Some 3,000 French soldiers were camped around Jamestown, commanded by a marquis called St. Simon who had put them, I was told, under Lafayette's leadership despite being a major general himself. Washington and his army and the other French force had not arrived, but the French fleet filled the mouth of the James and blockaded the York. Other troops were expected any day, thousands of them. Then on the morning of September 5, most of the bigger French ships sailed away, down toward the Chesapeake. No one seemed to know what was going on. All sorts of rumors spread.That afternoon, long before sunset, we heard the booming of big guns far to the east. It had to be a naval battle although it sounded like distant thunder. The British, we guessed, were coming to rescue Cornwallis. The firing continued, almost continuously, until dark. We slept very little that night, wondering whose ships would be in the rivers the next day. Sunrise found the waters empty except for the smaller French. She was the splitting image of Betty White. She was carrying a large metal bucket filled with animal feed in each hand. I started down the steps to help her.?Fiddlesticks,? she mumbled, brushing me aside, ?I’ve been doing this for over 50 years, I think I’ll manage.??Yes Ma’am,? I replied, stepping aside as she carried the buckets up the stairs and placed them on the porch.?Well,? she said, brushing her hands off and stamping her feet on the doormat, ?Come inside. Wipe your feet first.?I followed Ms. Beck inside. Hers was a two-story house built in the century prior. Inside was cozy, with knitted throws and knick-knacks as far as the eye could see. Ms. Beck invited me to sit on the soft couch in her living room.?Would you like some cocoa?? She asked, removing her tan work boots.?No thank you, Ma’am,? I replied.?All right,? she said, ?Be a dear and hand me my slippers, would you??She pointed next to me, and I picked her house slippers up from the floor. I held them out to her, and she.
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