Church of the Redeemer Providence RI

Our 150th Anniversary

Preparing for Our Anniversary Year by Rediscovering Our Roots
CHANCEL DRAMA – "A LIVING HISTORY" - JUNE 22, 2008

A June, 2008 historical enactment in period costumes was based on a segment of the history written by Margaret Stillwell, long time member of the parish. While light-hearted, the skits were never-the-less factual, and provided a creative learning experience for all in attendance. ( Link to our history page for her full account.)

This story was shared with the congregation in 1969 and 1970 at the request of then rector, the Reverend Frederick G. Kirby. The vehicle for the telling of this experience was The Parish Record, in which one page was set aside from March 9, 1969 to February 22, 1970. In Father Kirby’s words, "We are grateful to Miss Margaret B. Stillwell for her fine article telling us of her impressions of the early days of The Church of the Redeemer."

"Miss Stillwell" & "The Rev. Kirby" discussing a photo of the original church building.

The parish that for fifty years or more flourished just beyond the northern tip of old Benefit Street was unique in that it had the flavor of a parish in an English countryside. It was founded something more than a century ago and the first Church of the Redeemer was erected about 1860 to meet the needs off two classes of people. Parishioners of St. John’s Church – as the Cathedral was then called – whose homes were located on Prospect Street high on the hill, or beyond it, had been advocating a parish of their own which would be more easily accessible than St. John’s at the base of the cliff. And a colony of newcomers that had settled in Providence on the hillside just beyond where Benefit Street met Olney Street. These were Church of England people who, driven out by labor difficulties at home, had recently emigrated like many others to the mill-towns of New England.

"Mr. Angell" & "The Rev. Wheeler, the First Rector" discussing the needs of the parish

Thus it came about that the first Church of the Redeemer was built on North Main Street somewhat north of Olney Street and, as it happened, opposite some of the buildings of the American Screw Company that were located on the down-slope of the hill. And thus it also came about that Mr. Edwin G. Angell, who was the President of the American Screw Company, became the benefactor of the church. These people whose homes clustered about the church were his people. Therefore their parish was his parish.

By tradition my knowledge of the parish goes back to its origin, because my father, Edward A. Stillwell, as the first organist of the church, knew its founders and was a close friend of its first Rector, the Reverend Charles Wheeler, and of its leading families. During his two terms of service, totaling nearly forty years, the growth of the parish was his greatest interest and concern.

It may seem odd that a child should know the leading figure in the parish personally but everyone knew everyone and stopped to chat pleasantly with one another, even with the children. Although both Mr. Angell and his bride had been exceptionally fond of children, to their sorrow they had none of their own. They had compensated for this by making succeeding age-groups of children welcome.

"Mr. & Mrs. Angell" with the children

"Miss Smith" tending the altar

On Sundays I was always busy and happy about going to church. On the rare occasions when my mother was not able to attend the eleven o’clock service, I was not deterred. I could go with Father, and this meant an early start. There would be no one at the church except Miss Ida B. Smith of the Altar Chapter darting about, in and out of here and there; and Mr. Irons, the janitor, one of the kindest and most dependable of men. I would find our pew, the third from the front facing the pulpit, and say a little prayer because I felt certain that God would hear the thoughts of even a very little girl in a very big church.

"Mr. Irons" dusting the pews

"Miss Stillwell" as a girl describing arriving parishioners

Then I would scramble up on to the seat to watch proceedings. Father would be busy arranging music on the organ rack and distributing on the choir seats the cards on which he had printed the numbers of the hymns and anthems to be sung during the service. The choir members would begin to assemble.

Choir members beginning to assemble

Dr Bassett would come down the south aisle and go into the robing room at the right of the chancel. His three sisters meanwhile would take their places in the first pew facing the pulpit – Mrs. Hummel, the eldest; Miss Helen, tall and stately, always beautifully dressed; and Miss Norah, rather vague and fluttery, who in spite of the fact that everyone always seemed to be trying to look out for her, managed to go her own way as independently as a humming-bird. By that time Mr. Mowry and his large family would be coming down the north aisle – "Lawyer Mowry" he was always called. Some of his young people would go off to the left to join the choir and the others would file into the pews facing the choir loft and organ.

"Dr. Bassett and his acolyte" preparing to make their entrance

"Dr. Bassett's 3 Sisters" in their pew under the pulpit

"Mr. Stedman" delivering his financial report

Behind them would be the Heathcotes and then Mr. Stedman, the Treasurer of the Church, with his wife and daughters. Turning toward the right, I could see, just beyond the center aisle, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, whose young people were in the choir; and then Mr. and Mrs. Briggs, their daughter Clara, and her future husband, Mr. Reese.

Directly behind them were the beautiful Lenz sisters, one of whom had on her hat a long, graceful plume, which Mother said was a bird of paradise. For in the pew behind these elegant ladies was little Mrs. Carder, the oldest member of the parish, who frequently dropped this and that and meanwhile munched peppermints, her constant diet.

"The Lenz sister" making their entrance

"Mr. Angell" coming down the center aisle

Far to the right on the south aisle I could see Louise Schuyler and her sister Hilda; the Macomb sisters with their two tall and thin brothers standing like poplar trees in a group of round and sturdy evergreens; the bald and scholarly-looking Mr. Droz; and Professor Upton of Brown University with his wife and two daughters not far from my own age. This survey completed the range of my vision, for my mother had taught me that I must never turn around. By moving ever so little to the left or right, however, and looking out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the church was full even back to the entrance doors. Then, while the opening voluntary was being played, Mr. Angell would come down the center aisle – tall and majestic in his frock coat, his tall silk hat in his left hand, the crook of his cane hanging over his wrist. Seeing me alone, he would pause, hold out his hand, and quietly usher me into his pew, directly in front of ours. I would not have thought of feeling lonely. There was too much to observe. Yet somehow when I moved forward to sit with him, there was a difference. I felt suddenly safe and secure.