The story
Welcome to the heart of Newport’s historic waterfront. As you stand here on Thames Street, take a moment to look at the imposing brick structure at number 392. This is the Francis Malbone House, built in 1760.
Even in a city famous for the massive Gilded Age mansions further up the hill, this colonial-era residence commands a unique kind of respect. It is a grand survivor of a time when Newport was one of the five busiest and wealthiest ports in the New World. The man who commissioned this home, Francis Malbone, was a titan of the shipping industry.
To design a residence that reflected his immense status, he turned to Peter Harrison, who is often called America’s first professional architect. If you have already seen the Redwood Library or the Touro Synagogue nearby, you will recognize Harrison’s signature hand here. He was a master of the Palladian style, bringing the refined symmetry and classical proportions of the English Enlightenment to these rugged colonial shores.
Notice the precision of the red brickwork and the elegant, balanced entryway. In 1760, this house would have loomed over the simple wooden shacks and bustling warehouses that lined the harbor, serving as a literal monument to Malbone’s commercial success. But there is more to this house than just architectural elegance.
To truly understand the Malbone mansion, you have to understand the tension of pre-Revolutionary Newport. The British Crown was tightening its grip on trade, and heavy taxes were squeezing the local merchants. This brings us to the legend that has whispered through these halls for over two and a half centuries: the secret subterranean passage.
It is said that Malbone, unwilling to see his profits vanished by the King’s customs officials, had a secret tunnel constructed. It allegedly ran from the dark cellar of this house, directly under the very ground where you are standing on Thames Street, and out to his private wharf on the harbor. Under the cover of night, forbidden goods—rum, molasses, and tea—could be spirited from the holds of his ships and into his basement without a single tax collector being the wiser.
While modern historians debate whether the passage was a dedicated smuggling route or a sophisticated drainage system, the story persists because it captures the defiant, rebellious spirit of Newport’s merchant class. As you look at the house today, which now serves as a beautifully preserved inn, notice how it sits slightly back from the street, guarded by its iron fence and lush gardens. It was one of the few grand houses to survive the British occupation of the city during the Revolution.
When you continue your walk, imagine the heavy scent of sea salt and pine tar that once filled the air here, and the quiet footsteps of a merchant disappearing into the shadows of his cellar, keeping his secrets hidden beneath the cobblestones. This isn’t just a house; it is a portal to the high-stakes world of colonial trade and the birth of American independence.