by the commander in the crowd, who sat upon his white horse at the south end of the bridge. He performed the dreary night march through the snow toward Princeton, and was in the battle there on the following morning. His term of service expired while the American army was at Morristown, whither it went from Princeton. From Morristown, himself and companions made their way on foot, through deep snows, back to Providence, crossing the Hudson River at King's Ferry (Stony Point), and the Connecticut at Hartford. Gladly would I have listened until sunset to the narrative of his great experience, but the first bell of the packet summoned me away.
I left Providence at three o'clock in the Perry, and arrived at Newport, thirty miles distant, at about five, edified on the way by the conversation of the venerable William Cranston, of Attlebury, Massachusetts, then eighty-one years of age, who was a resident of Newport during the Revolution. The bald appearance of Rhode Island, relieved only by orchards, which showed like dark tufts of verdure in the distance, with a few wind-mills and scattered farm-houses, formed a singular and unfavorable feature in the view as we approached Newport; while upon small islands and the main land appeared the ruins of forts and batteries, indicating the military importance of the waters we were navigating. This was
"Rhode Island, the land where the exile sought rest;
The Eden where wandered the Pilgrim oppress'd.
Thy name be immortal! here man was made free,
The oppress'd of all nations found refuge in thee.
"There Freedom's broad pinions our fathers unfurl'd,
An ensign to nations and hope to the world;
Here both Jew and Gentile have ever enjoy'd
The freedom of conscience in worshiping God."