June 10

Newport, RI

# Rochambeau's Army Departs Newport for Yorktown In the early summer of 1781, the American Revolution hung in a precarious balance. The war had dragged on for six years, and the Continental cause was beset by exhaustion, dwindling finances, and a series of military setbacks in the southern colonies. General George Washington's army, encamped in the Hudson Valley of New York, was too small and too poorly supplied to strike a decisive blow against the British on its own. It was against this backdrop of uncertainty that one of the most consequential military movements of the entire war began — not from an American camp, but from the cobblestoned streets and harbor wharves of Newport, Rhode Island. On June 10 and 11, 1781, the French expeditionary force commanded by Jean-Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, Comte de Rochambeau, departed Newport on a march that would ultimately end the Revolutionary War. Rochambeau, a seasoned and tactful officer who had spent decades in the service of the French crown, led approximately 4,000 well-trained, well-equipped soldiers out of the city that had served as their base of operations for nearly a year. The French army had arrived in Newport in July of 1780, dispatched by King Louis XVI as a tangible expression of the Franco-American alliance forged in 1778. For months, the troops had drilled, fortified the town's defenses, and waited — first blockaded by a British naval squadron, then for a coordinated strategic plan to emerge between Rochambeau and Washington. Newport provided not only a deep-water harbor capable of sheltering the French fleet but also a secure staging ground from which the army could eventually launch offensive operations. Without this base, the campaign that followed would have been logistically impossible. The march from Newport carried the French army westward through Connecticut and into New York, where Rochambeau's forces rendezvoused with Washington's Continental troops at Phillipsburg, just north of New York City. The initial plan discussed between the two commanders was to launch a combined assault on the British stronghold of New York. Washington had long favored such an attack, viewing the city as the strategic prize of the war. Rochambeau, however, harbored doubts about the feasibility of storming New York's formidable defenses without clear naval superiority. Events soon rendered the debate moot. Word arrived that British General Charles Cornwallis had moved his army into a position at Yorktown, Virginia, on the tip of the Chesapeake Bay peninsula, and that a large French fleet under Admiral François Joseph Paul de Grasse was sailing from the Caribbean toward the Chesapeake. Recognizing a rare and fleeting opportunity, Washington and Rochambeau made the bold decision to pivot their combined forces southward in a rapid march toward Virginia. The journey from Newport to Yorktown totaled more than 700 miles, an extraordinary feat of logistical coordination for an eighteenth-century army. French and American troops marched through the summer heat across multiple states, crossing rivers and navigating difficult terrain while maintaining discipline and secrecy. The allied deception operations were so effective that the British command in New York under General Sir Henry Clinton remained uncertain of Washington's true objective until it was too late to reinforce Cornwallis. When the combined Franco-American army arrived at Yorktown in late September, they laid siege to Cornwallis's position with methodical precision. De Grasse's fleet, having won a critical naval engagement at the Battle of the Capes on September 5, sealed off any possibility of British escape or reinforcement by sea. Cornwallis, trapped on land and cut off from the ocean, surrendered his army of roughly 8,000 men on October 19, 1781. The departure from Newport set all of this in motion. It was the first step in a chain of events that effectively ended major combat operations in the American Revolution and paved the way for the Treaty of Paris in 1783, which recognized American independence. Rochambeau's march stands as a testament to the indispensable role of the Franco-American alliance and to Newport's vital, though sometimes overlooked, place in the founding of the United States. Without the harbor, the soldiers, and the months of careful preparation that took place in that small Rhode Island city, the decisive victory at Yorktown might never have been achieved.

Newport, RI

# The French March from Newport to Yorktown, 1781 In June of 1781, one of the most remarkable military movements of the American Revolutionary War began quietly in the coastal city of Newport, Rhode Island. The French army, commanded by Jean-Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, Comte de Rochambeau, broke camp and set out on a march that would cover hundreds of miles through the American countryside, ultimately culminating in the decisive siege that effectively ended the war. The departure from Newport represented not only a bold strategic gamble but also one of the great logistical achievements of the eighteenth century, requiring the coordination of thousands of soldiers, artillery pieces, supply wagons, and the delicate diplomacy between two allied nations whose cooperation was still being tested. Rochambeau and his expeditionary force of approximately 5,000 French soldiers had arrived in Newport in July of 1780, sent by King Louis XVI as part of France's formal alliance with the fledgling United States. Newport served as the French army's headquarters for nearly a year, during which time the troops trained, fortified their position, and waited for the right moment to strike a meaningful blow against the British. The alliance between France and the American colonies, formalized by the Treaty of Alliance in 1778, had yet to produce a truly decisive victory. Meanwhile, the Continental Army under General George Washington was stretched thin, underfunded, and struggling to maintain morale after years of grueling warfare. Washington had long favored an attack on the British stronghold of New York City, but Rochambeau recognized that such an operation would require naval superiority that the allies did not yet possess in northern waters. The strategic picture shifted dramatically in the spring of 1781. British General Charles Cornwallis had moved his army into Virginia, positioning his forces at Yorktown on the York River. Rochambeau, drawing on intelligence and his own seasoned military judgment, urged Washington to consider a southern campaign instead of the risky assault on New York. At a meeting between the two commanders in Wethersfield, Connecticut, the outlines of a new plan began to take shape. If a French fleet could be brought to the Chesapeake Bay to cut off Cornwallis by sea, a combined Franco-American force might be able to trap the British army entirely. When Rochambeau's army marched out of Newport in June, the soldiers moved northwestward through Rhode Island and into Connecticut, following roads that wound through small towns and farmland. The French forces were noted for their discipline and professionalism, and contemporary accounts describe local residents turning out to watch the impressive columns pass. The army made its way to the area near the Hudson River in New York, where it linked up with Washington's Continental forces. Together, the combined army began the long march southward toward Virginia, a movement that required careful secrecy and misdirection to prevent the British in New York from realizing the true objective. The march itself was a masterwork of military planning. Supplying thousands of troops over such a vast distance demanded coordination of food, ammunition, and transportation across multiple states. Rochambeau's staff managed these logistics with remarkable efficiency, ensuring that the army arrived in Virginia in fighting condition. When the allied forces reached Yorktown in September 1781, they were joined by the French fleet under Admiral François Joseph Paul de Grasse, which had sailed from the Caribbean and secured control of the Chesapeake Bay after defeating a British naval force at the Battle of the Capes. Cornwallis found himself surrounded by land and sea with no prospect of reinforcement or escape. The siege of Yorktown lasted from late September to October 19, 1781, when Cornwallis surrendered his entire army. This victory proved to be the final major military engagement of the Revolutionary War and set in motion the negotiations that would lead to the Treaty of Paris in 1783, formally recognizing American independence. None of it would have been possible without the long march that began in Newport. The departure of Rochambeau's army from that city marked the end of Newport's role as the center of French military operations in America and the beginning of the campaign that changed the course of history. Today, the route the French army followed through New England and southward is commemorated by historical markers, ensuring that this extraordinary journey remains a visible part of the American landscape and a lasting reminder of the alliance that secured the nation's freedom.

Providence, RI

# The Burning of the HMS Gaspee By the early 1770s, tensions between the American colonies and the British Crown had been simmering for nearly a decade. The Stamp Act of 1765, the Townshend Acts of 1767, and the ongoing presence of British customs enforcement vessels in colonial waters had created a climate of deep resentment, particularly in maritime communities whose economic lifeblood depended on trade. Rhode Island, with its thriving merchant class and long tradition of independent governance, was an especially volatile flashpoint. The colony's economy relied heavily on shipping, and many of its leading citizens viewed British trade regulations not merely as inconveniences but as existential threats to their livelihoods. It was in this atmosphere of frustration and defiance that the HMS Gaspee, a British revenue schooner, arrived in Narragansett Bay in March of 1772, and it was there that one of the earliest and most daring acts of organized colonial resistance would unfold. The Gaspee was commanded by Lieutenant William Dudingston, a Royal Navy officer who carried out his duties with a zeal that quickly made him one of the most despised figures in Rhode Island. Dudingston aggressively stopped and searched colonial vessels, seized goods he deemed contraband, and conducted his operations with an arrogance that offended even those colonists who might otherwise have accepted the legitimacy of British customs enforcement. Complaints about Dudingston's conduct reached Rhode Island's governor, Joseph Wanton, who protested to British Admiral John Montagu, but the admiral dismissed the governor's concerns and defended Dudingston's actions. This exchange underscored a growing colonial grievance: that local authorities were powerless against the unchecked reach of British military and naval officials who answered to no one in the colonies. On the afternoon of June 9, 1772, the Gaspee gave chase to the packet sloop Hannah as it sailed down Narragansett Bay toward Providence. The Hannah's captain, Benjamin Lindsey, who knew the local waters intimately, maneuvered his vessel over the shallow sandbars near Namquid Point, a spot known today as Gaspee Point. The Gaspee, drawing more water than the smaller sloop, ran hard aground. With the tide ebbing, Dudingston and his crew were stranded, unable to free the ship until the water rose again well after midnight. When word of the Gaspee's predicament reached Providence, a group of prominent citizens quickly organized a bold plan. That night, Abraham Whipple, a seasoned sea captain who would later serve as a captain in the Continental Navy during the Revolutionary War, led a party of men in longboats from Providence down the bay toward the helpless schooner. Under cover of darkness, the raiders approached the Gaspee, and when Dudingston appeared on deck to challenge them, he was shot and wounded. The colonists boarded the vessel, overpowered the crew, and removed everyone from the ship before setting it ablaze. The Gaspee burned to the waterline, its destruction a vivid and unmistakable act of rebellion against British authority. The British response was swift in its intent but ultimately futile in its results. King George III ordered the establishment of a royal commission of inquiry charged with identifying the perpetrators and sending them to England for trial — a prospect that alarmed colonists throughout America, as it threatened the fundamental right to be tried by a local jury of one's peers. Despite the commission's efforts, not a single resident of Rhode Island would come forward to testify against the attackers. This collective wall of silence was not mere coincidence; it represented a remarkable act of organized, community-wide resistance. The people of Rhode Island, from dockworkers to merchants to government officials, closed ranks and refused to cooperate with the Crown's investigators. The commission eventually disbanded without securing any indictments. The significance of the Gaspee affair extends far beyond the destruction of a single ship. It demonstrated that colonial defiance of British authority was not limited to protests or pamphlets but could take the form of direct, violent confrontation. It revealed the depth of solidarity within colonial communities and exposed the limits of British power to enforce compliance when an entire population chose to resist. The affair also helped catalyze intercolonial communication about shared grievances, contributing to the establishment of Committees of Correspondence that would prove vital in coordinating the broader revolutionary movement. Remarkably, this dramatic episode occurred more than a year before the Boston Tea Party of December 1773, which is often remembered as the signature act of pre-revolutionary defiance. The burning of the Gaspee reminds us that the road to American independence was paved not by a single dramatic moment but by a series of courageous acts of resistance, and that Rhode Island stood at the very forefront of the struggle.