Tag: cemetery

Common Burial Grounds – Newport Rhode Island

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!

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Laurel Hill Cemetery – Wilton NH

After spending a peaceful morning exploring the woods around Purgatory Falls I had decided to continue my adventuring by finding a bunch of Tiny Free Libraries in the area but as I was doing this I kept getting distracted by cemeteries. There’s nothing more alluring to me than an old cemetery deep in the forest and there seemed to be a great deal of them today. After behaving myself and passing three I finally relented when I saw the Laurel Hill Cemetery.

It had a sweet little historical marker out front and a very inviting driveway. I drove in and just like the nearby Vale End Cemetery I’d explored not long ago there was signs about opening hours and rules. No planting of anything in the ground. OK OK, I get it. And I must say for a New England cemetery it was really well plotted out. Everything was on a perfect grid, the roads were nice and straight and clean, the stones themselves were very evenly and amply spaced out, and even weirder this whole place was on flat ground without a hill or weird nook in sight. In the back there seemed to be equipment for a full time groundskeeper and the lawn was immaculately mowed. Everything was in it’s place. It was downright orderly. Of course, to a chaotic individual such as myself this made it uncomfortably creepy.

Most of the stones seemed to date around the late 1800s and were marble. Nothing particularly outstanding until I spotted the only tree in the cemetery itself. It had red on it which attracted me to it. Was it flowers? No, this tree actually turned out to be an apple tree with heritage apples the size of cherries. I ate one to prove this theory to myself and it was crazy sour but definitely an apple!

I milled about for a while and tried to ask Find a Grave if there was anyone of note buried here but my reception wasn’t working. I’d only find out later that Rod Price the founding member and guitarist for Foghat was buried here having died unexpectedly in 2009 after a fall down the stairs. I didn’t even know he lived in the area… as such I had to borrow this image (I’ll try to take my own later.) It is a pretty monument!

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Pine Grove Cemetery – Brunswick Maine

Sometimes it’s nice to have outside influences give me leads on where to go next. This was the case for Pine Grove Cemetery which I had never heard of and certainly wouldn’t have sought out on my own. The reason it had come up was because it was the burial spot for Major General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain who was the Lieutenant Colonel of the 20th Maine Volunteer Infantry which fought at the battle of Gettysburg during the Civil War. Apparently we’ve been half-hazardly stalking him and his men since last summer….

But anyways… this cemetery was easy to find but hard to get into as there was a lot of traffic on that road and the entrances were narrow and graveled. I pulled in and parked at the back hoping I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. Instinctively I had somehow found the oldest part of the cemetery and the exact row we needed to find the grave we were searching for! And that was cool and all… with a big dramatic tree nearby. Upon finding Chamberlain we left a penny and discussed quietly how neat it was that he lived a LONG life after the war eventually settling and becoming a college professor here.

So that’s why we were there. What was harder to explain was why we happened to have a cat in a bag wandering the cemetery with us. Or why she seemed so entertained by the experience. That’d be Stormy, short for Stormaggedon Dark Lord of All. She’d come with us to Maine but now we wanted to stop by a cemetery on the way home (two hours from where we started that morning) she couldn’t be left in a hot car – obviously. So she found herself the proud new recipient of a cloth carrier and guess what? This turned out to be just her thing. She’s apparently just as morbid as we are, just chilling in the cemetery.

And since the cat wasn’t taking offense to this interlude we decided to keep ambling and see what else this place had to offer. Most of it was very standard fare – plain stones, the occasional mourning woman, some angels…. and then something wildly bizarre – a modern slate stone with a crazy assortment of carvings ranging from the traditional (a skeleton at the top) to the downright bizarre – a flipped VW Bus on the back. Yes, both back and front were decorated with poems and insignia. Obviously, this peaked my interest. WHO ARE YOU?!

Turns out this guy was a real local character. His name was Walter Stauffer Skold and he was the founder of the Dead Poet’s Society (not that one – although it was named after the movie!) Apparently he made it his life’s mission to find the forgotten and lost graves of poets in the state of Maine. He found more than 600 of them before commissioning this stone to be made for himself. The artist in charge of the project was the grandson of John Updike the famous author. Sadly he died unexpectedly a month after it’s completion and never saw it in his lifetime. But wow – it’s a lovely stone and a great story!

I was delighted by the colorful personalities laid to rest here and took a number of whimsical photos including one of a big tree changing colors (HELLO, it’s not autumn yet!) It was a great way to end our little trip to Maine.

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Mayflower Hill Cemetery – Taunton MA

We headed over to the Mayflower Hill Cemetery after reading online that there was a haunted cemetery marker there in the shape of a rocking chair. It was the stone of a young girl who died in the 1800’s and was reported to have come back for a little sit-in every now and then.

When we drove in we found the chair almost immediately with no searching. This once again disappointed my companion who loves the thrill of the chase. Even worse we are both super jaded by going to other amazing cemeteries and this one seemed to lack character.

“No wonder they think this stone is haunted, it’s the only one that looks any different than the others.”

And it was true. This cemetery had a profound lack of creativity. The rocking chair was piled with toys but there wasn’t much else going on. Just a few cast iron stones smattered here and there. We did however find a pretty big monument to fallen veterans which included cannons that were suspiciously pointed directly at local houses and a few mourning women type stones. Curiously Jane Toppan was supposed to be buried somewhere out here. She was an Angel of Death, a female serial killer nurse who admitted to killing 31 of her patients between 1880-1901 with morphine. She died in an insane asylum and doesn’t appear to have much of a marker, just a tiny headstone reading, “981.”

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St Anne’s Cemetery Cranston Rhode Island

It’s spring and its finally time to start up Catching Marbles again! And what better way to do that than to take a sweet little amble through a garden cemetery? And let me tell you this one was a douzy!

I’d never heard of St Anne’s but it’s a Catholic (mostly Italian) cemetery hidden away in Lincoln Rhode Island. There are a lot of normal head stones here but there’s probably even more that are severely monied. I’m talking vault styled mausoleums complete with stained glass windows, family plots that look like their own mini gardens, stones that are enormous and ornately carved with religious imagery, and even one where the Virgin Mary was kept safe behind a milky aquarium-like shield. Clearly many of the people here were wealthy beyond measure. And Italian. And Catholic. And perhaps had a lot to repent for. Make of that what you will. I’m not making any potentially lethal enemies today!

St Anne’s was shocking not just in how much wealth was on display here but just how many people were buried on these hallowed grounds. What initially looked like an ordinary mid-size cemetery from the gates just sprawled and stretched out for acres and acres. We only explored a small fraction of it. Enough to get a lifetime’s worth of Virgin Marys, starved Jesuses, and sooo many creepy angels. I’d love to return here during a different time of day when the lighting is kinder and see if I can get any more dramatic cemetery photographs. All and all even though my camera fought with me the whole time this was an awesome trip I would highly suggest to any other taphophiles and I would be more than content to return here myself someday.

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Mount Olivet Cemetery – Frederick Maryland

What’s a vacation without a stroll through a local cemetery? Boring, that’s what. Long before we packed the car we had our hearts set on checking out this cemetery. My travel companion was interested in it’s history (it is the mass burial grounds for a great deal of Civil War soldiers who died in the area during four separate battles – over 400 of which remain unidentified.) For me it was less about history and more about seeing what cemeteries look like in a different part of the country and this one looked big and old with some stones going back to the 1700’s.

We’d been flirting with this cemetery for days. Our first glimpse of it was at night when the gates were closed. We decided to walk around the fenceline aside the road and see how big it was to determine how long we’d need to explore it the next day. It went on and on and on and on…. and strange things kept happening. My camera refused to snap any photos, my travel companion was complaining of the smell of pipe smoke… It was time to hang this one up for the night.

The next day we once again didn’t make it there before dark. However there was still an hour or two before it closed so we drove in to check it out all the same. We noticed that there was a large monument at the beginning of it memorializing Francis Scott Key, the writer of our national anthem who was buried under the aforementioned monument. We would find his parents in the cemetery later on – protected by a little iron fence.

Also buried here were Barbara Hauer Fritchie who became famous when at the age of 95 she refused to surrender to the Confederate troops marching through her property. I guess at ninety-five you have very little to lose but it’s still a great story about a fiery old woman. And somewhere nearby there is the grave of the US’s first unofficial president and his wife who served before George Washington. I’m sorry I have already forgotten their names. Luckily I took photos that read John and Jane Hanson. So there, I don’t have to remember. Also of note was the first fireman to die in the line of duty, a bunch of soldiers from every war, and a memorial to the children who fought and died in the Civil War. Yes, children. And of course there are congressmen galore sprinkled throughout like confetti. And for the more gruesome there is a whole section for infants nicknamed “babyland” and a mass burial of Civil War soldiers who died in battle. This was more than enough to make me wonder if anyone was still lingering here after their demise. If so I didn’t feel any of them on this particular night.

On our last day in Frederick we took a huge chunk of time to go see the cemetery during daylight hours. It’s so big that it’s split up into sections – each named after a letter in the alphabet. I was drawn to the more ornate monuments, many of which had imagery on them I was completely unfamiliar with, others which I had seen before (like the cross and crown) but not often back home.

This cemetery was completely engrossing. Every time I thought we were done someone would find something else interesting. And we never did find the children of the Civil War monument but we did visit Confederate row where I learned that many of the confederates were poor whites… essentially fighting against their own interests (you can’t tell me an economy that favors slaves would have any higher opinion of exploiting those only one tier higher than them in class.) A lot of them were fighting for weird subtext kind of things like pride for their community or because that’s who their brother was fighting for or because of a convoluted misinterpretation of “states rights” – which I hear even today and it’s completely asinine. Freedom of the States does not mean freedom of the individual to do whatever the fuck they please – even the first pilgrims toppling off the Mayflower had a system of laws they had to abide by. Plus freedom of the individual should never extend to freedom of that individual to take the freedom of another individual. That’s just not workable in any way shape or form.

I got depressed thinking about all this. Because those Confederate soldiers who were so callously misled by the powers that be… they’re still very much alive in the bodies of their grand children. And still fighting against their own economic interests. And the idea that we never learn from history became very tiring to me.

My travel companion was struggling with all this too because at some point someone had torn down and defaced the Confederate memorial… which was placed by the Union to honor those they fought. I can understand the distress of this but I also understand there are A TON of Confederate statues erected in the 1960’s in direct response to the Civil Rights movement to basically scare people of color into accepting the status quo. And those statues… should absolutely be torn down. But this is America. We’re not good at nuance so maybe it’s for the better this statue has been lost. And maybe in the future, when we can all agree racism and all it’s various institutions are bad, can we look respectfully back at our own turbulent past.

This cemetery gave me a lot of food for thought. I learned things I didn’t expect and came home a humbler person for it.

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Edgar Allen Poe’s grave – Westminster Cemetery – Baltimore Maryland

Before leaving for Maryland my travel companion learned that Edgar Allen Poe was buried in Baltimore and asked if he could be lucky enough to see both the grave of H P Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe in the span of a month. I didn’t see any issue with this as I love walking through cemeteries and used to know The Raven by heart. So of course this was the first thing we had on our list of to-do’s and the first thing we actually accomplished.

Edgar Allen Poe is buried in the Westminster Cemetery which is still attached to a church and is gated with appropriately Gothic looking iron fencing. It was still daylight so we were able to go in and take a respectful look around. A few tourists were crowded around Poe’s monument but the rest of this dainty cemetery was unpopulated by the living. And boy was it unique! Despite being small it had a lot of character. There were historic markers spread out explaining that a lot of the important people of Baltimore were buried here. Some told stories of prominence while others shed light on tragedy like the mother who lost ten children in her lifetime. Because it was part of church property we got to see stones that were right next to the building a few which seemed to be under it. There were also a number of tombs that appeared to be bricked in above ground burials, the likes of which I have never seen around my New England home. I always thought this was the sort of thing cities prone to flooding did but maybe there was some other reason. Also nestled in a quiet and almost hidden corner (which we only discovered after our guest disappeared around a hedge) was a series of monuments that had some Egyptian flare. One was shaped like a pyramid, another had very Egyptian looking busts. I guess it was in vogue at the time.

All and all this gave the entire cemetery a very unique charm. I almost didn’t want to leave. And of course we found both the original grave of Edgar Allen Poe and his current resting place across the cemetery. Both were adorned with beautiful stones. I couldn’t imagine a better place for one of the founders of the horror genre to be spending eternity.

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Swan Point Cemetery – Providence RI

Swan Point Cemetery is a gorgeous 200 acre garden cemetery that I had been meaning to return to so I could take photos and blog it. My first visit was to find the grave of H P Lovecraft, which we did, but it was a very short visit as the cemetery was closing within the hour. This time we made sure to leave quite early so we could have the time to walk the entire grounds and I must say there was a lot to see!

I think I was struck with the diversity in this particular graveyard. There seemed to be a lot of different ethnicities calling this their last resting place. Some of the stones even had different languages on them and a lot had symbols and designs even I was at a loss to interpret – which is always great fun! And mixed among them there were mausoleums, pillars, crosses, angels of all sorts, bronze statues, and a great deal of truly creative stones. One was even in the form of a dollhouse with the front door reading, “welcome home.” In fact there was a lot of endearing messages on these stones that would melt anyone’s heart – words of affirmation and love – poems, epitaphs, and Bible verses.

I was also enamored with how many kinds of monuments there were here – everything from traditional slate stones, to simple marble, to ornately carved marble, to metal, to natural granite boulders which were probably already there, to metal and mausoleums. It gave this place great character!

And so did all the infant stones. There were a lot buried within family plots that had not only their own stones but names in recognition of their exceptionally brief existence. It was pretty clear a lot of these were likely stillbirths and it sort of hit a soft spot with me. Having toured a lot of the less wealthy cemeteries I know historically infants and toddlers frequently weren’t given stones and of the handful of infants I have found almost none of them had names – instead being listed as “baby.” Sometimes they’d be buried with their mother if she also died during the birth or shortly after. I don’t think it’s because the poor loved their children any less – I think this was more a question of who has the luxury to spend time mourning. Infant deaths have historically been very common and in those days women were usually encouraged to just move on without any real grieving period – just pretending it never happened. It was another sobering lesson on the realities of the economic classes.

Another one of these reminders came in the form of the servicemen I found – coming from each of the wars of the past century – their memorials often had whole passages written on them on how exactly they died – overseas, during battle, as a prisoner in foreign lands, or in the hospital after being injured in battle. I was not used to this. I was used to the only identification that a serviceman was buried being the flag planted aside the grave that is paid for by the state. It was a lot to take in.

Meanwhile we did manage to find the grave of H P Lovecraft. I like finding author graves… the tokens left on them are frequently interesting. Today someone had left a bottle of whisky, a woolen hat, and a series of rubber duckies. Why, I have no idea but it was fun to speculate!

All and all I had a great time and think this would be a wonderful place for a little stroll or even a picnic. It was mid October when I visited and freakishly warm at more than 70 degrees. The sun melted me into a puddle! But other than that it was very pleasant for both me and my travel companion.

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Mount Hope Cemetery – Bangor Maine

I must admit the Mount Hope Cemetery has been on my bucket list since I was told about it a few years ago. It’s a very large cemetery (possibly the largest I’ve been to with 300 acres and over 5,500 stones!) But besides the sheer amount of stones it’s also beautiful. As far as I know it’s the only garden cemetery in Maine, the second installed in the United States, and is situated amongst the hills of what must have been a swamp at one point which is now a series of well manicured mini ponds.

The cemetery functions also as a park and there’s tons of parking and a number of people out taking walks – perhaps in the steps of a young Stephen King who was said to wander here as a college student looking for inspiration to name his characters off the stones. (And I thought I was the only one to do this!) The monuments speak to great wealth and were at times pretty extravagant. We were on a search for a few famous inhabitants here – first the stone of a certain Mr. Peavey who invented a logging tool in his name that saved countless lives on Maine’s rivers. The second was Hannibal Hamelin who was vice president under Abraham Lincoln. (And who also has a “death couch” at the local library which I have yet to poke at.) Other people of note were gangster Al Brady, comedian Richard Golden, and actor Ralph Sipperly. The only one of these we found was Hamelin who was situated at the very front of the cemetery near the road and was easy to spot.

We both really enjoyed an afternoon amble through the cemetery. We weren’t there long at all when I snapped a photo of a lot of plots that were for The Home for Aged Women. In it a bright orb showed up. I have taken a lot of photos in all sorts of graveyards and cemeteries, this is the first time this has shown up so maybe we weren’t alone!

Indeed it wasn’t long before we found several Civil War memorials – which I must say is a bit odd for New England. And they were strange! A castle and a bronze statue of a faceless grim reaper dragging someone off to the great beyond. I was intrigued. There was also a memorial for the fallen of the Korean War which had a disturbing little plaque that noted half the fatalities of that war were in prison camps.

We went pretty far and enjoyed a great deal of the sights when my travel companion noticed something odd on one of the stones. It was a large bird of some kind. I thought this probably was an owl – which are fond of cemeteries as they are the perfect hunting ground for mice – but actually it was a hawk. A huge, fat, wet hawk. Probably perched here in the sun to dry off. It let us get alarmingly close without reacting. These photos were taken with full zoom but we were still only a few feet away. Just far enough to feel like we were safe from having our faces ripped off if it decided to turn. Very odd. But sweet in a way. Perhaps it was paying respects to a long forgotten life. We continued on after a few minutes, leaving the bird there to keep chilling.

It was a wet day with grey skies and slippery grass. It was probably this that resulted in the end of our little jaunt when my travel companion went flying down some stone steps landing with exceptional violence on his back. He was lucky to have been able to walk out of there. We decided to leave after this in search of first aid supplies for all the cuts. That being said – besides this little incident the trip to the cemetery was well enjoyed by both of us and maybe someday we’ll return to find those other stones. And the nearby death couch…

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The “Viking Tower” and Other Walking Sights in Newport RI

I know, I know, another Newport entry?! Yes. Because life and schedules and so many other things! Just keeping it local for yet another week after last week’s lovely Cliff Walk.

Touro Park & Tower

Awhile ago I lamented I hadn’t gone to see the ever mysterious “Viking” tower in Newport which is pretty lame because I have spent the past year and some months going back and forth to Newport without seeing what’s arguably it’s most contentious monument. Back in the day the Old Timers liked to tell their children it was built by Vikings sometime before the British colonists. And then some historians came in and said well no… this is in no way Viking architecture which started a wild debate that has raged for decades now. What we do know about it is that it was cited on the earliest maps of the area which suggests it was here either as one of the very first structures built by the colonists or well before them. Right now the most popular theory is that it was built by the first farmers in Newport as a windmill. Not everyone agrees with this assessment.

I was excited to see it for myself because I’d seen pictures of it on documentaries and I was already entranced by it’s bizarrely Roman styled arches. The earliest recorded colonists in the area were British, not Italian, so it’s… an enigma. We don’t even know for sure what it actually was… was it a windmill? A tower? A place of worship? A monument? An observatory? WE HAVE NO IDEA.

The tower is located in a little park surrounded by green grass and other monuments that mark important events int he city’s history but it’s distinctly different. It draws you to it like a stone Mona Lisa. I am so happy I got to see it in person because I immediately noted a few things I didn’t not see on other photos. First off it wasn’t just a tower – inside there were very clearly purposeful nooks, shelves, windows, and holes. I struggled to make sense of them wondering if they could be reached at some point from a possibly wooden staircase that’d long since rotted away from human memory. It almost looked like… a library, little places for books or perhaps religeous statues. None of that made sense in a colonialist context. The first Puritan settlers weren’t exactly big readers (unless youc ount the Bible) and they did not believe in worshipping idols. What made even less sense was the archetecture. Besides having very obvious Roman arches I was also quick to note that this structure was put together mostly by gravity with very little mortar. This was unlike Roman structures but did remind me of the castles I’d once seen in central Europe. A real conundrum.

In case you’re wondering if perhaps this wasn’t the work of the indigenous peoples that’s about the only thing I am willing to count out because they were not known to create permanent monuments of any kind and although there are stone structures around new England that were likely built by native peoples this looked nothing like those modest little places of worship. Whoever did this seemed… worldly. One of the possibilities that is only murmured about is the fact it may have been built by other white settlers who came before the Mayflower. There’s no proof anyone ever made it here but there are a lot of weird unexplained artifacts here and there that suggest several ethnicities of people made it across the sea at some point either to die stranded here or perhaps taken in by the indigenous peoples. This is my favorite theory although it doesn’t go so far as to explain exactly who these intrepid explorers were or why they built this thing.

ANYWAY. The tower was just the beginning of our adventuring that day. We also checked out the rest of the park which had some sort of monument in the middle that was hard to interpret. Something about relations with China and then the physical part of the monument seemed to be a bronze work of a bunch of slaves being taken from Africa. I do not believe the two things were related but this was probably once the town common where slaves would have been sold alongside livestock and other goods. It makes sense… but I it still strikes me as a bit tone deaf.

We just walked around after this. Newport is FILLED with named homes all on the historic register. Each displaying cute little plaques. Everything from the elk’s lodge that was once a Naval Academy during the Civil War to the home of the guy who first introduced the tomato to America! Plus some homes that really looked like they started life as a barn and a weird reclaimed church someone painted a delightful Gothic purple. Appreciate your sense of humor – whoever you are!

Trinity Church & Adjoining Historic Newport Cemetery #10

Of course the day wouldn’t have been complete without some cemeteries and churches. our first was the Trinity Church which looks quite plain from the outside but that would have been the Puritan way. Built it 1726 as a church for a congregation that formed in 1698 it’s claim to fame is that George Washington once visited here (as well as other notables Queen Elizabeth II, Prince Andrew, and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.) Plus the guy who once asked, “if a tree falls in the forest will it make a sound?” was one of the Bishops who gave sermons here. Legend says he came up with that question while meditating on a nearby beach. The church has kept much of its historic charm – including box pews and nodding rods once used to poke people awake during services. People still worship here and I guess they still give tours as well. We didn’t check this out but we did pop around the back to amble through their adorable historic cemetery – also known as Historic Newport Cemetery #10. As far as I can tell the only person of note to be buried here is US senator William Hunter – 1774-1849. That being said it was a small and well maintained cemetery with a lot of wonderful slate stones, worn by the salty weather on the coast here but still legible. A very nice introduction to this sort of graveyard.

Bowen’s Wharf

By now we were wandering by the wharf which… I’m sure my companion was sick to death of but probably got to see through new eyes on this particular day. I am not 100% sure associating with Benedict Arnold is the best selling point they could have thought up but there it is proudly displayed on the sign. People were everywhere on this gorgeous summer day. The place was bustling. And the smell of delicious food from the local restaurants wafted through the air. I’m told seals exist somewhere in the water which is news to me. New England has seals?! OK! We didn’t poke any further instead deciding to walk on by the wharf to the end of the street where I found this terrifying statue of a child being eaten whole by the ocean.

The Sailing Museum

We didn’t go in the sailing museum but I was brought by it because it looks like a castle and well… that’s kinda cool. But hey, if sailing is your bag then by all means I’m sure it’s lovely.

Saint Mary’s Parish

From here it was a mere hop to Saint Mary’s Parish which is where John F Kennedy got married to Jackie Bouvier. It’s pretty. And in a very active part of town. I took a bunch of photos all while telling my travel companion this whole street looked haunted. He told me all the churches were supposed to be and that’s the exact moment I took this photo with a weird white mist. Take from that whatever you want.

The International Tennis Hall of Fame

Next we walked to the International Tennis Hall of Fame which is situated next to a building that looks distinctly out of place with what to me looks like Bavarian architecture. The Tennis Hall of Fame was no less bizarre. I couldn’t even put my finger on what style it was supposed to be built in. A lot of the ornamentation looked vaguely Asian but the building itself looked like… a lot of people added to it over time. It was odd. We walked through to the courtyard. It was a nice restful stop away from the hustle and bustle of this tourist town. Out here there were numerous tennis courts and several people of varying skills whacking the ball back and forth. it was surprisingly chill. There was even a bunny here just wandering around chewing on the grass, oblivious to the humans. I very much enjoyed the beauty of the buildings as we walked around. “Is tennis a big thing here in Newport?” “I don’t know… I guess?” And that’s when we came to the old theater which had a plaque out front stating some famous thespian had played Sherlock Homes there back in the day… I knew nothing of the guy but I guess he is the one who started wearing a deerstalker hat for the character and it really caught on. Whether that happened here in Newport I have no idea but it’s a fun little story and I’m sorry I forgot his name. Basil something. Basil Rathbone. Yes, the most Englishy sounding name ever. Thank you Google!

Christopher Columbus Statue

After wandering like a deranged squirrel for a while we ended up passing a statue of Christopher Columbus which seemed… odd and out of place. I only make note of it now because I think it won’t be long before we take down all depictions of this genocidal dipshit. There are a lot of better historic figures to worship.

Newport Art Museum

The Newport Art Museum is as whimsically adorable as it is beautiful and I really enjoyed talking a photo of it coyly hiding behind a big flowering tree. We didn’t go in – I’m not even sure if they’re open considering Covid and all. It didn’t really look very lively… but it might be a nice place to poke at at some point.

Redwood Library and Athenium

As we made our way back to the car we passed our final curiosity – the Redwood Library and Athenium established in 1747. They have historic books and records and were currently inflating a huge silver alien to place on an equally giant rocking chair in the front yard. Two women caught sight of me and happily burbled, “Hello!” That’s the perks of having crazy colored hair. Other weird people are so excited to meet me. We both really wanted to check out this place but it closed at 4 and we didn’t get our lazy butts around in time. Perhaps another adventure for another day. It does look super interesting!

Miniature Occassions and Dolls

Oh! I lied! There was one more totally weird stop I forgot about – Miniature Occasions and Dolls. When we walked by it we just had to go in – you know, to see if they had any haunted dolls. Keep in mind I’ve never been into an actual doll shop before so this was quite the experience! It was a tiny little shop crammed to the ceiling with dollhouses and miniature treasures to put in said dollhouses. It was all at once terrifying and fascinating. On a couch sat two antiquated ventriloquist dummies and above their head, I kid you not, was a ceiling full of hanging naked headless baby dolls. I have no idea why but I could not for the life of me resist taking one quick snap when the shop owner was looking away. CAN YOU BLAME ME?! Anyway – all serial killer vibes aside this looks like a great place to buy such novelties if you’re so inclined. And so ends this adventure… until next time!

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