When Lord Cornwallis was on his march to Wilmington, after the battle of Guilford Court-House, passing by the residence of a planter near Cross Creek, (now Fayetteville,) the army halted. The young mistress of the mansion, a gay and very beautiful matron of eighteen, with the impulsive curiosity of a child, ran to her front piazza to gaze at the pageant. Some officers dismounting approached the house. She addressed one of the foremost, and begged that he would point out to her Lord Cornwallis, if he was there, for "she wished to see a lord." "Madam," said the gentleman, removing his hat, "I am Lord Cornwallis." Then with the formal courtesy of the day he led her into the house, giving to the frightened family every assurance of protection. With the high breeding of a gentleman and the frankness of a soldier, he won all hearts during his stay, from the venerable grandmother in her chair to the gay girl who had first accosted him. While the army remained, not an article was disturbed on the plantation, though, as he himself warned them, there were stragglers in his wake whom he could not detect, and who failed not to do what mischief they could in the way of plundering, after he had passed. 'Tis eighty-four years ago, and that blooming girl's granddaughters tell the story with grateful regard for the memory of the noble Englishman, who never forgot what was due to a defenseless homestead, and who well deserves to be held in admiration by woman.[4] How tender the light that plays round this great captain's memory! Smarting from recent virtual defeat, hurrying through a hostile country, disappointed in his expectations of receiving relief and reënforcement in this very neighborhood of Cross Creek, he is master of himself and of his army through all reverses of fortune--gentle and considerate in the midst of adversity. The recollections of that young Southern matron's grandson, Charles B. Mallett, Esq., of the great army passing so lately over the very same ground, and of their visit to his plantation, afford matter for curious consideration and comparison. These are his reminiscences: "The china and glass-ware were all carried out of the house by the Federal soldiers, and deliberately smashed in the yard. The furniture--piano, beds, tables, bureaus--were all cut to pieces with axes; the pantries and smoke-houses were stripped of their contents; the negro houses were all plundered; the poultry, cows, horses, etc., were shot down and carried off; and then, after all this, the houses were all fired and burned to the ground. The cotton factory belonging to the family was also burned, as were six others in the neighborhood of Fayetteville." I have also the statement of a near neighbor of this gentleman, John M. Rose, Esq., condensed as follows: