Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 26, September, 1880

Jean Baptiste de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau and marshal of France, was born in Vendôme in 1725. At sixteen he served under the maréchal de Broglie, was afterward aide to the duc d'Orléans, and distinguished himself in the battles of Crevelt, Minden, Closterkamp and Corbach, being seriously wounded several times. A thorough soldier, Rochambeau possessed not only courage, but a clear, practical eye, accompanied by foresight and judgment. His memoirs show him to have taken more kindly to the camp than the court, and outside of war to have been fond of the sports of a country gentleman. His appearance in Trumbull's picture of the surrender of Cornwallis shows us more of a Cincinnatus than of an Alexander. He was reserved in his manner, even with his officers, and De Fersen, writing to his father, complains of it, acknowledging, however, that it was shown less with him than with others. Later on he does Rochambeau justice, and says: "His example had its effect on the army, and the severe orders he gave restrained everybody and enforced that discipline which was the admiration of the Americans and of the English who witnessed it. The wise, prudent and simple conduct of M. de Rochambeau has done more to conciliate America to us than the gain of four battles."

With this representative soldier of his time came so fine a showing of the noblesse of France, fresh from the most brilliant court of Europe, that they are worth a short description. They are interesting, if from nothing else, from the fact that they are the men who appear on the page of history one day steeped in the enervating luxury and intrigue of Versailles and Marly, the next fighting and dying with the courage of the lionhearted Henri de la Rochejaquelin in Vendée, leaving as an epitaph on their whole generation the words of the Chouan chief, "Allons chercher l'ennemi! Si je recule, tuez moi; si j'avance, suivez moi; si je meurs, vengez moi!" Never even in Napoleon's campaigns, where each man had as incentive a name and fortune to carve, was there such a race of soldiers as these same aristocrats.

First and foremost, let us mention Armand Louis de Gontaut, duc de Lauzun, the duc de Biron of the Vendée. He was the gayest gallant of the time, and whether with the Polish princess Czartoriski, the beautiful Lady Sarah Bunbury—George III.'s admiration as he saw her making hay at Holland House—Mesdames de Stainville and de Coig and the rollicking actresses of the Comédie Française, or Mrs. Robinson (the prince of Wales's "Perdita,"), seems to have had universal success. We except the record that gives him the love of Marie Antoinette. To him was entrusted in this expedition the legion that bore his name, with Count Arthur Dillon as coadjutor. The maréchals-de-camp were the two brothers Viosmenil, celebrated for their beauty, and the marquis de Chastelleux, a member of the Institute and possessed of some literary merit. He had written a piece called La Félicité publique, which drew from the wits of the day the following epigram:

  À Chastelleux la place académique:  Qu' a-t-il donc fait? Un livre bien conçu.  Vous l'appelez La Félicité publique;  Le public fut heureux, car il n'en a rien su.

He printed twenty-four impressions of his travels in America by the aid of a printing-press on the squadron, the first record of a book having been published privately in the colonies. The aides of De Rochambeau were the handsome Swede Count de Fersen, the marquis de Vauban, Charles de Lamette (who fought a famous duel in the Bois de Boulogne with the duc de Castries), De Dumas and De Laubedières: De Tarli was intendant. The list of officers comprised such historic names as those of the marquis de Laval-Montmorenci, the duc de Deux-Ponts (colonel of the regiment raised in Alsace that bore his name), his two brothers, Vicomte de Chartres, De Custine, D'Olonne, De Montesquieu and the vicomte de Noailles. The last named had, as ambassador to England, the task entrusted to him of bearing to Lord Weymouth the news of the French alliance with America.

The fleet which appeared off Newport on the 11th of July, 1780, comprised seven ships of the line—the Duc de Bourgogne, Neptune, Conquérant, Provence, Eveillé, Jason and Ardent—the frigates Surveillante, Amazone and Gentille, the corvette Fantasque (which was a hospital-ship) and the cutter La Guêpe. There were thirty-two transports with the expeditionary corps of five thousand men. Admiral de Ternay, wisely profiting by D'Estaing's experience, lost no time in reaching his destination. He was welcomed by the sight of the French flag planted both on Point Judith and Newport Point, this being the signal agreed on with La Fayette that all was well. Only a few days later he would have been intercepted by an English squadron, Admiral Graves having sailed from Portsmouth early in the season, intending to prevent the French reaching Newport, but his plans were deranged by the bad weather. The squadron entered the beautiful harbor of Newport with flying flags and pennons bright with the golden fleur-de-lys of France.

From the earliest days of the colony Newport had taken a prominent place in its history. Its natural advantages had early singled it out for both commercial and social distinction. One of the first governors, Coddington, was its original settler. An openly-avowed freedom from prejudice was among the first declared principles of Rhode Island. Quakers and Jews were gladly received, and while the former brought with them the temperance and moderation peculiar to their tenets, the latter grafted on Newport commerce the spirit of enterprise which made the town celebrated in colonial annals for its prosperity and importance. The Jewish merchants were men of good origin, fine presence and character. They were many of them of high birth in Spain and Portugal, and they have bequeathed to posterity a record of stately hospitality and unblemished integrity. The names of Lopez, Riviera, Seixas and Touro are honored and respected still in their former home, and the fine arch that towers over the gay promenade of to-day gives entrance to their last resting-place, so solemn and so majestic a home of the dead that it drew from the Nestor of American poets a stirring apostrophe to the manes of the dead sons of Israel. The fine harbor and bay of Newport soon attracted commerce from all nations, which heaped its wharves with riches and made princes and magnates of its merchants—a position they seemed born to sustain. The Overings, Bannisters, Malbones and Redwoods kept open house and exercised lavish hospitality—witness, as told by the Newport Herald of June 7, 1766, the story of Colonel Godfrey Malbone's feast on the lawn of his burning mansion, so fine an edifice that its cost had been a hundred thousand dollars in 1744; but the house taking fire at the time he had invited guests to dinner, he thus feasted rather than disappoint them, and all through the long summer night they held high revel and pledged each other in jovial toasts while the flames of the burning building illumined these Sardanapalian orgies. Year after year added to the importance of this city by the sea: year after year the Indies poured into its warehouses the riches with which Newport, out of its abundance, dowered New York, Boston and Hartford and ornamented and enriched the stately homes of its merchants. There is, however, one blot on its scutcheon—one which darkens the picture of this prosperity and the means that helped make it—and that is the slave-trade. Yes, the town which was to give birth to William Ellery Channing was one of the first to become interested in this baleful traffic. It is true it was denounced by the Legislature, which as early as 1652 made it penal to hold slaves, yet statistics show that between 1730 and 1752 the return cargoes of all ships from the West Indies consisted of them. The slave-trade of Newport bore fruit in other evils. At this time there were no less than forty distilleries at work, and this rum, exported to Africa, bought and brought home the human freight. However, in 1774 the importation was prohibited, and all male children born after 1784 were declared to be free.

Nowhere was there a more courtly and elegant society than in Newport. The rules of etiquette were rigorously adhered to, and there was no jesting on so sacred a topic as the honor and respect due to those whom the good rector of Trinity was wont to allude to as moving in higher spheres. De Ségur a year or two later says of it: "Other parts of America were only beautiful by anticipation, but Rhode Island was complete. Newport, well and regularly built, contained a numerous population, whose happiness was indicated by its prosperity. It offered delightful circles composed of enlightened men and modest and handsome women, whose talents heightened their personal attractions." To-day, Newport is the rendezvous of the best society of the land. Handsome women and clever men meet and greet there, but can the society be more distinguished than, from this description, it must have been a century ago? We wonder if the stately dames who in the eighteenth century held court here would quite approve of the laissez-aller of modern intercourse. The youth of to-day, whose highest praise for his fair partner of the cotillon is often that she is "an awfully good fellow," has little kinship with his ancestor, who used to wait at the street-corner to see the object of his devotion go by under the convoy of her father and mother and a couple of faithful colored footmen, thinking himself happy meanwhile if his divinity gave him a shy glance. The gay girl of the period, who scampers in her pony chaise down the avenue from one engagement to the other, and whose most sacred confidence is apt to be that she adores horses and loves "pottering about the stable," is, with all her charms, quite different from the blushing little beauty of 1780, who in powdered hair, quilted petticoat and high, red-heeled shoes gave her lover a modest little glance at the street-corner, thinking it a most delicious and unforeseen bit of romance to have a lover at all. But other times other manners, and nineteenth-century men and women are no doubt as charming in their way as were our pretty ancestresses and their gallants of a century ago.

The prosperity of Newport received a check from the Revolution. The English occupation resulted in a vandalism that destroyed the fine mansions, turned public buildings, and even Trinity Church, into barracks for the soldiers and stables for their horses, laid waste the country, cut down the trees and obliterated the landmarks. Thus the French found it, and they were welcomed as possible deliverers and defenders from the English rule. Rochambeau and his staff reached Newport in the frigate Hermione on the afternoon of the 11th of July, and the next day the troops were landed, many of them being ill and all in need of rest after the long voyage and cramped quarters. The forts were put in possession of the French, who proceeded to remodel them into a better condition to resist a siege. General Heath, hearing at Providence the news of the arrival of the fleet, came down to Newport to greet Rochambeau, whom he met on shore, going afterward on board the Duc de Bourgogne to see the admiral, who in return saluted the town with thirteen guns. On the evening of the 12th Rochambeau dined with General Heath, a grand illumination of the town taking place afterward, and each day saw some new festivity to welcome the guests who had made the American cause their own. The army had been stationed across the island guarding the town, the right toward the ships and the left upon the sea, Rochambeau thus carefully covering the position of his vessels by the batteries. Everything was en fête. The people were delighted with the manners and courtly polish of the French. Robin says of the discipline insisted on at Newport, "The officers employed politeness and amenity, the common soldiers became mild, circumspect and moderate." The French at Newport were no longer the frivolous race, presumptuous, noisy, full of fatuity, they were reputed to be. They lived quietly and retired, limiting their society to their hosts, to whom every day they became dearer. These young nobles of birth and fortune, to whom a sojourn at court must have given a taste for dissipation and luxury, were the first to set an example of frugality and simplicity of life. They showed themselves affable, popular, as if they had never lived but with men who were on an equality. Every one was won, even the Tories, and their departure saddened even more than their arrival had alarmed. Rochambeau also alludes to the discipline of the army, and says: "It was due to the zeal of the generals and superior officers, and above all to the goodwill of the soldiers. It contributed not a little to make the State of Rhode Island acquiesce in the proposition I made it, to repair at our expense the mansions which the English had mutilated, so that they might serve as barracks for the soldiers if the inhabitants would lodge the officers. We spent twenty thousand crowns in repairing the houses, and left in the place many marks of the generosity of France toward its allies."

We have before us an old plan of Newport in 1777, and a list of the officers' hosts. We find the general quartered at 302 New lane, corner of Clark and Mary streets. Its proprietor, William Hunter, was president of the Eastern Navy Board at Boston and an earnest upholder of the rights of the colonies. The gallant and all-conquering Lauzun was at the widow Deborah Hunter's, No. 264 Thames street. Mrs. Hunter was the mother of two charming daughters, whom Lauzun eulogizes in his journal. His praise has been often quoted, yet it is worth repeating, as it shows this Lovelace in a new and pleasing light. He says: "Mrs. Hunter is a widow of thirty-six who has two daughters, whom she has well brought up. She conceived a friendship for me, and I was treated like one of the family. I passed my time there. I was ill, and she took care of me. I was not in love with the Misses Hunter, but had they been my sisters I could not have been fonder of them." The two Viosmenils and their aides were at Joseph Wanton's, in Thames street. The Wantons had been governors of Rhode Island from 1732: Joseph Wanton was the last governor under the Crown. He is described as wearing a large white wig with three curls—one falling down his back and one forward over each shoulder. De Chastelleux lodged with Captain Maudsly, at No. 91 Spring street; De Choisy at Jacob Riviera's in Water street; the marquis de Laval and the vicomte de Noailles at Thomas Robinson's, in Water street; the marquis de Custine, the commander of the regiment Saintonge, at Joseph Durfey's, 312 Griffin street; Colonel Malbone entertained Lieutenant-Colonel de Querenel at No. 83 Thames street; while Colonel John Malbone was the host of the commandant Desandrouins, the colonel of the engineers, at No. 28 of the same street; William Coggeshall of No. 135 Thames street had the baron de Turpin and De Plancher for guests; De Fersen and the marquis de Darnas were at the house of Robert Stevens, and De Laubedières and Baron de Closen at that of Henry Potter, both in New lane; Madame McKay, 115 Lewis street, quartered De Lintz and Montesquieu; Joseph Antony, at 339 Spring street, Dumas; and Edward Hazard, of 271 Lewis street, the two D'Olonnes. Admiral de Ternay was much on his ship, but lodged at Colonel Wanton's in Water street; his captains, De la Chaise and Destouches, were at Abraham Redwood's, 78 Thames street.

On the 21st of July, Admirals Graves and Arbuthnot arrived off the harbor with eleven vessels—one of ninety, six of seventy-four, three of sixty-four, and one of fifty guns. The following day the number was increased to nineteen, and from this time the French squadron was effectually blockaded in Newport. Although doubt seems to have been felt by some as to the good intentions of the French army, the general feeling on their arrival was one of joy. On Sunday, the 15th, the intelligence became known in Philadelphia, where Congress was then sitting. Washington ordered the soldiers to wear a black-and-white cockade as a symbol of the alliance, the American cockade being black and the French white, but seems withal to have felt nervous and impatient for some decisive action. He sent La Fayette to Newport to urge Rochambeau to make an attack on New York, but the latter replied that he expected from the admiral de Guichen, who commanded the West India squadron, five ships of war, and declined to take any steps until his army was in better condition. La Fayette, who was young and full of ardor, was hardly pleased with Rochambeau's caution, but apologized for his impetuosity on the ground of disliking to see the French troops shut up in Newport while there was so much to be done. To this Rochambeau replied that he had an experience of forty years, and that of fifteen thousand men who had been killed and wounded under his orders he could not reproach himself with the loss of a single person killed on his account. He desired, however, a personal interview with Washington—a request which from some reason the commander-in-chief did not seem anxious to grant. There was at times a coolness in the relations between Rochambeau and Washington, arising perhaps from a different estimate of La Fayette; but the cloud, if there was any, was never very perceptible or of any long duration. On the 21st of August a committee of the General Assembly of the State, at that time in session at Newport, presented Rochambeau and De Ternay with a formal address of welcome. De Rochambeau's reply was full of manliness and good-will. He said, "The French troops are restrained by the strictest discipline, and, acting under General Washington, will live with the Americans as their brethren. I assure the General Assembly that as brethren not only my life, but the lives of the troops under my command, are entirely devoted to their service." This frank avowal dissipated a fear felt by some that the French might have some ulterior motive in coming to the assistance of the colonies.

It is not to be supposed that the belles of Newport were indifferent to the advent of these fascinating French paladins, or that the gallant Gauls were unmoved by the beauty and grace of the Newport women. With one accord they joined in admiration of their fair hostesses, not only for their charms of face and figure, but for the purity and innocence of their characters, which made a deep impression on these Sybarites, accustomed as they were to the atmosphere of intrigue and vice peculiar to the French court of the day. We find the record of this enthusiasm in the letters and journals of the officers, but for a picture of the special belles of the time there is none more correct than that furnished by the prince de Broglie and the comte de Ségur, who visited Newport the following year. They note particularly Miss Champlin, the daughter of a rich merchant who lived at No. 119 Thames street. Mr. Champlin had large shipping interests, which he managed with great enterprise. At his house De Broglie was introduced by De Vauban, who as aide to De Rochambeau had met all the Newport notables, and the prince writes: "Mr. Champlin was known for his wealth, but more for the lovely face of his daughter. She was not in the room when we entered, but appeared a moment after. She had beautiful eyes, an agreeable mouth, a lovely face, a fine figure, a pretty foot, and the general effect was attractive. She added to these advantages that of being charmingly coiffée in the Paris style, besides which she spoke and understood our language." Of the Hunters, Lauzun's hostesses, De Broglie says: "The elder, without being regularly handsome, had a noble appearance and an aristocratic air. She was graceful, intellectual and refined. Her toilette was as finished as Miss Champlin's, but she was not as fresh, in spite of what De Fersen said. The younger, Nancy Hunter, is not so modish, but a perfect rosebud. Her character is gay: she is always laughing, and has beautiful teeth—a thing not common in America." But Vauban, who on this occasion acted as master of ceremonies, promised the prince a greater treat for the morrow, and took him on that day to a house on the corner of Touro street and the Park, where they found a serious and silent old gentleman, who received them without compliment or raising his hat and answered their questions in monosyllables. The lively Frenchmen would have made a short visit had not the door opened and a young girl entered; and here De Broglie's own raptures must speak: "It was Minerva herself who had exchanged her warlike vestments for the charms of a simple shepherdess. She was the daughter of a Shaking Quaker. Her headdress was a simple cap of fine muslin plaited and passed round her head, which gave Polly the effect of the Holy Virgin." Yes, this was Polly Lawton (or Leighton), the very pearl of Newport beauties, of whom the prince says in continuation: "She enchanted us all, and, though evidently a little conscious of it, was not at all sorry to please those whom she graciously called her friends. I confess that this seductive Lawton appeared to me a chef-d'oeuvre of Nature, and in recalling her image I am tempted to write a book against the finery, the factitious graces and the coquetry of many ladies whom the world admires." Ségur says: "She was a nymph rather than a woman, and had the most graceful figure and beautiful form possible. Her eyes appeared to reflect as in a mirror the meekness and purity of her mind and the goodness of her heart." Polly chides the count, according to the rules of her faith, for coming in obedience to the king, against the command of God, to make war. "What could I reply to such an angel?" says the entranced Frenchman, "for she seemed to me a celestial being. Certainly, had I not been married and happy in my own country I should, while coming to defend the liberty of the Americans, have lost my own at the feet of Polly Lawton." We fear the comtesse de Ségur would hardly have relished her lord's raptures over the pretty Quakeress, and would have quite approved of Rochambeau's order which sent him back to his post.

Among this bevy of Continental beauties, to whom we may add the names of the lovely Miss Redwood—to whose charms sailors in the street would doff their hats, holding them low till she had passed—the two Miss Ellerys, Miss Sylven, Miss Brinley, Miss Robinson and others, it is not wonderful that the French officers bore patiently the enforced blockade. They indulged in constant festivities, to which they invited their fair enslavers. A deputation of Indians, numbering nineteen and consisting of members of the Tuscarora, Caghnawgas and Oneida tribes, visited the camp on the 2d of August. They were cordially received by Rochambeau, who gave them a dinner at which they were reported to have behaved well. After dining with General Heath they performed their war-dance, which was a novel and interesting sight to the French officers. As a return for this entertainment the French army gave a grand review, preceded by firing of cannon. The sight must have been a fine one. The regiments were among the flower of European chivalry, some of them of historical celebrity, such as the regiment of Auvergne, whose motto was "Sans tache" and one of whose captains, the famous D'Assas, is said to have saved a whole brigade at the expense of his life, crying, as he saw the enemy approaching on his unsuspecting comrades, "À moi Auvergne! voilà les ennemis!" and fell dead. The uniforms of the troops were most effective. The officers wore white cockades and the colors of their regiments faced with white cloth. The Bourbonnais regiment was in black and red, Saintonge in white and green, Deux-Ponts in white; the Soissonnais wore pink facings and grenadier caps with pink and white plumes, while the artillery were in blue with red facings. The savages were delighted with the pageant, but in spite of its splendor expressed more astonishment at seeing trees loaded with fruit hanging over tents which the soldiers had occupied for months than at anything else. They took their departure in September, being presented with blankets and other gifts by Rochambeau.

Perhaps the finest display was that which celebrated the French king's birthday on Friday, the 25th of August. The ships were decorated with the flags of all nations during the day and brilliantly illuminated at night. High mass was celebrated on the flag-ship, after which a number of salutes were fired. The town joined in the festivity. The bells of Trinity were rung and the inhabitants decorated their houses with flags. The autumn was spent in agreeable pastimes, but with the approach of winter it became necessary to put the army into comfortable quarters. The houses which Rochambeau had offered to repair were ready, and the regiments were installed in them; the State-House, which had been used as a hospital by the English, was put to the same use by the French; and an upper room in it was fitted up as a chapel, where masses were said for the sick and dying by the ábbe de Glesnon, the chaplain of the expedition. The list of the dead was soon to include no less a person than Admiral de Ternay. He was taken ill of a fever early in December, and brought on shore to the Hunter house, where he died on the 15th, being buried with great pomp in Trinity churchyard on the following day. The coffin was carried through the streets by sailors: nine priests followed, chanting a requiem for the departed hero. The tomb placed over the remains by order of Louis XVI. in 1785 having become injured by the ravages of time, the United States government in 1873, with the co-operation of the marquis de Noailles, then French minister, had it moved into the vestibule of the church, placing a granite slab over the tomb. One of Rochambeau's aides ascribes the admiral's death to chagrin at having let five English ships escape him in an encounter.