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Updated: June 1, 2025
General Foster had decided by this time to move his troops to Dandridge for the twofold purpose of threatening the enemy's left and of getting into a locality where we could again gather subsistence from the French Broad region. Accordingly we began an advance on the 15th of January, the cavalry having preceded us some time before.
For an hour and a half we walked briskly and talked along lines usually self-revealing; and by the time the hotel was again reached I was quite satisfied concerning a complicated situation that needed skilful steering to avoid a dangerous and disastrous smash-up. "Can't I go home with you, Miss Dandridge?" Tom twisted his hat nervously. "It's too late for you to go so far by yourself.
His recent letters had spoken of the state of peaceful tranquillity in which he was living; those now written from his rural home show that he fully participated in the popular feeling, and that while he had a presentiment of an arduous struggle, his patriotic mind was revolving means of coping with it. Such is the tenor of a letter written to his wife's uncle, Francis Dandridge, then in London.
Jack, will you do two things for me?" "All of them but two." "When the Baroness von Ritz insists on her intention of leaving us just at the height of all our happiness I want you to hand her to her carriage. In the second place, I may need you again " "Well, what would any one think of that!" said Jack Dandridge. I never knew when these two left us in the crowd.
It is just the colour of your gown." "Then it must be beautiful," said Miss Dandridge, "for this rose-coloured muslin came from London. Ah, you looked so angry and so beaten on Wednesday, when you came back from Charlottesville!" "I was not angry, and I was not beaten." "Fie! You mean that your brother was." "I mean nothing of the kind!" cried the younger Cary hotly.
When I was thrown at that same turn coming home from a wedding, I believe I was in bed for a month! Allow me to present you to my nieces Miss Churchill, Miss Dandridge. My poor wife, you know, never leaves her chamber. Mr. Ned Hunter, Mr. Rand. Mr. Fairfax Cary I think you know, and my brother Edward." The young men's greeting, if somewhat constrained, was courteous.
In that very year, 1759, Thomas Jefferson, then a lad of sixteen, and on his way to the College of William and Mary, happened to spend the Christmas holidays at the house of Colonel Nathan Dandridge, in Hanover, and there first met Patrick Henry. Long afterward, recalling these days, Jefferson furnished this picture of him: "Mr.
Good-evening, Mr. Rand!" "Good-evening to you, Major Churchill," said Rand. "Good-evening, Mr. Cary. Good-evening, gentlemen!" "Here are Eli and Mingo with the horses," said Fairfax Cary, his back to the Republican. "Let's away, Ludwell!" Colonel Churchill laughed. "Fontenoy draws you too, Fairfax? Well, my niece Unity is a pleasing minx yes, by gad! Miss Dandridge is a handsome jade!
General Parke and General Granger had ridden over from Strawberry Plains and reached Dandridge in the afternoon.
"He does read Greek," said Miss Dandridge severely, "and 'ignorant fellow' is the last thing that could be applied to him. Did you ride over from Greenwood to be scornful?" "I rode over to be as meek as Moses and as patient as Job " "They were never my favourites in Scripture." "Nor mine." He closed the book, swung his arm, and Pope crashed into a lilac bush.
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