A little maid of Virginia

I . N

I

I t.

I

/ i t

.r

A i

4 .* r «

• I

I .

t .

j ii

She Urged Mary Lou to Eat

OF

Virginia

BY

Alice Turner Curtis

w

AUTHOR OF

The Little Maid’s Historical Series Stories of the Civil War, etc.

COPYRIGHT 1922 BY THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY

A Little Maid of Virginia

Made in the U. S. A.

CCJciAescoai

I

Introduction

Rose Elinor Moore was eleven years old when her little cousin, Mary Lou Abbott, canie to live with her at the beautiful home of her parents near Yorktown. This was in the spring of 1781 during the War of the Revolution. The two little girls had many exciting adventures and witnessed a great deal of the action which took place there. They even met and talked to the Marquis de Lafayette. In the fall of 1781 Rose Elinor and Mary Lou with Mr. and Mrs. Moore drove to Yorktown to witness Cornwallis’s surrender. There they saw Washington, Lafayette, Rochambeau, Von Steuben and Knox awaiting the arrival of the British generals. These are only a few of the interesting things which occur in “ A Little Maid of Virginia.”

News From Yorktown .

•

. 211

XX. Cleopatra”

•

. 221

I /

J

•f

V

t'i< u t

I t I

V

I i

) i

' 1 ' /

I

I <

Illustrations

PAGE

She Urged Mary Lou to Eat . . Frontispiece

“If You Call OR Scream, ‘Twill BE THE

Last OF You” 97

In a Moment the Letter Was in Her Hand . 164

A Little Maid of Virginia

I

I

' I

I t

' t

J t r.'j

,1

, I f ll'

■ f s

• l

. X iNf i ', Vi

A Little Maid of Virginia

Chapter I Rosecrest

Rose Elinor Moore had just passed her eleventh year when her little cousin, Mary Lou Abbott, came from a town beyond the Blue Ridge, in the Valley of Virginia, to live with the Moores at Rosecrest, their beautiful home on the York River.

The house was built on a hill not far from the river; and its fine gardens with tall cedar trees, and box-lined paths, had roses of many colors whose fragrance drifted in through the open doors and windows of the house. Rose-bushes climbed up the porch and around the windows; delicate yellow roses, that first blossomed with Virginia’s April buttercups; beautiful white Yorks; rich damask roses, and sweet hundredleafs. Rose Elinor often wondered if she had 9 been named “ Rose ” on account of the garden, or if the place had been named “ Rosecrest ” because her own name was Rose. She liked to think that the place had really been named for her; but she had never asked, half -afraid that she would discover that she had been called Rose because of the beautiful garden.

From the top of the house, where there was a broad flat space, over which was stretched a canvas awning, one could look up and down the broad York River for miles and miles, and here in the early evenings Mr. Moore and his visitors often sat, watching the white-sailed ships passing up the broad stream or down to the sea.

Rose thought this the most pleasant part of the big house. She had her own chair and footstool there, and a square wooden box in which to keep her playthings, and her work-basket; and she was sitting there one May afternoon when her mother told her about little Mary Lou Abbott, whose own mother was dead, and whose father was a soldier in Washington’s army, for it was the spring of 1781, when British forces under Lord Cornwallis were advancing into Virginia.

Rose knew that Mary Lou was two years younger than herself, that her eyes were blue and her hair yellow. She knew that since Mary Lou was two years old she had not had a home of her own, but had lived first in the home of one relative and then in the home of another. “But now,” said Mrs. Moore, “ she is to stay with us, unless the British take Yorktown and destroy Rosecrest ; and you must treat her as if she were your younger sister.”

“ Is she to live here always? ” asked Rose, her face clouding.

“ This is to be her home, just as it is yours, Rose,” said Mrs. Moore; “and now I must go down-stairs and tell Mammy Zella that after to-day she will have two little girls instead of one to take care of.”

“ Is she to have my mammy, too? ” exclaimed Rose, jumping up from her seat; but her mother had already vanished down the twisting staircase which led from the roof to the upper hall and did not hear the question ; and if she had looked back and had seen Rose stamp her little slippered foot and shake her head so fiercely that her black curls danced wildly about her flushed face, she would indeed have thought that some wicked fairy had taken possession of her small daughter.

‘‘ I don’t want her! I don’t want her! ” Rose whispered angrily. “ Father and Mother and Mammy will all like her just as much as they do me; and Mother says that I must share everything I have with her, because Mary Lou hasn’t any home. But she could stay with Aunt Pamela, who hasn’t any children and is an old maid. That’s where Mary Lou ought to stay,” and after a moment she whispered softly: “ If Mary Lou Abbott was a Tory, if she wanted England to conquer America, I know Father would send her straight back to Aunt Pamela ! I’m sure he would. And even if Aunt Pamela is poor and old, I guess she could take care of one little girl. Perhaps I’ll find out that Mary Lou Abbott is a Tory, after all,” and now Rose was smiling happily. As she opened the wooden box and took out the work-bag of blue-and-silver striped silk, that her mother had given her on her eleventh birthday, she began to think of some way in which she could convince her father that the little cousin, who would reach Rosecrest the next day, was disloyal to the American cause.

All the household at Rosecrest did their best to spoil the little girl, and her quick temper and selfishness were passed over as trivial faults. So it was not to be wondered at that Rose Elinor resented sharing her home with a cousin whom she had never seen.

It was late the next afternoon when one of the queerest vehicles that had ever entered the fine driveway which led to the main entrance of Rosecrest came slowly up the hill. An ancient gray donkey, whose harness had been mended with strings, drawing a two-wheeled wagon that was shaped like a box, and in which was seated a small girl, whose yellow head was iust visible above the top of the sides of the wagon. An old negro, perched on a chair that was evidently nailed to the front of the wagon, was urging the mule on, calling out: “ Gee dup, Solomon! Ain’ yo’ old ’nuff yit to un’stan’ wot I tells ye? ” and he would then bring down the slender switch lightly on Solomon’s tough hide.

“It’s old Pete!” exclaimed Mr. Moore. “ What was Aunt Pamela thinking of to let him drive little Mary Lou in that wagon,” and as he spoke Mr. Moore ran down the drive and the old mule came to a full stop, and stood with drooping head as its driver stepped down from his seat, and saluted the master of Rosecrest:

“ Yas, sah! Thar’ we is. Miss Mary Lou an’ me, Massa Moore. We’s rid de twenty-five mile since daybreak,” and the old darkey looked reproachfully at Solomon as he added; ‘‘ Dat mule is sho’ too lazy to trabbel.”

Mr. Moore looked anxiously at the little girl in the wagon. “ You must be very tired, my dear,” he said kindly, “ but perhaps you would rather walk up the driveway than ride any farther in that imcomfortable carriage. I am your father’s cousin, and am glad to welcome you to Rosecrest.”

The little girl stood up and Mr. Moore lifted her over the side of the wagon, and noticed that she was taller than Rose, and that she looked a little frightened and unhappy.

“ Your Cousin Rose is waiting to see you,” he said, smiling down at the little girl whose face was nearly hidden from sight by a sunbonnet of checked blue gingham, and whose queerly-shaped blue cotton dress hung straight from her shoulders. As Mr. Moore looked at his small visitor his eyes softened.

“ Poor child,” he thought, pitifully, remembering how Mary Lou had never known the care and affection of a mother, and that she had been an unwelcome member of the household of her Great-aunt Pamela Cutting; and he resolved that henceforth Mary Lou should be treated with the same affection that was lavished on his own little daughter.

Uncle Pete and Solomon ” had vanished down the road to the stables, where they were warmly welcomed, — ^and where “ Solomon ” promptly decided to remain for life, before Mary Lou and Mr. Moore reached the wide porch where Mrs. Moore and Rose were waiting. Rose wore one of her prettiest dresses. It was of pale pink muslin, with tiny white embroidered rosebuds, and a sash of soft white silk. Her stockings were of the finest white cotton, and her ankle-ties of patent leather. A broad ribbon of pink held her dark curls in place, and as she stood looking down at the forlorn little figure that came stumbling up the steps it was no wonder that Mary Lou’s eyes filled with admiring surprise, and that she thought her Cousin Rose the most beautiful creature that she had ever beheld.

Rose’s face softened at Mary Lou’s look of adoring admiration. After all, she thought, perhaps this new cousin might prove just one more person who would do all she could to make Rose

Elinor Moore happy. For the moment she decided to give Mary Lou a chance to remain at Rosecrest; the newcomer was so shabby and forlorn that even Rose Elinor’s selfish plans toward her were for the moment forgotten; and as her glance met Mary Lou’s she put out both her hands and clasped her cousin’s thin little fingers.

As the two girls stood hand in hand Mr. and Mrs. Moore smiled at each other in delight. They felt sure that the cousins would be friends, and that their own little daughter would be happier through having Mary Lou as a companion.

“Oh! Where is my box!” Mary Lou exclaimed suddenly, drawing her hands from her cousin’s, and looking about with anxious eyes.

“ Where did Uncle Pete go? My other dress is in the box, and all my things ! ” she continued, evidently ready to cry at the thought of their possible loss.

“ Your box is safe, dear. It will be in your room,” Mrs. Moore assured her. “ And remember that now you are our little girl, and that we mean you to be very happy at Rosecrest.”

A little flush crept over the thin little face, and Rose came a little nearer and whispered: “ Mary Lou, aren’t you hungry? ”

“ Yes,” responded Mary Lou nodding vigorously. “ I haven’t had anything to eat since morning. Uncle Pete lost our lunch-basket.”

“ There! I knew she was hungry! ” declared Rose Elinor, and seizing her cousin’s hand she drew her into the big hall and toward the dining-room calling: “Mammy Zella! Mammy Zella! Clippy ! Clippy ! ” and instantly Clippy, a stout negro girl, appeared, quickly followed by Mammy Zella, and both the negro women hurried off to carry out their young mistress’s demand that food: “ Cakes and milk and bread and honey, and chicken and everything,” should at once be brought to the dining-room for Mary Lou.

It was Rose who untied the strings of the ugly sunbonnet and smoothed back Mary Lou’s straggling locks, who drew a chair close to a round table near the long, open window that overlooked the garden and nearly pushed her cousin into it; and then stood close beside her when Clippy and Mammy Zella brought the food, and urged Mary Lou to eat.

Chapter II Great-aunt Pamela

Miss Pamela Fairfax Cutting was a sister to the mother of Mr. Stephen Moore, and the gi’eat-aunt of Rose Elinor and Mary Lou. She lived with a few faithful servants in a shabby old house about twenty-five miles distant from Yorktown; and since the beginning of the Revolutionary War she had kept closely at home. When her nephew Fairfax Abbott had joined Washington’s army she had refused to ever see him again ; but she had taken his motherless little daughter, Mary Lou, into her home, and when she declared that she would make “ a real Tory ” out of her little great-niece, none of her loyal American relatives paid any attention to what they called “Aunt Pamela’s silly talk.” But Miss Pamela Cutting meant exactly what she said.

Mary Lou’s first lessons were the names and deeds of England’s kings and queens. She was 18

A LITTLE MAIL told the story of brave Sir Walter Raleigh, and that it was he who had named the colony Virginia; and Great-aunt Pamela impressed ui)on her little niece that all England’s laws for governing her American Colonies were just and right; and not until Mary Lou went to Rosecrest did she ever hear the real cause of the conflict between England and America. In fact, Mary Lou was a little Tory; just as Rose Elinor, before her cousin arrived at Rosecrest, had hoped, in order that she might prove unwelcome and be sent back to Great-aunt Pamela.

Great-aunt Pamela had lived alone for so many years that she knew but little of how other people carried on their lives. She thought that little girls should always be quiet; that they should be content to sit quietly indoors and learn difiicult lessons, and be very proud to sew neatly, to knit, and to help with the lighter household tasks, so that when they grew up they would be accomplished housekeepers.

She thought it was wicked to buy ribbons and sashes and muslin dresses for a little girl; and, although she did not mean to be harsh, she was constantly reproving Mary Lou for the way she spoke, walked, entered a room, or made a curtsey;

so that when Mary Lou came to Rosecrest to live she was shy, awkward, and afraid to speak.

Her father had written to Mr. Moore asking him to give his little daughter a home, and had also written Aunt Pamela that Mary Lou was to be sent to Rosecrest, for he did not want her to remain in a Tory household ; and while Great-aunt Pamela declared it was the best news she had received for many a day, she nevertheless felt it very unfair and cruel that she must give up the little girl. Mary Lou had wept bitterly at the thought of going to a new home. Before she had lived with Great-aunt Pamela she had lived with relatives of her mother’s, where she had been unkindly treated, and it seemed to her that there was no place in all the world for a motherless child whose father was an American soldier, and she feared to go to a new place.

But her welcome to Rosecrest had been like entering a new world, and when she opened her eyes on the morning after her arrival her first thought was of her beautiful Cousin Rose Elinor. She looked about the big pleasant chamber, half fearful that she had been dreaming and might find herself in the tiny, closet-like room at Great-aunt Pamela’s, and gave a sigh of content as she realized that the roses nodding in at the open window were real roses; their delicate fragrance filled the air, and Mary Lou recalled the beautiful garden through which the old mule “ Solomon ” had dragged her clumsy wagon on the previous afternoon, and again she sighed with content that her journey had ended so happily.

As she lay smiling at the thought of the warm welcome she had received, the chamber door was gently pushed open and Rose Elinor stood in the doorway looking anxiously toward the bed where Mary Lou lay, and as she noticed her cousin’s welcoming smile Rose Elinor’s own face beamed with delight. But she did not speak, and as she advanced into the room Mary Lou saw that Rose Elinor’s arms were full, and she sat quickly up in bed and watched her wonderingly.

Rose Elinor approached a big cushioned chair and very carefully lowered her burden into it; then she turned toward the bed and nodded triumphantly.

‘‘ For you, Mary Lou! All my white clothes, and stockings and shoes. Jump up and try them on, and if my things do not fit you Clippy or Mammy shall take us to Yorktown and see if we cannot buy things there for you.”

In a moment Mary Lou was out of bed and, gazing at Rose Elinor with adoring eyes, she exclaimed: “ You are like a fairy, or an angel, who brings good gifts. You look like an angel, but you are a real girl, aren’t you? ” and her eyes had such a pleading look, her voice was so serious, and she seemed so pitiful and alone, that again Rose Elinor’s heart was touched, and she put her arm about her cousin and kissed her thin cheek.

“ Of coui^se I’m real. I’m Rose Elinor, and I am going to give you everything you want, everything! ” she declared earnestly, and when an hour later Mammy entered the room she held up both hands in surprise, for Rose Elinor had tugged the oval tin bathing tub in from her own room, had called Clippy to fill it with warm water, and had helped bathe Mary Lou, and was now vigorously brushing her cousin’s hair; while Clippy, with open mouth and rolling eyes, was vainly endeavoring to pull on to Mary Lou’s feet a pair of white open- worked cotton stockings.

It was quickly discovered that Rose Elinor’s clothing would not fit her cousin, but Mammy promptly announced that seams could be let out, and tucks taken, so that Mary Lou could wear Rose Elinoi’’s dresses and skirts until new ones could be made for her, but the shoes and stockings were too small; so although Mary Lou came down to breakfast smiling with delight in a ruffled muslin dress, her well-brushed yellow hair tied with a pink ribbon such as she had never dared even to hope to possess, she was obliged to wear her own clumsily made shoes and coarse knit blue stockings.

‘‘ Clippy can take us to Yorktown right away after breakfast,” Ex)se Elinor announced, as she heaped spoonfuls of honey on Mary Lou’s plate. “You know. Mother, that the storekeeper has rows of slippers for little girls, and Mammy must manage to have stockings ready for her.”

Mrs. Moore agreed to the plan, well pleased to see Rose Elinor so happily occupied, and thinking that her little daughter had the warmest heart in the world to be so anxious to bestow gifts on the cousin whom she had never before seen.

Rose Elinor could hardly spare time to eat her own breakfast, she was so eager to make sure that Mary Lou had the best of everything; and even the servants wondered what had come over their young mistress, for Rose Elinor was usually whining out demands for some dainty, or finding fault because her breakfast was not more quickly served. But now all her attention was fixed on her cousin, and she was quick to notice how straight Mary Lou held herself, and how daintily she clasped her fork and used her spoon. Great-aunt Pamela had been very stern with the little girl in regard to these things. “ Ladies do not loll on the table, or make a noise with their knives, or ask to be served,” she had constantly reminded her niece, and Mary Lou’s table manners were perfect.

“ Rose Elinor seems to have taken full charge of her cousin,” said Mr. Moore smilingly, as Rose clasped Mary Lou’s hand and led her from the dining-room.

“ Indeed she has; she just informed me that Mary Lou must have two pairs of kid slippers, two hats, and a pink muslin exactly like her own,” responded Mrs. Moore, with evident satisfaction. “ And Mary Lou seems to think that whatever Rose Elinor says settles every question.”

“ Well, it is fortunate for both of them that Rose Elinor is pleased. I hope poor little Mary Lou did not hear too much of Aunt Pamela’s disloyal talk. It would indeed be a pity if the child has been taught to become a traitor to the cause of America’s freedom, for which her own father is fighting,” said Mr. Moore gravely.

But Mrs. Moore declared that Mary Lou was too young to understand the meaning of the word “ Tbry.” She did not know that Aunt Pamela had convinced the little girl that “ Tory ” meant a brave and loyal person who defended England’s acts, and that Mary Lou would be proud indeed to be called by that name.

The week of Mary Lou’s arrival at Rosecrest was the very week when Lord Cornwallis and his troops arrived at Petersburg, Virginia, determined to conquer the state. Mr. Moore had heard this news with grave fears; he was himself an American soldier, but had not yet recovered from wounds received when Savannah was captured by the English in 1778, and now could only serve the American cause by giving liberally, and by the earnestness and frequency of his efforts to uphold the justice of his country’s right to govern itself, and Rose Elinor had been quite right when she had told herself that not even a little girl who was a Tory would be a welcome guest at Rosecrest.

But while Mr. Moore’s thoughts were sadly troubled over Lord Cornwallis’s arrival on Virginia’s soil, Rose Elinor and Mary Lou were happily driving off toward Yorktown, with Clippy on the front seat of the wagon beside the Moores’ trusted coachman, Black Jasper, who often drove Rose Elinor and Clippy about the pleasant country roads.

Rose Elinor sat close beside Mary Lou and now and then looked a little anxiously at her cousin, as if to make sure that Mary Lou was enjoying the drive. It was perhaps the first time in all her life that Rose Elinor had thought of the happiness of another person before her own.

The road led through cultivated fields and woods of lofty pines, hollies, laurels and tall oaktrees; now and then there were glimpses of York River, and very soon they reached the main street of the village of Yorktown, that was built on high ground on the south bank of the river. They drove past the “ Swan Tavern,” and Rose Elinor called to the coachman to stop at “ Mr. Mason’s store,” and Jasper, with a fine flourish of his whip, brought his horses to a standstill directly in front of a long, one-storied building in whose windows were displayed a variety of articles, at which Mary Lou gazed with admiring eyes.

“ Oh ! Rose Elinor ! There are shoe^ and slippers, and there is a doll, and see the fine tin pans and the blue pitcher!” she exclaimed as Clippy helped her to descend from the high wagon, and the two little girls entered the shop.

“ There are not many things, Mary Lou,” Rose Elinor responded, “ but we can surely get you some shoes,” and the two cousins entered the shop.

The storekeeper had no trouble in fitting Mary Lou to a pair of fine kid slippers with tiny silver buckles and to a pair of ankle-ties whose straps buttoned about her ankles, just as did those worn by Rose Elinor. Then the two little girls wandered about the long, narrow shop looking at the various things that were for sale, while Mr. Mason, the old storekeeper, explained that it was now very difficult to get anything.

“ The British have shut off our supplies for so long that I have only my old stock, but their day is nearly over and very soon American ships will sail the seas in safety and bring us all we lack,” he said, smiling down at the little girls.

“ My father says there are no Tories in Virginia, and that Lord Cornwallis will be driven into the sea,” declared Rose Elinor, at the same time pointing to a doll that stood in the corner of the window and added: “ I think my little cousin would like that doll.”

Mary Lou fairly gasped with delight as the old storekeeper smilingly handed her the doll. It was not a very beautiful doll, and its muslin dress was rather faded and dingy, for it had stood in the window for many weeks, but to Mary Lou, who had never possessed a doll, it seemed lovely beyond words and she clasped it eagerly.

“ Mammy will make suitable clothes for it,” said Rose Elinor carelessly.

“ Oh, Cousin Rose Elinor, I will make things for it, all its things,” declared Mary Lou earnestly; “and may I not hold it until we get home? You see, I never held a doll before! ”

“ Never held a doll! ” exclaimed Rose Elinor. “ Well, I do think Great-aunt Pamela is a hateful, stingy old Tory not to have given you a doll. And to think I have four! And you shall have them all, Mary Lou; for of course now that I am eleven years old and nearly a young lady, I do not want to play with dolls. You shall have them this very afternoon.”

While the two little girls were talking about dolls the old storekeeper had been searching about the shelves and now came toward them carrying a small, square brass box. He set it down on the coupter and lifted the cover, and Rose Elinor, as well as Mary Lou, exclaimed in delighted admiration: “Beads!” For the box was divided into compartments, and each of these was filled with shining beads. There were white beads of such crystal clearness that they resembled heaped-up dew-drops; there were beads of so vivid a green that they looked like bits of young birch leaves after a rain, and blue beads of every shade from the pale color of forget-menots to the deep blue of springtime skies. There were beads as golden as sunlight, pale pink and deep red beads ; in fact, there was hardly a color or a shape in which beads are made that the brass box did not contain.

“ Perhaps you may like to make necklaces for your dolls,” said the storekeeper smilingly.

“ It is a fine present, Mr. Mason, and my cousin and I thank you very kindly,” Rose Elinor said, and Mary Lou repeated the words after her, quite sure that whatever Rose Elinor said was the best possible way of expressing appreciation.

The two little girls started for home well pleased with their morning’s excursion. Mary

Lou held the doll closely in her arms and the package containing her new slippers rested beside her, while Rose Elinor held the box of beads.

“We will begin to string necklaces this very afternoon,” said Rose Elinor. “ Oh, Mary Lou, before you came I hoped that you might turn out a Tory ! ” she added suddenly, looking kindly at her sober-faced little cousin, and feeling ashamed that she had even wished that Mary Lou should not stay at Rosecrest.

Mary Lou’s blue eyes shone happily and she smiled radiantly at her cousin, quite sure that what she was about to say would make Rose Elinor even more pleased with her.

“ Of course I am a Tory, Cousin Rose Elinor. I am loyal to the sacred cause of England and King George,” she declared in the very words Great-aunt Pamela Fairfax Cutting had taught her.

Chapter III A Young Tory

“ Oh, Mary Lou! ” Rose’s voice was nearly a wail, and Clippy turned quickly in her seat to see what was the trouble with her young mistress, but before she could speak Rose Elinor exclaimed: “ I nearly dropped the box of beads,” as indeed she had, in her horror and surprise at Mary Lou’s declaration that she was a Tory.

Clippy muttered to herself that “ I knowed dat chile wouldn’t get home ’thout wailin’ ’bout som’- t’ing,” for Rose’s unexpected good-nature since her cousin’s arrival had surprised all the servants, and Clippy had confided to Mammy Zella that such behavior was too good to last.

But Clippy’s anxious look had added to Rose Elinor’s trouble over her cousin’s words, for she had instantly resolved that no one must discover that Mary Lou was a traitor to America’s cause. It would not do for anyone belonging to Rosecrest to hear the little girl declare herself a Tory.

“ It’s all Great-aunt Pamela’s fault,” said 31

Rose Elinor, and Mary Lou looked at her wonderingly.

“ I suppose you mean my not having a doll,” she responded questioningly, “ but Great-aunt Pamela thought only of what was good for me; she used to say so every day.”

“Well, I despise her!” said Rose Elinor wrathfully, and her black eyes seemed to snap with anger, and Mary Lou’s thin little face again grew anxious and sorrowful.