Governor Henry was an acquaintance of my father and a warm friend of Colonel Morgan. It might be worth my while to ask his influence in securing my early exchange, and to let him understand how irksome to me were the terms of my parole. When so many were ready to shirk there were those who would ask nothing better than an honorable excuse to stay at home. I would see Governor Henry, and ask that he transfer me to some frontier service where at least I could help defend the Virginia border against Indians, during the months of forced inactivity against the British.
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.