Listen my children,
for you haven’t yet,
heard of the ride,
of Jack Jouett.1
On the evening of June 3rd, 1781, a young man sat in a humble tavern in Louisa County, Virginia - a rural county located in the Virginia Piedmont celebrated today as the Commonwealth’s wine country. A handsome sort, at twenty-six years and standing 6’4 and 200 pounds, it would have been difficult for Jack Jouett to fade into the background easily that evening - but some records indicate he had already retired for the evening when the British arrived. A little over four months hence, the surrender of Lord General Charles Cornwallis’ troops in Yorktown would mark the beginning of end of British rule in North America. For this evening, the young man sat likely thinking about the British troops moving through central Virginia on their way to ignominy. Records are unclear but suggest he was a member of the Virginia militia; in any case these events were on the minds of every Virginian man of fighting age.
Jack Jouett chose the Cuckoo Tavern over his father’s Swan Tavern in downtown Charlottesville for his repast that evening. Some records indicate that his father had at one time - and perhaps still (although it may have passed by then to one Edmund Pendleton) - owned the Cuckoo as well. Other records indicate he was acting at the time as an overseer at his father’s slave labor camp2 at nearby Walnut Hill. Whatever his reasons, Jack’s choice this evening turned out to be quite fortunate for Virginia and the young nation, as Governor Thomas Jefferson and several legislators were meeting in Charlottesville, having fled Richmond in the face of Cornwallis’ invasion of that capital city on that man’s path to infamy. The Virginians who fled to Swan’s Tavern (Jack Jouett Sr, proprietor) included Patrick Henry, Richard Henry Lee, Benjamin Harrison, and General Thomas Nelson Jr. - Nelson would become the next Governor of Virginia, scheduled to take office on June 12th. Governor Jefferson headed home to Monticello. They all reached Charlottesville by May 24, forty miles northwest of the Cuckoo Tavern.
1781 was a particularly difficult year for Governor Jefferson. British operations into Virginia began in earnest that year, beginning with a raid led by none other than Benedict Arnold, and Jefferson failed to raise much of a defense of the city. Cornwallis was determined to subjugate Virginia in order to deal a crippling blow to the Revolutionaries. He was pursuing Marquis de Lafayette north of Richmond, and came upon an intercept3 indicating the Governor and his legislature had decamped to Charlottesville. Jefferson’s term as governor had expired by June 2nd, but he remained a traitor to the crown, and his arrest and prosecution would have been a symbolic blow to the cause. While Cornwallis’ destination was the Tidewater region of Virginia, home to Yorktown, he sensed an opportunity to decapitate the already weakened state government and ordered Lieutenant Colonel Banastre Tarleton to ride to Charlottesville and seize the Virginia leadership.
Tarleton is worth a pause here. In combat, the notion of “quarter” refers to the mercy shown surrendering adversaries. Pirate movies often contain the phase “no quarter!” as evidence of brutal intentions. “Civilized” combat demanded the providing of quarter when an enemy admits defeat. During the battle of Waxhaws, Tarleton (referred to as “my hunting leopard” by Cornwallis) became famous when American forces laid down their arms in an attempt to surrender, but apparently the British continued their assault unmoved by the accepted gentlemanly approach to warfare. The phrase “Tarleton’s quarter” came to mean “no quarter.” He was also present at Yorktown, surrendering his forces along with Cornwallis. The National Park Service offers this lovely aside:
In the tradition of the day, American officers hosted the defeated Cornwallis and other British officers at their respective tables. But no American invited Tarleton nor would any eat with him. Tarleton asked if the omission was accidental, and he was told that, indeed it was not, the snub was indeed due to his past atrocities.
But first: Tarleton had an appointment with fate in pursuing Governor Jefferson. Charlottesville and the Governor’s home at Monticello lay 70 miles to the west of Richmond, and after a hard ride, Tarleton pulled up to the Cuckoo Tavern that Sunday evening to offer his men three hour’s rest before completing the remaining 40 miles into Charlottesville. Jack Jouett noticed the men at 9:30 pm and immediately understood the danger that lie ahead for the Virginia leadership. He quietly saddled and bridled his bay mare Sallie, and, realizing he could not risk taking the one established road, instead he headed for Charlottesville along an overgrown and little-used path known as Mountain Road. Today, this partially paved road today bears the name West Jack Jouett and East Jack Jouett, bisected by route 15, or James Madison Highway.
What we know: Captain Thomas Walker was briefly arrested by Tarleton that night as the British moved towards Charlottesville. What is referenced in legend and at least one book:4 Jouett stopped at Castle Hill, home of Captain (Dr.) Thomas Walker and his wife to warn them of Tarleton’s advance. When Tarleton predictably arrived at Castle Hill to arrest the good captain Walker, his wife insisted on offering tea and a brief respite to the British. This legend is in part an oral history, passed on to my Bride as a descendant of the unfailingly polite and cunning Mrs. Walker. The only reference I was able to find was a pause of a half-hour to “refresh the horses,” based on the personal account of the hunting leopard. This same source directly refutes the oral history:
Various legends have grown up around this halt at Castle Hill. The principal one says that Dr. Walker craftily offered Tarleton an elaborate breakfast, the consumption of which so delayed the Briton that Jack Jouett was able to beat him to Monticello and Charlottesville. Another legend has British dragoons stealing, one after the other, two breakfasts which had been prepared for their commander and Dr. Walker telling Tarleton that he would have to post a guard on the kitchen if he desired nourishment. This was done, the story continues, and the cook and attendant flunkies finally served the third breakfast to the Colonel intact. But by the time he had eaten it, Jefferson and most of the legislature had escaped. There are even some ridiculous references in one modern account to “potent mint juleps, Sally Lunn and waffles.”
If breakfast was consumed at Castle Hill by any Briton in the early morning of June 4, 1781, we may be reasonably sure that there was no such menu as this. Aside from the fact that juleps and other such sybaritic provender5 at so early an hour seem absurd under the circumstances, Tarleton would hardly have been stupid enough to fall into so obvious a trap. His own statement that he halted only half an hour at Castle Hill to rest his horses impresses one as far more authentic, although in his account he may have shortened the actual time somewhat in order not to appear lacking in zeal.
Jack Jouett arrived in Charlottesville at dawn, stopping at Monticello to warn Jefferson personally, and continuing into downtown Charlottesville to raise the general alarm.
There is more to the story, as Paul Harvey may offer, regarding Jefferson’s somewhat laid-back response to the danger, believing he had more time than he did. But the lack of urgency on his part takes nothing away from Jack Jouett’s ride that night. Largely because of his alarm, Jefferson went on to become the third President of the United States, something he famously ordered be omitted from his gravestone:
Here was buried Thomas Jefferson, Author of the Declaration of American Independence, of the Statute of Virginia for religious freedom & Father of the University of Virginia.
Faculty and students at the University of Virginia still refer to the institution’s founder as “Mr. Jefferson.” Jack Jouett went on to serve in Kentucky’s legislature after supporting the fight for Kentucky statehood. He died in 1822 and is buried on his farm.
While you may not have heard of this brave patriot, he appears in Jefferson’s writings and within the General Assembly of Virgina:
The General Assembly of Virginia was deeply sensible of its debt to Jack Jouett, for a few days afterward, on June 15, it adopted the following resolution:
Resolved : That the executive be desired to present to Captain John Jouett an elegant sword and pair of pistols as a memorial of the high sense which the General Assembly entertain of his activity and enterprise in watching” the motions of the enemy’s cavalry on their late incursion to Charlottesville and conveying to the assembly timely information of their approach, whereby the designs of the enemy were frustrated and many valuable stores preserved.
Perhaps the immediate impact of his ride, somewhat dampened by Jefferson’s relative lethargy in response, is what helped him to become far more obscure than his Northern counterpart. But on this June 3rd, perhaps we can honor the effort, no less honorable and courageous than the one honored by Mr. Longfellow.
The subtitle is inspired in part by the History Channel’s usage, but mostly by a lovely brewery/winery/cidery located on East Jack Jouett in Zion Crossroads, Virginia. If you’re in the area, stop by tomorrow for a special celebration of Jack Jouett’s ride.
With apologies to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
I embrace this term in place of the more common “Southern plantation.”
It calls to mind a certain cigar wrapper years later that may have factored in the Battle of Antietam.
Richard Dillon, Meriwether Lewis: A Biography (Great West Books, Lafayette, CA, 2003), p. 10.
As I am often moved to observe: this phrase would be a great name for a band.
Thank you for this interesting piece of history!