By the vigilance of Governor Nelson and La Fayette Lord Cornwallis was snugly ensconced in Yorktown. A dark cloud hovered over his military fame. Awful forebodings haunted his blood-stained imagination. Retributive justice pierced his guilty conscience with a thousand viper stings. The cries of widows and orphans—the curling flames of hospitable mansions—the sweeping destruction of villages and towns—the dying groans of innocent victims—the damning fruits of his savage career, preyed upon his agonized soul like a promethean vulture. The die was cast. The siege was commenced. Washington was there. At the head of the Virginia troops was Governor Nelson—cool, brave, fearless, vigorous. His native town—his own mansion and properly were now to be razed to the ground. At first he observed the American batteries carefully avoid his house. The principal British officers had made it their head quarters for this reason. Learning it was out of respect for him he directed the gunners to point their cannon at his mansion. The first discharge after this order sent several shot through it—killed two of the officers and frightened the rest from a table well spread with edibles and wines. They were at dinner and feared no danger. The result of the siege was glorious and closed the war of the Revolution.
The following extract from the general orders of the illustrious Washington of the 20th of October 1781 will best inform the reader of the estimate placed upon the services of Governor Nelson at that memorable siege.
"The General would be guilty of the highest ingratitude—a crime of which he hopes he shall never be accused, if he forgot to return his sincere acknowledgments to his excellency Governor Nelson, for the succors which he received from him and the militia under his command, to whose activity emulation and bravery the highest praises are due. The magnitude of the acquisition will be ample compensation for the difficulties and dangers they met with so much firmness and patriotism."
The fatigues of this campaign and his arduous gubernatorial duties proved too much for the physical powers of Governor Nelson. He again sunk under disease and resigned his office on the 20th November 1781 and retired from the public arena to private life. He spent the remainder of his days on a small estate he had gathered up from the wreck of his princely fortune, situated at Offly in the county of Hanover. His health continued to decline until the 4th of January 1789 when he was numbered with the dead. His obituary, written by his bosom friend Col. Innes, fully portrays the character of this devoted patriot and will best close this annal.
"The illustrious Nelson is no more! He paid the last debt of nature on Sunday the fourth day of the present month at his estate in Hanover. He who undertakes barely to recite the exalted virtues which adorned the life of this great and good man will unavoidably pronounce a panegyric upon human nature. As a man, a citizen, a legislator and a patriot, he exhibited a conduct untarnished and undebased by sordid and selfish interests and strongly marked with the genuine characteristics of true religion, sound benevolence and liberal policy. Entertaining the most ardent love for civil and religious Liberty, he was among the first of that glorious band of patriots whose exertions dashed and defeated the machinations of British tyranny and gave to united America freedom and independent empire. At a most important crisis during the late struggle for American Liberty, when this State appeared to be designated as the theatre of action for the contending armies, he was selected by the unanimous suffrage of the legislature to command the virtuous yeomanry of his country. In this honourable employment he remained until the end of the war. As a soldier he was indefatigably active and coolly intrepid. Resolute and undejected in misfortune, he towered above distress and struggled with the manifold difficulties to which his situation exposed him with constancy and courage. In the memorable year of 1781 when the whole force of the southern British army was directed to the subjugation of this State, he was called to the helm of government. This was a juncture which indeed 'tried men's souls.' He did not avail himself of this opportunity to retire in the rear of danger, but on the contrary took the field at the head of his countrymen and at the hazard of his life, his fame and individual fortune. By his decision and magnanimity he saved not only his country but all America from disgrace if not from total ruin. Of this truly patriotic and heroic conduct the renowned commander-in-chief, with all the gallant officers of the combined armies employed at the siege of York, will bear ample testimony. This part of his conduct even contemporary jealousy, envy and malignity were forced to approve and this, more impartial posterity, if it can believe, will almost adore. If, after contemplating the splendid and heroic parts of his character we shall inquire for the milder virtues of humanity and seek for the man, we shall find the refined, beneficent and social qualities of private life, through all its forms and combinations, so happily modified and united in him, that in the words of the darling poet of nature, it may be said,
'His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him, that nature might stand up
And say to all the world—this is a man.'"
JAMES OTIS.
Death is a source of terror to most persons. It should be a source of anticipated joy to every reasonable being. Death is viewed as the great enemy of man. He is our best friend. Many Christians tremble at the thought of being folded in the arms of this friend who performs for us the last—the greatest kind office that can be awarded this side of eternity. Why should we treat death as an enemy? Is he an enemy who delivers us from pain, disappointment, folly, error, misery and all the ills of our earthly pilgrimage? Is he an enemy who transfers us from the land of delusive dreams, the region of phantoms and corroding cares—to an Elysium of substantial joys and enduring bliss? It is a libel on death to call him a foe—a king of terrors—an enemy.
Frail man comes into this world crying—cries on through life and is always seeking after some earthly object he intends to christen happiness when obtained. When he reaches the bubble it often bursts at the slightest touch—it never imparts unalloyed comfort. He is often mourning over the misfortunes that lie thickly along the road of life. He is forced to learn there is nothing pure but Heaven. Within the restless mortal body there is an immortal soul that requires more than earth can give to satisfy its lofty aspirations. This soul hails death as the welcome messenger to deliver it from its ever changing decaying prison of clay—called man—on which time wages an exterminating war until death breaks the carnal fetters—sets the prisoner free—opening the door of immortality—returning the redeemed spirit to its original abode of refulgent glory to go no more out for ever. To be terrified at the thoughts of death is to endure unnecessary fear and add to the discomforts of life. We should be in constant readiness to give this friend a hearty welcome. All who are wise will do so.