Grayden Paul’s ‘Museum’ once was a Beaufort, N.C., landmark

In the 1940s, Grayden Paul of Beaufort, N.C., began earning the reputation as the town’s “highly visible, all-around ambassador and ‘raconteur,’” wrote Ruth Barbour, editor of the Carteret County News-Times.

A raconteur is “a person who is skilled in relating stories and anecdotes interestingly.”

Ruth Barbour was one smart lady, asserted historian Rodney Kemp of Morehead City (shown below). “But both the word and the definition are ‘too hard’ for regular people in Carteret County to say and remember.”

 

“Grayden Paul was a heck of a storyteller; the best I ever heard,” Kemp said. “Grayden had amazing stories as well as a regular routine that he would perform with his wife, Mary Clark, who went by ‘M.C.’ He would tell tall tales and sing his songs while she accompanied him on the piano.”

Grayden Paul’s “official occupation,” as listed on the 1940 census document, was “marine mechanic.” He operated a “marine shop” in Beaufort, providing “repairs and sales.”

Beginning in 1952, Grayden Paul began dressing in outlandish costumes to conduct guided tours around town. The tourists lapped it up.

 

He was a natural showman and promoter. One of the “attractions” was Grayden Paul’s own “Museum of the Sea.” He had salvaged the Alphonso, a 55-foot schooner-rigged sharpie and beached it along the Taylors Creek waterfront at the end of Pollock Street in Beaufort.

 

The vessel was built in 1911 in the Down East Carteret County community of Williston by Zephaniah “Zeff” Willis for Capt. Theodoshia “Dosh” Davis of Davis.

Grayden Paul filled it with a bunch of marine artifacts, seashells, whale bones and other specimens that people could walk around and view, while being entertained by a bird-like mascot named “Grayden Gull.”

The Alphonso continued as a waterfront attraction until 1978 when it “was considered unsafe for public use.”

At that time, the artifacts were removed and preserved for the North Carolina Maritime Museum in Beaufort. What remained of the Alphonso was torched by Beaufort firemen during a training exercise. The spot was later named “Grayden Paul Park.”

 

Grayden and M.C. wrote a book in 1975 about their memories of Beaufort and Down East. Growing up in the Davis Shore community, Grayden Paul recalled the arrival of Capt. Frisby, “a seafaring man who plied the coast from Boston to Charleston, S.C.

Occasionally, Capt. Frisby stopped at Davis Shore to pick up cargo. One day he met a local woman “and they fell in love at first sight.” He proposed. She said she had lost her father and two brothers at sea. Only if he gave up the captain’s life would she marry him.

The woman told him to “get a breeding sow, some chickens and a milk cow.” They would settle in her old homeplace and raise their own food. He was in love. He sold his boat, and they were married.

The woman showed Mr. Frisby (as she called him now) how to milk the cow, which had a calf and was producing plenty of milk. Until the calf had weaned and the milk began to dry up.

Perplexed, Mr. Frisby tied a rope around the cow behind its forelegs and threw the other end of the rope over a rafter in the barn. He tugged and soon had the cow “standing on her hind feet, with her front feet dangling in the air.”

Some neighbors saw what was going on, blurting out: “Are you trying to hang the cow?”

“Why no,” Mr. Frisby said, “I am just trying to make the milk run aft.”

Storyteller Grayden Paul teetered from fact to fiction

Beaufort’s legendary storyteller Grayden Paul, who lived from 1899 to 1994, enjoyed telling tales of romance, and one of his favorites was about identical twins Faith and Charity Langdon, who he placed as living in Beaufort in 1823.

One never knew for sure just where Grayden Paul’s tales veered from fact to fiction. Certainly, Langdon is a surname that goes deep into Beaufort history.  

The father of Faith and Charity was a wealthy merchant who frequently entertained sea captains from whom he bought various goods. One day, while hosting a handsome young captain, he introduced his daughters, the extroverted Faith and the shy Charity.

The captain was attracted to Charity and declared his love for her. But it came time for him to leave. In his letters, he expressed his adoration and proposed marriage. But lo, he confused their names, addressing his love letters to Faith.

Faith accepted his proposal of marriage, and the whole town was giddy, anticipating a grand wedding – except for Charity, whose heart ached.

Upon arrival for the nuptials in Beaufort, the captain realized that “something has gone wrong.” Mr. Langdon dismissed the captain’s concerns, stating: “My son, just have Faith.” He replied: “I don’t want Faith – I want Charity.”

Grayden Paul said: “Since Charity had never revealed her secret love for the captain, the father insisted the captain marry Faith”…to save face.

“But poor Charity. She retired into seclusion, never again leaving her home. Beaufort people said they never saw her on the streets again.”

“It was also said that she died about a year later of a broken heart, but actually it was tuberculosis that took her life,” Grayden Paul said.

 

Located nearby in Beaufort was the house of Dr. James Manney, a local physician. In the mid-1830s, his daughter Nancy Manney fell in love with her young schoolteacher, Charles French, a native New Englander.

He, too, would leave Beaufort – but to complete law studies. But he vowed to return and make Nancy his wife. Meanwhile, Dr. Manney’s wife had died. He relied on Nancy to help raise her seven younger siblings. Having a newly minted husband around would only complicate matters, so Dr. Manney devised a plan to thwart development of a relationship.

Grayden Paul wrote: “Dr. Manney, in his anger…and frustration, contacted the postmaster (William Coale Bell) and bargained with him that the letters written by Charles French and Nancy should not reach their destinations.”

All the love letters were intercepted and collected in a sealed bin at the Beaufort post office. Nancy held out hope that one day her beloved Charles French would come for her. “She would marry no one else,” Grayden Paul wrote.

Charles, on the other hand, believed the lovely Nancy had lost interest in him and had moved on to someone else.

The undelivered letters were eventually revealed to Nancy upon Bell’s death in 1850, but French had moved to California and parts unknown. What caused him to seek to reestablish contact with Nancy Manney in 1885 was a love that hadn’t died. They were reunited.

The wedding parlor in Beaufort was filled with red roses. Nancy (now about age 65) was weak and frail, overcome by tuberculosis. “Her tiny frail body was wracked with coughing,” Grayden Paul said. “Charles knelt by Nancy’s couch, took her in his arms and they were married” on April 29, 1886.

“Nancy died a few days after this, declaring her love for Charles and asking that no bitterness remain. These two had passed through those ‘unknown seas’ as last – to reach harbor together.”