Calvert of Strathore | Page 9

especially noticeable. His handsome face wore a rather reckless,
petulant expression, which, however, could not conceal a certain
brightness and fire of genius that at moments eclipsed the irritable look
and rendered his countenance unusually attractive. It was Gilbert Stuart,
the young portrait painter, but recently returned from England, where
he was famed both as artist and wit. It was even said by his admirers
(and indeed Mr. Adams had but lately written it home from London)
that there his fame and following were the equal of his master's,
Benjamin West's, or even Sir Joshua Reynolds's.
The scene in Mr. Jefferson's drawing-room was becoming more and
more animated. The guests had nearly all assembled and were

thronging the parlor and great hall beneath the brilliant light of many
candles. From the music-gallery overhead the sounds of flute and violin
in tentative accord were beginning to be heard. The musicians were
some of Mr. Jefferson's slaves who had shown marked ability and
whom he himself had instructed in the art. They had proved themselves
apt pupils and could play excellently airs for the minuet and Virginia
reel. Mr. Jefferson was never happier than when Monticello was
thronged with gay dancers, nor was he an indifferent votary of
Terpsichore himself. Indeed, many were the balls and assemblies he
attended during his student days in Williamsburg, many the nights he
danced away with "Belinda" and other fair ones. And so when the
music for the irresistible Virginia reel struck up, Mr. Jefferson was first
on the floor with Miss Molly Crenshawe. They were quickly followed
by other couples, until the opposite lines of dancers extended half-way
down the sides of the long drawing-room. Up and down they went to
the gay music, under the bright light, misty with powder shaken from
flying curls.
Suddenly, as Mr. Stuart was advancing with out-stretched hands to
swing Miss Gary, there was a blare of horns and a chorus of "hellos"
from without, mingled with the sound of horses galloping up the
avenue. The dancers ceased their courtesying and stately step, the
music stopped, and Mr. Jefferson hurried to the portico in time to greet
the young Marquis de Lafayette and his escort as they flung themselves
off their hot mounts. Every head was uncovered as the young
Frenchman affectionately embraced Mr. Jefferson, and greetings and
acclamations went up from the throng of guests as they appeared at the
entrance.
'Twas not wonderful that Mr. Jefferson, like General Washington,
Colonel Hamilton, General Greene, and so many others of our
distinguished patriots, was captivated by this young nobleman, and
could the jealous ones who asserted that they were dazzled by his rank
and awed and flattered into giving him more than he merited but have
seen him in the first flush of his glory and young manhood they, too,
would have found his charm irresistible. Indeed, to Mr. Jefferson he
was always the hero, the man of genius and spotless patriotism, though

many, in after years, grew to distrust his powers and motives.
As Monsieur de Lafayette stood there at the door of the drawing-room,
smiling and bowing after his own graceful fashion, there was a bright
daring, a gay gallantry in the expression of his youthful face--he was
but six and twenty and major-general, diplomat, and friend of
philosophers--that won all hearts; and though the countenance was not
handsome, the broad, slightly receding forehead, straight nose, and
delicate mouth and chin gave to it a very distinguished appearance. The
three-cornered continental hat which he swept to the ground before the
ladies disclosed a flaming red head, the hair slightly powdered and tied
back with a black ribbon. His tall figure--he was of equal height with
Mr. Jefferson, who was over six feet--was enveloped in a light
riding-coat with short capes over the shoulders, which, when he threw
it off, disclosed to view the uniform of a major-general of continental
dragoons. Just behind him stood two of his suite, his young kinsman,
the devil-may-care Vicomte de Beaufort, and the Vicomte d'Azay, a
brave young French officer who had served with Beaufort under
Rochambeau and had been present before Yorktown.
Mr. Jefferson advanced to the centre of the room with his guests.
"My friends," he said, "this is one of the proudest and happiest
moments of my life. Monticello shelters for the first time-America's
illustrious ally and devoted soldier, the Marquis de Lafayette, and his
fellow-countrymen and officers, Messieurs les Vicomtes de Beaufort
and d'Azay. I salute them for you!" Turning, he embraced the three
young men, and then, placing his hand on the Marquis's arm, he led
him to Mrs. Carr.
"Madame," he said, "I leave the Marquis in your hands for the present."
He went back to the two young officers, and taking them each by an
arm he