The boy's book of battle-lyrics a collection of verses illustrating some notable events in the history of the United States of America, from the Colonial period to the outbreak of the Sectional War |
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 | The boy's book of battle-lyrics |  |
THE BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN.
THE FIGHT OF THE MOUNTAINEERS.
From the narrative of a survivor of the gallant men who participated in the fight at King's Mountain I wrote the ballad, and aimed to give it the simple style of the narrator. But the old man, perfectly truthful in intent, fell into some errors. He omits all mention of the M'Dowells. Colonel M'Dowell was not in the battle. He objected to fighting a battle without a general officer, and he was despatched in search of one. While gone, the rest elected Colonel Campbell to command, and got to work. Major M'Dowell however remained, and commanded the regiments. He calls Shelby, Evan Shelby. But Evan Shelby, who was Isaac's father, and who distinguished himself at Point Pleasant, was not at King's Mountain.
The official account of the battle transmitted to Gates, and probably the correct one, is as follows:
“On receiving intelligence that Major Ferguson had advanced up as high as Gilbert Town, in Rutherford County, and threatened to cross the mountains to the Western waters, Colonel William Campbell, with four hundred men, of Washington County, of Virginia, Colonel Isaac Shelby, with two hundred and forty men from Sullivan County, of North Carolina, and Lieutenant-colonel Sevier, with two hundred and forty men, of Washington County, of North Carolina, assembled at Watauga, on the twenty-fifth day of September, where they were joined by Colonel Charles M'Dowell, with one hundred and sixty men, from the counties of Burke and Rutherford, who had fled before the enemy to the Western waters. We began our march on the twenty-sixth, and on the thirtieth we were joined by Colonel Cleaveland, on the Catawba River, with three hundred men, from the counties of Wilkes and Surrey. No one officer having properly the right to the command-in-chief, on the first of October we despatched an express to Major-general Gates, informing him of our situation, and requested him to send a general officer to take command of the whole. In the mean time, Colonel Campbell was chosen to act as commandant, till such general officer should arrive. We marched to the Cowpens, on Broad River, in South Carolina, where we were joined by Colonel James Williams, with four hundred men, on the evening of the sixth of October, who informed us that the enemy lay encamped somewhere near the Cherokee Ford, off Broad River, about thirty miles distant from us. By a council of principal officers, it was then thought advisable to pursue the enemy that night with nine hundred of the best horsemen, and have the weak horse and foot men to follow us as fast as possible. We began our march with nine hundred of the best men about eight o'clock the same evening, and, marching all night, came up with the enemy about three o'clock P.M. of the seventh, who lay encamped on the top of King's Mountain, twelve miles north of the Cherokee Ford, in the confidence that they could not be forced from so advantageous a post. Previous to the attack on our march, the following disposition was made: Colonel Shelby's regiment formed a column in the centre on the left; Colonel Campbell's regiment another on the right, with part of Colonel Cleaveland's regiment, headed in front by Major
“Of the regulars, one major, one captain, two sergeants, and fifteen privates killed; thirty-five privates wounded, left on the ground not able to march; two captains, four lieutenants, three ensigns, one surgeon, five sergeants, three corporals, one drummer, and forty-nine privates taken prisoners.
“Loss of the Tories: two colonels, three captains, and two hundred and one killed; one major and one hundred and twenty-seven privates wounded, and left on the ground not able to march. One colonel, twelve captains, eleven lieutenants, two ensigns, one quartermaster, one adjutant, two commissaries, eighteen sergeants, and six hundred privates taken prisoners.
“Total loss of the enemy, eleven hundred and five men at King's Mountain.
“Given under our hands at camp.
I.
To tell you of the day,
When, in his lusty manhood's prime,
To fight he took his way.
Deep in the Baptist Vale,
While sinks the sun within the west,
And light begins to fail—
Before the set of sun,
I'll tell you how by mountaineers
The battle-field was won.
II.
Cornwallis settled down;
And Forguson twelve hundred led,
In pride from Gilbert Town.
And only Marion's band
Lay, but a remnant of itself,
Within the low swamp-land.
And few expected dawn,
For strength had fled, and fire was dead,
And even hope was gone.
To Campbell and Sevier—
“Shall base maurauders revel thus,
As we sit idle here?
Went Forguson, I learn;
Should men take heart to deal a blow,
He never would return.
Our forces shall combine,
And, ready for the battle, cross
The Carolina line.”
“I'm with you there, old friend;
Though borne by numbers to the earth,
We will not break nor bend.
I volunteer to bring,
All loyal to their country's cause,
Though rebel to the king.
Who serve for love, not hire;
Each prompt to mark the foeman dark,
And drop him when they fire.”
“Three hundred I can bring
To meet these savage myrmidons
Of George, our former king.
Each uses rifle well;
Nor sabre-stroke, nor musket-ball,
Upon our ranks may tell.
They fear no haughty foes—”
'Twas thus he boasted of his band,
And I was one of those.
With Campbell and Sevier,
Against the common enemy
Would lead the mountaineer.
New flinted every one,
Right soon a thousand brave and strong
Were gathered at Doe Run.
When once they left the glen,
And mounted on their own good steeds
Rode sixteen hundred men.
The centre column led;
And with him Shelby's regiment,
With Shelby at its head.
The right obeyed Sevier;
And like the sky which bent o'erhead
Each brow was calm and clear.
Was passed both left and right—
“Tie overcoats, pick touch-holes, prime,
And ready be for fight!”
And cleft our force in three;
And then dismounting, to the limbs
Tied horses silently.
Pressed eager to the fight,
While round the base, to gain his rear,
The wings swept left and right.
With firm and steady tramp,
On pressed our three divisions towards
The centre of their camp.
And comrades at my side,
Whom I had known for many years,
Were stricken down, and died.
A younger man than I—
His hot blood spurting in my face—
Fell at my feet to die.
Whose house was nigh to mine,
Pierced by a bullet, fell and left
A wife and orphans nine.
A boy scarce past sixteen—
I knew his mother ere his birth,
And few so fair I've seen—
Who loved her husband well,
And mourned, nor ever wedded more,
When he in battle fell.
And thus to him she said,
“Return with honor to your home,
Or stay among the dead.
Of my declining years;
That I am loath to part with you,
Witness these bitter tears.
Sweep hill and valley o'er,
Go! drive them from these mountains free,
Or see my face no more!”
Lie, bloody, on his cheek;
I caught his eye, and stooped to hear
The words that he might speak.
If you survive the day:
And say her darling son was still
The foremost in the fray.
I yield, and trust that He
Forgives my sins for sake of Him
Who died upon the tree.
When youthful hopes are bright,
And youthful blood flows full and free,
To bid the world good-night.
And leave me here to die—”
His pulses stopped, I turned away,
I had no time to sigh.
I joined the strife again,
Nor paused to watch the fight around
Till I three foes had slain—
One for my neighbor old,
And one for him with golden hair
That lay so stark and cold.
We answered not at all;
But still with steady coolness poured
Our rain of rifle-ball.
As clearly as a drum—
'Tis Forguson's—“Charge bayonet!
And drive the rebel scum!”
III.
The British soldiers came,
When on their wall of bristling steel
We hurled our scorching flame.
And then they broke and fled;
But Forguson re-formed their ranks,
Proud riding at their head.
In laurel roughs at bay,
And at their front, compact and firm,
The Cleaveland men gave way.
Sevier came back again,
And up the ridge the Britons ran,
Thinned by the leaden rain.
They wheeled and charged again,
O'er rock and hillock, log and stone,
And through the heaps of slain.
They charged in wrath once more,
Though every step they made in front
Was in their comrades' gore.
Sevier kept firing fierce,
And through our solid centre there
They vainly strove to pierce.
And rang our wild hurra;
For well we knew that they would lose
And we would win the day.
Who bade his men stand fast;
And, turning, tried another charge,
The fourth one and the last.
The hour of fury came;
And driving them within their lines,
We hemmed them round with flame.
The ground with blood was wet;
And gouts of gore hung dripping there
From knife and bayonet.
As when the fight began,
Kept plying trigger busily,
And no one missed his man.
Around the loyal band;
Still fell our long-pent hate upon
The spoiler of our land.
His voice is stern and low—
“To saddle, horsemen! Sabres draw!
And charge upon the foe!”
For, as upon his horse
Or wounded or a corse.
The soldier of the crown
Contrived to save one section there,
And bade it ride us down.
And down came Forguson:
We held our fire, for well we knew
Our work was nearly done.
A stream of bold and brave;
We met them like the solid rock
That breaks to foam the wave.
Was only heard at first,
Then came a sound as sharp and loud
As though a mine had burst;
Backward the charge rebounds,
And down falls gallant Forguson
With seven mortal wounds.
Ere we could fire again,
Up went the white, appealing flag—
None raised to us in vain.
And down their muskets fell,
While rang our cry of victory
Through nook, ravine, and dell.
From rise till set of sun,
By hardy western mountaineers
The battle-field was won.
| The boy's book of battle-lyrics | |