Discovering the weird and whimsical sites of New England
Author: Theophanes Avery
Theophanes Avery is a whimsical travel blogger that is hopelessly in love with New England and all it's weird places, people, and things. Besides running way too many blogs they are the author of three books, at least one of them good, and they also enjoy raising aquarium fish in Walsted tanks, sculpting, Sharpie doodling, knitting, tattooing leather, homesteading, and whatever other hobby tickles their raging ADD. Less fortunately they are a hopelessly impoverished spoonie yelling to the world, "WE NEED MORE COMMUNITY!" but alas no one's listening. Make sure to find them on the FaceBook. They love new oddball friends. Fly the freak flag high my darlings!
I admit I haven’t been doing as much travelling lately. Somewhere between trying (and failing) to avoid covid and being completely burned out this blog has suffered a bit of abandonment but that’s not to say I didn’t want to be out exploring. Quite frankly I need to be for my mental health!
And that’s how we ended up at the Indian Hill Cemetery in Middletown Connecticut. We had both realized that neither one of us had made it to a garden cemetery in the great state of Connecticut yet and this one popped up on Google’s suggestions. So we packed up the cat who was equally stir crazy and went on a little day trip!
Indian Hill Cemetery was said to have over 6,000 monuments with a few famous ones mixed in including two journalists – Joseph Wright Alsop (a liberal political writer who penned Matter of Fact which showed up in over 200 newspapers and whose life inspired several novels and a Broadway play) and Stewart Alsop (who co-wrote Matter of Fact with his brother and also wrote for The New York Herald Tribune and The Saturday Evening Post as well as penning three political books.) As well as one scientist – Wilbur Olin Atwater – who was an agricultural chemist who was in charge of the Department of Agriculture’s experiment stations from 1873-1907, a world known liberal economist John Kenneth Galbraith who advised presidents from Franklin D Roosevelt all the way through to Clinton! As well as a TON of congressmen and governors and a handful of Civil War veterans including Major General Joseph King Fenno Mansfield who fought and died in Antietam, and Civil War Medal of Honor recipients William Stone Hubbell and John Gideon Palmer.
It was a beautiful day for being in the middle of winter and since it was unseasonably warm there wasn’t a speck of snow around just a bunch of creepy trees which I think added to the ambiance. The cat seemed to enjoy it too with lots of open space and a vulture circling above she was cruising through that cemetery like she owned the place. So much so I wandered off on my own figuring they’d catch up.
Now Indian Hill isn’t as impressive as the other garden cemeteries I’ve been to but I might just be jaded at this point. It did have a bunch of increasingly tall monoliths and the tallest Celtic cross I’d ever seen. Plus it was situated in a hilly area behind the college that overlooked a good part of the city. I had fun taking pictures of the moon which was also out that day. It was during this time the cat got spooked and wanted nothing more to do with exploring so we were forced back into the car. Normally we would have found something else in the area to do seeing as we drove an hour and a half to get there but the cat was not settling down and growled and hissed the whole way home. What had got her knicker’s in a twist? We have no idea. But that ended our day…
I wouldn’t really go out of my way to go to this cemetery again but if you happen to be in the area or someone who is interested in the famous monuments by all means check it out! It’s not a bad cemetery it was just not as expansive or as elaborate as I’d hoped. It contained only one cherub, no angels or weeping women, and no slate either.
This antique store was a little different than our usual fair. It was super easy to find in a little plaza right off the highway. It was of moderate size and seemed to have more a thrift store feel to it. Like it wanted to be an antique store, and it did have some old stuff, but at least 40% of that was just outdated somewhat recent technology and entertainment. You know, the place to get your CDs and VHSs.
And initially it was kind of sweet and grandmotherly but then we started coming across the most racist shit we’ve found to date. First, I found an old Raggedy Anne and Andy children’s book with a mamie doll blatantly taking up the whole cover. Obviously, I had to paw over that and make my own judgements. The book was $15 and falling apart with every breath but I am glad I flipped through it because in the middle there was an absolutely terrifying illustration that sure looked like a lot like that same mamie doll drowning a clown in the sink. Now I’m not saying that’s what’s actually going on but damn, that’s what it looks like to me! I admit I almost bought it just so I could frame that one page and hang it up as a conversation starter. The only thing that stopped me was the fact it was super racist in addition to being morbidly hilarious.
But that was nothing. At some point we rounded a corner and in a glass display case was the most racist thing I have ever seen. Keep in mind in previous adventures we have seen hundreds of mamie dolls, dozens of super racist ad posters, Chinamen saltshakers, troubling depictions of American Indians, gypsy fortune tellers, but this… this took the cake. It was anti-Japanese. A magazine from World War II with a pinch-eyed and jaundiced chimpanzee wearing a swastika on the cover. Even worse it was placed rather carelessly next to a symbol clashing monkey. We both gasped. And then took photos to prove we’d actually seen such a thing.
Hilariously we accidentally ended up back at this store two or three weeks later and we had to go check in on that insane magazine. SOMEONE BOUGHT IT. I kid you not, it was gone!! The dilapidated mamie doll book was still there though — case you still need a good dose of racism.
The Taunton Antique Center was another one of those crazy surprising stores that just kept going and going and going. Initially we thought it was just a modestly sized furniture based antique store off a main street because when you enter that’s all you see and it looks like that’s all there is. But once you start moving further in you realize the beautiful furniture is just one room and there’s a back room full of little things behind glass and then another room off to the side that leads into an absolute labyrinth. There were hallways and nooks, a whole section dedicated to thrift store type things and a basement that just didn’t quit. Really something for everyone!!
It was like the character of the store itself kept warping and moving as we travelled deeper into it. This place was very charismatic and absolutely INFESTED with terrifying antique horses of all shapes, sizes, and fur lengths! Some were small, some were chubby, some were big enough for a small child to ride, some had red eyes, some had soulless black holes were the eyes were supposed to go. All of them looked not quite right. And beside many there were more creepy Victorian paintings and prints – always a joy to see.
There was also a lot of chickens which made me doubly happy and even some paintings that looked medieval or at least older than the US. It was A LOT to take in. This was another one of those antique stores that could easily take up a whole afternoon and not need anything else.
So, I may have been a little burned out towards the end of 2022 and I may have decided to take the month of December off as far as writing blog entries. This however does not mean I didn’t go to a bunch of antique stores and now I am left with figuring out which I went to, what was in them, and which photos go where… In case you find yourself in a similar dilemma DON’T DO THIS. And if you do make sure to at least take a photo of each’s store’s sign so you can remember. Otherwise… well… good luck.
I do however remember the New Bedford Antiques Cove. New Bedford is the former whaling capitol of the US so this huge antique store in a sprawling old mill building is chock FULL of scrimshaw. None of which I took photos of! I really don’t know why. In addition to scrimshaw there was also plenty of whale art and harpoons aplenty! In addition to this they also had a vast array of completely unrelated and probably haunted dolls and creepy paintings. Just a big old cache. This was also the first time we had come across an old wax cylinder recorder. Very neat! Probably should have been in a museum.
All and all this was another all-day adventure because of the enormity of the place. Definitely worth a little road trip to see such an assortment of different venders. Something for everyone! And if you’re into the whole whaling aspect there is a Whaling Museum in New Bedford as well.
St Auburn Cemetery is where it all began – garden cemeteries, that is. It’s the first in the US and with over 170 acres and with 93,000 people buried here there’s A LOT to check out!
Garden cemeteries came into existence before the country had any official parks and they were used as green spaces for living people to enjoy during the day. And St Auburn is gorgeous. It’s immaculately landscaped with all sorts of exotic trees and shrubbery, a few little ponds, and many hills and crevices. It makes for a unique and serene experience especially if you go at the right time of the year like we did when all the trees were in full Autumn colors.
Funny enough, I’d never actually heard about St Auburns. It was suggested by my traveling companion who also had no idea what it was. As such I didn’t expect much but WOW. This place sure is something! We were barely out of the car when we stumbled upon a huge sphinx, like the one in Egypt! Just sitting there with its big lion paws and judgmental face staring down at us. What the…? Now that’s a strange sight in New England! Around it were other Egyptian inspired monuments and that… was just the beginning of our discoveries.
Near the sphinx was a big church looking building… Bigalow Chapel and a number of the stones surrounding it seemed to mimic its ornate style. But then directly across from that family plot there was a stack of granite boulders making another weird memorial. And sitting nearby was a full bronze statue of… someone. Someone who I am sure felt he was important enough for a bronze statue although none of the crew today recognized his name or possible accomplishments… but nice statue!
I was hopeful on this day to find the oldest part of the cemetery where all the old slate was… but we only found modern slate, some which were clearly recently placed and had yet to have anyone buried under them. Is slate coming back into fashion?? You have no idea how close I am to buying a slab of slate directly off a local quarry and having fun carving my own. It’d be… something. That’s for sure.
ANYWAY – aside from such morbid thoughts we continued to be surprised by the weird elements of this cemetery including a series of crypt-like mausoleums buried directly into the hills. And some more traditional mausoleums. One which was chained from the outside, a second which had a broken door that looked like it broke from the inside, and a third that apparently gave a good knock. And I mean if I were buried above ground in a tiny marble house, I’d be desperate for escape too. Or maybe they were just offended by comments like, “Watch out! Unnecessarily hot Jesus to your left!” But I mean you can’t beat doing a cemetery tour with people willing to make gentle fun of hot Jesus. This one had missing fingers which made him weirdly even hotter. I said what I said.
We did find other notable people buried here… There was a memorial to Robert Gould Shaw the first colonel to lead the 54th Massachusetts Infantry – otherwise known as the North’s first black regiment during the Civil War. Shaw was white and when he died during the second battle at Fort Wagner the Southerners threw him into a mass burial with all the men that he led. He’d eventually be dug up and reburied in Beaufort National Cemetery in South Carolina which begs the question why is his memorial here in Cambridge MA? Maybe because he’s buried under an “unknown” marker in SC or maybe because the locals here felt he needed something proper. Funny enough I find memorials without bodies fairly frequently on my travels and one of the biggest reasons is there is no body or it’s a famous person whose hometown also wants to show some respect even if they’re buried elsewhere. And then we come across stones that have whole stories on them… like this one:
“Charles Turner Torrey was arrested for aiding slaves to regain their Liberty.
For this humane act he was indicted as a criminal convicted by the Baltimore City Court and sentenced to the penitentiary for six years.
While on his death bed he was refused a pardon by the Govenor of Maryland and died of consumption after two years confinement a victim of his sufferings.”
And there’s a story I didn’t know that sort of gives me a little hope in humanity so that’s good…. it’s funny how life affirming a trip to a cemetery can be. Especially when there’s so many stones in the shape of beloved dogs for some reason.
We spent an entire afternoon sorting through the stones and enjoying the pretty trees. We even stumbled into several sections with stones that were engraved in foreign languages – some even Asian. 11,000 steps later we went back to the car completely exhausted and not having seen the whole place! How much did we miss? I don’t know but I have a feeling we will be back.
I have been spending time in Newport for a few years now and although it’s known for its mansions, I had never been to any of them. So I pitched the idea that maybe we should at least look into that… and as luck would have it this happened to be just the right time of year to make a boring old mansion exciting. Why? Because it’s spooky season! And some of these mansions are supposed to be haunted. Why not go on a nighttime tour?? To one of them that the locals seemed to think was actually haunted.
That’s how we ended up at Belcourt taking a tour hosted by a documentarian who lives there on the weekend. We did learn a little bit about its history but if I am to be very frank my eyes were pretty glassed over. I just… can’t seem to muster any interest whatsoever in the dramatic lives of the long dead super wealthy. SORRY. All I got out of this is it was built at the end of the 1800’s, used to have an attached stable, and was basically used as a building for extravagant parties after a woman won it in her divorce.
And it was indeed… lavishly decorated which is what gave me the first heeby jeeby of the evening as we drove through the big iron gates and were surrounded on both sides by two huge iron horses. Being nighttime this creeped me the hell out. Small confession: I find the uber wealthy terrifying. Coming from poverty I know all too well that if you cross a super wealthy person the wrong way you can easily be disappeared. A lesson I learned while accidentally wandering into some swank rich person’s event at the Grand Canyon once. The look one of those rich assholes gave me was reminiscent of the look a wolf gives a limping lamb. Had I not been escorted by another man at the time I am not so sure I would have not been disappeared myself. Think about it – these people have so much money they can pay off anyone – witnesses, body collectors, whatever they need. This is why we’ve never had a billionaire serial killer arrested in the US. Don’t think it’s because they don’t exist. And iron gates? Holy crap does that bring this whole idea home – that no one really knows what goes on beyond them.
Luckily there were no murderous rich bastards around on this particular evening. In fact the crowd here seemed a nice mix of locals and tourists of various classes. I was excited to see what was here, although I didn’t’ really expect it to be mostly in the dark! Only the bare minimum of lights were on – but this was often because there just wasn’t any – having relied mostly on sunshine to light it up during the day. We were some of the first to show up – me without my camera, again. I don’t know where my brain has been this week, on vacation I suppose. Luckily, I still had my cellphone.
I noticed a copper chopper (say that five times fast!) sitting astutely under a chandelier in the darkened ball room. What… is that? I had to look it up later. It’s The Liberty Bike, built by the American Chopper guys with pieces from the Statue of Liberty taken during restoration. It must have been visiting? No one said anything about it but it did have its own trailer outside.
As we waited we noticed the receiving room was filled with giant mirrors. Confession number two: I don’t feel any warmer or fuzzier about mirrors than I do about rich people. AND WHY ARE THEY SO BIG?! Of course we were told one of them was haunted with orbs so we all lined up to take selfies in it as one does with a giant haunted mirror…
After this the actual tour started. Our host was energetic and clearly passionate about this place. He led us into a library that was supposed to have a poltergeist or an imp of some sort as books from it would randomly walk off and be found in other strange parts of the property – like the front lawn. Or perhaps if you were really unlucky something would occasionally pitch books at guests’ heads. I decided that if I should die and get stuck as a ghost it would be an amusing job to haunt a library and do much the same.
From here we were taken out to meet the strange throne-like chair that was supposed to be some sort of conduit to the spiritual world. We each sat in it to see if we could feel anything. I felt something – but it wasn’t ghosts – it was just a feeling of “I COULD BE KING!” You know, being as it looked like a throne… Another woman claimed it was colder in the chair and she could feel a breeze, but I was standing next to the chair and felt the same chilly draft sooo…. I’m not really convinced. This may have also been the same woman claiming to smell ghostly cigarette smoke which turned out to be my companion… who smokes.
Obviously, we all had to go through that door to go to the next room which was absolutely empty as far as people were concerned. This room didn’t need a ghost to be creepy because the walls and ceiling were adorned with faces. Whhhhhhhhy, just whhhhhy.
We’d eventually find our way to a bedroom with a big old ornately carved wooden bed that screamed “fuck off and get out of my room” in grumpy old white man. I was slightly confused no one else seemed to feel this but then again – that is my life, isn’t it? Just stumbling into random things and noticing things others don’t.
The bedroom was attached to a bathroom which we all had to wander through because it had a primitive shower that looked like a torture cage lit up by red lights to make a bathtub of doom. Very catchy.
After this we entered what I can only describe as a misplaced medieval European Cathedral complete with sweeping arches and stained glass from the 15th century. And a church organ. And some suits of armor… annnnd a weapon’s case which held an ax that would “sometimes dance around the room on its own.” It must have been filled with stage fright on this particular night.
Then we got to go upstairs and look down into this weird cathedral room from the big openings in the wall which…. did not have anything preventing people from just falling right out of them into the room below. No guards, no glass, just a big gaping tilted foot-level hole big enough for a body to trip through. But perhaps that’s what the little squatting monk statues were doing – making sure no one did. One of them looked like Bill Murray. I pondered about that for a moment. Comedy gargoyle? You never know.
And that was the tour. Filled with reportedly 14 or so ghosts with intensely vague backstories annnnnd some magic rocks on the outside of the building. Mmmmkay. It was a really fun little night adventure and I would recommend it to most people who love spooky season as much as me but be forewarned THERE ARE MIRRORS AND CHERUB FACES EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE.
It’s come to my attention that if I don’t want to turn into a completely miserable person I need to get out into nature at least once a week when possible. So that’s what we did – this time we ended up at the Blue Hills Reservation for a day of hiking.
The weather was perfect – not too hot, not too cold, and with the trees changing into their vibrant Autumn colors it was just pure bliss to be out here. And we had also decided to bring Stormy the cat along in her little soft cat carrier in the hopes of trying out her harness for the first time.
We parked in the first parking lot we came across and tried to find a trail at random but there were a lot and many crisscrossed and none of them seemed like they were marked with titles… All we knew was that we were trying to reach the summit where there was the ruins of an old observation tower and a weather station. Upward we went!
If we are to believe the signs we only climbed about half a mile from the parking lot before we found what we came for – a big stone structure just quietly sitting in the woods surrounded by picnic tables and overlooked by a tower to one side. I chucked at the old decaying fireplace which had “No fires” written on it. This seemed to be a lovely place to play with the lighting and do a bit of whimsical and nature photography. There were other people about, some even had dogs, but everyone was pleasant and respectful. And that was all good because up until this point I had been struggling with a migraine and such intense dizziness and nausea that I had to take several breaks on my way up. I was asked why I had even bothered to go out on this day but it wasn’t that bad earlier on in the morning when we had left! Such is the nature of my life.
When we got to the top we stopped and let Stormy out of her carrier to go explore a bit with wide eyes. She was very unsure of the place but seemed to settle in a little bit until other hikers would walk by and she’d fixate on them like they were monsters come to eat her. It’s weird as we had both thought she’d been plenty exposed to people up until this point. She didn’t even seem to care about the dogs!
I left her and her human to climb to the top of the observation tower a story above. It was primitive but beautiful and the view on this Autumn day was as breath taking as you’d expect. So many vibrant trees spread over the landscape and off in the distance you could see the city of Boston. I have found Boston to be a strange place – still surrounded by a lot of woods. Eventually my companion made it up here too with the cat and we all enjoyed this great view.
The weather station was a quarter of a mile up another trail, basically just around the corner but it was being renovated and not open to visitors until 2023. Fair enough. On our way down we took the Abigail Adams Trail and ended up in a totally different parking lot, having to walk a little ways past the visitor center to a different parking lot where we found the car still minding it’s own.
This excursion was brief but very enjoyable. I would call the trail short but moderate difficulty as it was mostly a steady incline with lots of rocks with which we had to scrabble across. Not appropriate for anyone who needs a flat or very easy trail, and not enough of a challenge for people into real hiking. The perfect in between!
Before I start this I want to warn my readers it is a VERY information and photo heavy entry so if you’re here for the pretty gravestone photos feel free to scroll down to the gallery at the bottom of the text and if you’re here for a good chunk of New England history just read on as I take you down this deep deep rabbit hole with me!
It’s funny, I have been loitering around the Newport area for a few years now and although I had always wanted to check out the local cemetery it took me this long to actually get there. But let me tell you it was WELL WORTH the wait! This was one of the most interesting cemeteries I have ever had the joy of wandering through and part of that is because it’s actually seven separate cemeteries that have bled into each other to make one massive burial ground that dates back to our earliest settlements. The oldest parts of the cemetery were founded in 1640 and the newest are from the present day. All together there are thousands of memorials here.
During the colonial era Newport RI was also our largest port, even bigger than Boston at the time, and as such it was always a thriving multicultural area. The cemetery very much reflects this with various sections dedicated to different cultures, religions, and ethnicities. Here you’ll find the country’s oldest Jewish cemetery which dates back to the colonial era and contains mostly a thriving multi-nationl seafaring community as well as God’s Little Acre which is the the largest (and possibly only) cemetery dedicated to both enslaved and free blacks, also of the colonial era. It was these 250 or so slate stones I had especially wanted to see because they are soooo rare, and such a precious historical archive of an otherwise silenced community whose contributions have been largely looked over.
And it’s not only me who recognizes the need to preserve this historic landmark. Intense efforts to restore and preserve what is left here have been underway since the early 1990’s and continue to this day. There were even three stones which were returned to the cemetery after being found in various residences around RI and Pennsylvania. What they were doing in Pennsylvania is a bit of a mystery but one of these stones belonged to a famous woman at the time – Duchess Quamino. Duchess was a woman of remarkable standing. She came to Newport aboard a slave ship as a child, having been born somewhere in Africa. She was then bought by the Channing family who utilized her as a maid and cook. While enslaved she somehow managed to get in the good grace’s of the white church the Channings attended and was able to start her own bakery and catering business becoming the US’s first successful female black business owner.
During this time she married a slave from a different household and eventually had at least four children. Her husband was able to win a lottery and obtain his own freedom but it seems Duchess may have already been a free woman by then. No records exist to show how this happened – if she bought her freedom with the money she made baking or if she was simply granted her freedom. Either way she continued her business and eventually became so famous she earned the moniker “Pastry Queen of Rhode Island” and her delicious baked goods were served to a visiting George Washington at least twice.
Also worth noting was possibly the country’s first professional black artist – Pompe Stevens – who was a stone carver and possibly the one responsible for the distinct black features on the cherub’s heads carved into the stones in God’s Little Acre. He was enslaved by the biggest stone carving family in town and we probably wouldn’t even have known he existed except he carved a beautiful stone for his brother, which he identified as such before signing. He signed two stones in all but likely did a lot more – especially considering how intricate and well-practiced his carvings on those two stones seem to be.
It was a deeply humbling experience to wander God’s Little Acre and come face to face with the bleak reality of slavery in the colonies. The stones were hard to read – “Beloved and trusted by his master” was probably the most cringe worthy phrase I found. And the stories were heartbreaking – stories of black children whose parents were tricked into sending them to America “for and education” and “a better life” but instead ended up here. Buried in a slave cemetery. It’s an ugly mark on our history but we do each of these people a grave injustice by looking away and forgetting their great contributions.
We moved on from here and just wandered about until we found ourselves at a different entrance. And it was there we realized there was a sign up offering a free cell phone guided tour if you could scan the code on the sign. We went for it. But I was getting low on battery and it took a ridiculous amount of steps to set up. The next part of our day was spent fast walking through the stones trying to identify which ones were important according to the tour map which was…. grossly inaccurate. It started off being a few stones away from what they were talking about but by the end it was A LONG WAY AWAY. But we’ll get to that.
There are a lot of notable people buried out here. Among them are a ton of congressmen, mayors, and governors, over 70 Revolutionary war soldiers, a whole section dedicated to Civil War casualties, veterans from every US war, at least 4 famous architects, Charles Bird King (a portrait artist known for painting Native Americans) William Ellery who signed the Declaration of Independence, August Belmont Jr who developed the IRT subway in NYC and the Cape Cod Canal, most of the stone carvers who were responsible for the slate stones, and Ida Lewis “the bravest woman in America” who manned the Lime Rock Light Station for 46 years after the official lighthouse keeper (her father and then mother) died. During this time she rescued at least 36 people from drowning with her first rescue at the age of 12 and her last at 63! Keep in mind lighthouse keepers were NOT obligated to save drowning shipwreck victims for one very good reason – generally shipwrecks were caused by bad weather, bad weather that could easily capsize a tiny rowboat. It was better to guard the light than risk death. But Ida did not feel this way and was known to “row better than any man.” She lived on her own in this badass life until her death of a stroke. Really a remarkable heroine.
And it was Ida Lewis’ stone we couldn’t find at the end of the tour so I will give you some hints. It’s in the same row of stones that face the road near one of the exits. You cannot miss it as it has a HUGE anchor on it.
And I must say that also geeked out hardcore knowing that a number of the stone carvers were buried here as well and a lot of the stones could be attributed to either various members of the Stevens family (which were the first gravestone carvers in Newport and maintained the business for six generations) one of their slaves Pompe Stevens, or John Bull who married a Stevens daughter and then led this INSANE drama filled life that started when his brother pissed away the family inheritance and he had to sell himself into indentured servitude. It gets worse. He was sold to his brother-in-law William Stevens. The two HATED each other because William did not buy his brother-in-law as an act of charity – he expected work from him! And for a while Bull did in fact work as an indentured servant at the stone carving business but this didn’t last terribly long before he got fed up with the situation and basically ran away taking a job at sea where he stayed on ship for years. When he returned William sued him saying he was in breach of contract and still was obligated to work for free for a few years. The courts favored with Bull and in retribution he started his own gravestone carving business right across the street in what seems to be a purely spite based decision. Bull was the most artistic and rebellious of the city’s stone carvers and his work seems glaringly obvious with their side facing facial portraits and he is responsible for a famous stone – that of Charles Bardin – which is known for its intensely blasphemous imagery – that of Moses (or God?) parting the Red Sea. VERY UNUSUAL FOR THE PERIOD. It’s one of a kind and why it was made is still very unclear.
Meanwhile the Stevens family (who began as masons) didn’t escape the colonial era unphased as one of the original brothers, Philip, was noted cryptically in one of the legers as being murdered. Nothing further is stated. A second brother James died at sea.
By this point I was super sunburnt, overheating pretty bad, and tired from the jog so I regret to admit I did not cross the street to check out the colonial Jewish cemetery but I will likely return at some point. Until then I hope this has been an enjoyable read! Happy travels all!
Antiques on the Farmington was located in an old mill – which adds so much to its charm. It was another sprawling place just oozing character. The first thing I noticed was a large amount of little wrought iron piggy banks with moving features. There was the usual clown eating coins and a poodle jumping through a hoop but my favorite was just downright bizarre. It was a small child sitting across from a dentist with a tooth in his hand and you basically fed the small child coins and it’d make it look like the dentist was pulling the tooth out of the poor dear’s mouth! Just WHY would anyone make one of these?? If I realized how cheap it was (a mere $25 – I guess no one wants a piggy bank of dental horror) I may have brought it home. Someday when I have a home of my own… well, there’s going to be a lot of conversation starters just lying about. That’s all I’m saying.
In fact everything I looked at here was super decently priced. There was a sharp scythe that was $25 and even a cricket bat for $35. I’d been looking for one of those… not because I want to play cricket but because I had a morbid curiosity having never seen one but knowing they make great rug beaters… And should I have owned a big oriental rug in need of a violent dusting it would have also come home with me. Did you know they’re rounded on one side? I did not. See, we’re learning things! And hey, if you like British antiques there was an actual pith helmet nearby. Sadly, there weren’t any tiger bite marks in it but that doesn’t mean much. Poor beastie could have slinked away from those big game hunters, you don’t know.
This place also had a lot of… creations. Folk art if you will. I LOVED the mannikin Christmas tree, all the angry chickens, the Victorian nightgown labelled “wedding dress” that looked perfect to haunt people in, the weird asparagus knickknack, and an old black and white photo of a foofy little dog labelled on the back, “Cuddles, our first dog.” HEART MELTING. That was only $2. I seriously contemplated buying it but thought it was a little weird to buy a photo of what is now a very very dead dog for whom I never met. Was super cute though.
And the best and most serendipitous part of the trip? There was a little free library right across the way. I left one of my signed books. It was meant to be.
Twas another rainy day when we struck out to find an antique store worth travelling to having exhausted most options in Rhode Island. To Connecticut! And maybe if it stops raining we could find a nice hike. Spoiler alert, it didn’t, and I was still having flashbacks of the flash flooding from a week previous which nearly drowned the Prius as I hydroplaned from pothole to pothole. Got to my destination by the skin of my teeth AGAIN.
BUT ANYWAY. Collinsville Antiques was chosen partially at random but really because Google searches made it look big. And worth driving the two hours there (and the two hours back… did I mention we’d run dry of local options? Thank God I have a Prius.)
It was indeed a large place – sort of bargain basement of antiques LOADED with creepy dolls including a life-sized Jester hovering over our heads ready to pounce on anyone going by – probably waiting to suck someone’s soul out or some such. He was accompanied by a six-foot Gumby doll which… in retrospect made it even more odd. But what can you expect from a place that had a life size gypsy fortune teller doll? But the weirdest doll had to be a male mammie doll. Well, technically it was a couple mammie dolls all snuggled together but one of the two was definitely a dude and I have to say I’ve never seen that before! Not that it makes it any less racist. And I have to give credit where credit is due. This was the first antique store I’ve been to where the only representations of Asians were realistic and beautiful and not squinty and offensive. Also, unlike the last place we went there was a distinct lack of Nazi propaganda. Hurrah!
But aside from the cursed dolls I also loved this place for its large assortment of antique Halloween decorations and masks. There were several booths dedicated to just this and it was kind of amazing. I love retro Halloween stuff. It’s absolutely darling. And creepy! Tis the season after all.
Other happy finds were a mold for Jell-o beans (yes, beans, I do not know why,) a user’s manual for a VW bus, and a VERY badly taxidermied iguana. From here we’d decide we hadn’t had our fill yet and we’d move on to Antiques on the Farmington not too far away.
