At the expected time the tall, handsome, clean-shaven Colonel came out of his tent, and as he neared his charger, he was confronted by the heroic Lydia Mackey, who in a few words made known the object of her visit. He quickly replied that he was in a hurry and could not at that time stop to consider her case. She said the case was urgent; that her husband had been condemned to death and he alone had the power to save him. He replied: "Very well, my good woman, when I return later in the day I will inquire into the matter." Saying this he placed his foot in the stirrup and sprang up, but before he could throw his right leg over the saddle, Mrs. Mackey caught him by the coat and jerked him down. He turned upon her with a scowl, as she implored him to grant her request. He was greatly discomfited and angrily said he would inquire into the case on his return. He then attempted again to mount, when she dragged him down the second time, begging him in eloquent terms to spare the life of her husband. "Tut, tut, my good woman," said he, boiling with rage, "do you know what you are doing? be gone, I say I will attend to this matter at my convenience and not sooner." So saying he attempted the third time to mount, and so the third time Lydia Mackey jerked him to the ground. Holding by the sword's scabbard, and falling on her knees, she cried: "Draw your sword and slay me, or give me the life of my husband, for I will never let you go until you kill me or sign this document," which she drew from her bosom and held up before his face.
Tarleton, trembling with rage, turned to the young officer who stood close by intently watching the scene, and said: "Captain, where is this woman's husband?" He answered: "Under guard in yonder tent." "Order him to be brought here," and soon Charlie Mackey stood before the valiant Tarleton. "Sir" said he, "you have been convicted of bearing arms against His Majesty's government; worse, you have been convicted of being a spy. You have dared to enter my lines in disguise as a spy, and you cannot deny it, but for the sake of your wife I will give you a full pardon on condition that you will take an oath never again to bear arms against the King's government."
"Sir," said Charlie Mackey, in the firmest tones, "I cannot accept pardon on these terms. It must be unconditional or I must die," and poor Lydia Mackey cried out, "I, too, must die." On her knees she plead with such fervor and eloquence that Tarleton seemed lost for a moment and hesitated; then turning to the young Captain he said with quivering lips and a voice choking with emotion:
"Captain, for God's sake sign my name to this paper, and let this woman go."
With this, Mrs. Mackey sank to the ground exhausted, and Col. Tarleton rode off, doubtless happier for having spared the life of the heroic Lydia's husband.
The history of the American Revolution can hardly present a more interesting tableau than that of Lydia Mackey begging the life of her husband at the hands of the brave and bloody Tarleton, and it is probable that the "Lydia Mackey victory" was the first ever gained over the heart of this redoubtable commander, and it is very certain that Charles Mackey was the only condemned prisoner ever liberated by him without taking the oath of allegience to the Mother Country.—Mrs. F. H. Orme, Atlanta Chapter, D. A. R.
[STATE FLOWERS.]
In most instances, the state floral emblems have been adopted by the vote of the pupils of the public schools of their respective states.