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.”  Segur 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 Segur 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