Miracles and Massacres

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Book: Miracles and Massacres Read Free
Author: Glenn Beck
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Colonel Banastre Tarleton does not choose to quarrel with the differences.” He paused to stifle a little chuckle—one tinged more with cruelty than wit.
    Tarleton poked the fire and a dozen embers raced up into the night sky. “They say that to ask you,” he pointed to the soldier, “and my other Green Dragoons for surrender is futile. I hear they now call it ‘Tarleton Quarter.’ ”
    The soldier sat motionless as Tarleton described how the enemy had turned the phrase back on the Legion. When encountering surrendering British troops, the Colonials took no mercy. Hardly offended, Tarleton told the young man and several others who’d now gathered at the fire that he took pride in the enemy adopting the term and tactic. “Imitation, after all, is the greatest form of flattery.”
    The dragoon laughed nervously until Tarleton pulled him up short with an order, raising his thunderous shout so that all around himmight hear. “Now, let us show them through action whether the words they say about Banastre Tarleton are indeed true. To Charlottesville!”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Several miles up the road from where they’d rested, Colonel Tarleton came across a caravan of twelve American supply wagons with clothing and arms headed for South Carolina. He took great pleasure in burning it.
    As flames filled the Piedmont sky, Tarleton hoped the winds would move the thick smoke away from Monticello. He wondered aloud to a lieutenant whether Jefferson’s servants would be taking turns throughout the night watching guard. Or perhaps Jefferson thought the grounds of his cherished Monticello provided ignorant, blissful security. “Let them sleep,” he said, watching another supply wagon smolder.
    Soon after daybreak, Tarleton and his soldiers stopped at Castle Hill, home of Dr. Thomas Walker, who had once been guardian to the young, orphaned Thomas Jefferson. Tarleton arrested two legislators in their nightshirts and grinned at the thought that the day’s successes had only just begun. Before leaving Walker’s large estate, Tarleton ordered Dr. Walker and his wife to prepare a breakfast for the hungry British Legion. With full stomachs and renewed vigor, Tarleton and his Dragoons resumed their race toward Charlottesville. But his full belly came at a high price: the cost of precious time lost in the pursuit of his great prize, Thomas Jefferson.
    Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello Estate
    4:30 A.M .
    â€œFaster, Sallie!” Jouett flashed through the final line of trees and across the meadow in front of Monticello. “Go!” Moments later he leapt from the horse and, without bothering to hitch her, sprinted down the brick path to the front door of Jefferson’s home.
    â€œArise! Arise!” Jouett pounded on the heavy door just before sunrise. “Bloody Tarleton and his Green Dragoons are not far behind!”
    A servant appeared and rushed Jouett into the home, where Jefferson met them in the spacious front hall. “What is it?” Jefferson demanded,adjusting his silken night robe as he entered. But his concern for his own disheveled appearance vanished at the sight of the bloody and battered Jouett. “My Lord, what is it? You’ve escaped capture?”
    â€œNo, sir,” gasped Jefferson’s visitor. “I’m Captain Jack Jouett. Sixteenth regiment of the Virginia militia.”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œGovernor, a large force of British is approaching Charlottesville. They’re led by Tarleton!”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œHow many in his command?” Jefferson asked, his manner growing more grave with each syllable.
    â€œTwo hundred, maybe more. Most of them Green Dragoons.”
    â€œHave they arrived in town?” Jefferson asked as his houseguests, woken by the commotion, began arriving in the hall.
    â€œI cannot say. I’ve ridden through the

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