Curious...

I love the serendipity that working with books provides. This last week I was cataloguing a bunch of books when this fell on my desk: it’s the Rev. Jedidiah Morse’s The American Geography, published in London and dated 1792, with the intriguing subtitle A View of the Present Situation of the United States of America, as if this was something that needed to be monitored, possibly with the intention of being able to say “I told you so” at some later stage. Simply put, it is a ready-reckoner of all the American states at that time, their physical characteristics, quirks, notable features, governmental structures and various other claims to fame. Me being me, I of course turned to “Rhode Island” in the chapter listing and was intrigued to note that the few pages devoted to this state contained the heading “Curiofities” and that very few other states had deserved such attention. So obviously, I turned straight to the section in question.

There, I found this:

“About four miles north-eaft of Providence lies a fmall village, called Pawtucket, a place of fome trade and famous for lamprey eels. Through this village runs Pawtucket river, which empties into Providence river, two miles eaft of the town. In this river is a beautiful fall of water, directly over which a bridge has been built, which divides the Commonwealth of Maffachufetts from the ftate of Rhode ifland. The fall, in its whole length, is upwards of fifty feet. The water paffes through feveral chafms in a rock which runs diametrically acrofs the bed of the ftream, and ferves as a dam to the water. Several mills have been erected upon thefe falls; and the fpouts and channels which have been conftructed to conduct the ftreams to their refpective wheels, and the bridge, have taken very much away from the beauty and grandeur of the fcene; which would otherwife have been indefcribably charming and romantic.”

Possibly the most curious aspect of this observation is why he mentioned it at all, given that all he can do is whinge about how much Industry has ruined the landscape, but it did set bells ringing in my head so I poked around until I found this:

“The sound of waterfalls became more and more distinct, and presently I saw a fairly deep river-gorge ahead, spanned by a wide, iron-railed highway bridge beyond which a large square opened out. As we clanked over the bridge I looked out on both sides and observed some factory buildings on the edge of the grassy bluff or part way down. The water far below was very abundant, and I could see two vigorous sets of falls upstream on my right and at least one downstream on my left. From this point the noise was quite deafening.”

Of course, this is H.P. Lovecraft – writing in the guise of the unfortunate Robert Olmstead, narrator of “The Shadow Over Innsmouth” – describing the first encounter with the Manuxet River falls and the bridge which crosses them. Leslie S. Klinger in my New Annotated H.P. Lovecraft (Liveright Publishing Corporation, 2014) tells me that “Innsmouth” is the nom-de-plume of the coastal Massachusetts town of Manchester-by-the-Sea and that the closest rivers are the Merrimack, the Ipswich and the Rowley, none of which could easily be identified as the prototype of the fictitious Manuxet.

I think however, that Rev. Morse has unearthed the answer: isn’t it likely that HPL would simply have transplanted the Pawtucket River from Rhode Island into Innsmouth to decorate his fishy community? “Manuxet” and "Pawtucket" have very similar-sounding names and the falls – dramatic enough to be a feature of HPL’s fiction – are certainly dramatic enough to be listed by Morse among the local “Curiofities” of Rhode Island. And both writers note that the local industries have marred the natural beauty of the scene.

So, mystery solved, if indeed it ever was a mystery. As I said, working with books is a joy anyway, but these little discoveries on the side really make it something extra special!