pyat

"You came not as one curious, but as one seeking his due, nor have you failed ever in reverence toward the mild gods of earth. Yet have these gods kept you from the marvellous sunset city of your dreams, and wholly through their own small covetousness; for verily, they craved the weird loveliness of that which your fancy had fashioned, and vowed that henceforward no other spot should be their abode."
- The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath

The Stars, as they say, were finally right.

Last night,

nottheterritory (hereafter known by the mundane sobriquet of "Alex") and I returned from something of a whirlwind tour of Rhode Island in general, and Providence specifically. This trip was something I first conceived dimly in high school reading H.P. Lovecraft for the first time. The shape of the pilgrimage solidified in my first year of university, when I read Lyon Sprague de Camp's thorough (though hardly impartial) biography of Lovecraft.

Though the Lovecraftian angle interested me particularly, the journey was not one of mere literary significance. Providence intrigues me in and of itself, by virtue of being one of the oldest cities in North America, and furthermore compact enough to be easily encompassed in relatively short visit. Finally is has the quality of a "real" city, which is to say it is a living metropolis and not merely a tourist destination or collection of attractions.

I should note that

thebitterguy also hoped to come with Alex and I on the trip, but had to back down due to work obligations. His loss on the trip was regrettable! That said, Alex was an excellent travelling companion, and there was no point where our mutual impulses for the direction of the trip were out of step – no arguments about maps or stops or places to eat, etc., etc. More importantly we seem to share a certain aesthetic when it comes to self-directed tours of this kind, and always seemed happy to see the same things the other fellow wanted to see.

We left Hamilton late on a rainy Friday afternoon... (click on the images for larger versions!)

I served as driver...

This text was our Bible, at least insofar as the Lovecraft-related section of the trip.

Alex had the foresight to bring his laptop, and occasional pools of Wi-Fi made navigation (and contact with wives and loved ones back home) much easier. This is our hotel room in Attleboro, MA.

The hotel had an indefinable "Soviet-Era Housing Block" feel, though the rooms were nice enough.

We had a late breakfast of coffee, eggs, and sausage at the Capitol Hill Diner. This wasn't planned - we were sort of lost.

The Capitol Building.

We arrived at Swan Point Cemetery around noon. It was very beautiful. We quickly located Lovecraft's grave marker. This stone does not actually mark his burial spot - he's actually under a family monument a few feet away. The stone was purchased by fans in the 70s.

Me!

Alex, looking oddly happy to be in a giant boneyard!

One side of the family monument, with Alex in the background futzing with his cel phone.

People seemed compelled to leave small offerings at the tombstone. Alex left behind a Canadian penny.

The Haunted Police Car fit right in.

After visting the tomb, we went for a stroll through the cemetery grounds. Alex, who is a military history buff, was inspired by the vintage of the stones to tell me his favorite anecdote about the Civil War. Almost as soon as he'd begun, I noticed a monument to one Major Sullivan Ballou a few metres off our path, and pointed it out to Alex.

"That fellow seems to have died in the Civil War," I said.

Alex, incredibly, recognized the name on the tomb. As he noted in his journal:

"Those of you who know Ken Burn's Civil War documentary well will now have little shivers running up and down your spine - for the rest of you who never shared that particular deep geekiness, Sullivan Ballou is essentially no-one. He is, as far as I know, almost completely unimportant in history, except for one thing:"

That one thing being a particularly poignant and eloquent home to his young wife, Sarah. Alex quotes a few lines from the letter, and later directed me to full reading of it from a Civil War documentary. The letter starts at 2:27 in this video link:

Sullivan Ballou's monument.

The graves of Sullivan and his wife, Sarah.

Alex left a penny (with the image of Lincoln) on the grave.

After leaving the cemetery we headed into downtown Providence with two specific destinations - the Westminster Arcade and the "Shunned House."

I'll write about those later...