From the Vineyard Gazette edition of April 5, 1929:

As many of the interesting Vineyarders are persons of considerable age and wide experience it naturally follows that they are survivors of the age of sailing ships and horse-drawn vehicles. Interesting and even marvelous as the tales of steam and gasoline are today, there is even more excitement and thrill in the tales of those days when men rode upon the wings of the gale or upon living, breathing creatures.

Not all men of the older Vineyarders were sailors or horsemen, however. Not all were farmers, even though they were landsmen. It is said of an army that it takes twenty men in the shops, fields and so on to keep one soldier on the battle front, and so it is in peace time occupation. It takes many men to keep one afloat, or equipped to pursue his occupation as farmer or builder.

As an industry wanes those who occupy the rear supporting positions feel the decline first and accordingly disappear the soonest. In the case of the whaleships the outfitters and ship chandlers probably diminished in number before the ships did, and among the various lines of business ashore that flourished in older days, those who supplied the equipment and raw materials faded out of the picture one by one as demand for their services became less and less, until at the present time certain lines of business and the trades connected with them have disappeared entirely and only now and then are mentioned by some elderly person who is able to recall them and the men who were employed.

The hardest thing to banish from the scheme of things are the horses. True, the pleasure carriage is seldom seen, only three or four being in use on the Island today. But on the farms, and in places where draught animals are required, the tractor has not yet gained supremacy over the horse. There are still a number owned and employed daily, but that number is so small that no young man would consider learning the trade of horse-shoer or carriage-wright, and the last of the Island harness-makers closed the door of his shop last fall after more than half a century of business. This man is Franklin G. Downs, known to the entire Island as a harness-maker, having been the only one in business for many years. So modest and reticent is Mr. Downs that although he has often been urged to talk for publication he has steadfastly refused, always with the declaration that no one could possibly be interested in his commonplace career.

But as the last harness-maker in the county he stands unique. And when to that is added the fact that his knowledge of old Island people and incidents of the past is surpassed by scarcely anyone, it may easily be seen that he is entitled to a leading place among interesting Vineyarders.

Mr. Downs was born in that part of the town of Tisbury which is now known as North Tisbury, and his boyhood was spent there. In the days of his youth there were many more people living all through that section, especially along the North Shores and all through the present wild country that lies between the State and the North Roads and the Sound. Christiantown was a village of no mean proportions. Davistown was at least a settlement, and from Chappaquansett to Menemsha Creek the northern slope of the range of hills was dotted with farms, each occupied by a large family.

Deep in the woods to the west of the Indian Hill Road, almost impossible of access, are the tumbling, brush-covered foundation stones that mark the site of the old Wood schoolhouse where Mr. Downs attended school as a small boy. Near this spot is Devil Rock. In this rock are the imprints made, according to tradition, by his Satanic majesty who once stopped there to rest and view the scenery. And around this rock Mr. Downs and his boyish companions played.

Mr. Downs was a young man when he learned the harness-making trade, and he was still young when he opened his shop in North Tisbury. It was in that village that he reared his family, and his shop was the gathering place of farmers and others of the locality for, roughly, thirty years.

The oldtime skill has not departed with the arrival of advanced age. Mr. Downs today can stand at his bench and with his broad knife and edging tool turn out an article as perfect as that made by machinery. And though the hands that fashioned back-straps may indeed be slower now, the sureness of touch and the estimating eye still remain.

Almost any pleasant day will see Mr. Downs upon the street, a short sturdy figure, whose face resembles that of General Grant. Vigorously he walks along, without depending upon the cane he carries, always keenly alive to activities about him, and sensing the humor of life. There is no shop nor other place where the old cronies gather in large groups, but whenever two or three of them meet the pages of ancient history are opened and in Mr. Downs’ tales are once more revealed those forgotten chapters of Vineyard history that no one else recalls.

Compiled by Hilary Wall
library@mvgazette.com