Nooks and Corners of the New England Coast Part 46

On the eastern side of Easton's Point, which divides what would otherwise be a continuous beach into two, is Purgatory Bluff, a ma.s.s of conglomerate split asunder by some unknown process of nature. The two faces of the fissure appear to correspond to each other, but no other force than that which smote may restore them. A place used to be shown on the irregular surface of the rocks above where the Evil Spirit of the red men once dragged a squaw, and, in spite of her frantic struggles, which might be traced, dispatched her, and flung the body into the chasm. Another and more recent legend is, that here a lover was dared by his mistress to leap across the chasm, some fourteen feet, her glove to be the guerdon of his success. The feat was performed, but the lover flung the glove into the face of his silly mistress. What seems curious in these fractures of pudding-stone, the pebbles break in the same direction as the ma.s.s of rock.[283]

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHITEHALL.]

Hanging Rock, a favorite haunt of good Dean Berkeley, is a cavity or shelf where it would be practicable to sit, and, while looking off to sea, indulge in dreamy musings. Half a mile farther on is the house he built, and afterward, on his departure from the country, gave to Yale. It bears the pretending name of Whitehall, for, though comfortable-looking, it is little palatial.

The dean, it is said, told the painter, Smibert, who ventured to betray some distrust of his patron's sanguine belief in the future importance of Newport, "Truly, you have very little foresight, for in fifty years'

time every foot of land in this place will be as valuable as in Cheapside." If he indeed made the remark attributed to him, he was only a century or so out of his reckoning.

The name and fame of George, Bishop of Cloyne, the friend of Swift and of Steele, the professor of an ideal philosophy, and the projector of a Utopian scheme for evangelizing and educating the Indians, is dear to the people of Newport. He came to America in 1728 with the avowed purpose of establishing a college, "to be erected on the Summer Islands," the "still vext Bermoothes" of Shakspeare.

Berkeley is perhaps more familiar to American readers by four lines--of which the first is as often misquoted as any literary fragment I can call to mind--than by his philosophical treatises:

"Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day: Time's n.o.blest offspring is the last."

The residence of the dean at Newport was a forced retirement, the sum of twenty thousand pounds promised by Sir Robert Walpole in aid of his college never having been paid. In this college, "he most exorbitantly proposed," as Swift humorously remarked, "a whole hundred pounds a year for himself, forty pounds for a fellow, and ten for a student." Seven years were pa.s.sed in literary pursuits; "The Minute Philosopher," of which no one who comes to Newport may go ignorant away, being the offspring of his meditations. Along with the dean came John Smibert, of whose canvases a few remain scattered over New England, and whose chief excellence lay in infusing the love of his art into such men as Copley, Trumbull, and Allston.[284] Pope a.s.signs to Berkeley "every virtue under heaven." There is no question but that he was as amiable and learned as he was thoroughly speculative and unpractical.

The return to town by Honyman's Hill, named from the first pastor of Trinity, is thoroughly enjoyable and interesting. The historical student may here see how near the Americans were advanced toward the capture of Newport. An old windmill or two or a farm-house are picturesque objects by the way.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WASHINGTON PARK, NEWPORT.]

"I saw," says Miss Martineau, "the house which Berkeley built in Rhode Island--built in the particular spot where it is, that he might have to pa.s.s, in his rides, over the hill which lies between it and Newport, and feast himself with the tranquil beauty of the sea, the bay, and the downs as they appear from the ridge of the eminence. I saw the pile of rocks, with its ledges and recesses, where he is said to have meditated and composed his 'Minute Philosopher.' It was at first melancholy to visit these his retreats, and think how empty the land still is of the philosophy he loved."

FOOTNOTES:

[275] Many of these so-called cottages cost from $50,000 to $200,000.

For the season, $2000 is considered a moderate rental, and $5000 is frequently paid.

[276] "R. Goodloe Harper's Speeches, p. 275."

[277] By smashing their frigates, _L'Insurgente_, _La Vengeance_, _Berceau_, and making it generally unpleasant for them.

[278] Duke de Feltre, French minister of war.

[279] He afterward returned to France, and was made minister of war.

[280] Fort Morgan was constructed by him with twelve posterns, a statement significant to military engineers. General Totten closed six of them, and the Confederates, when besieged, all but two.

[281] Canonicut is about seven miles long, its longest axis lying almost north and south. It includes a single township, incorporated 1678, by the name of Jamestown. The island was purchased from the Indians in 1657. Prudence Island, six miles long, is also attached to Jamestown.

[282] At this time four British frigates and several smaller craft were destroyed. The French forced the pa.s.sage on the west of Canonicut, and raised the blockade of Providence.

[283] The chasm is one hundred and sixty feet in length, with an average depth of about sixty feet.

[284] Smibert planned the original Faneuil Hall, Boston. Trumbull painted in the studio left vacant by Smibert.

[Ill.u.s.tration: D'ESTAING]

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE FRENCH AT NEWPORT.

"Grenadiers, rendez-vous!"

"La Garde meurt et ne se rend pas."

"Braves Francais, rendez-vous; vous serez traites comme les premiers soldats du monde."

"_La garde meurt et ne se rend pas._"--OLD GUARD AT WATERLOO.

Another phase of Newport in by-gone days was the sojourn of our French allies in the Revolution. Then there were real counts, and dukes, and marquises in Newport. There had also been a British occupation; but the troops of his Britannic Majesty ruined the town, humiliated its pride, and crushed its prejudices under an armed heel. On the other hand, the French soldiers respected property, were considerate in their treatment of the inhabitants, and paid scrupulously for every thing they took. In time of war a garrisoned town is usually about equally abused by friend or enemy. Here the approach of the French was dreaded, and their departure regarded as a misfortune.

Apropos to the good behavior of our French friends is the testimony of an eye-witness, who says: "The different deputations of savages who came to view their camp exhibited no surprise at the sight of the cannon, the troops, or of their exercise; but they could not recover from their astonishment at seeing apple-trees loaded with fruit above the tents which the soldiers had been occupying for three months." The English, during their occupation, had burned almost the last forest-tree on the island.

The astonishing spectacle of monarchy aiding democracy against itself is one of the reflections suggested by the alliance. Besides Louis Seize, other crowned heads would willingly have helped America as against the old "Termagant of the Seas," had not the idea been too illogical. The Empress Catherine II. is reported as having hinted, in a private interview with Sir James Harris,[285] at the possibility of restoring European peace by renouncing the struggle England was making with her American colonies. "May I ask your Majesty," said the _ruse_ old Briton, "if this would be your policy in case the colonies had belonged to you?"

"J'aimerais mieux perdre ma tete," replied the empress (I would sooner lose my head).

Kaiser Joseph repulsed the idea with equal candor and bluntness: "Madame, mon metier a moi c'est d'etre royaliste" (Madam, my trade is to be a royalist).

This was not the first move France had made to detach the American colonies from the British crown. Far back in the day of the Puritans the thing had been attempted. Again, in 1767, M. de Choiseul dispatched Baron De Kalb on a secret mission. The baron came, saw, and made his report. He wrote from Boston in March, 1768, that he did not believe it possible to induce the Americans to accept foreign aid, on account of their fixed faith in their sovereign's justice.[286] We were still, while growling, licking the hand that smote us. And this little fragment shows that before the day of Caron Beaumarchais, of "Sleek Silas," of "Sleek Benjamin," the idea of a.s.sistance was already germinating. France was to heave away at the old British empire as soon as she had found a fulcrum on which to rest her lever.

D'Estaing came first to Newport; but his appearance, like that of a meteor, was very brilliant and very brief. Besides being vice-admiral, he was also lieutenant-general, and brought with him something in excess of fifteen hundred land soldiers, without counting the marines of his fleet. The chevalier advanced his squadron in two divisions, one ascending the Narraganset, the other the Seconnet pa.s.sage. He cannonaded Sir Robert Pigot's batteries, destroyed some British vessels, and caused some addition to the national debt of England. Then, when the pear was ready to fall, at sight of Earl Howe's fleet he put to sea, and was battered by his lordship and by storms until he brought his shattered vessels into Boston Harbor, where he should refit, and taste Governor Hanc.o.c.k's wine.

The Americans, who had advanced under Sullivan within two miles of Newport--old continentals, militia, and volunteer corps, full of fight and confident of success--were obliged to withdraw in good order but bad temper. Sullivan secured his retreat by a brilliant little action at the head of the island.

The French at Boston found themselves very ill received. They were accused of having abandoned, betrayed Sullivan. French sailors and soldiers were beaten in the streets, and their officers seriously wounded in attempting to quell affrays with the populace. D'Estaing conducted himself with great circ.u.mspection. He refused to press the punishment of the leaders in these outrages; but, stung by the imputation of cowardice, offered to put himself, a vice-admiral of France, with seven hundred men, under the orders of Sullivan, who, says a French historian, "was lately nothing but a lawyer."

[Ill.u.s.tration: EARL HOWE.]

An extraordinary number of personages, distinguished in the Revolution, or under the empire, its successor, served France in America. The heads of many fell under the guillotine. In this way perished D'Estaing. He was in Paris during the Reign of Terror, and present at the trial of Marie Antoinette. One of those ladies who met him at Boston describes him as of dignified presence, affable, and gracious.

With D'Estaing came Jourdan, a shop-keeper, and the son of a doctor. At sixteen he was the comrade of Rochambeau, and in the same regiment Montcalm had commanded in 1743. The Limousin shows with pride to the stranger the old wooden house, with dark front, in which the conqueror of Fleurus was born. The marshal who had commanded the army of the _Sambre et Meuse_ became the scape-goat of Vittoria.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROCHAMBEAU.]

After D'Estaing came Rochambeau, and with him a crowd of young officers of n.o.ble birth, fortune's favorites, who yet sought with the eagerness of knights-errant to enroll themselves in the ranks of the alliance.

Gay, careless, chivalric, and debonair, carrying their high-bred courtesy even to the front of battle, they were worthy sons of the men who at Fontenoy advanced, hat in hand, from the ranks, and saluted their English enemies: "Apres vous, messieurs les Anglais; nous ne tirons jamais les premiers" (After you, gentlemen; we never fire first).

Having in some respects remained much as when the French were here, there is no greater difficulty in beating our imaginary _rappel_ than in supposing Newport peopled when walking at night through its deserted streets.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROCHAMBEAU'S HEAD-QUARTERS.]