It will doubtless seem a matter for wonderment to those who may read
this chronicle, that it was no more difficult, in those days, to secure
an interview with the Governor of the State of Virginia than with any
other gentleman in the Commonwealth. The morning after my arrival in
Williamsburg, I betook myself to the Governor's mansion, clanged the
iron knocker, and was shown by the negro doorkeeper straight into the
Governor's office. He sat before a square deal table, littered with
documents, inkhorns, and the like, while under his hand, on a small
tray, lay a pile of letters, one of which he was engaged in deciphering.
I made my bow in the doorway, and with my cocked hat upon my heart,
after the latest manner, announced myself:
"Your Honor's most obedient servant, sir! My name is Donald McElroy,
late captain in Colonel Morgan's rifle company."
Governor Henry rose and came to meet me, a friendly smile upon his lean,
dark, beak-nosed face, his hand cordially outstretched. "Then you are
one of the notable marksmen who whipped us the gallantly led English
regulars at Freeman's Farm--closing thereby the trap in which Burgoyne
was taken, a few days later. Let me shake your hand, sir, and thank you
in the name of Virginia. Gates seems minded to claim all the glory, and
that asinine congress still allows him to throw dust into their half
shut eyes. But, history, sir, will be no more deceived than are General
Washington, and others, and the debt of honor due Colonel Morgan and his
riflemen will be paid in full by posterity, Captain McElroy."
Governor Henry's manner of saying this had far more effect than the mere
words. His head went up, and his whole face beamed with lively
enthusiasm, while his deep voice rang thrillingly. Wheaton had told me
of Charles Fox, and how he made any man think what he pleased, more by
the kindling power of his rich, finely modulated voice, than by his
logic, or bursts of eloquence. Now, I understood what had seemed
exaggeration in Wheaton; now I knew why those simple words, eloquent
only with feeling, spoken by Mr. Henry before the Virginia assembly, at
a surcharged moment, had set them aflame with patriotic fervor.
So proud was I again of my recent service under Morgan, that I forgot
the depression and self-abasement I had suffered these last few days,
and found it easy to sit down before Governor Henry, and give him an
account of all that had happened to me since I was taken prisoner on the
battle field of Chestnut Hill--leaving out, of course, the name of Nelly
Buford, and hiding as well as I could the part a woman had played in my
downfall. He guessed, I thought, much of what I tried to conceal, though
his words in no way intimated that he did so. He told me candidly, that
he thought I had been wrong to linger with my kind entertainers after my
wound was healed, but added this remark of sympathy which warmed my
heart anew:
"Yet, who knows but that I'd have done the same in like circumstances.
Your conduct, sir, was less wise than natural. However, a whole year's
absence from your command, without privilege of exchange, meantime,
seems unwarranted by the harm you may be able or inclined to do them."
I thanked Governor Henry for his sympathy, and then unfolded to him my
wish to spend this forced interval of absence from the regular army in
frontier service, where I might still defend my state, and wipe from my
conscience the reproach of having proved myself unworthy.
"If that be your wish, Captain," the governor answered heartily, "I have
in waiting the very service you are looking for; and moreover, we sorely
need men for the enterprise--as great a one and almost as difficult, to
my thinking, as the undertaking of Jason and his Argonauts. Have you
ever chanced to meet George Rogers Clark, one of the pathfinders in the
Kentucky wilderness, a friend of Daniel Boone?"
"I have not had that honor, sir."
"Then it shall be yours, this evening, and an honor you may well esteem
it. He is yet a young man, but he has the daring of a Cortez. He has
vast schemes abrewing which, if successful, mean great things for
Virginia, and timely aid to the cause. His plans, however, are yet
secret, and must remain so, except in so far as he may see fit to
enlighten you should you enter his service. Meet him here this evening,
and, if Clark consents, you shall be present at our conference. I
demand, you see, no credentials. Most men I can read in an hour's talk;
and, moreover, I know the Scotch Irish breed--rugged, plain, a little
hard and narrow, perhaps, but also steadfast as the rocks which rib the
mountains they delight to dwell among."
"Though you but give proper praise to the worthy breed from which you
also have partly sprung, Governor Henry, I still owe you warm thanks for
saying it," I answered; "yet with your permission I'll leave my
credentials for Mr. Clark's inspection," and I took from my pocket my
captain's commission, a personal letter from General Arnold, commending
my bravery at Freeman's Farm, and a copy of one written my father by
Captain Morgan.
Impatiently I awaited the chance to learn more of this great adventure,
and not a moment behind the hour named, presented myself. Yet Clark was
before me. The first look into each other's eyes fixed, I think, our
mutual confidence, and with our first handclasp began a life long
friendship.
George Rogers Clark had the look and bearing of a man born for deeds of
great emprise. He was half an inch taller than I, measuring in his
moccasins six feet three and a half inches, and not one of Morgan's
riflemen was tougher of muscle, suppler of limb. His face, lighted with
glowing brown eyes, was singularly handsome, at once winning and
commanding. It indicated a lofty mind, and a sweet nature, but also a
reckless boldness of disposition. Better than all, for the fulfilling of
his purposes, there was boundless confidence in himself and his
resources, and a buoyant hopefulness of disposition; and these were
united with a daring will which but strengthened under difficulty.
"Captain McElroy, I introduce you to Captain George Rogers Clark. He is
quite ready to take you into his service if you can promise to join him
heart and soul in this bold enterprise he is determined upon," said
Governor Henry.
"Yes, Captain McElroy," and Clark grasped my hand, bestowing his winning
smile upon me. "I am satisfied that I can trust you, and you may be of
great assistance to me. Could you enlist forty or fifty volunteers in
your valley, think you?"
"If there be left that many able bodied men, if the service be one of
Virginia's need or honor, and there be no rumor of an Indian uprising
afloat."
"Our enterprise will put an end to all fear of Indian forays, by driving
them to the Mississippi. Our nominal purpose, indeed, is to turn back
the gathering forces of the Northwest savages, who are planning a
surprise for Bonnesville, Harrodsburg and Logan's Fort, and who, after
devastating Virginia's outposts, expect to over-run your valley, and
exterminate the settlements of the Blue Ridge. Now, while all the able
bodied men are engaged in the war upon the coast, is the red man's last
opportunity to regain his lost hunting ground. Does the plan to meet
them more than half way, to do ourselves the surprise act, appeal to
you, Captain McElroy? Is it likely to appeal to your neighbors in the
valley?"
"Next to fighting our invaders, it is the service I shall like best,
Captain Clark; and there are those of my neighbors more likely to
respond to this call upon their rifles than to any other. The happy
results of Point Pleasant have taught us 'tis best not to wait for the
savages, but to go to meet them."
"That's encouraging talk, Captain," and Clark's voice rang more
heartily, and his face sparkled with animation and humor, "and you may
be doubly grateful before we see the end of our expedition; though we go
against the Indians, and shall cheerfully fight them if there be need,
our real object"--his voice sank to a whisper--"is to strike the forts
at Kaskaskia and Vincennes. They are weakly garrisoned and unsuspecting,
and their French inhabitants, I hear, are much disaffected to British
rule. We have but need to appear before them with a small, resolute,
well-armed force to compel capitulation, after which we can form
alliance with the French, intimidate the Indians, and claim all the Ohio
Valley as Virginia territory. By doing so we will not only more than
double the dominion of our State, and give a blow to autocratic power,
but will secure safety to the pioneers of Virginia and Kentucky, and
save from butchery many a helpless family."
"But my parole, Governor Henry," I said, turning to him with rueful
countenance.
"You are not violating its terms, Captain McElroy, by accepting service
with Clark, since there's small chance of a clash with the British
before your parole has expired."
"Then what can I do, Captain Clark, to forward your bold enterprise?" I
said, turning again eagerly to my new leader.
"First you can sit here and listen, while Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Wythe, Mr.
Mason, Governor Henry and I devise ways and means that will make known
to you the details of our plan. You can then hasten home to enlist men
for an advance against the Indians. Later--"
"That's Jefferson's voice now," interrupted the Governor, "and the
others are with him," and hastening to the street door with a flaring
candle in his hand, he lighted the group through the passage way to our
presence.
Mr. Jefferson had once dined at our house, and I remembered him as an
elegant and gracious gentleman, though somewhat over dignified and
sententious. Colonel Mason, and the learned and able Wythe, I saw now
for the first time. Since he had written our "Declaration of
Independence" Mr. Jefferson's fame was world-wide, and Colonel Mason, as
the author of our "Bill of Rights," and our State's Constitution, was
not less favorably, though perhaps less widely, known; while Mr. Wythe's
reputation as jurist had already extended beyond America.
As behooved in such company, I was a silent listener, learning much of
Colonel Clark's plans, and even more of the difficulties in the way of
them. It seemed to me a rash and dangerous undertaking but not without
chance of success.
Governor Henry, I found, was not a whit behind Clark in zeal for the
enterprise; nor was Mr. Jefferson much less ready to give the plan full
countenance, though he did not expect from the expedition, even if
successful, the vast results that Clark reckoned upon so confidently.
Mr. Wythe showed the caution to have been expected from his calm and
logical mind, suggesting difficulties at every turn, and urging
forethought in the plans, while Colonel Mason spoke infrequently and
with less of flowing readiness than any of the others, but most
pointedly and justly, first on the side of caution, and then on the side
of boldness, as Clark's enthusiasm and strongly presented arguments
gradually won him to our side.
Governor Henry's fiat had already gone forth, nor could he be persuaded
to modify it, that the men for the expedition must be drawn from the
counties west of the mountains. If the seven companies, of fifty men
each, which was the minimum force demanded by Clark, could be raised in
the counties of Frederick, Augusta, and Fincastle, Clark was welcome to
enlist and use them--otherwise the undertaking must be given up. But
Clark was no wise minded to give up and, after accepting the Governor's
terms, turned to me to know what I thought might be done toward raising
a company in Augusta.
"It has been more than two years since I left home," I answered, "and I
cannot speak with assurance, but I believe one or more companies of
fifty might be raised, if I am allowed to say that the settlements in
Kentucky are threatened, and that our object is to turn back an Indian
invasion."
"You can say that with truth, Captain McElroy. I shall rely upon you for
at least one company."
"I'll do my best, Captain Clark. I continue my journey homeward
to-morrow, and shall begin the work of enlistment at once."
"You ride my way, Captain McElroy, I think," said Mr. Jefferson
pleasantly, "and I also go to-morrow; with your consent we'll keep each
other company."
I thanked him, and we fixed sun rise as the hour for our departure from
the Bell Tavern.
"You are the son of Justice McElroy, of the Stone Church neighborhood, I
suppose, Captain? The name is not a common one even in your valley of
Macs."
"I am his only son, sir."
"Once when you were a lad I dined at your house; you scarcely remember
the occasion, I suppose?"
"Perfectly, sir, and I should have recognized you anywhere. We cherish
with pride the memory of your visit."
Mr. Jefferson was evidently pleased--few men are so great as to be
indifferent to appreciation.
"By the way, Clark," continued Mr. Jefferson, "the ex-scout hermit we
were talking of this morning lives on McElroy's direct homeward route,
near the top of the south slope of the mountain between Monticello and
Staunton. It might be well to engage McElroy to see him; that would save
delay and me a journey at a busy season."
"I am at your service, Mr. Jefferson," spoke I. Then made my bow and
left them. They might wish to talk matters over before taking me further
into their confidence.