"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."