The Conquest: The True Story of Lewis and Clark

  XIX

  _EXIT CORNWALLIS_

  "The boy cannot escape me!"

  Lafayette was all that lay between Cornwallis and the subjugation ofVirginia. The lithe little Frenchman, only twenty-three years old,danced ever on and on before him, fatiguing the redcoats far into theheats of June.

  The Virginia Legislature adjourned to Charlottesville. In vainCornwallis chased the boy and sent Tarleton on his raid over themountains, "to capture the Governor."

  Like a flash he came, the handsome, daring, dashing Colonel Tarleton,whose name has been execrated for a hundred years.

  Virginia was swept as by a tornado. Never a noise in the night, nevera wind could whistle by, but "Tarleton's troop is coming!"

  "Tarleton's troop!" Little John Randolph, a boy of eight, his motherthen lying in childbed, was gathered up and hurried away ninety milesup the Appomattox.

  "Tarleton's troop!" Beside the dead body of her husband sat the motherof four-year-old Henry Clay, with her seven small children shudderingaround her. Standing on a rock in the South Anna River, the greatpreacher had addressed his congregation in impassioned oratory for thelast time, and now on a bier he lay lifeless, while the gay trooperraided the lands of his children.

  Even Tarleton was moved by the widow's pallor as he tossed a handfulof coins on her table. She arose and swept them into thefireplace,--"Never will I touch the invaders' gold."

  "Tarleton's troop!" Back at Waxhaw, South Carolina, a lad by the nameof Andrew Jackson bore through life the scars of wounds inflicted byTarleton's men. At that very hour, alone on foot his mother wasreturning from deeds of mercy to the patriots caged in prison pens byTarleton. But the streams were cold, the forests dark; losing her way,overworn and weary, sank and died the mother of Andrew Jackson.

  "Tarleton's troop!" Jack Jouett at the Cuckoo Tavern at Louisa sawwhite uniforms faced with green, and fluttering plumes, and shininghelmets riding by.

  The fiery Huguenot blood rose in him. Before daylight Jack'shard-ridden steed reined up at Monticello.

  "Tarleton's troop, three hours behind me! Fly!"

  There was panic and scramble,--some of the legislators were atMonticello. There was hasty adjournment and flight to Staunton, acrossthe Blue Ridge.

  Assisting his wife, the slender, graceful Mrs. Jefferson, into acarriage, the Governor sent her and the children under the care ofJupiter, the coachman, to a neighbouring farmhouse, while he gatheredup his State papers.

  "What next, massa?" Martin, the faithful body-servant, watching hismaster's glance and anticipating every want, followed from room toroom.

  "The plate, Martin," with a wave of the hand Jefferson strode out fromhis beloved Monticello.

  With Caesar's help Martin pulled up the planks of the portico, and thelast piece of silver went under the floor as a gleaming helmet hove insight. Dropping the plank, imprisoning poor Caesar, Martin faced theintruder.

  "Where is your master? Name the spot or I'll fire!"

  "Fire away, then," answered the slave. The trooper desisted.

  Tarleton and his men took food and drink, but destroyed nothing. Thefame of Jefferson's kindness to Burgoyne's captured army had reachedeven Tarleton, for in that mansion books and music had been free tothe imprisoned British officers.

  "An' now who be ye, an' whar are ye from?"

  An old woman peered from the door of a hut in a gorge of the hills,late in the afternoon.

  "We are members of the Virginia Legislature fleeing from Tarleton'sraid."

  "Ride on, then, ye cowardly knaves! Here my husband and sons have justgone to Charlottesville to fight for ye, an' ye a runnin' awa' wi' allyer might. Clar out; ye get naething here."

  "But, my good woman, it would never do to let the British capture theLegislature."

  "If Patterick Hennery had been in Albemarle, the British dragoonswould naever ha' passed the Rivanna."

  "But, my good woman, here is Patrick Henry."

  "Patterick Hennery? Patterick Hennery? Well, well, if PatterickHennery is here it must be all right. Coom in, coom in to the best Ihave."

  But Daniel Boone and three or four others were captured, and carriedaway to Cornwallis to be released soon after on parole.

  "Tarleton's troop!" cried little Meriwether Lewis, seven years old.

  Sweeping down the Rivanna came the desperado to the home of ColonelNicholas Lewis, away in the Continental army.

  "What a paradise!" exclaimed Tarleton, raising his hands.

  "Why, then, do you interrupt it?" inquired Mrs. Lewis, alone at homewith her small children and slaves.

  The trooper slept that night in his horseman's cloak on the kitchenfloor. At daylight Mrs. Lewis was awakened by a clatter in herhenyard. Ducks, chickens, turkeys, the troopers were wringing theirnecks. One decrepit old drake only escaped by skurrying under thebarn.

  Bowing low till his plume swept the horse's mane, Tarleton gallopedaway.

  The wrath of Aunt Molly! "Here, Pompey, you just catch that drake.Ride as fast as you can, and present it to Colonel Tarleton with mycompliments."

  On flying steed, drake squawking and flouncing on his back, the darkeyflew after the troopers.

  "Well, Pompey, did you overtake Colonel Tarleton?" was Aunt Molly'swrathful inquiry.

  "Yes'm."

  "What did he say?"

  "He put de drake in his wallet, and say he much obleeged!"

  Little Meriwether, sitting on the gate-post, laughed at his aunt'sdiscomfiture.

  The roll of a drum broke the stillness of Sabbath in the Blue Ridge.

  "Tarleton's troop!" By the bed of her sick husband sat a Spartanmother at Staunton. Her sons were in the army at the north, but threeyoung lads, thirteen, fifteen, and seventeen were there.

  Placing their father's old firelock in their hands, "Go forth, mychildren," she said, "repel the foot of the invader or see my face nomore."

  But Tarleton did not force the mountain pass,--the boys went on downto join Lafayette.

  From farm and forest, children and grandsires hurried to Lafayette.The proud earl retired to the sea and stopped to rest at the littlepeninsula of Yorktown, waiting for reinforcements.

  Down suddenly from the north came Washington with his tatteredContinentals and Rochambeau's gay Frenchmen, and the French fleetsailed into the Chesapeake. Cornwallis was bottled up at Yorktown.

  The boy, Lafayette, had simply put the stopper in the bottle andwaited.

  Seventy cannon rolled in on Yorktown. George Rogers Clark, all theWest, was appealing to Washington, but the great chief unmoved kepthis eye on Lord Cornwallis.

  On the 19th of October, 1781, the aristocratic marquis, who hadcommenced his career as aide-de-camp to a king, surrendered to therebels of America.

  "'Wallis has surrendered! surrendered! surrendered!"

  Meriwether Lewis and William Clark flung up their caps with other boysand shouted with the best of them, "'Wallis has surrendered!"

  After the surrender of Cornwallis, Washington and Lafayette and theofficers of the French and American armies went to Fredericksburg topay their respects to Mary, the mother of Washington. The entiresurrounding country was watching in gala attire, and among them theold cavalier, John Clark of Caroline.

  On his white horse Washington passed the mulberry trees. Quick as aflash little William turned,--"Why, father, he does look like mybrother George! Is that why people call our George the 'Washington ofthe West'?"

  A provisional treaty was signed at Paris, November 30, 1782, a fewdays after the return of George Rogers Clark from that lastChillicothe raid. Slowly, by pack-horse and flatboat, the news reachedKentucky.

  The last of the British army sailed away. Washington made his immortalfarewell, and went back to his farm, arriving on Christmas Eve.Bonfires and rockets, speeches, thanksgiving and turkey, ended theyear 1782.

  But with his return from the last scene at Yorktown, the father ofMeriwether Lewis lay down and died, a martyr of the Revolution.