University of Virginia Library

52. CHAPTER LII.

In gathering up the ends of our story, as we draw towards a conclusion,
we are forced, after the fashion of a stirring drama, to a
frequent change of scene. Accordingly, leaving Mildred and her
friends to pursue their own way until we shall find leisure to look
after their footsteps, we must introduce our reader to some new
acquaintances, whose motions, it will be seen, are destined greatly
to influence the interests of this history.

The time was about the second of October, when a considerable
body of troops were seen marching through that district which is
situated between the Allegany mountain and the head waters of
Catawba, in North Carolina. This force might have numbered
perhaps something over one thousand men. Its organization and
general aspect were sufficiently striking to entitle it to a particular
description. It consisted almost entirely of cavalry; and a spectator
might have seen in the rude, weather-beaten faces, and muscular
forms of the soldiers, as well as in the simplicity of their equipments,
a hastily-levied band of mountaineers, whose ordinary pursuits
had been familiar with the arduous toils of Indian warfare
and the active labors of the chase. They were, almost without
exception, arrayed in the hunting shirt—a dress so dear to the
recollections of the revolution, and which, it is much to be regretted,
the foppery of modern times has been allowed to displace.
Their weapons in but few instances were other than the long rifle
and its accompanying hunting-knife.

It was to be observed that this little army consisted of various
corps, which were in general designated either by the color of the
hunting-shirt, or by that of the fringe with which this cheap and

simple uniform was somewhat ostentatiously garnished. Some few
were clad in the plain, homespun working-dress of the time; and,
here and there, an officer might be recognised in the blue and
buff cloth of the regular Continental army. The buck-tail, also,
was an almost indispensable ornament of the cap, or usual round
hat of the soldiers; and where this was wanting, its place was not
unfrequently supplied by sprigs of green pine or holly, or other
specimens of the common foliage of the country.

The men were mounted on lean, shaggy, and travel-worn horses
of every variety of size, shape, and color; and their baggage consisted
of nothing more cumbersome than a light wallet attached to
the rear of their saddles, or of a meagrely supplied pair of saddle-bags.
The small party on foot were in no wise to be distinguished
from the mounted men, except in the absence of horses, and in the
mode of carrying their baggage, which was contained in knapsacks
of deerskin strapped to their shoulders. These moved over the
ground with, perhaps, even more facility than the cavalry, and
appeared in no degree to regret the toil of the march, which was
so far the lighter to them, as they were exempt from the solicitude
which their companions suffered of providing forage for their
beasts.

The officers in command of this party were young men, in whose
general demeanor and bearing was to be seen that bold, enterprising,
and hardy character, which at that period, even more than
at present, distinguished the frontier population. The frequent
expeditions against the savages, which the times had rendered
familiar to them, as well as the service of the common war, in
which they had all partaken, had impressed upon their exteriors
the rugged lines of thoughtful soldiership.

The troops now associated, consisted of distinct bodies of volunteers,
who had each assembled under their own leaders, without
the requisition of the government, entirely independent of each
other, and more resembling the promiscuous meeting of hunters
than a regularly-organized military corps.

They had convened, about a week before the period at which I
have presented them to my reader, at Wattauga, on the border of
Tennessee, in pursuance of an invitation from Shelby, who was
now one of the principal officers in command. He had himself

embodied a force of between two and three hundred men, in his
own district of the mountains; and Colonel Campbell, now also
present, had repaired to the rendezvous with four hundred soldiers
from the adjoining county in Virginia. These two had soon afterwards
fromed a junction with Colonels M`Dowell and Sevier, of
North Carolina, who had thus augmented the joint force to the
number which I have already mentioned as constituting the whole
array. They had marched slowly and wearily from the mountains
into the district of country which lay between the forks of Catawba,
somewhere near to the present village of Morgantown—and might
now be said to be rather hovering in the neighborhood of Ferguson,
then advancing directly towards him. The force of the British
partisan was, as yet, too formidable for the attack of these allies,
and he was still in a position to make his way in safety to the main
army under Cornwallis—at this time stationed at Charlotte, some
seventy or eighty miles distant. It was both to gain increase of
force, from certain auxiliaries who were yet expected to join them,
as also, without exciting suspicion of their purpose, to attain a position
from which Ferguson might more certainly be cut off
from Cornwallis, that the mountain leaders lingered with such wily
delay upon their march.

Ferguson was all intent upon Clarke—little suspecting the
power which could summon up, with such incredible alacrity, an
army from the woods fit to dispute his passage through any path
of the country; and, profiting by this confidence of the enemy,
Shelby and his associates were preparing, by secret movements, to
put themselves in readiness to spring upon their quarry at the most
auspicious moment. In accordance with this plan, Colonel Williams,
who yet preserved his encampment on the Fair Forest, was
on the alert to act against the British leader, who still marched
further south—at every step lengthening the distance between
himself and his commander-in-chief, and so far favoring the views
of his enemy. Shelby and his comrades only tarried until their
numbers should be complete, designing as speedily as possible after
that to form a junction with Williams, and at once enter upon an
open and hot pursuit of their adversary.

Their uncertainty in regard to the present condition of Clarke
added greatly to their desire to strike, as early as possible, their

meditated blow. This officer had, a few weeks before, commenced
his retreat from Augusta through Ninety-Six, with some five hundred
men, closely followed by Brown and Cruger, and threatened
by the Indian tribes who inhabited the wilderness through which
he journeyed. The perils and hardships of this retreat arose not
only from the necessity Clarke was under to plunge into the inhospitable
and almost unexplored wilderness of the Allegany, by a
path which would effectually baffle his pursuers as well as escape
the toils of Ferguson; but they were painfully enhanced by the
incumbrance of a troop of women and children, who, having already
felt the vengeance of the savages, and fearing its further cruelties,
and the scarcely less ruthless hatred of the Tories, preferred to tempt
the rigors of the mountain rather than remain in their own dwellings.
It is said that these terrified and helpless fugitives amounted
to somewhat above three hundred individuals.

There were no incidents of the war of independence that more
strikingly illustrated the heroism which grappled with the difficulties
of that struggle at its gloomiest moment, than the patient and
persevering gallantry of these brave wanderers and their confederates,
whom we have seen lately assembled in arms. History has
not yet conferred upon Clarke and his companions their merited
tribute of renown. Some future chronicler will find in their exploits
a captivating theme for his pen, when he tells the tale of
their constancy, even in the midst of the nation's despair; until fortune,
at length successfully wooed, rewarded their vigilance, bravery,
and skill, by enabling them to subdue and destroy the Tory Ascendency
in the south.

The enemy, swarming in all the strong places, elate with recent
victory, well provided with the muniments of war, high in hope
and proud of heart, hunted these scattered, destitute, and slender
bands, with a keenness of scent, swiftness of foot, and exasperation
of temper, that can only be compared to the avidity of the blood-hound.
This eagerness of pursuit was, for the present, directed
against Clarke; and it is one of the most fortunate circumstances
that belong to the events I have been relating, that this purpose
of waylaying our gallant partisan so completely absorbed the attention
of Ferguson, as to cause him to neglect the most ordinary precautions
for securing himself against the reverses of the war.

In this state of things, Shelby and his compatriots waited for
the moment when they might direct their march immediately to
the attack of the British soldier—their anxiety stimulated to a
painful acuteness by the apprehension that Clarke might be overpowered
by his enemies, or that Cornwallis might receive information
of the gathering bands, and make a timely movement to reinforce
or protect his outpost. It was in this moment of doubt and
concern that we have chosen to present them in the course of
our narrative.

The troops had halted about the middle of the day, to take some
refreshment. The ground they had chosen for this purpose was a
narrow valley or glen, encompassed by steep hills, between which
a transparent rivulet wound its way over a rough, stony bed.
The margin of the stream was clothed with grass of the liveliest
verdure, and a natural grove of huge forest trees covered the whole
level space of the valley. The season was the most pleasant of the
year, being at that period when, in the southern highlands, the
hoar frost is first seen to sparkle on the spray at early dawn. The
noon-tide sun, though not oppressively warm, was still sufficiently
fervid to render the shade of the grove, and the cool mountain
brook in the deep ravine, no unpleasant objects to wearied travellers.
Here the whole of our little army were scattered through the
wood; some intent upon refreshing their steeds in the running
water, many seated beneath the trees discussing their own slender
means, and not a few carelessly and idly loitering about the grounds
in the enjoyment of the mere exemption from the constraint of discipline.
The march of the troops on this day had not exceeded
ten or twelve miles:—they might have been said to creep through
the woods. Still, however, they had been in motion ever since the
dawn of day; and as they measured the ground with their slow
but ceaseless footfall, there was a silent disquiet and an eagerness
of expectation, that were scarcely less fatiguing than more rapid
and laborious operations.

“Cleveland will certainly join us?” said Shelby, as, in the
vacancy of the hour, he had fallen into company with his brother
officers, who were now assembled on the margin of the brook. “It
is time he were here. I am sick of this slow work. If we do not
make our leap within the next two or three days, the game is lost.”

“Keep your temper, Isaac,” replied Campbell, who, being somewhat
older than his comrade, assumed the freedom indicated in
this reply, and now laughed as he admonished the fretful soldier.
“Keep your temper! Williams is below, and on the look-out;
and most usefully employed in enticing Ferguson as far out of
reach of my lord Buzzard, there at Charlotte, as we could wish
him. Ben Cleveland will be with us all in good time: take my
word for that. You forget that he had to muster his lads from
Wilkes and Surry both.”

“And Brandon and Lacy are yet to join us,” said M`Dowell.

“Damn it, they should be here, man!” interrupted Shelby again;
“I hate this creaking of my boots upon the soft grass, as if we had
come to fish for gudgeons. I am for greasing our horses' heels
and putting them to service.”

“You were always a hot-headed devil,” interrupted Campbell,
again, “and have wasted more shoe-leather than discretion in this
world, by at least ten to one. You are huntsman enough to know,
Isaac, that it is sometimes well to steal round the game to get
the wind of them. Your headlong haste would only do us
harm.”

“You!” rejoined Shelby, with a laugh, excited by Campbell's
face of good humor. “Verily, you are a pattern of sobriety and
moderation yourself, to be preaching caution to us youngsters! All
wisdom, forecast, and discretion, I suppose, have taken up their
quarters in your wiry-haired noddle! How in the devil it came
to pass, William, that yonder green and grey shirts should have
trusted themselves with such a piece of prudence at their head, is
more than I can guess.”

At this moment a soldier pressed forward into the circle of
officers:

“A letter for Colonel Shelby,” he said, “brought by a trooper
from Cleveland.”

“Ah, ha! This looks well,” exclaimed Shelby, as he ran his
eyes over the lines. “Cleveland is but ten miles behind, and desires
us to wait his coming.”

“With how many men?” asked one of the party.

“The rogue has forgotten to tell. I'll warrant, with all he could
find.”

“With a good party, no doubt,” interrupted Sevier. “I know
the Whigs of Wilkes and Surry will not be backward.”

“From this despatch, gentlemen, I suppose we shall rest here for
the night—what say you?” was the interrogatory proposed to the
group by Shelby.

The proposition was agreed to, and the several officers repaired
to their commands. As soon as this order was communicated to
the troops, everything assumed the bustle incident to the preparation
of a temporary camp. Fires were kindled, the horses tethered,
guards detailed, and shelters erected of green wood cut from the
surrounding forest. In addition to this, a few cattle had been
slaughtered from a small herd that had been driven in the rear of
the march; and long before night came on, the scene presented a
tolerably comfortable bivouac of light-hearted, laughing woodsmen,
whose familiar habits at home had seasoned them to this forest-life,
and gave to their present enterprise something of the zest of a
pastime.

In the first intervals of leisure, parties were seen setting out into
the neighboring hills in pursuit of game; and when the hour of
the evening meal arrived, good store of fat bucks and wild turkeys
were not wanting to flavor a repast, to which a sauce better than
the wit of man ever invented, was brought by every lusty feeder
of the camp.

At sun-down, a long line of woodland cavalry, in all respects
armed and equipped in the same fashion with those who already
occupied the valley, were seen winding down the rugged road which
led from the high grounds to the camp. At the first intimation
of the approach of this body, the troops below were ordered out on
parade, and the new-comers were received with all the military
demonstrations of respect and joy usual at the meeting of friendly
bodies of soldiers. Some dozen horns of the harshest tones, and
with the most ear-piercing discord, kept up an incessant braying,
until the alarmed echoes were startled from a thousand points
amongst the hills. In spite of the commands of officers, straggling
shots of salutation were fired, and loud greetings of individual
acquaintances were exchanged from either ranks, as the approaching
body filed across the whole front of the drawn-up line. When this
ceremony was over, Colonel Cleveland rode up to the little group

of officers who awaited his report, and, after a long and hearty
welcome, announced his command to consist of three hundred and
fifty stout hearts, ready and tried friends to the issues of the war.

The force of the confederates, by this accession, now amounted
to about fourteen hundred men. It became necessary, at this juncture,
to give to these separate bands a more compact character,
and with that view it was indispensable that the command of the
whole should be committed to one of the present leaders. In the
difficulty and delicacy of selecting an individual for this duty, the
common opinion inclined to the propriety of submitting the appointment
to General Gates. A messenger was accordingly
despatched on that night, to repair to the American head-quarters
at Hillsborough, to present this subject to the attention of the
General. In the meantime, Shelby, whose claim, perhaps, to the
honor of leading the expedition was most worthy of consideration,
with that patriotic and noble postponement of self which occurs so
frequently in the history of the men of the Revolution, himself suggested
the expediency of conferring the command upon his friend
Campbell, until the pleasure of Gates should be known. The suggestion
was heartily adopted, and Colonel William Campbell was accordingly,
from this moment, the chosen leader of our gallant and
efficient little army.

On the following day the troops were in motion at an early
hour—designing to advance, with a steady pace, towards Gilbert-town,
and thence on the track of the enemy across the border into
South Carolina. In the course of the forenoon, the vanguard were
met by a small body of horsemen, whose travel-worn plight and
haggard aspects showed that they had lately been engaged in
severe service. They were now in quest of the very party whom
they had thus fortunately encountered upon the march; and it
was with a lively demonstration of joy that they now rode with
the officer of the guard into the presence of Campbell and his staff.
Their report announced them to be Major Chandler and Captain
Johnson, of Clarke's party, who, with thirty followers, had been
despatched from the western side of the Allegany, to announce to
the confederated troops the complete success of that officer's
endeavor to reach the settlements on the Nolachuckie and Wattauga
rivers. Their tidings were immediately communicated to

the army; and the deep and earnest interest which officers and men
took in this agreeable intelligence, was evinced in a spontaneous acclamation
and cheering from one extremity of the column to the other.
The messengers proceeded to narrate the particulars of their late
hazardous expedition, and fully confirmed the most painful anticipations
which the listeners had previously entertained of the difficulties,
toils, and sufferings incident to the enterprise. Clarke's
soldiers, they further reported, were too much disabled to be in condition
immediately to recross the mountain and unite in the present
movement against Ferguson; but that, as soon as they should find
themselves recruited by needful rest, they would lose no time in
repairing to the scene of action.

Towards sunset of the succeeding day, our sturdy adventurers
entered Gilbert-town. This post had been abandoned by Ferguson,
and was now in the occupation of the two staunch Whig leaders,
Brandon and Lacy, at the head of about three hundred men, who
had repaired thither from the adjacent mountains of Rutherford, to
await the arrival of Campbell and his friends. It was manifest
that affairs were rapidly tending towards a crisis. Ferguson had
hitherto appeared indifferent to the dangers that threatened him,
and his movements indicated either a fatal contempt for his adversary,
or an ignorance of the extent of his embarrassments—each
equally discreditable to the high renown which has been attributed
to him for careful and bold soldiership.