New England – Fall 2010 – Day 15: Newport to Hyannis via Pawtucket

This was to be Julia’s heritage day, she had always known that she had relatives in New England but the prospect of going there had galvanized her into action. She learned from her mother that her mother was one of twelve children who grew up in the Ilkeston area a town between Derby and Nottingham, where lace making was a flourishing trade. Before the war two of the sisters, Ida and Bess, had taken their skill to Pawtucket where there was a need for lace-makers. Thinking how far away from Derbyshire New England is even when flying makes their decision to head for a new life in America all the more remarkable. Iris, Julia’s mum, had sent cards and letters to them for years before they both passed and she still had their addresses, as well as the address of a friend of theirs, Angie, who outlived them both.
After breakfast in the Dunkin Donuts we had spotted the previous night, which incidentally maintained the Newport tradition of getting the order wrong. We were able to get the order corrected and we set off having put Angie’s address into the SatNav. Pawtucket was not as industrial as we had expected and we found Angie’s house without any problem – it looked easily old enough to be unchanged since Iris had been writing to Angie. The house looked to be perhaps three flats and probably still occupied but we had no reason to enquire further so we moved on. The next address took us to a major junction, and was a huge seemingly recent block of flats. We took photos but really doubted that this monster featured in Ida and Bess’s lives. When we returned to England Iris confirmed to our surprise that the two ladies had retired to that block of apartments which was at that time reserved for women. Thinking about the size of the building Julia asked if there had been an apartment number which went with the address but Iris was adamant that her letters had always got there without such detail.
On the same road we had spotted in guide books and maps there was Slater Mill, an exhibit of an industrial mill built on the Blackstone River very much in the style of Derbyshire mills on the Dove or Derwent. Slater Mill is named after an English man “Slater the Traitor” who brought the mill machine technology to New England in secret and in considerable danger. As it was Columbus Day the museum was open and we decided to sign up for a conducted tour. We paid our $11 each, $1 discount for being members of the AA the British equivalent of the AAA, driving association. The young lady, in period costume, who took our money was excited to learn we were British, over-exited to hear we came from Derbyshire and almost overcome with excitement when we told her Julia’s relatives had come to work in the area!
Located on the Blackstone River in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Slater Mill is a museum complex dedicated to bringing one of the most exciting and significant periods of American history to life. Visitors to the site experience a time when an America of small farmers and craftsmen was poised to become the industrial leader of the world
In the Slater Mill itself, visitors are surrounded by vintage textile machinery bathed in the light of large windows. With expert commentary from costumed interpreters they can imagine the lives of the people – many of them children – who made the early mills come alive. In the nearby Wilkinson Mill they can feel the throb of the great 16,000-pound mill wheel, a replica of the original wheel that harnessed the power of the Blackstone River to make the era’s finest tools. Children get up close and personal with early production processes as they provide the power and operate miniature machinery in the Apprentice Alcove. And in the Sylvanus Brown House they can look back to a time when spinning, weaving, cooking and quilting were the stuff of everyday life.
The story of Slater Mill is the story of innovation, of labor, of artisans, of women’s rights, of the cotton economy, of immigration and assimilation, as well as the story of industry. It is culturally, educationally and historically important for people of all ages and origins to be able to come, see, touch, learn and be inspired at Slater Mill.
Our tour started in the garden of the Sylvanus Brown House and an enthusiastic man showed us round the house and the Wilkinson Mill although the mill wheel was not turning. On the shop floor above the wheel the machines were switched on using electricity rather than water-power, and we realised how noisy and dangerous the environment had been for the workers, the moving machine parts were lubricated with grease which pretty much coated everywhere including the floor so the workers operated barefoot to increase their grip and developed sign language to communicate above the noise. Most of them were close to stone deaf before they retired but in all of this they counted themselves very lucky to work there as they were paid about four times what they could earn in agriculture. The Wilkinson Mill produced machine parts for the cotton and lace industries which thrived along the Blackstone River.
Our guide to the Slater mill was the young lady from reception, her excitement seemed to increase as she took us through the exhibits most of which were in working order but some could not be switched on due to health and safety regulations.
The first machine which she showed us was a cotton picking machine, not picking the cotton from the bush but picking the seeds and impurities from the already picked cotton. The machine performed its task thirty times faster than it had been done previously by hand. She said that it was the invention and adoption of these machines which perpetuated slavery in the south because it had been uneconomic to farm cotton using slaves and owners were thinking of abandoning the practice.
We enjoyed the tour and set off again towards Cape Cod in mid afternoon. We planned on visiting the Whaling Museum but as we were running late we reset the satnav and followed its directions to the Heritage House Hotel in Hyannis.
Having checked in and taken tea in our room we drove through the harbour area to the Kennedy Memorial on the Lewis Bay waterfront and beside it the Korean War Memorial which in turn is next to Veterans' Park Beach. This was our first chance to walk on a beach this holiday. While we were there we noted several groups of three people, each group consisting of a photographer, a model and a director/minder. The group which claimed our attention was one where the female model was proudly pregnant, think basketball sized bump, in a bikini. We could only assume their pictures were for specialised tastes or she had agreed to the session some nine or ten months before.
The light was beautiful and I could quite understand the urge to capture some photographs and having done so we headed back to the hotel.
As was becoming our custom, I took a walk along Main Street to check out the restaurants while Julia swam. Everywhere seemed expensive so I had made no decision when we set off later together to settle on a place to eat. We had some domestic tension when Julia realised that she had forgotten her glasses and could not read menus or prices. Ever the gentleman, I set off back to the hotel still moving poorly due to my tweaked back. In the room I couldn’t find the glasses but picked up her spare pair, I finally caught up with her towards the far end of the street and we re-traced our steps. We finally settled on a cheap Thai restaurant with two starters and a main for $8. I was not amused when Julia opened her jacket to reveal her glasses hooked into her shirt! Oh how we laughed!
The meal was cheap and cheerful the two starters were balanced on the side of the main plate but everything was tasty.
We returned to the hotel as it started to rain.