Transcription — “The Samuel Cranston Story” (Josephine P. Cranston, copied; received Nov 25, 1879 / dated Jan 5, 1896)
(The Samuel Cranston story)
In connection with Newport & piracy, the “History of Rhode Island” records a touching story which, as the author says, seems more like fiction than fact. We give the domestic tale which will make a much more charming and attractive theme than “Enoch Arden” — in the words of the historian:
Samuel Cranston, a gentleman of noble descent, and who had highly distinguished himself as a merchant in Newport, on the breaking out of the French war of 1755, being of an active temperament of mind, was induced to start on a voyage to Jamaica, not, however, anticipating the scenes and events which he was destined to endure in the prosecution of his voyage.
When off the keyes [keys] of Florida they were attacked by a piratical vessel. They defended themselves to the utmost, satisfied that should they fall into their hands they would meet with no mercy; but all their efforts were in vain, and they were forced to surrender to the enemy. Such was the savage cruelty of these buccaneers that no prayers or expostulations had any effect on their hard and obdurate hearts. The passengers and crew were all inhumanly butchered, except Mr. Cranston, who was spared in order to labor on board the vessel as a common menial. To a mind like his it must have been deeply hu[miliating?] […] [page edge cut off] elevated position in society, and compelled to herd with brutes in human form. In this condition he was doomed to labor for seven years. The thoughts of home would rest on his mind, producing pai[n] and disquietude, and anxiously looking forward to the time, when he should once more participate in the enjoyme[nt] of the domestic circle. He watched every moment from the time of his captivity for an opportunity to effect his escape; the propitious hour seemed to have arrived and he availed himself of it. Having secured a boat and secreted some pr[o]visions, he committed himself to the wind[s] and waves, trusting in Divine Providence for protection. After being tossed about for many days he was so fortunate as to fall in with an English ship bound from Jamaca [Jamaica] to Halifax, who kindly took him on board and treated him with ma[r]ked attention. On his arrival at Halifax a passage was given him to Boston, and on his arrival there he was startled at the rumor that his wife was on the eve of getting married to a Mr. Russel of Boston. This was an additional stroke [shock?] and rendered his mind a prey to the most gloomey [gloomy] thoughts. Poor and penniless he started on foot for Newport, there to await the issue. On his arrival there he entered the back door of his former re[s]idence in the character of a mendicant, and craved food from the servants, which was readily granted. After appeasing the cravings of hunger he asked if Mrs. Cranston was the mistress of the house. On being answered in the affirmative, he stated that he had a message which he desired to communicate to her. On being informed that it would be entirely out of her power to comply with his wishes, as she was then making preperations [preparations] for her nuptial celebration, which was to take place that evening, the heart of Cranston was seized with the most painful emotions, that his lovely, adored wife was about to espouse another. He requested the servant to tell her mistress that he had seen her husband that day at 12 O’clock crossing Howland’s Ferry. Such intelligence, so unaccountable yet so highly interesting, brought Mrs. Cranston from her toilet to look on the bearer of such intelligence. He briefly rehearsed over the sufferings which her husband had endured, which she listened to with the deepest interest. He wished to know of Mrs. Cranston whether she had ever seen him before. Dressed in sailor’s garb, with a tarpaulin hat drawn partially over his eyes, she replied in the negative. Finding himself a stranger in his own mansion, he at last raised his hat and gave her a significant look, at the same time pointing to a scar on his forehead, and exclaimed: “Did you ever, Mrs. Cranston, see that mark before?” She at once threw herself on his bosom, and exclaimed, in transports of joy, “You are my own own dear long lost husband.”
It required, as you may well imagine, some little time for the paroxysm to subside, and for Mr. Cranston to dress himself in a manner becoming his rank and station, before entering the drawing room where the elegant group had assembled to witness the ceremony.
Mr. Russel and the officiating clergyman were already present, and nothing was wanting but the appearance of the bride. Soon, however, she entered, gracefully leaning on the arm of Mr. Cranston, whom she introduced as her long absent husband. The scene was worthy the chisel of an artist, and produced delight in the minds of the guests. Mr. Russel, with true magnanimity, insisted that the marriage ceremony should be repeated, he giving the bride to her former husband, and endowing her with the amount which he intended to settle on her as his wife.
— Manhattan Monthly for June.
Copied by William Henry Robinson, husband of Polly Estelle Cranston, of Yates City, Knox Co. Illinois. } Both are now deceased. Received Nov. 25th, 1879. } Jan. 5th, 1896.
Josephine P. Cranston, Woodstock, Ohio.
How it fits
This is a copied literary tale, not a primary family record — and that matters. The text is the romantic “long-lost husband returns” story (Josephine herself flags the parallel to Tennyson’s Enoch Arden), attributed to a “History of Rhode Island” and reprinted in the Manhattan Monthly for June. Josephine copied it into the family papers. So its evidentiary weight is as a piece the family treasured and circulated, not as documentation of events.
Caution on the “Samuel Cranston” identification. The tale’s hero is a Newport merchant set sail in “the French war of 1755” — i.e., the 1750s–60s. That cannot be Governor Samuel Cranston of the archive’s descent line (b. 1659, d. in office 1727, Doc M / Doc AC): the governor was dead nearly thirty years before 1755. So either the magazine attached the Cranston name to a later/different Samuel, or it’s a folk-tale grafted onto the famous Newport family name. Candidly, this reads as the latter — a circulating sentimental story claimed by the family, not a documented ancestor’s biography. I’d file it as such and not let it touch the descent chart.
New people and a genuinely valuable new link:
- William Henry Robinson — the original copyist, “husband of Polly Estelle Cranston, of Yates City, Knox Co., Illinois.” Both deceased by the time Josephine made her copy.
- Polly Estelle Cranston — a Cranston relative in Yates City, Knox Co., Illinois. This is significant: it’s a concrete Illinois Cranston connection, and it dovetails with two existing threads — the “aunt Josephine from Illinois” of Doc E (1843), and the Knox Co., Illinois locale. Note your index row 4 (Image 4) of the reconciliation work flagged a Knox-County tie; and the broader Parke/Cranston “Doll[y]/Polly Estelle” figure may connect to the Yates City group. Worth tracking as the archive’s first Illinois-Cranston anchor with names attached.
- “Mr. Russel” of Boston and Howland’s Ferry (the real Newport-area crossing, Aquidneck Island) are tale-internal.
Dating. Two dates appear at the foot: the source was “Received Nov. 25th, 1879” (by Robinson, presumably) and Josephine made her copy “Jan. 5th, 1896.” So the index’s “~1898” dating is slightly off — 1896 is the date in Josephine’s own hand. I’d record it as 1896.
Provenance chain: Manhattan Monthly (printed) → copied by William Henry Robinson (Illinois, rec’d 1879) → copied again by Josephine P. Cranston (Woodstock, Ohio, Jan 5 1896). A double-copied item.
A few uncertain readings to flag for possible re-scan:
- The cut-off top line of Page 1 (above “The Samuel Cranston story”) — likely a running title like “…the early history of Rhode Island,” but it’s clipped at the top margin.
- The bottom line of Page 1 trails into the gutter/edge (“deeply hu—”) and resumes cleanly on Page 2; transcribed across the break.
- “shock”/”stroke” on Page 2 — the struck/overwritten word is ambiguous.
