All travelers, including Hamilton, Birket, Knight, Winthrop, and others who followed the Post Road, have recorded their encounters with bad weather, tales of driving rainstorms, ice and snow, or even, in the case of Sarah Knight in the spring of 1704, mild weather that resulted in muddy trails and swollen creeks from melting ice and snow. Knight almost drowned trying to cross Dwight’s Brook in Dedham, only ten miles from her home in Boston. I, on the other hand, am easily deterred by five days of incessant rain since I have no schedule to keep. Happily the sun finally reappears after this prematurely early taste of fall, and I return to the road, or the Rhode, as in Rhode Island, the island which has come to be the name of the entire state.  Crossing the island from Bristol Ferry to Newport will be the final leg of my journey along the Boston to Newport leg of the Post Road before I return to Providence and follow the route Knight took on her journey to Connecticut.

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        Travel times from Boston to Newport have been considerably reduced over the nearly four centuries of recorded travel between the two towns. Both Alexander Hamilton in 1744 and James Birket in 1750 stopped overnight on their way, arriving in Newport the following evening. An advertisement from the Boston Newsletter in the issue of April 4, 1720, contained the following stagecoach route:

“These are to give notice that the stagecoach from Boston to Bristol Ferry, for once a fortnight the next six months, Intends to set out for the first time from Boston at Five o’clock on Tuesday morning the 12 currant, and to be at the said ferry Wednesday noon, when those from New Port may there arrive and be brought hither on Friday night. Such as have a mind to go for Bristol or Rhode Island may agree with John Blake at his House, Sudbury Street-Boston for their passage to the said ferry at 25s. each person 14 Pounds weight of carriage, and 3d for every pound over.” (1)

    That works out to 59 miles in 31 hours, a rate of less than two miles per hour, assuming the coach was on time. I can walk faster than that, but I don’t have fourteen pounds of luggage to transport.   Blake’s stagecoach only transported his customers to Bristol Ferry, where a crossing was required, followed by a journey of twelve miles to Newport. Thus the total journey easily took the better part of two days. Today, the Peter Pan Bus from South Station to the Newport Transportation Center takes slightly less than two hours, while energetic drivers can make the journey in about an hour and a half. A  cyclist could cover the distance in a leisurely manner in seven or eight hours. To walk at a reasonable fifteen miles a day from Boston would require a trip of about five days. Today I will walk the final leg of the Boston to Newport journey, from one end of Aquidneck Island to the other. Sixty miles from Boston are already behind me, and twelve miles to go to Newport.

*****

        Roads provide clues to the history of the people that created them. Most travelers descending from the Mount Hope Bridge on to Aquidneck Island do not think twice about the name of the road they enter as they follow the Siren call to the playground of Newport.  Bristol Ferry Road actually continues north past the entrance to the bridge down to the water at the tip of Aquidneck, and it was here that travelers to and from Newport went to be conveyed across the waters of Mount Hope Bay by the various ferries that operated here as early as 1680. As Charles Chapin put it “the lands on the Bristol side were in possession of the Indians and it was not until the latter were exterminated and the town of Bristol planted, that the ferry here under consideration was established.” (2) The first ferry was established as early as 1640 and connected Aquidneck Island to the mainland at what is now Tiverton, Rhode Island. This ferry, variously known as Howland’s, Anthony’s, or Gorton’s Ferry was located on the northeastern corner of the island, at the place where the distance to the mainland was the shortest. The original ferry was quickly superseded in importance once the Bristol Ferry was established, as the latter ferry offered a more direct route to the places that mattered to most people such as Boston, Bristol, and Providence. The existence of two ferries does help to explain a peculiarity in the roads of Aquidneck. There are two main roads that traverse the island from north to south and have been since at least as early as 1717 when a tally of highways specifically mentioned only two, “The King’s High Rode on the East Side of the Island and The King’s High Rode on the West Side of the Island.” (3)

        The two main roads that run the course of the island pose a problem: which is “The” Post Road? The obvious answer is the West Main Road as it originates at Bristol Ferry and heads due south to Newport. There was originally only one road, the “Newport Path,” mentioned in the town records of February 22, 1648. (4) Three lines of evidence point to East Main Road as the original road to Newport: first, the establishment of the ferry to Tiverton by Thomas Gorton in 1640, which is directly linked to East Main Road; second, the town of Portsmouth, established in 1638 at the north end of Aquidneck Island in the vicinity of the intersection of Route 24 and Boyd’s lane, slowly migrated to East Main Road, where the churches, library, and town offices of Portsmouth remain today, as do most of the houses listed in the report on “The Historic and Architectural Resources of Portsmouth Rhode Island,” prepared by the Rhode Island Historical Commission in January, 1979, an indication that East Main Road has had the lion’s share of development for almost four centuries; and third, the aforementioned town records of Portsmouth, in which there is a specific reference to the lands of Philip Sherman and his neighbor, a “Mr. Almie,” which situates the property of the two landholders directly on the Newport Path, at what is today the area at the intersection of East Main Road and the superbly named Stub Toe Lane.

        What difference does it make which is the original road? After all, Hamilton surely followed West Main Road in 1744 as did Birket in 1750. Which do I follow, the old road, or the later road (I hesitate to call a three hundred year old road the “new” road) which was used as the more direct route from Bristol Ferry to Newport? A Solomonic solution is in order, and I decide to split the difference. As Bristol Ferry Road continues south past the Mount Hope Bridge, it branches into two roads after a mile: to the left is Turnpike Avenue, which leads to Portsmouth Center at East Main Road, and West Main, which receives the traffic from Route 24 as it spills onto Aquidneck Island. I like the idea of walking down Bristol Ferry Road, so I take that road for a mile then turn left and continue down Turnpike Avenue until I reach East Main Road, which I follow until the East and West Main road merge into one road two miles from the Colony House in Newport.  This way I avoid the traffic from Route 24, experience a little of Hamilton’s and Birket’s journey, and follow what looks to be the more interesting and older East Main Road.

*****

  

     A question that has surely troubled generations of young geography students is how did it come to pass that a state that is mostly on the mainland acquired the name Rhode Island? A classic trivia question is  “what is the full name of the state of Rhode Island?” The answer is that the official name is “The State of Rhode Island and the Providence Plantations.” As I have discussed previously, Roger Williams founded Providence in 1636 after being chased out of Boston for his religious views. An even more zealous group of religious dissidents forced to leave Boston enlisted the help of Williams to purchase Aquidneck Island from the Narragansett Indians in 1638. (5) These settlers consisted of a group of about nineteen households, that joined together to sign a “compact” to “incorporate ourselves into a Bodie Politick,” which resulted in the establishment of a second “dissenting” colony on Aquidneck Island, renamed Rhode Island in 1644, possibly after the Greek island, but also perhaps because an early Dutch name for the island was “Roode” or Red Island, a possible reference to the prominent fall foliage seen from the sea by Adrien Block and other early Dutch explorers.(6) Among the leading dissidents who established the colony of Rhode Island was Anne Hutchinson, a famous “victim” of the intolerance of the Boston Puritans, who would later move on to New Rochelle in New York, where she was killed by Indians. Another prominent settler was William Coddington, a wealthy merchant. The first settlement was established in 1638 at the north end of the island, originally named Pocasset, but renamed Portsmouth in 1643. It is not clear why, but factionalism amongst the settlers led William Coddington and others to break away from Portsmouth in 1639 and move to the south end, founding a new settlement with the unimaginative but descriptive name of Newport.  By the 1660s a charter had been granted to the combined colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, and this has remained the name of the state, usually shortened to Rhode Island.

             In the battle of the “ports,” the new settlement had the clear advantage of a superior harbor and quickly became the largest town on the island, and the fifth largest town in the British colonies in the eighteenth century.  A census of 1708 lists Portsmouth’s population as 628, while the town of Newport had 2203 people.  By 1775, the population of Newport reached 6753 while Portsmouth lagged far behind with 1363 inhabitants. The population of Portsmouth did not surpass 2,000 people until after the Civil War and today numbers about 17,000 inhabitants.

*****

     

         Both Birket and Hamilton were favorably impressed by the landscape of Rhode Island. Birket thought the landscape to be very “Clean,” and he was struck by the industry of the farmers who built the ubiquitous stone walls found in this part of the country.(7) Hamilton sang the praises of the island on both his journey up to Boston and on his return trip a month later. On the way to Boston his “eyes were entertained with various beautifull (sic) prospects of the continent, islands, and water,” while his praise upon his return was even more effusive: “The island is the most delightful spot of ground I have seen in America. I can compare it to nothing but one entire garden. For rural scenes and pritty, frank girls, I found it the most agreeable place I had been in thro’ all my peregrinations.” (8)

     The light is different here on Aquidneck Island. I can’t explain it, but there is something unique about the landscape. It is amazing how apt the descriptions of travelers from two centuries ago remain.  Of course, one must take the two main bane’s of modern existence into account, namely traffic and real estate developments. It is truly astounding to be able to wholeheartedly agree with my fellow travelers: Yes, the island does seem like one big garden, yes, the stone walls are impressive, yes, my eyes are entertained with various beautiful prospects of the continent, islands, and water. As for pritty and frank girls, if by frank one means girls fresh from the beaches to the south wandering around the roadside farm stands wearing only the smallest of bikinis, then yes, I agree with that sentiment as well.

       The site of Bristol Ferry is closed to the public. Apparently it is the site of a defunct marina development, although I believe the land is actually public property, so I am unclear as to why there is a big fence preventing me from reaching the sea. I am tempted to jump the fence just as some municipal employees show up in a town of Portsmouth pickup truck.  Heading up the hill away from the ferry landing, I pass a typically incongruous site: an elegant eighteenth-century saltbox house surrounded by well-tended and beautifully landscaped gardens, enclosed by the aforementioned stone walls, immediately adjacent to a vast, new, nearly treeless housing development built on the site of an old nine-hole golf course.  This proves to be a theme repeated along the entire walk--a scene of delicate beauty framed by a monstrous shopping mall or one of a string of housing developments built on the land of an old farm. And the traffic is brutal. At one point I started counting passing vehicles, and I clocked well over sixty cars per minute on multiple occasions. Using sixty per minute as a base for calculating, if I estimate that I spent five hours on the road today, at least 18,000 vehicles passed within five yards of me! Given that there are essentially no sidewalks at all for over six miles of the walk in the middle of a hot summer afternoon and that I am forced to constantly clamber over grassy embankments or worse, overgrown weedy steep embankments, there were many times I wondered what the hell I was doing here.  A solution presented itself after some two miles of contemplation: I started jumping the stone walls and walking along the inside of the wall on the private property of various farms, housing developments, and educational and ecclesiastical institutions. Don’t tell anyone.

       Walking a mile down Bristol Ferry Road, I turn onto Turnpike Avenue and continue for another mile to East Main Road, the center of Portsmouth. Turnpike Avenue is another of the many straight and wide roads built during the Golden Age of Turnpike Fever, shortly after the end of the Revolutionary War. It too, like all its brethren, was an economic failure and eventually found its way into public hands. Portsmouth center has a certain charm, with various church buildings representing the multiple denominations that made their home in the most tolerant of colonies, and a variety of domestic architectural buildings spanning two centuries. The original settlement to the north is almost completely gone, the population having migrated here to the current East Main Road location. Four miles from Portsmouth center and I reach Middletown, the third of the three towns that comprise Aquidneck Island.  This town was formed from the hinterlands of the original Newport settlement in 1743, measuring 13 square miles compared to the eight square miles left behind as Newport. The descendants of the inventive geniuses who came up with the inspired name of Newport struck again with the name of the new town, precisely describing the situation of Middletown between Portsmouth and Newport. I guess they saved all their energy for slave trading. The walk in Middletown continues the theme of scenes of pastoral beauty followed by development and constantly accompanied by roaring traffic. I pass the neat rows of cabernet sauvignon grapes growing along the side of the road at Newport Vineyards. Many of the roads that head off of East Main Road go to beaches and wildlife refuges and I am sorely tempted to hitch a ride to one of them but I plug along until, after two miles, I reach the large commercial development known as the Middletown Plaza Shopping Center. Normally I would be deflated by the prospect of walking through two miles comprised of BJ’s, Marshalls, McDonald’s, and Howard Johnson’s, but today I am actually happy because it means SIDEWALKS!  Newport has zoning laws which prevent this sort of development. So Middletown is chock-a-block with malls and gas stations and motels and big box stores right up to the town line. It is actually pretty jarring to cross over Miantonomi Boulevard and leave all the ugly sprawl behind for the quiet treelined streets of Newport. Of course, the residents of Newport hop over the border to do all of their shopping and I too spend the night at a Rodeway Inn (actually very pleasant as strip motels go) ten yards from the Newport town line in Middletown.

        Ten miles from the Bristol Ferry I arrive at the junction of East Main Road and West Main Road, in present Middletown Rhode Island, a distance of two miles from Newport Center and an area known to some locals I spoke with as “Two Mile Corner.” After many miles without one, I am pleased to see, sitting placidly behind some hedges and flowers in the center of this three-way intersection, a milestone!  This 1825 stone, descriptions on both sides pointing the way, confirms that by the nineteenth century West Main was the road to Bristol and East Main was the road to what was once a ferry to Tiverton, but by 1825 had been replaced by a stone bridge. I march down what is now West Main Road again until I reach the border with Newport, where the road is rechristened Broadway, which I follow gently downhill for a mile until, as the sun sets, I make my way into Washington Square, site of the Colony House, built in 1741 as the seat of the Rhode Island colonial legislature, as well as alternating with Providence as the home of the State Legislature until the early twentieth century.

I have left my backpack at my hotel and cleaned myself up, and head into the White Horse Tavern for a well-deserved pint of Narragansett. I am done with Roads, Rodes, and Rhodes for today.