The wealthy planter had other sources of income than slave-trading. He owned great ships that engaged in general commerce. He had an immense dairy and made fine Rhode Island cheese from the milk of his beautiful “blanket-cows.” It was his ambition to have one hundred of these lovely black-and-white animals, but it is a matter of tradition that, while he could keep ninety-nine readily enough, when he bought or raised the hundredth cow, one of the ninety-nine sickened and died, or was lost through accident, and thus the number still fell short. Great quantities of grain and hay did he also raise on his fertile farm; and besides the grain and cheese that he shipped to the West Indies he also sold to the wealthy colonists many Narragansett pacers—swift horses of the first distinctively American breed. These pacers all came from one sire, “Old Snip,” who it is said was of Andalusian birth and was found swimming in the ocean off the coast of Africa, was hauled on board a trading-ship and was carried to Narragansett, where he was allowed to run wild on the Point Judith tract. These sure-footed pacers had a peculiar gait; they did not sway their rider from side to side, nor jolt him up and down, but permitted him to sit quietly, and thus endure without fatigue a long journey. In those carriageless days, when nearly all travel was by saddle and pillion, the broad-backed, easy-going Narragansett pacers were in such demand that they brought high prices and proved a good source of income.
Three children were born to the builder of this beautiful colonial home: William Robinson, who died in Newport in 1804, in a house on the corner of Broadway and Mann Avenue, and two daughters, Mary and Hannah. Gay festivities had these young people in the hospitable great house, especially when a demure young Quaker cousin was sent to them to live for awhile in order to break up a romantic love-affair of hers with a young French officer. Count Rochambeau was a guest at her father’s house, and too many opportunities for love-making were found when the young Frenchman came to report to his commanding officer.
Gayest and loveliest of all the beauties throughout Narragansett was fair Hannah Robinson—Unfortunate Hannah. Much testimony of her extraordinary beauty has descended to us, one story being of her meeting with Crazy Harry Babcock, that reckless dare-devil of a soldier whose feats of valor by land and sea were known all over Europe as well as in America. This extraordinary man, during a visit to England, was invited to the palace and introduced to the royal family. When the queen extended her hand to him to be kissed, he sprang briskly from his knees, exclaiming: “May it please your majesty, in my country, when we salute a beautiful woman we kiss her lips, not her hand,” and with the words he seized the astonished queen by the shoulders and impressed on her lips a rousing smack. Upon his return to America he went to Narragansett for the avowed purpose of “seeing the prettiest woman in Rhode Island.” As he entered the parlor of Rowland Robinson’s house fair Hannah rose to meet him, and the crazy colonel, as she extended her hand to greet him, dropped on his knee with a look of intense admiration, saying, in the stilted words of the times: “Pray permit one who has kissed unrebuked the lips of the proudest queen on earth to press for a moment the hand of an angel from heaven!”
The great wealth and luxurious manner of living of the opulent Narragansett planters was shown in no way more plainly than in the manner in which they educated their children. They spared no pains nor expense to obtain the best masters and teachers. Rowland Robinson sent his daughter to Newport to receive instruction from Madame Osborne, whose fame as a teacher was known throughout America, and whose “Memoirs” form the dullest book in the English language. At this school Hannah met the handsome lover who was to have such an influence over her life. Pierre Simond, or Peter Simons as was most unromantically Anglicized his name, was a scion of a French Huguenot family, who taught music and French in Madame Osborne’s school. From the moment the young couple met they were lovers. Both knew, however, how hopeless it was to think of obtaining Mr. Robinson’s consent to a marriage which would appear to him so unequal; they therefore kept their love a secret.
As the time approached for Hannah’s return to her home in Narragansett, the lovers were in despair at the thought of separation, for they knew their unhappiness could not be mitigated even by the exchange of love-letters. At this juncture the young music-teacher managed to obtain a position as private tutor in the family of Colonel Gardiner, who lived only two miles from Hannah’s home and who was her uncle.
It can easily be divined that when once in Narragansett the happy lovers found many opportunities of meeting, which were frequently brought about by the romantic and easy-going colonel, and were not hindered by Hannah’s mother when she discovered her daughter’s love-affair. Though Mrs. Robinson would not give her approval she tacitly gave her aid by helping to conceal the lovers’ meetings from Rowland Robinson; and it was with her knowledge that the lover came to Hannah’s chamber, where he often had to be concealed in the friendly cupboard.
When Peter Simons could not enter the Robinson house he stood by his true-love’s window under a great lilac-bush, which is still growing, sturdy and unbroken under the weight of a century of years. In the concealing shadow of the lilac-bush words of love might be whispered to the fair girl who leaned from the window, or letters might be exchanged with comparative safety.
But true love ran no smoother in the eighteenth century than in the nineteenth, and when one night a fair hand dropped a tender billet into the gloom of the lilac-bush, old Rowland Robinson chanced to open the door of his house and he saw the white messenger descend. Speechless with suspicion and rage he rushed to the lilac-bush and thrust his buckthorn stick into it with vigorous blows until a man ran out into the darkness, whom the irate father in the second’s glimpse recognized as the “wretched French dancing-master” who taught his nephews.
The horrified and disgusted anger of Rowland Robinson and the scene that ensued within doors can well be imagined; little peace or happiness was there for Hannah after her father’s discovery. Updike, in his “History of the Narragansett Church,” says of her life at this time: “If she walked, her movements were watched; if she rode, a servant was ordered to be in constant attendance; if a visit was contemplated, her father immediately suspected it was only a pretext for an arranged interview; and even after departure, if the most trifling circumstance gave color to suspicion, he would immediately pursue and compel her to return. In one instance she left home to visit her aunt in New London; her father soon afterward discovered from his windows a vessel leaving Newport and taking a course toward the same place. Although the vessel and the persons on board were wholly unknown to him, his jealousies were immediately aroused. Conjecturing it was Mr. Simons intending to fulfil an arrangement previously made, he hastened to New London, arrived a few hours only after his daughter, and insisted on her instant return. No persuasions or argument could induce him to change his determination, and she was compelled to return with him.”
Though Rowland Robinson was firm in his determination and constant in his action to prevent the lovers from meeting, Hannah—the true daughter of her father—was equally determined not to give up her sweetheart; and as the Narragansett neighbors, like the rest of the world, “dearly loved a lover,” they gladly assisted the romance by exchanging letters and arranging meetings for the lovers. Months of harassing suspicions and angry words at home, and frightened meetings with her lover away from home, told so upon Hannah’s health that her mother finally permitted to be carried into execution a long-planned scheme of elopement. It was finally arranged through the agency and assistance of a young friend of Hannah’s—Miss Belden—and the ever sentimental colonel-uncle.