Elsie's Journey on Inland Waters

"Ah ha! ah ha! um h'm! so I think myself; also that this is a handy company to own as nieces and nephews. But what say you, Annis, my bonny bride?" turning to her, with a look that spoke proud ownership.

"That I am entirely willing you should be uncle and I aunt to the whole crowd of good people here, if they desire it," Annis answered, with a look of amusement. "It will not make us really any older in feeling or appearance. And I am quite accustomed to having nieces and nephews not very many years younger than myself."

"And have not found it a nearly unendurable trial, I hope, Aunt Annis?" Cyril said inquiringly.

"No; quite the contrary," she answered. "But, to change the subject; there is a good deal that is interesting to be seen about here, is there not?"

"Yes, indeed! This is Middletown; it was formerly a part of Newport, and known in those times as 'ye woods.' It has an area of twelve and a half square miles. There are five schoolhouses, three churches, and a town hall."

"Why, I thought it was country!" exclaimed Rosie. "As we drove along I noticed little groups of houses here and there, but there seemed to be farms, orchards, and fields; also a good many rocky-looking hills; some that didn't seem to be cultivated at all."

"Yet, there is so much beauty that it seems to me worthy of its name – Paradise Valley," remarked her mother.

"I think so," said Cyril, "and I expect to enjoy taking you all to its various places of interest – Purgatory Rocks, Sachuest and Easton's Beaches, Hanging Rocks, and the site of the former residence of Bishop Berkeley."

"Who was he?" asked Grace.

"A clergyman, born in Ireland, educated in England; a learned man and author of a number of books; a good Christian man too; one of whose projects was the founding of a college in the Bermudas for the training of ministers to supply churches and teach Christianity to the savages of America. The English government was to supply the means, but failed to do so, and Berkeley came on here to Newport in January, 1729, bought a farm, built a small house upon it, and there lived and studied, preaching occasionally, while waiting for the performance of the promise of the English government. He waited about three years; then, convinced that the promise would never be kept, went back to England."

"And he left the income of his property here to be used in educating students of Yale College, did he not?" asked Violet.

"Yes; gave books too – a valuable collection donated by himself and friends – and most of the volumes are still there. He had a share in the formation of Redwood Library here in Newport, also. He was both a very good and very distinguished man."

"Did he name this Paradise Valley?" asked Grace.

"No, I have been told it was named by Mr. Isaac Barker, who owned a large part, if not all of it, in Revolutionary days. By the way, his descendants still live here, one of them in the very house owned and occupied by him at that time."

"Oh, yes," said Molly; "we must take you to see that house, so interesting because a relic of the Revolution, and the dear old lady who is now its mistress. I know you will be much interested in her, Cousin Elsie, and all she can tell of events here in this valley during that war."

"I shall be glad to call to see her, if you are quite sure she will not deem it an intrusion," replied Mrs. Travilla.

"No, I am sure she will not; she is very kind and hospitable, and seems to really enjoy telling the story of those times to one who shows a deep interest in it."

"As we all would do," said Mr. Dinsmore, glancing at his watch as he spoke. "But it is growing late now. Shall we not have our evening worship together and then retire to rest? Cousin Cyril, as you are a minister, the rest only laymen, suppose you lead our devotions."

CHAPTER XV

As they expected to make their stay upon the island but short, and wished to see every interesting spot, all were up and about early the next morning.

Naturally the history of the State, and particularly of the island upon which they were, was the principal topic of conversation at the breakfast table. Walter began it.

"If my memory serves me right, it was somewhere about here that General Nathaniel Greene had his quarters in 1778."

"Yes," replied Captain Raymond, "on a farm owned by Colonel Richard K. Randolph."

"Why, I thought Greene's fighting was done in other parts of the country!" said Rosie.

"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."

"And even some of the British have admired him very much," said her father, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"And given him high praise," added Walter. "I for one am proud of being his countryman."

All had now finished their breakfast, and leaving the table they repaired to the adjoining cottage, exchanged greetings with its occupants, then together they held their morning service, after which they arranged their plans for the day.

"As this is Saturday and I leave for Princeton on Tuesday next, I have only to-day and Monday for looking about and seeing places of interest in this neighborhood," remarked Walter.

"How and where do you want to go?" asked Mr. Embury.

"Down to the beaches, to all the places connected with the doings of Bishop Berkeley and the Revolution, all about Paradise Valley, and – to look at Purgatory; but not to get into it," replied the lad, concluding with a slight laugh.

"Do you want company or prefer to go alone?" was the next query, to which Walter replied, "I can go alone, I suppose, but I should prefer good company if it is to be had."

"Would mine answer that description?"

"Yes, indeed, sir! but, I daresay, you have seen all the places already and perhaps might be only bored by being asked to repeat your visit."

"Quite a mistake, my young friend; they are worth looking at time and again."

"I should think so," remarked the captain. "Suppose we make up a party of such of our members as would enjoy a pretty long stroll, go down through this valley to the beach yonder, visit Purgatory Rocks and as many other of the places of interest as we may feel inclined to see to-day and have time and strength to visit."

"I approve of your plan," said Molly. "I was thinking it would be best to defer our intended visit to that dear old lady in the Revolutionary house till Monday, as Saturday is apt to be a busy one with housekeepers."

"Yes," said Mrs. Dinsmore, "I think it will be quite enough to venture an intrusion upon her at the most convenient time for her that we can select."

"A real favor for her to permit it at any time," added Grandma Elsie.

They were gathered on the porch. Captain Raymond now rose and looking down toward the water said, "Ah, yonder is the Dolphin; according to my order of yesterday she has been brought here to afford a sail along the coast of the island to any who may desire it."

"Oh, how good and kind in you, captain!" exclaimed Mrs. Keith. "I for one should be delighted to go."

"All can sail who wish," said the captain. "The Dolphin has day accommodations for even a larger company than this, and of course we shall return long before night."

As he concluded, he looked at Mrs. Dinsmore as if expecting her to speak first, and as she was the eldest lady in the company she did so, saying: "I for one have been so long on the water that I feel a strong inclination to stroll down to the beach; though I have no doubt that the sail will be very enjoyable."

"How would it do to take the stroll to the nearest point to where the yacht is lying, and then continue your walk, or go aboard the vessel, as you feel inclined?" asked the captain.

"Oh, nicely! I think," she returned; "especially if some of the others would like to join me in so doing."

"I should," "And I," "And I," cried several voices, one of them being Grandma Elsie's, and another Violet's; while at the same time nearly every one of the children was asking permission to go along.

"Yes, yes! let them all go," said the captain.

"A walk to the beach down yonder will not be too long for any one of them, I think, and when we get there each one of our party can decide whether to continue the stroll or board the yacht."

CHAPTER XVI

"I think we will have to divide our forces," said Mr. Embury, when, after preliminary preparations and arrangements, all were ready to set out for the beach and the yacht, "for there are so many of us that we will astonish the natives and they will probably be asking the meaning and object of the procession."

"Well, my dear, what of what?" queried his wife gayly. "It will give them an interesting subject of inquiry and conversation."

"Very well, my Molly; if you like to be talked about, I have no further objection to make," was his cheerful response.

"There are a good many of us," remarked the captain, glancing about, "actually two dozen, counting all – big and little, old and young."

"And a very respectable-looking crowd it is," remarked Violet. "I'm not in the least ashamed of anyone in it. Yet it might be well to break up into several smaller parties, by the way of guarding against alarming our good neighbors, or making all the grown up ones keep to the slow pace of the very little folks. Ah, I see Evelyn, Rosie and Walter, Lu and Grace, are already on the wing."

"Yes," said the captain; "they have just started in response to a motion from me to move on. They will reach the beach probably some minutes ahead of us, but can be trusted not to get into any danger or mischief."

"Surely," laughed Violet. "Mamma, shall you and I walk together?"

"While I follow with the children," added the captain. "I see your grandpa and his wife are moving on ahead of us."

"Cousin Ronald should go next with his bonny bride, while we of this cottage bring up the rear with our children," said Molly.

"Putting a small space between to avoid being mistaken for a procession," added Mrs. Keith.

"Bound for Purgatory; but none of us to get inside, I trust," said Mr. Embury. "I hope the young folks won't attempt to climb up those rocks till we older ones get there to look after them."

"No, I think we'll find them on the beach," said the captain. "I bade mine wait there for me, and I can say – for mine, at least, that they love their father well enough to follow his directions carefully."

"That is very true," said Grandma Elsie; "and equally true with regard to the care with which my Rosie and Walter conform to mine."

"And no wonder, mamma and Levis," said Violet, "for you are both so reasonable in your commands and prohibitions, so kind and affectionate, that it would take a very hard-hearted and stubborn nature to rebel against your authority."

"Ah ha! ah ha! um h'm! that's exactly my opinion," said Mr. Lilburn, looking round upon them with a smile. "I have noticed many times, with sincere admiration, the admirable manner in which the children of these families are trained. I only wish I'd been favored with such examples before I went at the business myself."

"I see no reason why you should, Cousin Ronald," returned the captain, "for the only one of your offspring with whom I am acquainted, seems to me to be all a father could ask or wish."

"Ah ha! um h'm! I'll no deny that my Hugh is as fine a lad as could be found in a day's travel; and Malcolm not a whit behind him; but neither will I deny that the credit belongs more to the native goodness o' the lads than to their father's training."

It was a fine breezy morning, with a delicious coolness in the air, and all keenly enjoyed the walk to the beach. They spent a few moments there, then climbed the rocks and passed along the summit till they reached the deep fissure called Purgatory. There the children, carefully guarded by their parents, lest a false step should precipitate them into the deep chasm, were allowed to gaze into its depths for a moment, then led away and seated on a rock to rest.

Most of the older ones lingered a little longer, watching the movement of the water at the bottom, and speculating about the depth and width of the chasm, and what would be the dire consequence of a fall into it.

"I wouldn't advise you to try it, my young friends," said Mr. Embury. "It must be fully fifty feet down to the water, and if you reached the bottom alive you wouldn't remain so many minutes."

"No, I suppose not," said Walter, reflectively; "but the fissure is not very wide and I think I could jump across."

"Oh, Walter, don't think of such a thing!" exclaimed Rosie, stepping back suddenly, at the same time catching him by the arm and pulling him away.

"Why, Rosie, do you think I could be such a goose as to attempt anything so foolhardy as that, when nothing was to be gained by it?" he exclaimed, in a tone between vexation and amusement.

"No, I don't," she said, drawing a long breath, "but the very thought of it frightens me."

"To run such a risk without any good object in view – such, for instance, as the saving of the life of someone else – would be a very wicked thing, I think," said Mr. Keith.

"I entirely agree with you," said Captain Raymond, "no one has a right to rush uncalled into the presence of his Maker.

"Oh, I shouldn't think anybody would ever want to try jumping across here!" exclaimed Grace. "I wonder if anyone ever did."

"It is said that the thing was done once under peculiar circumstances," replied Mr. Embury. "The story is that a young and pretty girl, who had many admirers, suitors for her hand, came here with one of them and dared him to jump across the chasm, saying that if he did so successfully, she would marry him; otherwise she would not; whereupon he attempted the dangerous feat and was successful. But his love for his cruel charmer was gone; he turned toward her, lifted his hat, bade her farewell, walked away and left her never to return."

"Which served her just right," exclaimed Lucilla emphatically. "She couldn't have loved him. Why, I wouldn't let an entire stranger do so dangerous a thing, if I could hinder him. Unless it might be somebody who was here to fight against my country," she added as an afterthought, and with a little laugh.

"You would have let Prescott do it, I suppose – Prescott, the Revolutionary tyrant – had you been with him here and he had shown an inclination to try his skill in that line," said Walter.

"I think I shouldn't have made any very strong objection; for certainly many of my countrymen would have been far better off with him down there at the bottom of the fissure, than where he was – and had no business to be. Do you remember the story of the Tory lady at a ball in Philadelphia, while the British were in possession there, who, when the British general, Sir Henry Clinton, ordered the band to play, 'Britons, Strike Home,' said, 'You should say, "Britons, go home"'?"

"Yes, that was pretty good," laughed Walter. "The ladies had at least one advantage over the men in those days, they could give the invaders many a home thrust with their tongues without much danger of personal violence or imprisonment, in return for it."

"That reminds me of a little anecdote of something that occurred in Charleston, South Carolina, when they were in possession there," said Grandma Elsie. "One of the British officers had taken a great fancy to a beautiful American girl, but she would have nothing to do with him; which, of course, made him very angry. One day they met in the street. A big negro was near at hand and the British officer said to him, so that the lady could hear, 'Go and kiss that lady, and I'll give you a guinea.'

"'Yes,' said she, 'come and kiss me. I'd a thousand times rather be kissed by you than by him.'"

"So he didn't make much by that," laughed Mr. Embury.

"I wonder if the darkey did kiss her," said Grace. "I'm glad I wasn't in her place, if she had to let either him or the British officer do it."

"And you would rather be living now, wouldn't you, daughter?" said her father, giving her a loving look.

"And belong to you, papa? Yes, indeed!" she replied.

"How very straight these openings in the rocks are!" remarked Walter. "They look as if they had been cut with a knife."

"Yes, it is very strange," said Rosie.

Then perceiving that the others had turned away and were going toward the spot where the little ones were, they followed.

"There is a fine prospect here on both land and water," remarked Mr. Embury. "Do you see that hanging rock over yonder – not close to the water. That, they say, is where Bishop Berkeley used to preach. I visited it the other day, and found it so hard a place to climb to that I should think his congregations must have been small; unless they stood in the valley below; which would make his pulpit very high above them."

"Where is the house he lived in?" asked Rosie.

"At some distance, I believe. I have not seen it yet."

"Now," said Captain Raymond, "will any or all of you take a sail in the Dolphin? You can all see her lying out yonder and the row-boat will soon carry us to her. There is plenty of room for everyone here, a warm welcome if they choose to go aboard, and a more delightful day for a sail around the island could hardly be found."

All accepted the invitation with alacrity, descending the rocks to the beach at once, and were soon aboard.

They found it a very delightful trip. The captain, having been frequently in those waters, was able to point out every interesting object, name all the islands, and call attention to the still visible ruins of fortifications on Gold, Goat, Rose, Contour, and Canonicut islands. That last, he told them, was the Dumplings Fort, or Fort Canonicut; and directly opposite was the Castle Hill of the Revolution, now Fort Adams, three and a quarter miles below Newport. In calling attention to it, Captain Raymond remarked, "That is, as regards strength, the third fortress in the United States. It is Newport's defence against foreign foes."

"I am glad she has such a defence," said Mr. Embury. "But may she never suffer again from a foreign foe as she did in Revolutionary days. Perhaps you all remember that her population in 1774, the year before that war began, was eleven thousand, and in 1782 it was reduced to only about six thousand, and private property to the value of $624,000 in silver money had been destroyed."

"Yes," said the captain, "there had been great and wanton destruction by the ruthless invaders, in both town and country. The island of Rhode Island had been so celebrated for its beauty and salubrity, before that war, that it was the chosen resort of the rich and philosophical from nearly every part of the civilized world; but war had sadly changed it before the British left, after three years of occupancy, in which they had pillaged and destroyed more like savages than civilized men; though after Prescott was superseded by Sir Robert Pigot as commander of the British forces on the island, the people were much relieved. They were treated with respect, and plunder ceased. General Pigot was a gentleman and no marauder."

CHAPTER XVII

The sun was setting as the Dolphin discharged her complement of passengers, and they walked up the valley to their temporary abodes. They had had their evening meal upon the yacht, and the little ones were ready and glad to be taken at once to their beds, the older to sit in restful quiet upon the porches, enjoying the evening breeze, a cheerful chat over all they had seen and learned in their delightful little excursion around the island, and in laying plans for others of the same kind, and for walks and drives here and there, till every interesting spot in the neighborhood should have received from them due attention. Also in making arrangements for attending the public service of the sanctuary on the approaching Lord's day; the captain having already planned for the Dolphin's crew to do the same, taking turns so that the vessel would not be left at any time entirely unguarded.

When all these questions had been discussed and settled, though it was still early, they held their accustomed evening family service, and retired to rest, that they might hope to awake in good season refreshed and ready to engage with enjoyment in the sacred duties of the holy day.

It dawned a lovely autumn day, a cool refreshing breeze coming in from the bay, making the walk through the lovely valley to the open churches a pleasure as well as duty.

The services over, they returned home, and after partaking of a simple dinner, gathered upon the largest of the porches, and each one old enough to read, with Bible in hand, they spent an hour in the study of its sacred pages.

The subject engaging their attention was the way of salvation; Mr. Keith, who was the leader, called for texts showing the one true way, and they were given by one and another as they found them in God's word.

"'If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart, man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth, confession is made unto salvation,'" repeated the captain, adding the comment, "Let us notice that the belief which is unto salvation is evidenced by holy living; belief that is not unto righteousness is not a true and living faith. The devils believe and tremble, but theirs is not a saving faith, for they do not love and trust in Jesus. It is the faith which worketh by love that saves."