The border between Adamsville and Westport was changed in 1747 from the west bank of the Westport River (which is just to the East of Brayton's Garage) to this location in the middle of the mill pond. The new border cut though established lots creating private properties that were half in RI and half in MA. Though more than two centuries old, the "new" border continues to cause difficulties for dual-state homeowners today.
More importantly, Little Compton lost its claim on the "Acoaxet" triangle, one of Massachusetts' loveliest seaside communities.
]]>The Plymouth Court established Adamsville as part of "Sakonnet" in the seventeenth century. The settlement adopted the name "Little Compton" in 1683 (check). Although Adamsville village had no official name at that time, many people referred to it as "Taber's Mills." What is now Westport, Massachusetts was also called "Dartmouth" during this period.
The original border between Little Compton and Dartmouth was the west bank of what is known today as the Westport River. That approximate location is marked by this pin. At that time, all of Little Compton, including Adamsville, was part of first Plymouth Colony and then later Massachusetts Bay Colony.
In 1747, by decree of King George II, and to the delight of Rhode Islanders, Little Compton, Tiverton and three other Massachusetts border towns officially became part of Rhode Island. The king had the RI/MA border redrawn as a series of straight lines connecting several points exactly three miles in from the eastern bank of the Sakonnet River. This new, straight border ignored the natural contours of the Westport River and split Adamsville in two. The grist mill that was the catalyst for the formation of the village was now in a different state.
Today, the Adamsville/Westport border, established in 1747 by those straight lines, can be found in the middle of the dam (road) between Gray's Grist Mill and the pond. It is marked by a granite post.
]]>A tall man in a long, dark coat and a broad-brimmed hat walked the 2,000 feet across Stone Bridge from the Portsmouth shore to the Tiverton side, where a toll keeper waited to collect his fare. The man passed the money to the keeper, William Cranston, and remarked: “It is a cold blustery day.”
The Stone Bridge keeper’s house provided a warm refuge from the chill of that day, December 20, 1832, but the man declined Cranston’s invitation to come in, saying he was bound for Fall River.
“I shut the gate about sundown,” Cranston later testified, when the man, the Reverend Ephraim Avery, stood trial for the murder of Sarah Maria Cornell, a pregnant Fall River mill worker, whose body was found at sunrise on December 21, hanging from a pole on Job Durfee’s farm.
“There is a way by which passengers can get round the gate at night, after it is closed,” Cranston said. “They have to get down the wall on the beach just where the tide flows, and step up the other side; I sometimes look to see if any people have left tracks passing that way.”
On the morning after the tall man crossed the bridge, Cranston saw tracks “fresh and distinct” in the sand, leading around the toll gate toward the Portsmouth side.
It’s not surprising that Tiverton’s Stone Bridge played a key role in the salacious Avery-Cornell murder trial. For more than 150 years, Stone Bridge acted as a funnel through which anyone traveling across the Sakonnet River on foot, horseback, wagon—or later, automobile and street car—had to pass.
From the 1680s until 1795, when the Rhode Island Bridge Company built a wooden bridge here, a ferry shuttled goods, horses, wagons, and people across the Sakonnet River. The first bridge lasted two years before a high tide swept it away. The rebuilt bridge lasted one year, and ferry service resumed for a decade until subscribers raised $80,000. In 1810, travelers began to cross the new bridge constructed of 280,000 tons of stone at a cost of more than $200,000.
The Great Gale of September 1815 bit a 200-foot chunk out of the bridge, and a gale in 1868 caused a similar breach, prompting the state to take control of a new, toll-free bridge in 1871. The free bridge became a popular spot for hooking striped bass, blue fish, and shark, with one reported landing of a 500-pounder.
Trolley cars from the Newport and Fall River Street Railways began crossing the bridge in 1898, which required replacing the old wooden draw with iron and steel strong enough to hold 20 tons.
On the Tiverton side of the bridge, a village of stores, fish markets, and blacksmith shops blossomed. For more than 100 years, a succession of inns at the foot of the bridge served weary travelers and hosted milestone celebrations for town residents until the 1980s, when the Stone Bridge Inn was razed.
The last car crossed the Stone Bridge on May 6, 1957. The Hurricane of 1938 and Hurricane Carol in `54 weakened the bridge’s approaches and caused service interruptions, leading to construction of the steel Sakonnet River Bridge about a half-mile north of the Stone Bridge. The Sakonnet River Bridge served from 1956 until its replacement was completed in 2012. After almost 150 years of free crossings over the Sakonnet River, tolls may be imposed on the new Sakonnet River Bridge.
Finally, despite testimony that the Reverend Ephraim Avery crossed the bridge into Tiverton, met with Sarah Maria Cornell, and crossed the bridge back to Portsmouth on the night of her murder, he was found not guilty.
]]>On the night of July 9, 1777, a young Rhode Island militia officer named William Barton and a small raiding party slipped through British defenses on the Portsmouth shore and carried away General Richard Prescott—wearing nothing but his nightclothes.
Colonel Barton was second-in-command of the fort at Tiverton Heights, a small foothold against the British forces that occupied Aquidneck Island across the Sakonnet River. That spring, Rhode Island’s General Assembly declared it a disgrace that no attack ``hath, as yet, been made against the enemy.’’ The assembly set bounties on the capture of British soldiers, from $20 for a private to $1,000 for a general.
Barton opted to go after the big prize, the officer in charge of 4,000 British and Hessian soldiers occupying Newport. His plan was so bold that it bordered on foolishness. Besides the troops under his command, Prescott was on an island, protected by a squadron of warships.
On July 3, Barton asked the regiment at Tiverton Heights to undertake a hazardous mission. According to lore, every man stepped forward. He selected forty strong rowers, including Thomas Austin, who carried the scars of 300 lashes on his back, ordered by Prescott after Austin refused the use of his oxen to haul British cannon.
On July 4, 1777, they launched three whaleboats into the Sakonnet for a roundabout trip across Mount Hope and Narragansett Bays before doubling back toward Portsmouth, their oars muffled with sheepskin. They rowed between two British warships, passing so near to one of them that the oarsmen could hear the watch on deck calling out the time.
Finally, the boats crunched ashore at Portsmouth. The men’s feet smudged the dew in the fields as they hiked to the farmhouse of Mr. Overing, where Prescott spent his nights, crossing a creek then cutting through the edge of an orchard hoping to avoid detection.
Led by African-American Guy Watson, who may have been Barton’s slave, the men kicked in the door and stormed into Prescott's chambers. The raiders led the partially-clothed general back across the fields, sat him in a whale boat and rowed him across the bay. The daring raid had succeeded.
The General Assembly made good on its $1,000 reward, a prize that Barton divided among his men. Continental Congress voted to present him “an elegant sword,” even though Barton wrote that he preferred cash. The sword is now in the collection of the Rhode Island Historical Society. The fortification at Tiverton Heights now bears his name, Fort Barton.
Even British Lt. Frederick Mackenzie gave grudging respect to Barton and his men for pulling off the capture: "The Rebels certainly run a great risk in making this attempt. They however executed it in a masterly manner, and deserve credit for the attempt. It is certainly a most extraordinary circumstance, that a General Commanding a body of 4,000 men, encamped on an Island surrounded by a Squadron of Ships of War, should be carried off from his quarters in the night by a small party of the Enemy from without, & without a Shot being fired."
]]>During August 1778, Tiverton was the fulcrum on which the American Revolution teetered. From all over New England militiamen marched along dusty roads to rendezvous at the fort on Tiverton Heights.
From Gloucester, Newburyport, and Marblehead came 265 fishermen to ferry American troops across the Sakonnet River.
From Boston came John Hancock, in command of the Massachusetts militia including Paul Revere, who wrote home, “It seems as if half of Boston was here.”
From New York came 1,000 Continental troops led by Rhode Islander Major-General Nathanael Greene, and another 1,000 led by the 19-year-old Marquis d’Lafayette.
Perhaps most importantly, from France came a fleet of twelve warships commanded by Comte D’Estaing, gun ports open, brass cannon glinting in the sun, the lead ship flying the French colors.
The French were not impressed by the American troops gathered at Tiverton. Lafayette’s aide wrote: “I have never seen a more laughable spectacle; all the tailors and apothecaries in the country must have been called out. They were mounted on bad nags, and looked like a flock of ducks in cross-belts.”
The target of this amassed force was Aquidneck Island, a short row across the Sakonnet. The British occupied the island with a garrison of 6,700 men. Their surrender might break England’s will, resulting in victory for the Americans.
D’Estaing knew that the British fleet expected reinforcements to arrive any day, which would mean certain destruction for the French ships. On the morning of August 10, D’Estaing decided to attack the enemy fleet anchored in Newport, but the British commander ordered his ships to flee. They receded toward the horizon with the French fleet after them, preparing to battle in the Atlantic.
American commander John Sullivan decided to press the land attack without French naval support. He ferried troops, cannon, horses, and supplies across the Sakonnet River, and the force of 10,000 marched toward Newport.
For days, both sides fired cannons at each other mostly without effect, while keeping an anxious eye on the sea, wondering what happened to the naval fleets that had slipped away from Newport to do battle. Whose sails would appear on the horizon?
Fog shrouded Newport on the morning of August 20, so thick it was difficult to see fifty yards. When skies cleared after noon, the sails of twelve large ships appeared. They drew nearer until a look through field glasses revealed the French tri-color flying from their masts.
But the French fleet had been crippled, not through battle with the British but by a storm at sea, and D’Estaing intended to sail into Boston for repairs.
Without support from the French fleet, many militia men wanted no part of British bullets and bayonets, and they began crossing the Sakonnet back to Tiverton in droves. The time had come to end the siege of Newport, but it would not be easy. Sullivan had to ferry nearly 5,000 men across the Sakonnet with an enemy force of 6,000 at his back.
The American retreat was defended by the Rhode Island First Regiment, a segregated unit of enslaved Rhode Islanders—African-Americans, Narragansetts, and men of mixed race—who were promised their freedom in exchange for enlisting. The solders of the 1st wore uniforms of cream-colored pants and jackets, with tall white hats emblazoned with blue anchors and topped with big blue feathers.
Twice the Hessians charged with their bayonets. Twice, in deadly hand-to-hand fighting, the 1st Rhode Island drove them back. The Hessians took on reinforcements and again attacked. With the help of reinforcements, the 1st “soon put the Enemy to rout,” Nathaneal Greene reported to General Washington, and the American forces escaped to Tiverton.
The Battle of Rhode Island resulted in a military draw. The Americans lost 30 dead and 137 wounded, while British losses were 38 dead, 210 wounded. The enemy temporarily kept their stranglehold on Rhode Island, but the underdog Americans stood toe-to-toe with the mighty British and had driven them back.
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