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1Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Requires cookie*
 Title:  Mellichampe  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The battle of Dorchester was over; the victorious Partisans, successful in their object, and bearing away with them the prisoner whom they had rescued from the felon's death, were already beyond the reach of their enemies, when Colonel Proctor, the commander of the British post, sallied forth from his station in the hope to retrieve, if possible, the fortunes of the day. A feeling of delicacy, and a genuine sense of pain, had prompted him to depute to a subordinate officer the duty of attending Colonel Walton to the place of execution. The rescue of the prisoner had the effect of inducing in his mind a feeling of bitter self-reproach. The mortified pride of the soldier, tenacious of his honour, and scrupulous on the subject of his trust, succeeded to every feeling of mere human forbearance; and, burning with shame and indignation, the moment he heard a vague account of the defeat of the guard and the rescue of Walton, he led forth the entire force at his command, resolute to recover the fugitive or redeem his forfeited credit by his blood. He had not been prepared for such an event as that which has been already narrated in the last pages of “The Partisan,” and was scarcely less surprised, though more resolute and ready, than the astounded soldiers under his command. How should he have looked for the presence of any force of the rebels at such a moment, when the defeat and destruction of Gates's army, so complete as it had been, had paralyzed, in the minds of all, the last hope of the Americans? With an audacity that seemed little less than madness, and was desperation, a feeble but sleepless enemy had darted in between the fowler and his prey—had wrested the victim of the conqueror from his talons, even in the moment of his fierce repast; and, with a wild courage and planned impetuosity, had rushed into the very jaws of danger, without shrinking, and with the most complete impunity. “`Dare Gin'ral—There's a power of red-coats jist guine down by the back lane into your parts, and they do tell that it's arter you they're guine. They're dressed mighty fine, and has a heap of guns and horses, and as much provisions as the wagons can tote. I makes bold to tell you this, gin'ral, that you may smite them, hip and thigh, even as the Israelites smote the bloody Philistians in the blessed book. And so, no more, dare gin'ral, from your sarvant to command,
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