room below as that of the General. Making sure | inces still loyal to the Crown. In July, 1778, of the host, they returned into the entry, where Barton ordered them to fire the house at the four corners, as he meant to have the General alive or dead. But at this moment, aroused by the noise, Prescott called to know what was the matter. The soldiers ran down stairs and entered his room, where Barton saw a man sitting on the side of the bed. the French fleet of Count d'Estaing arrived, and anchored near Brenton's Reef, off the southern point of the island. One of the ships followed the course of Admiral Parker's fleet, sailed up the West Passage, and anchored at the north point of Conanicut. A few days afterward it pursued three English frigates, which were seeking the protection of their battery upon Tamma "Are you General Prescott?" demanded Bar- ny Hill, and ran them ashore upon the western ton. "I am, sir," replied the officer. "You are my prisoner," returned Barton. "I acknowledge it, sir," said the General. Major Barton then told him that he must go with them, and to his request that he might be allowed to dress himself, replied that he was very sorry that his business required great dispatch, and the General was obliged to hurry off as he was. Prescott's aid, Major Barrington, had leaped out of a window at the beginning of the fray, and landed safely in the midst of the guard of reserve. Of the three prisoners, only the sentinel had his shoes on; and as the party | hurried across a field of rye-stubble tangled with blackberry bushes, the General's feet and legs, as also those of Major Barrington, were sorely scratched. But the party was led along to the shore as directly and rapidly as possible, and reached their boats safely. Barton placed the prisoners in his boat, and wrapping his cloak around the shivering General, he ordered the little fleet to put off. The alarm was given from the shore by guns and rockets, but the boats darted silently and swiftly out of danger. General Prescott asked if Barton commanded, and said to him: You have made a bold push to-night," and expressed the hope that he should not be hurt. Not while you are in my care," said Barton. The bay was all in wild confusion with the spreading alarm; but straight under the sterns and bows of the English ships, in that darkest hour preceding dawn, the prisoner was safely rowed, and morning broke upon the expedition arriving under the guns of its own batteries. General Prescott was afterward exchanged for General Lee. coast of Rhode Island, five or six miles from Newport. Their masts were cut away, and the crews fired the vessels as they took to the boats and pulled for shore. A few days afterward the whole fleet entered the harbor. As it approached, the British began to burn the houses beyond a line of two miles from Newport, and sent out parties by night, who destroyed all kinds of carriages and implements, grindstones, scythes, axes, and filled up the wells. The same night the British withdrew from the north end of the island, and posted themselves upon the heights, two miles from the town, their line extending from Coddington's Cove to Easton's Beach. On the following morning, the American army often or fifteen thousand men, under Generals Sullivan, Greene, Glover, and Lafayette, crossed from the main-land at Tiverton, and occupied the north part of the island. During that day, a British fleet of twentyfive sail, under Lord Howe, was seen standing in for Newport. They lay to off Point Judith for the night, and the next morning, Count d'Estaing, alarmed, ran out to sea with his whole squadron. A fearful gale, that raged during the 12th and 13th of July, seriously damaged the two fleets, and there was no battle. Lafayette vainly endeavored to persuade D'Estaing to return and cooperate with the army. The French officers unanimously protested against entering the harbor in their disabled condition, and the army was left unsupported. Within twenty-four hours of the departure of the fleet, more than two thousand volunteers left the army, with many of the militia whose terms of service had expired, and about midnight of the 28th July, the American army began to retire toward the north end of the island. Count d'Estaing offered to march his troops from Boston, if required. But at daylight the British discovered the retreat of the Americans, and marched in pursuit. A scattering fight was maintained for two days, of which the severest skirmish was at Butt's Hill. On the 30th, the Americans made a feint of strength line of fires across the island, and, during the night, the whole army safely escaped to the mainland. The Revolution and the residence of the British army upon the island ruined Newport. During the investment nine hundred buildings were destroyed. The churches, excepting Trinity, were changed into barracks and riding-schools; the Court-house was occupied as a hospital; the Redwood Library was rifled of its gayest books-ening their position; at sundown they built a poetry, voyages, and travels, were taken by the officers, and little else than folios, too heavy to remove either by head or hand, were left behind. General Prescott is reported to have sent a guard It was during this retreat that General Greene thither, and carefully to have locked the door repulsed an attack of the enemy with a force of when the horse was stolen. The trees of every less than half their number. This was the first kind in all parts of the island were cut down. time that this most distinguished man, the intiBusiness was, of course, entirely suspended. The mate friend and confidant of Washington, the inhabitants who sympathized with the British generous, noble, and successful hero-who would were compelled to guard a strict reserve for fear undoubtedly have been summoned to succeed of the vengeance of their fellow-citizens, and all Washington, had any adverse chance deprived the who dared, or who were able, escaped to prov-country of his service-took part in the military roes of historical achievements than of feats of fabulous luxury and license, crossing the sea in pursuit of glory or fortune, found the "savage Americans" of Berkeley to be as beautiful and fascinating as the ladies of France, with a charm de those courtiers could, perhaps, better appreciate than men of a different education and career. It is remarkable that the aid which was furnished to America, struggling to be free, and whose struggle was to result in the recognition and organization of the democratic principle, proceeded from the haughtiest aristocracy of Europe, and at a moment when it was beginning to feel the throes of that revolution which should shatter its pride forever. The American success, encouraged by French sympathy and French assistance, was one of the strongest influences in the destruction of the old French règime. The prestige of a success which France had fostered, re| acted terribly upon France itself. movements of the Revolution within his own State. The fame, indeed, of so illustrious a character, and a fame acquired in the service of all the States, can not be claimed by one. But Rhode Island, the smallest State of the confederacy, which gave the greatest hero to the sec-rived from purity of character and manner which ond war with England, may well reflect with pride that he who was only second to Washington, in the first and great war, was her son. Nathaniel Greene was born in Warwick, upon the western shore of Narragansett Bay, in the year 1742. His father was a Quaker, but the boy was early smitten with the love of arms, and at the first call of the country, appeared in Boston, and, on the 6th of June, 1775, assumed the command, which he held until Washington soon after arrived. He served with eminent ability, and a prudence which in the circumstances was the best heroism, all through the war; and, in October, 1779, he was appointed by Washington to succeed General Gates in the chief direction of the Southern army. Here his uncontrolled genius secured him the most brilliant part of his career; and at the close of the war he returned to Rhode Island, loved by Washington, honored by the country, and extolled by history. In 1785, Georgia, mindful of his services and merits, made him valuable grants of land, and he went to the South with his family to occupy them. But on the 19th of June, 1786, being only forty-four years old, he died of the effects of a sun-stroke. It is understood that his grandson, who has added the laurels of literature, to those of military glory, which already adorn his family name, is engaged in preparing for publication the papers and a biography of his illustrious relative. The elegant scholarship and classical care evinced in the best edition of Addison yet published, are the assurances of the manner in which a work so truly national will be completed. The day after the retreat of the Americans from Rhode Island, Sir Henry Clinton arrived from New York with a British reinforcement of four thousand men, which would probably have rendered the retreat impracticable. The British forces landed upon Rhode Island in November, 1776, and remained until the autumn of 1779, when they were withdrawn to strengthen the army in New York. They embarked from the neck at the south part of the island, and orders were issued that the inhabitants upon Thames Street, through which the retiring army marched, should remain within doors upon the day of evacuation, under pain of death. The British investment was immediately succeeded by the brief and brilliant episode of the French occupation. Yet the many and glowing accounts that have reached us of those days, serve only to assure us that their gayety was but the final feast of an expiring prosperity. The fine old society of Newport had for historians the most accomplished gentlemen and officers of France, and of France at the culmination of the old règime. The courtiers who ornamented Versailles and Marly, and who are no less the he The Frenchmen of talent and capacity at that period, weary of intrigue, or worsted by it, threw themselves into any career that promised distraction and excitement. To these exhausted votaries of an effete civilization the wilds of America were fascinating. To turn from the easy smiles of a rouged marquise, and win a glance from the modest eye of maiden purity, was a prospect only too alluring to satiety. It thus happens that men famous in the European Chronique Scandaleuse for the audacity of their lives, are the laureates of the simplicity and beauty of the women of our best colonial society. They crossed the sea in troops, and they who came to scoff remained to pray. They saw Newport, then the social capital of the country, and they all pay homage to the dignity, beauty, and intelligence of its society. In the French memoirs of that period the reader is at once struck by the altered tone of the authors when they speak of America and of American women, after the gay record of licentious lives at home. It was on the 10th of July, 1780, that the French fleet, seven ships of the line and five frigates, with a large number of transports, and an army of six thousand men, arrived in Newport harbor. The Chevalier de Tournay commanded the fleet, and the Count de Rochambeau the army. Illuminations, complimentary addresses, and general joy hailed the day. The French who had come to the country before the Count d'Estaing, were men of neither consideration, influence, nor principle. When d'Estaing arrived high hopes were excited. But his conduct was timorous and vacillating, and confidence was again lost. The coming of Rochambeau was greeted with public rejoicing, but there were still lurking doubts and suspicions. The Rev. Jacob Bailey, a tory clergyman, "improves" the arrival of the French in his Diary, August 5th, 1780, thus: "To see these people who had always the greatest aversion to the manners, religion, and government of the French, now rejoicing in their alliance, and exulting in their assistance, affords a most strik ing instance of the perverseness of the human heart, and displays, beyond example, the obstinacy, the madness, the folly, the perfidy of my countrymen." A Frenchman was better than an Englishman, perhaps; how much better was to be proved. Rochambeau and Washington had not a per-, fect understanding. The secret of the difficulty undoubtedly lay in their different estimates of General Lafayette. He was the especial friend of Washington; but he was distasteful to the gentlemen and nobles who accompanied Rochambeau, many of whom were his elders in years, and superiors in military rank and service. But the exquisite tact displayed by Rochambeau in the management of his army at Newport was worthy the most accomplished courtier of the most ceremonious court. The English had left a name of hatred and terror behind them. They had destroyed property, and insulted the proprietors in every way. They had waged war with barbaric recklessness. But the French commander ordered the most conscientious respect toward persons and things. The wounds inflicted by British ruffianism were healed by the balm of French politeness. The young noblemen of Rochambeau's suite lived simply, popularly, and even frugally. The tories themselves were compelled to love them. The soldiers were at once inspired and restrained by the conduct of their superiors, and it is estimated that a hundred dollars would cover the damage done to Newport by the presence of the French army. The gay gentlemen of the General's suite not only respected Newport houses, but its homes also. The most successful of intriguers forgot gallantry in the presence of the purity of character they encountered here. It is related, indeed, that the wife of a Newport gentleman had listened too willingly to the wishes of one of the officers. The husband ascertained the fact, but being tenderly attached to his wife, and unwilling to ruin her by exposure, redoubled his kindness and devotion, and, at the same time, unsuspectedly deprived the officer of opportunity of secret meetings. The loyalty of the wife returned; the officer expostulated and pleaded in vain, then grew angry and withdrew, leaving the happy husband and rescued wife more closely united than ever. But this story is told as a remarkable instance. Even the Abbé Robin confesses that "Newport was the exception" to the gallant rule of French life. Admiral de Tournay died soon after his arrival, chagrined at the reproaches heaped upon him for want of energy and courage. He was buried with great military pomp in Trinity church-yard, where his monument still remains. ROCHAMBEAU'S HEAD QUARTERS. Vernon, who was president of the Eastern Navy Board at Boston, and who gave himself and his means heartily to the great struggle. Upon the windows of this comely house, which has still an air of ancient dignity, the names of famous belles were scratched by the diamond rings of the French officers. The panes are now gone, but it is well remembered that the glass was covered with such scrawling, which gave the beauties, long since forgotten, to an evanescent fame. It was here that General Washington was entertained when he arrived at Newport, in March, 1781, to see Count de Rochambeau. The barge of the French admiral was sent for him, and he crossed the bay from the Conanicut shore, saluted by the French fleet, and landed at the Ferry dock, corner of Washington Street and Long Wharf. He was a Marshal of France, without which honor he could not have commanded the French army, and wore on this day the insignia of his office. As he stepped ashore the bells rang, the French cannon thundered incessantly, and the Commander-in-chief was received by Rochambeau and a group of his officers and a deputation of citizens. "I regarded him," says one of the French observers, "with the attention which the sight of great men always inspires. We half expect to find in their features the genius which distinguishes them above their fellows. Wash ington is adapted, more than any other man, to produce this impression-tall, noble, well-proportioned, with an open, sweet, and calm expression, and an entirely modest air, he strikes and interests French and Americans, and even his enemies." Through the lines of the army, drawn up three deep, and with the profound obeisance of French chivalry, the waving of hats, and plumes, and standards, Washington, with Rochambeau upon his left, walked bare-headed up the Parade and along Clarke Street to his quarters at the Vernon House. In the evening the town was illuminated, and The head-quarters of Count de Rochambeau the officers, escorted by a large number of citiwere in the Vernon House, corner of Clarke and zens, and preceded by thirty boys bearing torches, Mary streets, so called from its proprietor William | marched through the streets. Upon returning VOL. IX.-No. 51.-U to the house Washington carefully thanked the boys for their services. It was his first interview with the French officers, and it is supposed that in the Vernon House he sketched, with Rochambeau, the plan of an attack upon New York. ping ashore at Newport, fresh from the beauties of all the world, stopped in the street as she passed, involuntarily removed their hats in homage, and gazed after her, enchanted, long after she was gone. She married Christopher G. Champlin, brother of Washington's partner in "A successful Campaign." Men who were boys in Newport thirty and forty years ago, remember a grave and gracious old lady pouring wine and eggs and sugar into a pan, stepping down into the yard where the cow was feeding, and returning with a creamy, foamy, whipped syllabub. It was the beautiful Redwood, the toast of the Associated with this visit of Washington, the name of one of the belles of those days has attained a greater immortality than even French courtesy had secured. This was the beautiful Miss Champlin, a Newport maiden famed no less for her charm of manner than her lovely person. During Washington's visit the citizens of the town gave a ball in honor of the event to the Commander-in-chief and his French host, in the Assem-flower of France. bly-room in Church Street. The General was summoned to open the ball, and he selected Miss Champlin for his partner, and requested her to name the dance. She chose "A successful Campaign," a dance then in the highest favor. As Washington led out his partner upon the floor, the French officers, with the most graceful courtesy, took the instruments from the hands of the musicians, and played while the couple stepped through the minuet. There is a chivalric strain in that old gallantry which the belated spectator might contemplate the nightly dances of the "Atlantic," the "Ocean," and the "Bellevue," without immediately perceiving. The Duc de Lauzun-the Duc de Biron of the Vendée-the most famous gallant of his time, whose amours were endless, and whose affair with the beautiful Lady Sarah Bunbury (whom, as Lady Sarah Lenox, George III. seriously wished to marry), and with the Polish princess Czartorisky, who proved to the catholic Duke que sans être jolie on pouvait être charmante, are historical-arrived in Newport in July, 1780, with Rochambeau, after a passage of seventy-two days from Brest. He says that if the English had immediately attacked them, the French would have been lost. Admiral Rodney's fleet, with others, constantly appeared off the island, and frightened them; but no attack was made. Lauzun recommended himself to Washington by not declining to serve under Lafayette, who was yet at school when Lauzun was a colonel in the army. The Duc spoke English, which with Frenchmen is always a rare accomplishment. They can not even spell the names of places correctly. Upon their pages Hartford is always Harford, New Bedford is Newbedfort; Seekonk masquerades as Selchoon; Mystic, as Mistruck; the Tappan Zee as Tapyzay, &c. But this facility in English committed the Duc de Lauzun to an infinity of details, "mortellement ennuyeux," but necessary. He was sent on all missions into the interior, whither the schoolmaster had not yet carried French. Ellery, one of the Rhode Island signers This Sybarite of Marly goes to Lebanon, where now the Sybarites of America congregate in sum The heroine of this little romance lived with her parents in the house still standing at No. 119 Thames Street, where Washington took tea on the evening of the ball. It is now occupied by the grandson of the beautiful girl, and has been the home of five successive generations. Fortunately all memorial windows in Newport are not yet broken, and the name of Betsey Haliburton is still visible, scratched upon a pane in the room of this house where Washington took tea. There were other belles, too, whose fame, like that of the fair Champlin, survives by surer records than a diamond-scratched name upon a window. The daughters of William of the Declaration of Independence, are not forgotten by domestic tradition. One of them married Williams's The name of Miss Redwood also escapes to us from that group of Revolutionary belles. She was the daughter of the Abraham Redwood from whom the library takes its name. Tradition calls her "ex-. ceedingly beautiful," and tells of the Newport beauty a story like that told of the superb Duchess of Devonshire. "Ah! lady," said a London dustman to the Duchess, as she stepped, resplendent, into her carriage, may I light my pipe at your eyes?" and of the beautiful Redwood it is told that sailors step 66 31111 PURGATORY BLUFF. mer. "Siberia alone can be compared to Leba- | thing more, possibly, than the tender regrets of non," says the Duc de Lauzun in despair. the girls they left behind them. In Newport he is charmed by the society, and makes especial mention of the family of Dr. Hunter. The doctor was no longer living at the time of the Duc de Lauzun's visit; but he says, "Madame Hunter, a widow of some thirty-six years of age, had two charming daughters, whom she had perfectly well educated. They lived in a very retired manner, and saw scarcely any one. Chance introduced me to Madame upon my arIrival in Rhode Island. She received me into her friendship, and I was presently regarded as one of the family. I really lived there; and when I was taken seriously ill, she had me brought to her house, and lavished upon me the most touching attentions. I was not in love with the Misses Hunter; but had they been my sisters I could not have loved them more, especially the eldest, who is one of the most amiable persons I have ever met." These ladies went to Europe soon after the peace. The elder married Count de Cardignan; the younger, Mr. Falconet, a banker of Naples. But in 1782-3, a year after the departure of the French army, came the Prince de Broglie and a party of friends to console them. "I arrived in Newport, that charming spot regretted by all the army." He had no more pressing business, he says, than to make acquaintance with its society, and was immediately presented to Monsieur Champlin, celebrated for his wealth, but better known in the army by the lovely face of his daughter. This was the partner of Washington's minuet. The Prince, having no more pressing duty than visiting, fortunately had also the time to observe, the taste to criticise, and the talent to record his observations. Miss Champlin, in his portrait of her, had beautiful eyes, a sweet mouth, a perfectly shaped face, fine figure, pretty foot, and an air altogether attractive. She was dressed and coiffed with taste; "that is to say," says this penetrant critic, “à la | Française,” and she understood and spoke French. The Prince de Broglie, and his friend M. de Vauban, instantly paid ample homage of admiration and respect to Miss Champlin; and then hurried to see the Misses Hunter, "her rivals in beauty and reputation," of whom the Duc de Lauzun had already spoken. The eldest, who had so charmed Lauzun, the Prince finds to be not regularly beautiful; but she has a noble as The Duc de Lauzun speaks of Washington's visit to Newport as by no means so agreeable as thirty boys with torches, the army drawn up in line, a ball given by the citizens, and a minuet danced with the beautiful Miss Champlin, while the French officers played "A successful Campaign," would lead us to suppose. When, some-pect, and the air of high breeding, with a spiritual time afterward, Rochambeau sent de Lauzun with a letter informing Washington that arrangements had been made different from those they had stipulated together, the Duc says that Washington was so angry that he did not wish to answer, but finally sent a cold reply, stating that he was still of the same opinion, but that Count Rochambeau was of course his own mas ter. The gay and gallant de Lauzun remained in service to the end of the campaign and of the war. He returned to France after the peace of 1783. His name appears in the tumultuous history of his country during the subsequent period, as member of the States General, co-embassador with Talleyrand and Chauvelin to London, as General of the Army of the Rhine, of the Maritime Alps, and of the Vendée; and for the last time, on the 1st of January, 1794, when he was condemned for an alleged conspiracy against the Republic, and the head which had been caressed by all the famous beauties of a famous age fell under the guillotine. face and grace of movement. "She dresses at least as well as Miss Champlin," says this true Frenchman; "not quite so freshly, perhaps." Miss Nancy, the younger sister, had not so lofty an air, it seems; “but she is a rose in person." Her character was gay, her face always smiling, and her teeth charming, which is a very rare thing in America," says this audacious critic. Yet Callender speaks of defective teeth among the people of the island, and Roger Williams says that the Narragansett Indians complained much of toothache. After this brilliant beginning they returned home, and de Vauban-as in an Arabian talepromised the Prince "still better things for tomorrow!" Accordingly, the next day they proceeded to a house where a serious and silent old gentleman received them without raising his hat, asked them to be seated without compliment, and answered their questions in monosyllables. Their host was evidently a Quaker; and while they were sitting amused with their reception, suddenly we beheld the Goddess of grace and of beauty, Minerva in person, having exchanged her sterner attributes for pastoral charms. It was the daughter of the Quaker, Polly Lawton" (the name was then pronounced, and is spelt by de Broglie and Segur, Leighton or Leyton). The 66 The belles of Newport doubtless thought American liberty dearly purchased by the departure of the French army-the "small, keen-looking" Rochambeau. "not handsome as was his son"-the Count de Noailles-"the resplendent beauty of the two Viosminels," youths of whom an eye-appreciative Frenchman continues: "In accordwitness says: "Iewport never saw any thing so handsome as these two young brothers." The Duc de Lauzun, de Vauban, de Champceretz, the Marquis de Chastellux, de Chabanes, Bozon de Talleyrand, could not leave for other posts and other conquests without taking with them s me ance with the customs of her sect she addressed us familiarly (nous parla en nous tutoyant), but with a simplicity and grace which I can only compare to that of her toilet. It was a kind of English dress, fitting the figure closely, and was white as milk, a muslin apron of the same color, |