As they expected to make their stay upon the island but short, and
wished to see every interesting spot, all were up and about early the
next morning.
Naturally the history of the State, and particularly of the island
upon which they were, was the principal topic of conversation at the
breakfast table. Walter began it.
"If my memory serves me right, it was somewhere about here that General
Nathaniel Greene had his quarters in 1778."
"Yes," replied Captain Raymond, "on a farm owned by Colonel Richard K.
Randolph."
"Why, I thought Greene's fighting was done in other parts of the
country!" said Rosie.
"Most of it was," replied the captain, "but being a Rhode Island man he
desired to take a part in the attack on the British, who had possession
of Newport at that time. But I think you all know the story--the
failure of the French troops to take the part expected of them, and to
do the damage to the British vessels coming in from New York which they
essayed to do; then the great storm which damaged the vessels, both of
the French and English; and, soon after, the sailing of the French for
Boston, leaving the Americans to meet the British alone.
"Then the battle was fought on Quaker Hill, after which, though not
defeated, the Americans, hearing of the approach of Howe with large
reinforcements for the British, retreated from the island to the
mainland, in good order and without the loss of a man."
"Did the British go away too, papa?" asked Elsie.
"Not till the fall of the next year," he replied. "They had done a vast
amount of mischief, and desolated the island; they had cut down the
groves of forest trees and many of the orchards, for fuel and military
purposes; they had torn up the meadows, destroyed gardens and ruined
farms. So hard had they made life upon the island that many, it is said
more than half the people, had left the island; wharves were deserted,
commerce was destroyed, and trade abandoned. In December of 1778, the
last winter that they were there, there was a fearful storm--a heavy
fall of snow and cold so intense that many of the Hessians perished,
frozen to death. Accounts say that more than fifty people, mostly
soldiers, lost their lives on that fearful night, and it was long
known as the Hessian storm. The poor fellows suffered very much that
winter, for, after a little, rations were cut down to one-half of
bread, made of rice and oatmeal mixed, the other half of rice. And
fuel was so scarce that they must have suffered much from the cold; to
supply it old houses were destroyed, old wharves torn to pieces. Old
empty houses were used as barracks, and troops were quartered upon the
people still living in others. The State-house was used as a hospital
and some of the churches were turned into riding-schools.
"General Prescott had his quarters in the Bannister House, and it is
said that his spacious sidewalk in front was made of stepstones taken
from private houses, and the whole of the south flight of steps from
those belonging to the State-house."
"I don't see in what respect he was any better than a thief and a
robber!" cried Lucilla indignantly.
"No, nor do I," said her father; "but we must remember that some of the
British officers were a very different kind of men and would not have
at all approved of his doings. Prescott, as we all know, was a great
coward, and cowardice and cruelty are apt to go together."
"Our Washington was very, very brave and never at all cruel," remarked
little Elsie. "Papa, was he ever here?"
"He was in Newport more than once. His last visit was paid while he
was President of these United States in August, 1790. He was escorted
to the Brenton House, the principal hotel of the place; a dinner was
given him in the representative chamber of the State-house, at which
thirteen regular toasts were drunk, Washington giving one--'The town
of Newport.' He left before the rest of the company, and then Judge
Marchant gave the toast, 'The man we love.'"
"Oh, I like that!" said the little girl, her eyes sparkling. "I think
everybody must love Washington--everybody but the British."
"And even some of the British have admired him very much," said her
father, smiling at her enthusiasm.
"And given him high praise," added Walter. "I for one am proud of being
his countryman."
All had now finished their breakfast, and leaving the table they
repaired to the adjoining cottage, exchanged greetings with its
occupants, then together they held their morning service, after which
they arranged their plans for the day.
"As this is Saturday and I leave for Princeton on Tuesday next, I have
only to-day and Monday for looking about and seeing places of interest
in this neighborhood," remarked Walter.
"How and where do you want to go?" asked Mr. Embury.
"Down to the beaches, to all the places connected with the doings of
Bishop Berkeley and the Revolution, all about Paradise Valley, and--to
look at Purgatory; but not to get into it," replied the lad, concluding
with a slight laugh.
"Do you want company or prefer to go alone?" was the next query, to
which Walter replied, "I can go alone, I suppose, but I should prefer
good company if it is to be had."
"Would mine answer that description?"
"Yes, indeed, sir! but, I daresay, you have seen all the places already
and perhaps might be only bored by being asked to repeat your visit."
"Quite a mistake, my young friend; they are worth looking at time and
again."
"I should think so," remarked the captain. "Suppose we make up a party
of such of our members as would enjoy a pretty long stroll, go down
through this valley to the beach yonder, visit Purgatory Rocks and as
many other of the places of interest as we may feel inclined to see
to-day and have time and strength to visit."
"I approve of your plan," said Molly. "I was thinking it would
be best to defer our intended visit to that dear old lady in the
Revolutionary house till Monday, as Saturday is apt to be a busy one
with housekeepers."
"Yes," said Mrs. Dinsmore, "I think it will be quite enough to venture
an intrusion upon her at the most convenient time for her that we can
select."
"A real favor for her to permit it at any time," added Grandma Elsie.
They were gathered on the porch. Captain Raymond now rose and looking
down toward the water said, "Ah, yonder is the _Dolphin_; according to
my order of yesterday she has been brought here to afford a sail along
the coast of the island to any who may desire it."
"Oh, how good and kind in you, captain!" exclaimed Mrs. Keith. "I for
one should be delighted to go."
"All can sail who wish," said the captain. "The _Dolphin_ has day
accommodations for even a larger company than this, and of course we
shall return long before night."
As he concluded, he looked at Mrs. Dinsmore as if expecting her to
speak first, and as she was the eldest lady in the company she did so,
saying: "I for one have been so long on the water that I feel a strong
inclination to stroll down to the beach; though I have no doubt that
the sail will be very enjoyable."
"How would it do to take the stroll to the nearest point to where the
yacht is lying, and then continue your walk, or go aboard the vessel,
as you feel inclined?" asked the captain.
"Oh, nicely! I think," she returned; "especially if some of the others
would like to join me in so doing."
"I should," "And I," "And I," cried several voices, one of them being
Grandma Elsie's, and another Violet's; while at the same time nearly
every one of the children was asking permission to go along.
"Yes, yes! let them all go," said the captain.
"A walk to the beach down yonder will not be too long for any one of
them, I think, and when we get there each one of our party can decide
whether to continue the stroll or board the yacht."