of volunteers dedicated to the care and management of the collection: Barbara Moss, Suzanne Palmer, Anna Duphiney, Ingrid Davidge, and Blair Walker. To date our catalogued collection includes 1403 objects, 3983 photographs, 2941 archive/documents, 341 books. Collections and research are featured on our website, and the collection database can also be searched online.
The Harbinger
Our quarterly newsletter continues to expand. It is an important outlet for local history research, as well as connecting our members to current events within Westport Historical Society. The purpose of the Harbinger is four-fold:
1. Create an awareness of the WHS throughout our community.
2. Present WHS positions on important historical events in town.
3. Report on WHS events and happenings.
4. Recruit new members.
Jon Alden
Treasurer's Report
Financial statements are available upon request.
November 12, 2010
Town Meeting December 7th - Please show your support!
It is with great excitement that we announce a major new venture for the Westport Historical Society: the preservation and protection – for the benefit of our entire community – of Westport’s most significant historical property, the Cadman-White-Handy House at the corner of Hix Bridge and Drift Roads. The Community Preservation Committee has unanimously recommended that Town Meeting approve funding to enable the Historical Society to purchase this property. We ask you to show your support by attending the Town Meeting on December 7 to ensure that this funding is approved.
The Historical Society has worked hard to project the immediate and long-term impact on our finances, and we are confident we can meet the challenge through new eligibility for historic preservation grants as well as a major fundraising campaign. More information will follow once Town Meeting has approved CPC funding.
This exciting project offers a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity:
•For the Town of Westport to preserve its most significant and valuable historical asset and to facilitate its ongoing use and further enjoyment by the community;
•For the Historical Society – which hopes to move its headquarters to the Handy House – to meet its space needs and thereafter to serve the community in new ways.
But make no mistake: Without Community Preservation Act funding, the Historical Society could not contemplate undertaking this project. Please help us to succeed by voting in favor of CPC funding at the Town Meeting on December 7th.
November 10, 2010
The Handy House in the news
The Cadman-White-Handy House has attracted the attention of the local press for many years. Included here are links to recent articles and some from several years ago!
http://archive.southcoasttoday.com/daily/01-05/01-04-05/a07lo437.htm
http://www.heraldnews.com/highlight/x1005403248/Westports-historic-Handy-House-put-on-the-market
What is unique about the architecture of the Cadman-White-Handy House?
The Cadman-White-Handy House is on both the state register for historic places and the National Register. The State Register listing provides detailed information about the unique architectural features of the house, includes photographs of many of these features, as well as a summary of the significance and history of the property. You can download the document WSP.52 as a PDF.
November 1, 2010
Eleanor Tripp on the Handy House, interviewed in 1976
Eleanor Tripp
(Mrs. Louis H. Tripp)
Interviewed by Mary Giles
October 13, 1976
Eleanor, could you tell about the ‘Handy House’ and you.
Louis and his wife, Florence, were just riding around Westport and they had in mind buying a boat, and when they came down ‘Handy Hill,’ they saw a sign in front of this house on the fence and it said, ‘Get thekey at Mike Coughlin’s.’ He lived across the road. When they saw all the beautiful fireplaces (the house was empty at the time) and woodwork and beautiful construction, they decided to buy the house instead. That was in September 1936. They decided to use it for vacations until they retired. He retired in 1948; she had died before that, and I had married Louis and was living in Washington with him, so in 1948 we came up together on our honeymoon. In 1941 we spent a month here. The first thing we had to do, of course at that time we were at war, and lawnmowers or anything like that weren’t available, so we were using sickles to hack down the grass. The first thing we did was to take wallpaper off and patch cracks to get ready and the windows, hardly any of the windows had much putty left, so that was the big project.
We worked together. It was fun and we fell for the whole setup right off the bat, even though I was a Washingtonian and wasn’t used to the country and had just a tiny garden there. So on vacations we had a garden, although all planting and growing things was ll new to me. Young Harry Kirby was still living down on Drift Road and his father was one of the few people that Louis remembered as a boy and he came down with his horse and wagon and did our plowing, with an old type plow. Our garden was about the same size as it is now, only we had two gardens. We had corn and tomatoes in one area, that took up a lot of room, and we had smaller things in another area. We canned things and took them back to Washington with us. Our vacation was just a month because Louis was so busy in Washington. I would come up by train. In such a short time I couldn’t can and do any of that sort of thing, just come up to see how the house was and everything. But anyway, after Louis bought the house, well, the roof had dormers and there was a great big old porch on the front and he wanted to restore it to the original house.
There was a picture in the ‘Old Dartmouth’ showing the way it should look. Charles T. Gifford did. He was down on the Horseneck Road, but we didn’t know him. But Mike Coughlin’s job was house painting and papering, and he used to be a caretaker here when Abbot Smith owned it.
George Cadman owned the land when the house was built on it, the first part in 1714, the East end. I have seen a sketch of the original house and it was p to the first door. The middle part, we don’t have the exact date, but it was definitely added after 1714, but it would be anywhere from 1720 to 1790. The middle part was built by one of the Whites. Elizabeth (White) was George Cadman’s only daughter, she married a White. George Cadman was very wealthy and he gave her the house and land. And then after they died, it was inherited by Jonathon White (their grandson, son of Elizabeth White’s son, William) and Humphrey White, 1794, and it was Humphrey who sold it go Eli Handy and he built the West wind in 1821.
I have fascinating records of Eli Handy. He was the first Doctor Handy, 1764-1812. He was only 48 years old when he died and I have part of his records. I have some of his records that date back to 1791. And thenJames Harvey was his son and he was also a doctor and he died in 1868 at the age of 74. I have his records also.
I have no records of Eli training, but Eli taught his son. He just rode along with him and I suppose someone taught Eli the same way. I have some interesting letters that students in Pittsfield, Mass. Wrote to Dr. James Harvey Handy asking his advice when they were in medical school. So he was evidently well known for his knowledge for students to write him questions.
In the records dating back to 1791, there were a few confinement cases listed at $2.00. All the rest of the deliveries were $3.00. I wondered if something happened to the baby. And a broken leg was $2.00. He pulled out a tooth for 18 cents and his house calls were usually around 50 cents for even less. But in his books, if he put ‘over the ferry,’ it meant paying a toll on the bridge so the charge was a little extra. He went West as well as East. Some of the names he would mention were in surrounding towns. And then some people would say that they saw the doctor gathering his herbs in the field. And then I have some of his books telling what he used the herbs for. I think the herbs are the same as the things I have now, digitalis and some things like that. A lot of people are interested (in the doctor’s records), but the handwriting is such that you could tell some of the things that he used, but most of them you can’t understand.
It’s interesting, you could tell when Paul Cuffee was going to die. (The doctor took care of him). He went almost every day; that was 1817. I was so interested in his first book because he came from Rochester (Massachusetts) and in his first account book he’d put after the name, ‘Son of so-and-so,’ so that he could remember his patients. In his second book he didn’t do that. Evidently he was well acquainted and knew who belonged to whom. That’s a great help to anyone who’s interested in the histories of the families here to know who he’s referring to.
I with that I could remember a lot of these things, but I can’t not being a native. Different people are referred to and I get lost quite quickly because I don’t know the family.
When he went around making his calls, Dr. Eli Handy went on horseback until he was older, and then he had to have a little carriage. I’ve seen a picture of him sitting in his little ‘two seater.’ James Harvey is the main one that I’ve seen in his little carriage.
He married into the Brownell family and they lived at Oscar Palmer’s and that’s where they’re buried (the Handy’s). The two doctors have the beautiful slate stones. Eli married Mary Brownell and the Brownell house (Oscar Palmer’s) with the cemetery is just West of the Central Village Post Office.
Speaking of the dates, it’s 40 years this year that we have owned this house, and it’s been such fun, such a joy.
One of the main things we had to do when we came up here permanently, was to put heat in. On this end, the West end, was a one pipe furnace and there was a great big register in the hall and the heat would just pour upstairs. If you were going to dress, it was a good idea to stand in the hall where the heat would be. Anyway, the water system was over on the other side (East), so Abbot Smith had a pipe put in our beautiful North room that ran along the ceiling and condensation would form along the pipe and it would be dripping constantly. And so, we wanted the water over here anyway and Louis, being an engineer, was doing all these projects himself. And he was pushing a pipe from the East side to the West side through the area the had no cellar, a crawl space, just a little hole at either end of the house. So he had these plugged so he wouldn’t fill it full of dirt. There were all sorts of animals that lived under the house, and stones, but he worked for days and days, and when he thought he was getting somewhere near this end, I was in the backyard watching to see if I could see the end of the pipe. Finally, it came through and we really celebrated.
And then we put in the kitchen. It had an old dry sink and everything had to be changed. We put in a great big long regular porcelain sink like today, white enamel.
Of course, all the plumbing, painting, papering and patching of cracks had to be done, and the wiring, all of the wiring was very ppor and that had to be done with BX (cable) so we wouldn’t have any mice chewing or anything like that so it wouldn’t be dangerous.
When we lived in Washington, my Louis wrote Louis King, who taught in the Vocational School in New Bedford, and so he wrote Louis (Tripp) that he would help him if he would let him go fishing any time he wanted. (Handy property ran down to the East River). So the two of them worked together doing the job on the house.
Our property goes one-quarter mile North from Hix Bridge Road and one-quarter mile West from the river. Louis bought the river lot in 1938 because he just could visualize a hotdog stand on that corner. Altogether we have about 37 acres. The dump comes to the end of our property, one-quarter mile up to the West. I would change its location if I could do anything I wanted to. It’s not a good location for the dump because there are two brooks on my land. One is really a runoff from the marsh right below the dump and then there’s another big brook over further. Really, the dump shouldn’t be there.
When we were talking about restoring before we moved up, Louis gave Mike Coughlin the job of shingling to have done by Andrew Taber and his boys, the parts that needed shingling around the house and stairs to go down to the cellar. They were the old stone stairs, you just couldn’t get up and down. That’s where the furnace was going to be. Well, one of the things Louis was going to do was replace the front doors. Of course, the porch had been taken off. The original doors had been cut off. So they had a negative of a picture of the original doors and they had a print made and sent it to Louis. He copied them. It had to be done with a magnifying glass to count all the dentils from the original doors. And then he built the doors and put them up in pieces, not the door itself but the frame. Then Mr. Taber and his boys worked on the other doors and put up what are copies of the original doors and they’re just beautiful.
I think the prettiest cupboard is in the South middle room. It has such beautiful dentils around it too. Henry Worth has written these articles and one of the articles will give us one date and a person and another article will give us another date and will say the Handy’s built it. I really don’t know. I imagine it might have been Humphrey White that built this portion.
Cooking in the fireplace is lots of fun too. I have the things we have today. I have a waffle iron and you just put it down in the coals. I have a trammel with ratchets, which raises and lowers the pans and I make Johnny Cakes in an old Johnny Cake pan. For stewing, there’s a big pot and little spider pots for over small coals, but I’m sorry we don’t have a reflector oven, but I have a modern one from L.L. Bean. And so we can bake biscuits and things like that too. I think the fireplace is about seven feet long and four feet high. I have to duck my head. I’ve painted and spattered the floors. Mike, the gentleman across the road, who used to paint for us, taught me how to spatter. The big room has a real deep green floor. Some are other colors.
Louis wasn’t too well for a number of years before he died in 1963. In his youth Louis lived at the Head and his father was a Sea Captain.
When we first came here, I remember that Florence Coughlin told me that they had a Woman’s Club and she thought that I would be interested in joining. She thought that would be a good way for me to get to know Westporters and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Mary David was the president; Grade Babbitt was the vice president and she said that she wouldn’t become president unless I would be her vice president. Really, it was so worthwhile, because there wasn’t anything else in those days. People came to the Woman’s Club because that was ‘the thing.’ We met at the Community House. The Quakers, who own it, built it to be used for community projects. There were no scholarship funds at that time.
I remember one time when Grace Babbitt was sitting waiting for her husband, Frank, who was in some place doing business, and she had the idea that we needed a woman’s club in Westport, so we started a lot of ‘firsts.’ That was our big money making project. We stitched aprons and did all sorts of things. Then it wasn’t long after I was in there (Woman’s Club) when Mrs. Grace DeAndrade, town nurse, came and asked if our club wouldn’t form a ‘Well Child Clinic.’ We worked on that for years and years. Grace Babbitt, Money Lepreau, Lucia Paull and I were the first.
Yes, I worry about the growth rate of Westport. It’s a shame if people can’t buy and build, yet if you have so many houses crowded in, it means more schools. And, so often I feel glad that I’m as old as I am; I can’t face the changes. I’ve seen them coming since 1941. In some of my old notes that I first made, I kept talking about an occasional automobile would go up Handy Hill and things like that. We went to clambakes and auctions looking for antiques. Of course, we brought what we had from Washington and we had to find a lot of things for this house.
I remember before they widened Hix Bridge Road, I used to take my wheelbarrow and walk up Handy Hill, picking up tin cans and rubbish to try and discourage people from dropping more. And I could go all the way up and all the way down and there wouldn’t have been one car that would have seen me. The road just wasn’t used; they used Main Road, not much on Drift Road either, but more than on Handy Hill, I think. Buy anyway, there were wild grapes all over my path and I’d go up with my wheelbarrow and – Concords and some pink. Before we moved up here, we’d take probably a whole bushel basked back. So the changes do bother me, I don’t want it go grow. I’m real selfish, I’m afraid. As a friend of mine has said, ‘You shouldn’t feel guilty having your land the way it is, because keeping your trees, etc. is what is supporting these people who are building.’
*****
William Almy oral history interview 1975
William Almy, Jr.
Interviewed by Mary Giles
October 25, 1975
William Almy – “According to the early records of the Almy family here in Westport, William Almy, the sone of Captain Christopher Almy and Elizabeth Cornell, was born October 27, 1665 and died on July 6, 1747. Job, the son of William Almy and Ezra Cook Almy, was born April 28, 1696 and died in 1771. Christopher Almy, son of Job Almy and Lydia Tillinghast Almy, was born May 29, 1738. Thomas Almy, son of Elizabeth and William Sanford Almy, was born April 22, 1775 and died November 23, 1868. William Almy, son of Thomas Almy and Sally Gifford Almy, was born November 10, 1798 and died December 25, 1881. William F. Almy—that’s my grandfather—son of William Almy and Elizabeth Brayton Almy, was born on January 17, 1841 and died June 14, 1898. William Almy, my father, son of William F. Almy and alice Gray Almy, was born April 9, 1874, and died June 24, 1891. Then comes myself, William Almy, Jr., son of William Almy and Elsie Peirce Almy, born November 30, 1900. My son, William Almy III, was born November 6, 1928, and his son, William Gernsey Clive Almy, was born August 7, 1954.”
Interviewer—I would like to find out a little bit about some of these people who have succeeded each other in such a long procession.
The first William Almy came from England to Sandwich. He didn’t come directly from Sandwich to Westport. He went from Sandwich to Portsmouth, Rhode Island, where he lived until 1701. There seems to be a little confusion about when they moved to the Quansett Farm here. Some records say 1701 and some records say 1710. At any rate, from that time on, the Almys have always lived in this house, which we are now in on Quansett Farm, which was built by Job Almy, who married Lydia Tillinghast. He built the house in 1743 and nobody but an Almy has ever lived in this house since. This house was part of an 800-acre property between Horseneck and Barney’s Joy—called by the Indians ‘Mattaquonsett,’ ‘place where you fish at night with spears.’
I have to look up this acquiring. Yes, William Almy—and that is the William Almy, son of Christopher Almy, acquired the right to the 800-acre division from Abraham Tucker of Dartmouth, either in 1701 or 1710. That is between Horseneck Beach and what is known as Allen’s Beach, believed to be Barney’s Joy. That also included Gooseberry Neck.
Christopher is the father of the William Almy who acquired this farm. In this book written by Mr. Henry Howland Crapo, published in New Bedford in 1912, which is called ‘Certain Come Overs,’ Christopher Almy was about ten years old when he moved and settled in Portsmouth (1775) after they lived in Sandwich. Then he became quite a prominent man in Rhode Island. He was sent over by the General Assembly of the United Colonies. They wanted him to be the Governor of Rhode Island, but he refused to accept that and he consented to act as an assistant to the governor and as such, according to Mr. Crapo, he virtually exercised the powers of governor. In 1692 he was sent by the General Assembly to England to lodge a complaint to their Majesties on behalf of Rhode Island against the encroachment of Massachusetts. At the time, the English Government was engaged in a war and consequently paid little head to Almy. He was somewhat discouraged and memorialized Queen Mary, saying that he had come 4,000 miles to lay the grievances of his neighbors before her and his persistence was rewarded when his case was presented fully and he received a decision in favor of Rhode Island on every point at issue.
In the Bristol County records, this effort is described as the Dartmouth Colony pleading a cause against the Plymouth Colony so that the Almys and all of the other Quakers, who were here, wouldn’t have to hire a Congregational minister.
Well, I question that because—remember, he was representing Rhode Island and being sent by the General Assembly of the United Colonies, he was representing Rhode Island—he was trying to help Rhode Island. He returned to Rhode Island, it says in Mr. Crapo’s book, in 1696—to Portsmouth. He was granted the sum of 135 pounds by the Assembly of Rhode Island for his expenses. If this was his sole remuneration, says Mr. Crapo, it was certainly not excessive for a four-year sojourn in a foreign country as minister plenipotentiary and ambassador extraordinary.
William came here and he built the house. He acquired it (the land) from Abraham Tucker. Crapo goes on to say that William Almy ‘devised’ his farm—meaning he left his farm—to his son, Job Almy, who was probably living here at the time in one of the three mansion houses which he built. It isn’t the house we’re sitting in now which was built in 1743, which is known as the homestead. It was one of the three ‘mansion houses,’ according to Mr. Crapo, which I think was built by Job. That was built before this house and that was on the northern end of the property here at Quansett, sometime during the 17th century and it was occupied by the head farmer and my great, great grandfather thought that the farmer was too far away from the source of things, being way up at the north end, and he decided to move the homestead down nearer the barns and farm buildings and they did move it down sometime about the middle of the 1800s. For years you could see where they built the walls up again after they tore them down when they moved the house. I’m told that the farmer’s family and children lived in that house all the time they moved it and that they had a clock on the shelf in the dining room which never stopped going all the time it was being moved. It was probably moved very little distance each day and, of course, the rollers were pulled by oxen going very, very slowly. I showed you the clock the other day. We won’t run it much now, but I think you could. The oxen could move it this way. They’d get a stone out in front, a great big boulder, and they’d take a rope and take a turn around that and then the revolving wheel. The oxen would pass under that. They didn’t pull it directly. That’s the way they moved things in those days.
Do you remember hearing that one of your ancestors was said to have found an Indian in his well?
I don’t remember that. No.
You told me about a letter from John Hames Audubon that one of the Almys received from him, thanking him for his hospitality.
Yes, do you want to see it? I don’t know much about it except that I’ve always heard that Mr. John James Audubon as a great friend of my grandfather and that he visited here many times because he was so interested in the shore birds and the birds that were native to this part of the world. I have here a framed bottom of a letter which says, ‘I pray you to accept my thanks for your civilty, and I beg to subscribe myself to you. Ever Affectionately, John J. Audubon.’ It contains his seal with the bird on it. I don’t think there’s any doubt about it that some of the plates of shore birds he made were made here. I imagine he would probably have some particular species on his mind and I don’t know what it was, but all sorts of birds lived here in those days. Even when I was young, before the law was so you couldn’t shoot shore birds, and I shot my first winter yellowleg when I was seven years old. There used to be quite a thing of shooting here for years.
I can tell you quite a few things about Gooseberry Neck. It was part of the original grant that William Almy obtained when he got all the land from the Westport River to Allen’s Beach, along with Barney’s Jot. I used to, when I was a very young boy, drive with my mother in a meadowbrush cart. There was a bar, which went from East Beach to Gooseberry Neck and at very low tide it would be exposed. There were three ponds on Gooseberry Neck, and in them grew the most beautiful flowers known as Marsh Mallows, and my mother was crazy about them. She would pick the tide, and, usually late in August when they were in bloom, she would drive across. We children had to watch it carefully, because if the tide came up too much, you couldn’t get home. Anyway, in the old days, my great grandfather used Gooseberry to turn sheep out on and the sheep would be turned there all summer and the tides, of course, would keep them from coming back. They put them out in June just after they had been sheared, with their lambs, and there they stayed. Well, the story goes that he did this one June and there came up a terrific northeaster and that lasted three or four days, and it was cold as it could possibly be, and a lot of those sheep, just sheared, and their lambs died in this storm. And that made my ancestor very, very mad and he vowed he was never going to put another animal on Gooseberry Neck. In fact, he was going to sell Gooseberry Neck as soon as he possibly could. And he did, very shortly—for the price of $75.00. Inasmuch as the government is said to have paid three million for it, including the defenses, which were put on it during the last World War, it wasn’t a very good deal.
The brig Almy sailed out of Westport, I believe. None of my direct ancestors followed the sea. The uncles—and there were captains and there were whalemen and there were all kinds of people who did, but—my direct ancestors were all farmers. But then William Almy, my great grandfather, decided that he was going to be a merchant. He walked with his shoes in his hand, as a matter of economy, to Russells Mills—about six and a half miles away—and he obtained a job in Mr. Barker’s store, and he—going again to History of Bristol County—was thirteen years of age and a few years later he removed to an accounting room of John Avery Parker in New Bedford and then he went to Boston and was in the employ of the well-known textile people, N.A. Lawrence. And, after that he formed a partnership with another fellow and he started in business for himself jobbing white goods. He pursued that for 50 years. I really don’t know whether the textile business started in Boston and moved down here or the opposite.
On the other side of my family, my mother’s side, Mr. Andrew G. Peirce, my grandfather, started the Wamsutta Mills and was in the textile business in New Bedford all of his life. I think the textile business started in this area before New Bedford.
Anyway, in the History of Bristol County it says about William Almy, my great grandfather, ‘he was cool, clear-headed and sagacious and no man stood higher in the confidence of his fellows and he achieved a handsome fortune for his time. He had a reputation for spotless integrity and unblemished honor.’
I have here his will all written in longhand, which I’m not going to read to you by any means because it would take a long while. I’ll show it to you for what it’s worth. His signature is here and every single thing that he owned is mentioned, everything including pieces of harness for his horses and everything else—all written out. He unfortunately went blind. I think I can read it better than I can remember it. Around 1830’s a gradual failure of his sight obliged him to give up a measure of his business. He went to Europe to seek a cure, but he received no benefit from the advice of the most eminent foreign oculists. In 1858 he became totally blind.
My grandfather, William F. Almy, died a young man before I was born. He lived here in summers, but you see, after William Almy, my great grandfather, whome we’ve just been talking about, became in business in Boston, he lived in Boston all the time and only kept this house as a summer house. They did that until I was almost 21 years old. Then they moved down with the horses. I can remember this even now. They’d drive all the horses and all the carriages and everything over the road, and of course the family would go ahead and this procession would start out from Brookline, Massachusetts, where we lived, to come all the way down here. I think it took them three days and as I say, they moved down every summer. As I understand it, the house was completely closed when they went back. The farmer who was headman and lived just up where my brother lives now, which was the old homestead house, was near enough. Life was different then. You didn’t need everything locked up so people wouldn’t steel.
I think it might be well to talk about Thomas Almy, if it wouldn’t bore you. He was the father of William Almy who married Sally Gifford, who went to England. He was born in 1775. Here it says that Mr. Almy had much to do with town affairs and the state militia. He took much pride in a good horse and was always seen on horseback, a recreation he continued until within a short time of his death.
There must be something in heredity because I have been on a horse almost every day of my life since I was five years old, and, of course, every day now that I possibly can and I hope to be able to do as well as my ancester did.* It shows you that it must be hereditary, this love of horses. My grandfather loved them and my father loved them and my sisters and my daughter, and we’ve always had horses and I’ve recently given a stable to Susan, my daughter, and she has always been devoted to them (horses) all of her life and I think she has as many as thirty horses there.
Some of the horses here that I’ve bred have done pretty well nationally. You see that painting over there? That’s a horse called ‘Hard Banking’ and he won the National Hunt Cup in 1941 and that was a very famous race. They jumped the steeplechase, of course. I had a horse called ‘Red Bud’ that won the Maryland Hund Cup and that is the greatest steeplechase in this country—was and still is. It’s one of the very few from Massachusetts that ever has won the race. We’ve enjoyed breeding horses in a very small way here. Mr. Tuckerman (Bayard), my closest friend and neighbor who recently passed away, just about a mile up the road here, has bred some horses here in Westport too—good ones they are, and he’s won some races and Little Sedgewick Farm, his place, has become quite a byword for horses. I told you ‘never mind Kentucky and Virginia and all that. If you take care of them, you can breed them just as well here as anywhere.’ My wife, Letitia, bred a horse that has won several races all the way from here to California. Her horse’s name is ‘Hasenagh.’ That’s the Indian pronunciation for ‘Horseneck’ and we have high hopes for him. My daughter has a yearling she took to the big show where they showed all the yearlings bred in New England and that colt finished fourth of about thirty colts. Hope springs eternal in the heart of a horseman.
I believe that ‘Hasenegh’ (Horseneck) refers to the big stone house or big stone meeting place. There must have been one there to give it that name. I read that the Indians all congregated at Horseneck Beach and had all kinds of horse races and clam bakes and had a big time. I don’t know whether it’s true or not, that this was a summer residence for the Indians; that they didn’t live here in the winter. Here it’s wonderful in the winter. It’s even warm here when there’s snow up in Boston. That’s what enables us to hunt all winter with our hounds. Much later than anywhere else, in Westport the roses are all blooming, the zinnias are blooming, all the flowers, and I picked—I don’t know how many—tomatoes this morning right out of the garden (October 25). We haven’t had any frost at all and here it is almost the first of November.
I don’t know much about Indian lore, but I do know that we have a boathouse right down on the beach and in that boathouse are two very old boats that must have gone back into the early 1800’s I think. They were very sturdy. Apparently, they used to go sword fishing right off here; they had a lot of equipment in them. The harpoons were there in the boathouse. They were lapstrak boats. That’s one board over another like a clapboard house. Back in the old days, they always used to build them that way and then they would fasten them with copper nails so they wouldn’t rust in the water. That’s supposed to be the very sturdiest way, so we have two great big boats. When I was young, I had to recondition one of them and I used to go offshore out here in it, and it sailed beautifully. As some time they probably used to go way out sword fishing in these boats—in those two boats down there.
Over on the Cummings place was what some people considered to be the only house left here after King Philip’s War. That was known as the Richard Almy farm and that was on the west of the road and according to the division of the Job Almy’s sons—he had four sons—two took the west side and it afterwards belonged to this fellow, Ben Cummings, as I told you, and that was a gambrel roofed kind of ell in the back of that house and it was the third of the mansions Mr. Crapo refers to that Job Almy built and on the back of this ell there’s there’s the ell that was said to be the only house left standing after King Philip’s War. Of course, the house burned down about 30 years ago. That’s that chimney standing alone you see when you drive up the road. It was different from any of the others. That’s part of the house. There are so many things you think of.
I think in this house, this was the original kitchen. There’s the oven to cook the bread in and everything. Course, we call it the ‘mudroom.’ I come in in my boots and the dogs come in and everybody comes in and it doesn’t matter how much mud and stuff you bring in. That’s a custom from Virginia. They always had a mudroom. You sat in your boots or anything you had on and the dogs came in and it was very comfortable, but all the kitchen and the servants and everything is on the other side. That must have been built afterwards. I presume that the original house wasn’t as large as the present one, though you can’t see now, except for the ell, where things were added. You realize this house is four stories high. This is one level and the second story is all bedrooms and all, and the third story is all bedrooms and the fourth story is attic. It’s a big house. It doesn’t have as many bedrooms as you think—nine now, more originally. It doesn’t have much closet space, yet there’s a closet in every room. They must have put them in afterwards, into the rooms. The master bedroom is a great big room. You saw the dining room and it’s (the master bedroom) right over it and it has two very god sized dressing rooms with it. I’ve always thought it is a lovely place to live. I know that I went into the Royal Flying Corps (I was too young to go into the American Army) which afterwards became the Royal Air Force and as soon as I got out of that English Army, I wanted to go back here and I’ve been here every since.
I go to Florida on business and you’ve got to be businesslike. The taxes are getting terrible, you know. It’s more and more difficult to keep a place like this. I don’t think we do very well. But I love it and I’m going to try.
I question how grand the social life was right here in Dartmouth. I think New Bedford was very gay and had all kinds of things. At the height of the whaling industry, New Bedford was one of the richest cities per capita in the United States. They had wonderful things there and they had wonderful parties. They had a great tradition in New Bedford. Westport and Dartmouth—I question.
You have objects here from the 17th and early 18th centuries, which are not poor man’s fare.
I’ll tell you it’s a wonder to me there’s anything left. There were five of us children and there are four of us still living, and we all had large families and they came and helped themselves to whatever they wanted and it’s a wonder there’s anything left at all. I’ve put a limit when I finally took over myself, but for years I didn’t have any more right than anyone else. We never bought anything. These have all been left over from the past. Some of the family thinks that the things that are in the house at Quansett should stay here. They do think that.
I wish we had more time, Mrs. Giles, I could probably go on forever, and I’ll be glad to make a note for you of things that may come to me.
William Almy, Jr. died four years later. He died suddenly and he was on horseback up to the time of his death.
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