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LEGENDS

Mar of f nhjjetthtue,

THE EAELIEE SETTLEMENTS

WEST.

By T. MARSHALL SMITH.

XonanHb, li[.
J. .F. BRENNAN, PUBLISHER,
1855.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, on the 10th day of January, 1855,
By J. F. BRENN AN,
In the Clerk's Office of the United States District of Kentucky.

CHERISHED MEMORY
OP THE
COMPANION OF MY EARLIEST YOUTH,
AND MY FRIEND THROUGHOUT A SOMEWHAT EXTENDED LIFE, THE
HON. JAMES T. MOREHEAD,
NOW NO MORE AN INHABITANT OF EARTH.
THIS BOOK
IS DEDICATED,
AS A TESTIMONIAL OF THE ADMIRATION,
AMD TOST APPRECIATION OP HI8 LIFE
OF ENLIGHTENED AND VIRTUOUS DEVOTION
TO THE
SERVICE OF HIS COUNTRY.

PREFACE.

The author of the book here presented to the pub
lic, has often heard persons regret that histories, which
profess to treat of our revolutionary struggle, or of the
no less arduous and dangerous conflicts attending the
settlement of the vast wilderness of the West, contains so
little of the persona) history of many of the actors.
Historians, for the most part, confine themselves to the
notice of what the world calls important events— the
movements of armies, the result of battles, the conclusion
of treaties, and the general legislation of the State. If
they ¦ notice' individuals at all, it is, generally, only those
the most distinguished, the most highly and extraordina
rily endowed by nature, the most fortunate in position, or
who, attended by fortuitous circumstances, have been ena
bled to perform some astounding feat or semi-miracle ;
while their superiority consists in nothing, in point of real
worth or merit, above that of the thousands of faithful
and honest cotemporaries around them.
Historians, necessarily, even those most highly esteem
ed, are but the mere chroniclers of periods, men, and events
of nations, generalized. And it is admitted, if all the in
cidents of all who have acted and preceded us were re
corded in histories, then, indeed, could no man, however
long his life might be protracted; read more than one half.
But we are persuaded histories would furnish clearer con
ceptions of past events' and prove more instructive and at

VI PREFACE.
the same time more interesting, if they indulged more in
personal sketches.
Biography to the writer has always possessed peculiar
charms, and it, indeed, may often be regarded as the most
instructive branch of history. Erom his boyhood and his
earliest recollection, to stand or seat himself at the foot
of a venerated revolutionary father and listen to his un
varnished tales of the War of Independence, the battles
in which he participated, and the thrilling scenes he wit
nessed, or sit by the side of an old soldier or pioneer of
the West, detailing his own and his neighbors adventures,
wants, privations, sufferings, and hair-breadth escapes
from the furious monsters of the forest, and the no less
wily and ferocious savages that everywhere pervaded the
vast wilderness around them, he has been entranced,, and
felt, even then, a young heart expand, and new impulses
for manly action result in making him a better and a
happier boy, and in riper years a better and happier
man. Such, we believe, are among the natural and le
gitimate effects of history — telling upon the hearts and
lives, of the young, the middle-aged, and the old in ali
ranks of society. To accomplish such end has been to a
great extent our aim in this little book, — the chief fruition
hoped for during our labors.
It is not proposed to make this work a chronological or
regular statistical history, of the revolution,, or of the ear
liest emigrations to the West. Very creditable produc
tions for this purpose have already appeared. Here are
given only sketches of the acts and lives of those as they
have stood connected with the facts narrated of, and hy
the individuals whose biographies are introduced. The
fafits are vouched for as given by old soldieus, their wives,

PKEFACE. VII
pioneers aud their cotemporaries ; confided in and of
whose narrations memoranda have been made by the
author at various times within the last forty years, but
who now are believed to be all in their graves. Such
memoranda were originally made for his own entertain
ment ; but now, as they are believed justly to belong to the
history of his beloved country, and would otherwise sleep
with the dead in the grave forever, they are freely here
recorded.
T. M. S.
Louisville, January, 1855.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
Col. Davidson sets forth to Charlotte to attend the Convention of
the Whigs of Mecklenburg and of other portions of the Colony
of North Carolina — Meets with two Scotch Tories, John and
William Harpe — Their Conversation and Doctrines — Col. Da
vidson and Family—The Harpes and Family. - - 17

CHAPTER II.
Col. Davidson meets with and renews his acquaintance with
Capt. J. Wood- — Spends the night at his house. - - 26

CHAPTER III.
Col. Davidson resumes his journey to. Charlotte, accompanied ^
by Capt. Wood — .Meet with Dr. D. Caldwell, Dr. E. Bavard
and other Patriots, destined for the same place and the Meck
lenburg Convention — Discussion upon the causes of the Rev
olution — Brief biographical sketches of Drs Caldwell, Bavard
and others. - - - - 32

CHAPTER IV.
Mecklenburg Convention — How organized — Speeches by Rev.
H. J. Balch, Mr. Kennon and E. Bavard. ... 45
CHAPTER V.
Declaration of Independence and other resolutions passed by
the Convention — Character and patriotism of the women of
the Revolution. - •  54

CHAPTER VI.
Original letters of Presidents, John Adams and Thomas Jeffer
son, on the subject of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Inde
pendence in 1775, and' as identical in substance with that of
1776.  - 61

X CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
Proceedings of the Whigs in the colony of North Carolina —
Questions asked and answered as to the causes of the tyranny
that overrides the nations of the earth, and how the freedom
of a nation can be effijcte-ds. , r -.-¦*'<• "r, . -r ¦ - 68

CHAPTER VIII.
A somewhat minute examination of the principles and spirit of
the Whig and Tory population in t^e country, generally, and
particularly in North Carolina — The Scenery of North Caro
lina,' &o. - - - ' - - 81

CHAPTER IX.
The Whig women of North Carolina — A few toucning biograph
ical sketches of them during the war — Uncle Dan and his
colored company, with his old "ooman" at her cabin — Maj-
Kidd and his corps on a trip to Ma}. John Adair — A hard
fought battle- between two African slaves, Caesar and John,
servants of Lawrence Smith, against five Tories and one In
dian — They effectually defend their mistress and daughters,
killing two of the enemy and desperately wounding athird. - 91

CHAPTER X.
Rev. James Frazier makes appointment to preach — On h£s, way
to church rescues Miss Happy Thompson from being precipi
tated over the Poip.on.kee tjridge-<-Her acknowledgmentsof the
service — Mr. Frazier's peculiar courting sermon — The re
turn party's comments thereon. - 107

CHAPTER XI.
Thoughts on the designs of Providence in opening up the way
from the old world to the new — The almost miraculous pre
servation and prosperity given to the earlier emigrants from
Europe, &c. — Some touches of the history of the revolution in
the middle cqlpnies, particularly in North Casqlm— The con
flicts, with the T.qries— Their abduotiap, of tfeee. young ajo,dj
beautiful Whig ladies — The pursuit and execution of a num^
ber by Capt. John Wood and others. - - 116
CHAPTER XII.
The attack upon and murder of Capt. John Wood, by twelve
Tories, sent forth by Col. Ferguson, of the British army to
destroy him — His burial by his son. - - 135

CONTENTS. XI
CHAPTER XIII.
Parson Frazier again-i-His return to the neighborhood of Elder
Brame — His courtship and marriage with the rich, young,
and accomplished Virginia lady, Miss Happy Thompson, and
their settlement upon a portion of her fine estate at Hillsboro,'
North Carolina, together with other interesting touches of
Virginia gallantry and courtship in the Old Dominion. - 143
CHAPTER XIV.
Frank Wood, after the burial of his murdered father, endeavors
to find his mother and sisters — Uncle Dan and his brave Afri
can troops are introduced at his cabin — Frank returns home,
and immediately afterwards enters, upon his first campaign in
the army of the revolution — He joins the command of Gen.
Morgan, at Waxaw Bottoms — Is with the Whigs in the battle
of Kings Mountain — Kills several of the Tories that assassin
ated Mb father, and in that battle, shoots from his horse, the
British commander, Col. Ferguson, while the latter is rally
ing his retreating troops — Other details of Frank Woods' ad
ventures, in the service of the country, and in fulfillment of
his vow of vengeance.  - 160
CHAPTER XV.
Measures taken by Cornwallis — Battle of Kings Mountain —
Death of Col. Ferguson, by- the hand of Frank Wood — His
narrative of the battle and subsequent action. ... 174

CHAPTER XVI.
Lord Cornwallis encamped at HillsbOro' — Marauding parties of
British and Tories sent out to ravage and plunder the inhabi
tants — Anecdote of Maj. Hinton, in his attempt to rob Mrs.
Slocum — Falls into a dry well in her cellar — A love adventure
of his lordship with Maria Davidson — His utter dverthrow — •
The Toryism and base treachery of the Rev. Mr. James Fra
zier toward his wife, and flight to and with the British army,
after embezzling his wife's fine estate — The hypocrite's pic
ture. - - - - - 185

CHAPTER XVIII.
Frank Wood again at home— Learns the dreadful intelligence
of the abduction of his sister Susan and Maria Davidson by
the Tories and Indians — Visits with his mother the monu-

XH CONTENTS.

ment she had erected over the grave of his father — Visits with
his sister Rosa, the family of the Simpsons, and something is
told strongly signifying a love match between two young
lovers. -  201

CHAPTER XIX.
Frank Wood sets out from his home in North Carolina to join
his regiment under Gen. Green, according to his furlough —
He is transferred and attached to the division of the army
then under Gen. Lafayette in Virginia — In course of time,
with that division, he was marched to the vicinity of York-
town, and when joined to the other force of Gen. Washington,
marched to entrap and besiege Cornwallis at Yorktown —
When Cornwallis capitulated and provisions were made and
completed by Gen. Washington, safely and securely, to dis
pose of the many thousands captured at Yorktown and dispose
of the large amount of munitions of war there given up in the
capitulation, he obtains leave from Marquis Lafayette to return
to his home and his friends in North Carolina — On his way
Frank Wood has many thoughts of his country, seeks to look
into her future, and prays for her prosperity — Finds and con
summates his previous engagement in marriage with Mary
Simpson.  216

CHAPTER XX.
Thoughts on the effects of times, Burrounding localities, circum
stances, physical and metaphysical, climate, topography of
country, education, manner of life and action to make the
man a giant or a pigmy, a philosopher or an ape, a hero or a
poltroon — Capt. Jack Ashby — His feats of activity and brave
ry — Trip to Kentucky — Escape from the Indians at the falls
of the Ohio. - - - - . 226

CHAPTER XXI.
Capt. Jack and his companions shoot at the Indian party 
They kill the principle one, and wound another and the white
man — The third Indian dives into the river and escapes 
Salona Maron, the young French girl's story — She informs
the Captain that the white man, Ben. James is from Virginia
— Ashby questions him and discovers his knowledge of his
family — He gives an account of himself— Porter is taken sick
with fever — They start down the Mississippi, taking Ben.

CONTENTS. xm
James with them, after sinking the two dead Indians in their
canoe — Parte?;. dies: and is sunk in the remaining Indian ca
noe, opposite Chickasaw Bluffs — Ben. James is allowed to
depart for his Indian home^-Capt. Ashby, Wells and Salona
Maron, proceed down the Mississippi — They arrive at New
Orleans safely — Are treated well by Miss Maron's aunt and
family — Capt. Jack and Wells arrive at San Augustine, where
Wells is taken sick and dies — Capt. Jack finally gets home
after an absence of two years. - - - - -'¦ - 241

CHAPTER XXII.
Thos. McClanahan, another native Virginian — Incidents of his
boyhood — His skill and perseverance as a huntsman — Chases
a buck on foot six miles — Runs him into a farmer's cellar,
where he is found next morning, killed and taken home in
•triumph — Tom, at the age of eighteen leaves his home, and
joins the continental army — Travels one hundred miles on
foot to whip a man who insulted his father, and having done
so, immediately returns — Is engaged in the battles of Brandy-
wine, Morristown, Monmouth and Trenton — Returns home
after the surrender of Cornwallis— Renews his acquaintance
with Miss Ann Green — Courts her — Asks the consent of her
brother, Col. Robert Green — Is refused. - - - 259

CHAPTER XXin.
Young McClanahan informs his mother of his determination
and requests her assistance — She breaks the subject to her
husband, and they agree to provide their son. with funds to
consummate his object — Miss Nancy and her lover fix upon
the course they intend tp adopt. - .... 266
CHAPTER XXIV.
The lovers consummate their marriage— A description of the
bride's person — Col. Green's chagrin and disappointment —
His wife's sensible advice, and the colonel's final reconcile
ment to what he .could not help. ----- -277

CHAPTER XXV-
McClanahan removes to New River — Is famed for his pugilistic
encounters and victories — A conspiracy to whip . him — Seven
men undertake to do so, but after five of them being by him
nearly killed, the other two run and leave him victor— -He,
with his family, emigrate to Kentucky — Reach and reside

XIV CONTENTS.
at Boone's Station — McClanahan's intimacy with Daniel
Boone — Has several severe combats with Indians— Delights
in the occupation — Boone makes him commander of a compa
ny of rangers, and Bends him to the settlements on the Ohio
to watch the Indians— His success. .... 283

CHAPTER XXVI.
The party overtakes the Indians — After destroying forty of them,
they release Miss Lucy Smith and Harriet Lane, and conduct
them in triumph to Fort Washington, now Cincinnati — Lucy
Smith is married to one of the Rangers — The first wedding ever
celebrated at Cineinnatij ... ... 295

CHAPTER XXVn.
McClanahan's account of Harmar's defeat — His own miraculous
escape from death — Makes his way b.ack to camp, much to the
surprise of his comrades, who had given him up for lost. - 303

CHAPTER XXVIII.
Lord Rawdon's inhuman execution Of Col. Isaac Hayne — Death
of Hayne's wife and child — Some thoughts on these sad oc
currences. ..... . 309

CHAPTER XXIX.
Particulars of the abduction of Susan Wood and Maria David-
son by big Bill and Josh. Harpe — Their treatment of the
girls on their journey to the hunter's cave, and from thence to
Nickajack on the Tennesseee River, a town of the Cherokee's
— Destruction of that town by Gen. Jackson, and flight of the
Harpes with their victims to the Cumberland mountains. - 317

CHAPTER XXX.
Rev. William Lambeth's adventure with Big Harpe — The Harpes
leave their camp at the Cumberland Mountain, and start for
the Ohio — Meet with, murder and rob two Marylanders— Maria
Davidson's account of that horrible crime — They waylay, mur
der and rob a young Virginian — They are chased and secured
in Danville jail — They escape and make their way to Spring
field — The two ruined girls their victims, being free, discuss
the propriety of seeking the sympathy and protection of the
settlers — They decline doing so — The Harpes return to the

ConteSWs. XV
women and Start for the neighborhood of Snelling^s Station
— Again they Steal horses atid jourtiey towards what is now
Columbia, Adait 'Co., Ky., Where "they are believed to have
murdered Col. Trabue's littl* son — Continue their journey
and operations of murder and robbery into Tennessee, are
chased back to the Mammoth Cave,, but not captured — Big
Harpe murders his own child. . - .... 325

CHAPTER XXXI.
The Harpes and Cherokees continue their blooct-thirsty journey
— At the point of the Clay Lick woods they murder, strip,
and mutilate the families and Servants oftwo brothers — They
are chased by a party from Russell ville and DrumgOOl's sta
tions — The Harpes, in the meantime, murder Stegall's family
near the Double Licks, rob and burn up his home — They
are overtaken at the "Lonesome Oak" by the pursuing par
ty — Big Harpe and one Indian is killed, and the head of the
former hung on a tree — Stegall attempts to murder Susan
Woods — Is restrained and wholly 6hecked by Wm. Stewart,
of Russellville — Maria Dttvidsob and Susan Woods are taken
with the return party to Russell ville^-Exciteinent of the pop
ulace again'Si them— They are privately conveyed out of towh
to a place of safety — Maria is subsequently married. - 334

CHAPTER XXXII.
Further narrative of the adventures of Josh Harpe — His escape
— His appearance at Natchez with Peter Alston — They con
spire t6 murder and decapitate Mayerson for the government
reward — They do so and tvhile waiting for the reward are
recognized and seized, tried, condemned and executed. - 341

CHAPTER XXXIIL
Major ' Bland Ballard-^-His p&rehtage-^His father locates at
BoOnsboro^-Removies to Tick Creek— Family locates at Ty
ler's Station — Maj. Bland marries— The Station becoming
crowded, the Ballards remove outside the stockades — Danger
from the Indians anticipated — The family of old Mr. Ballard
is attacked and nearly all murdered by the Indians — Maj.
Bland, hearing the attack, rushes to the door of his cabin to
receive the last groan of his murdered mother — Decides to
take the open ground and defend himself and wife — Is hero
ically assisted by his wife — After shooting Beven Indians, he

XVI CONTENTS.

finds his bullet-pouch exhausted^r-Is supplied by his wife who
melts her spoons for the purpose, and exposes her life tQ hand
the bullets to her husband — He finally triumphs. - 345

CHAPTER XXXIV.
1 William Stout "^Thoughts on the adage " Murder will out"
— Why Stout came to Kentucky— ^His dark deeds of blood —
His care of his family — Tracks and destroys the murderer
of his son — Redresses . the widow's wrong — Prevents Jerry
Moore's trip to Missouri<~-Dies. - - - 350

CHAPTER XXXV.
A picture of the earlier Settlements in the West — State of Society
— Who gave it tone and polish. - - ... 362

CHAPTER XXXVI.
Religious revival in the West — Rev's John and William M'Ghee
— Their appointments to preach — Preaching at Red River
Meeting House — Its results — Preaching at Beech Meeting
House — ^Results, especially on those who came to mock, but
renjained to pray — Meeting at Muddy River Church — The
Meeting House too small to accommodate — They go out into
the open air — A pulpit is erected — First Camp Meeting —
Great results, --  370

CHAPTER XXXVII.
State of Western Society— Dr. Gist's story of the honey — Its
disastrous results — Is confirmed by Dr. Wilmot — His addi
tional remarks. - .---... 374

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Religion in the West-^The revival of 1799— Its effects — Dis
senting of the Presbyterians and denial of God's hand in the
work — Results of such denial — Cause of the organization of
the Cumberland Presbyterian Church — Conclusion. - - 389

LEGENDS
OF THE
WAR OF INDEPENDENCE

AND OF THE

EAELIEK SETTLEMENTS IN THE WEST.

CHAPTEE I.

Col. Davidson sets forth to Charlotte to attend the Convention of the
Whigs of Mecklenburg and of other portions of the Colony of
North Carolina — Meets with two Scotch Tories, John and William
Harpe — Their Conversation and Doctrines — Col. Davidson and
Family — The Harpes and Family.

"Well, honor is the subject of my story.
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life ; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I, myself.
I was born as free as Caesaj; so were you;
We bath have fed as well — and even can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he." — Shakspeare.
In the year 1775, and on one of those beautiful even
ings in IVJay, after hours of heavy rain from dark clouds,
with repeated claps of thunder ; and when the effulgent
source of day had brushed the mis]ts th^t intervened be
tween him and field, and flower, three neighbprs — John
and William Harpe, brothers, and iO$,pjj. John Davidson,
2

18 LEGENDS OF THE
afterwards Col. Davidson, in the army commanded hj
Gen. Nathaniel Green — met at a small country Inn, on
the road leading, at that time, from Hillsboro' to Char
lotte, the county seat of Mecklenburg county, colony of
North Carolina. Their meeting was more than usually
cordial ; and, after the ordinary salutations between them,
Capt. Davidson, who, though a Virginian by birth, had
been reared, from an early age, in Mecklenburg; and
having married when but little passed minority, settled
and cultivated a very productive farm near one of the
tributary streams of the Yadkin. He said to the two bro
thers :
"I am glad, neighbors, to meet you here, for, many
treasons : First, because we shall be company to Char
lotte, whic^h is yet a good long ride ; and secondly, be
cause I 'am glad to find you, at last, coming into our
views of the necessity of resisting, some way, the doings
of old George, and his vile officers of the Crown — extort
ing, on all occasions, their high taxes without our con
sent, in any way — and levying and exacting the most ex
travagant fees for the least official service — sacrificing,
without restraint of even the proclamations of the Gov
ernor, the citizen's property, to satisfy them. For I sup
pose you are going to the meeting, to-morrow, called by
our chief-committee-man, Col. Polk ? "
" Tou need nae think that, Jonny Davison," said John
Harpe, the elder ; " 'Tis a' thrue, we seed the writin' of
Col. Polk — and read it, too — callin' the meetin', but din
nae heed it. The regulations is nae the work for mea.
And ye, Jonny Davison, afthur you're fitin' givinor
Thryon and his guid boys at the Allemance, three years
agone, and runnin' awa' half kilt, yoursel', and more nor
half the regulation kilt and bleedin' on the ground at the
Allemance, ye, yoursel', wad nae rdore be creepin' afthur
the regulation, nae anny biddy else. Mouthin' and scald-
in' the king, and the givinor, and the Olarks^ and the
Sherricks. Din nae hear, twad be far bether to tarry at

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 19
hame, luvin' and cheerin' yere bonny wile, and the bonny
dather, jist bloomin' like the pretty fluer, nor ridin' to
town to flout and fiaro! Nae, Jonny Davison, the aith
the givinor mad' mea and mea brither tak' and aboon
that, the la' o' the kirk forbids the regulation with us."
" Aye, Jonny, we ken you a gude sojer," said the
younger brother, William Harpe ; " Nae man iver made
a bonny rifle crack bether nor you, whene the duty injin
stude annent ye, or the glowerin' panther, or creepin' bear
across yere thread, dare stand, and ye tak' a hunt to the
Blue Mountains. But Jonny Harpe tells ye thrue, the
givinor's aith and the la' o' the kirk tither the hauns of
the gude man, and no meeting the regulations for me,
either. Ye're fitin' the injins, and the bears nae ilka the
givinor's thrupes. The beasts ye ma' kill ; but God and
the big buke forbids ye kill the king's men— and that
ye'll ha' to do."
" Well, well ; I, have no time to talk these matters
over with yous now. I shall have a hard ride to get to
Charlotte in time to attend the meeting. I confess I do
not understand what you mean by the law of the Church,
forbidding your resisting the oppressions of the king and
his officers, in their unjust taxes and unlawful fees. In
this way the people here or any where could have no
rights, and must become slaves. Indeed, so it is, all na
tions in Europe are now subjects of tyranny, and must
forever remain so. I don't believe a word of it. I was
born free and I mean to die so."
" Why, Jonny Davison," said John Harpe, " ye din
nae untherstand how the la' o' the kirk, and the big
buke forbidB ye're fitin' the king ? An' din nae ken the
scripther saith, ' ye'll abide the powers that be, an' that
ev'ry gude covenanter sweareth like he will stand by the
king, and his auldest boy or dather, as next the king.'
But we know ye'll gang, Jonny, to the meetin' — take
gude care, howndeavor, ye ha' nae rebels among ye.
The big presbyther, Docthur Killwell fra' the Gilfords we

20 LEGENDS OF THE
yknoo'll be thare, an' the mickle-larned man, Bavard, talk-
in' like a buke, an' a' the rist o' the regulation who's nae
luve for the gude King George, 'ill be thare."
" I have no love, I confess, said Capt. Davidson, for
kings, and little respect for them that do love them.
With the people of the Colonies it has now come to this:
' They must decide whether they will quietly submit to
the king's arbitrary assumptions of power and parlia
ments ; or resist by revolution or otherwise. Submit
now, and we are slaves ; resist, and with the blessing of
God, we will be free. Farewell."
Capt. Davidson was tall in stature ; somewhat slendor
in person, with light hair, fair skin, deep blue eyes ; nose
prominent, but finely turned, and a mouth little more
than ordinarily broad ; lips generally compressed ; expres
sive of moral courage and personal prowess— in respect
to which, he had been distinguished in several panther
and bear hunts, in the adjacent mountains, and in seve
ral perilous conflicts with marauding invaders from the
several Indian tribes, bordering on the Northern and
North-western boundaries of the Colony, and still more
by his courage and efficient deportment in the battle
fought by the .Regulators, as they were then called, at the
Allamance, against Gov. Tiyon, and his myrmidons, in
the year 1771. And in which — though the royalists tri
umphed and slew many of Capt. D.'s bravest and best
fellow-citizens, (left dead on the field,) wounding and
most brutally and cruelly maltreating many more, him
self among the rest, but in which, or the results of which,
although the bloody Tryon framed a new oath of allegi
ance and extorted from each of the survivors and all the
inhabitants of the Colony, to swear the most humiliating
and unlimited submission to the king and the British
Parliament — there was kindled in the breasts of the peo
ple, (certain Scotch and Irish religionists always except
ed,) a flame of resentment and indignity toward the
king, that never .ceased to blaze and burn intensely, till

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 21
full independence and freedom was nobly fought for, and
gloriously obtained for the whole country, as will be
abundantly shown in the further progress of this narra
tive. At home Capt. D. was very happily situated. His
companion was what might be called a handsome lady,
the daughter of — — Graham, a farmer of great respecta
bility, in the vicinity of Hillsboro. She was pretty well
educated in most of the English branches, and thoroughly
instructed in, arid accustomed to all the most useful and
approved departments of housewifery; full of love and
reverence for her worthy husband ; and of earnest affec
tion and maternal solicitude for the proper instruction
and rearing of an only daughter, now arrived at the age
of fifteen years, and under the tuition and care of a Presby
terian Minister, the Rev. James Frazier, who, in con
junction with his very accomplished and highly educated
lady, Mrs. Happy Frazier, had charge of one of the finest
female Colleges, ever, for many years, opened in North
Carolina. In respect to estate, Capt. D. owned an ample farm —
fertile, and made by his own industry, economy, and
management, and the aid of several sturdy and well-
trained farm-servants — exceedingly productive; yielding
riot only an abundant supply of everything common to
the country, and for all domestic and culinary purposes,
but sent to the markets abroad a profitable surplus. He
was born in Bedford eoUnty, Virginia, of Irish parents,
who early removed to Mecklenburgh, North Carolina,
where he was principally reared and educated. The
country being then well filled with game, such as elk,
deer, and turkies and other wild fowls, and sometimes
with bear and panther; he became, early, an adept in
the use of the rifle, and a most successful huntsman ; and
when the savages would sometimes make down from the
mountains and cross into the valleys below the Blue-Ridge,
in companies of fifty and sometimes a hundred in number

22 LEGENDS OF THE
for the purpose of murder, rapine and robbery — young
Davidson was often foremost in pursuing them, and the
most successful in overtaking and inflicting the severest
punishment and most summary justice upon them.
Of the two Scotchmen with whom Capt. D. held the
above detailed narrative, little need be said. Both had
emigrated with their wives to the new world together,
some fifteen or sixteen years before the period of which
we are writing, and settling in the county of Orange, near
Hillsboro, purchased each a small farm and chiefly em
ployed themselves in its cultivation and hunting in the
contiguous and extensive forests, reaching to, and beyond
the blue mountains. These Scotchmen, as is perceived
from their conversation with Capt. Davidson, had been
thoroughly educated and brought up under the super
stitious notions that sprung from the feudal teachings of
many centuries since, spread and obtained all over Europe ;
the doctrine of " The Divine Rights of Kings ! " a scheme
cunningly devised and propagated by priests and the flat
terers and fawners of power in church and State, in order
to employ the superstition of men, as a chief instrument
in subjecting them to the arbitrary control and iron heel
of monarchical authority; to build up and perpetuate
over the nations, a theology teaching a dread of opposing
tyranny in any form ; under color of which, kings and
other potentates have made their persons sacred, whatev
er their crimes, and sanctify to all patient endurance and
submission, whatsoever iniquities they perpetrated— what
soever cruelties they inflicted ! A doctrine doubtless con
cocted in the deep pits of infernal darkness, seized and as
siduously and insiduously wielded by the pride of rulers
and the lovers of oppression ! Under the sanction of
which kings and rulers have practiced such tricks, in
the sight of heaven as should make even fallen angels
blush! But in respect to this stratagem of darkness,
these illiterate Scotch brothers had been— like many thous
ands of others who lived in the Colonies, that wrought.

W.AK OF INDEPENDENCE. 23
with might and main, to thwart the progress and success
of the struggle for liberty, and to perpetuate the tyranny
and oppression of king and parliament, — the pupils of
their peculiar church, the Scotch kirk or covenanters,
known to have a fundamental principle in their confession,
of faith and discipline, as the Harpes declared, from which
circumstance the name of the covenanters actually takes
its rise. All who are in its communion or are subjected
to its laws and control are understood expressly, or tacitly,
to be forever bound by a covenant and a most sacred,
solemn and religious promise or pledge, never to yield or
submit to, or permit the exercise of the sovereign reign,
of any prince, potentate, or other power, save, aud ex
cept, the kings and queens of the throne of England
and the heir apparent to the throne. This is the bonus
given by conquered Scotland, for a few extra and minor
privileges granted to the people, and for the protection of
the Scotish kirk as a separate establishment, wholly in
dependent of the discipline and organization of the Pro
testant Episcopal Hierarchy. No wonder, then, that
these, and all others of like religious opinions taught to
feel and be ruled by these obligations to the royal family
as no less than the essence of religion and faith, even the
most unexceptionably among them in other respects,
should feel disposed to favor the parent government, and
take sides against the patriots. John and William Harpe
so thought and so acted. With them it was not only in
accordance with their opinions to approve the course of
that government in its condust toward the colonies, pro
voking resistance, but also a principle of religious faith.
Each had one son. William, the son of John, was very
etout, surpassingly strong and active ; now about twenty
years of age — commonly called, "Big Harpe."
Joshua, the son of William, was not so strong as John,
but able to perform more feats of activity and great endur
ance. No one, who was at all conversant with physiogno
my, and accustomed to form opinions of the moral traits of

24 LEGENDS OF THE
character, from the lineaments' of the face, the formation
of the head, and the expression of the eye, could look up
on either of these young Harpes, without being disagree
ably and disgustingly impressed with the bull-dog head
and face of the former, and the sly lynx or hyena aippeaf-
ance of the head and face of the latter, now about eighteen
years old.
Neither had received even the! least literary cultivation,
or had been taught anything but the mere questions and
answers of the Calvinist confessions and catechisms of
the day. From their fathers they received nd examples
of practical piety, no words of Mildness calculated in the
slightest to awaken final respect, and cherish the sympa
thies and obligations of their huriianity for their fellow
men ; never having enjoyed a father's look, but enveloped
with frowns, and seldom heard a father's voice but in
abuse of some one, and most frequently, themselves. All
their moral instruction and training, consisted in being
imbued thoroughly with the doctrine of their father —
that God's immutable decrees fixed everything, and de
termined the fate, for Heaven Or hell1, of every one born
into the world, without regard to moral character or faith
or practice, good or base ! These were the sentiments, at
least, that they entertained, Whether the legitimate de
ductions of the teachings they had received or not, the
ferocity of their lives and the desperation of their charac
ters too well attest the fact. While young, they had few
associates ; living in a neighborhood sparsely populated,
and never at school, they formed few acquaintances.
When not immediately at labor on the farms of the two
families to which they respectively belonged, they spent
almost all their time Upon hunting excursions to the Blue
Ridge, or upon fishing tramps along the adjacent rivers.
Each had a sister, a few years younger than themselves,
and each aB uncouth in manners and mind as themselves.
On a few occasions, these Misses Harpe, had met Maria
Davidson, till they had reached womanhood ; and when

W.AE OF INDfePENDENOE. 25
she would occasionally spend the vacations of the school
at Hillsboro, at her father's, in company with her excel
lent mother, she visited at the house of old John Harpe,
on cotton picking, quilting, or log-rolling occasions — com
mon in those early days of the country, and, indeed, al
most the only high days and holidays enjoyed by the
young in those semi-savage times, in that portion of
North Carolina. On such occasions, also, William and
Joshua Harpe saw and became known to Maria, and
sometimes danced with her, or played thimble, &c, at
the frolics, with which these gatherings generally ended ;
and when their mothers and fathers would also enjoy
themselves in minuets, reels and jigs, to the great delight
and entertainment of the sons and daughters, and all
other spectators.

26 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER II.

Col. Davidson meets with and renews his acquaintance with Capt.
J. Wood — Spends the night at his house.

"Vouchsafe to those that have
Not read the story,
That I may prompt them; and of such as have
I humbly pray thee to admit the excuse
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which in their huge and proper life
Be here present." — Shakspeare.
We parted with Capt.*Davidson, where he left the two
elder Harpes, at the little inn on his way to Charlotte.
On he pushed until about eight o'clock at night, when,
as he bad yet fifteen miles to reach that place, the roads
deep aud the weather somewhat mirky, he turned to
a farm house for an evening's repose, which he was
well pleased to find belonged to and was occupied by
Capt. J. Woods, whom he had seen several years be
fore on one of the excursions of the citizens of that
part of the country, against the Cherokee Indians, who
had stealthily crept into the white settlements, murdered
some of the inhabitants and carried off a great many horses,
cattle, &c. He had been with him also on a bear and buf
falo hunt, when they for the first time crossed the Blue
Ridge, and penetrated the dense and unbroken forests west
of the mountain. Our traveler alighted from his horse,
which he left near the gate, entered the yard, approached
and knocked at the door, and was speedily responded
to by a clear and sonorous voice from within, enquiring his
object, and requesting him to wait till alight should be pro
cured. In a brief space, a light was brought out, made

W-iE 0^ INDEPENDENCE. 27
by a pine knot, borne in the hand of Capt. John Wood,
who was immediately recognized though he had not
seen him for ten years. He requested entertainment
for the night, explaining that he was on his way to Char
lotte, which he presumed was yet fifteen or twenty miles
off, and as it was now quite dark, and as he could reach
the .place by an early morning ride, and in time for his
business, he would be glad to be permitted to stay till
then, and would be pleased to give any reasonable com
pensation for it.
" You can't pay anything here, friend, for so small a
favor," responded Wood. " We live near the road, it is
true, leading across the upper part of the colony pretty
much, and on into South Carolina. We don't keep
tavern, yet we are not apt to turn folks off when, they
call for quarters. We don't charge them for it neither.
Where's your norse, stranger? Is he at the gate. Here,
Frank," called to his eldest son, " the gentleman's horse
is hitched at the yard gate. See that he is cared for — tell
Pete to feed him well. Now come in sir, and rest, for
travelers are generally pretty glad, after a hard day's ride,
to get a comfortable seat by a warm fire ; but we have
no fire in the room, the weather has been so warm we
have not thought it necessary. My daughter, call old
Csesar out of the kitchen to make a fire at once, and then
we can see better to talk, for after we get our travelers a
little warm and rested, and something comfortable to eat,
we expect them to tell something good and interesting of
the parts they are from, and that's our charge. Wife,
liere's a gentleman who wants to stay with us till morn
ing, when he is going to Charlotte, and would like to get
a rasher or two of that good venison stew you have handy,
and some bread, milk and butter. I don't know your
name, sir, but since I can see better, and you've come in,
it seems to me I had ought to — for I think I've seen you
before — but it don't now matter. This is my wife, sir,
and there's my two girls. I have two boys. Harry's our

28 LEGENDS OF* THE
pet, and Frank, who I sent to look after your horse, is
Our biggest boy, and a rousin' boy he is too, being only
fourteen last April. My boys, sir, young as they are, do
a great deal for me, and when not away at school, work
as hard as any of my negroes, and I have two fine darkies
to work, I assure you."
Capt. Davidson, as soon as his host ceased these re
marks about his family, informed him what his name
Was, that he was from the neighborhood of Hillsboro,
and that he very well remembered to have seen him on
the chase after the Indians in June, 1762.
"Aye, yes," said Capt. Wood, "I was on that hunt,
and now remember you. And you are the man that all
believe killed big Washita, at the mouth of the Great
Cave, where the Injins hid themselves when we were hot
upon them. Big Washita had four scalps tied with a
deer sinew string, fastened around his waist. I saw you
cut them loose and run behind that big tree, that stood
near, a little to one side of the mouth of the cave — the
infernal Injin den, and that was right enough. For the
villains sent many a ball whistling after you, just as you
got behind the tree. You hung on to the string and the
skalps, though."
" No more of the Injins came out ; and we could not
get them out of the cave. I thought since, we ought to
have built a great log fire across the mouth, and smoked
them all Out, like rabbits; and proposed to do so, but
Major Goodin said he reckoned we could not do anything
that way, and said there was, probably, on the other
side of the mountain, another mouth of the cave, through
or under which the plaggy hollow seemed to run, and
the smoke and even the Injins would get out at it, and it
would'nt do no good, and so we all came home, you know,
being a little skittish about going any further out into
the big wilderness. Them Injins have been a little more
s6arce since that time ; they hain't took many horses
sihCe — well enough they don't, for there's many a horse

W.AE OF INDEPENDENCE. 29
Stole now, and carried off to Georgia, through Virginia
to Pennsylvania, or some of them forin parts, by some
devilish Injins, what, I guess lives here, right amongst
us ; they will be caught and hung som§ of these days,
and I wish they was. Well, now, there's a bite of supper
for you on the table, and I'll not keep you from it any
longer. When you have got done with the eating, I
guess we can talk a bit more before you must go to bed."
So the traveler took his seat at the table, and had but lit
tle more than began his repast before his friend began to
talk to him again.
" Ahl now I think of it," he said, "It is very likely
you are going to Charlotte, to meet the regulating friends.
I guess you seen the letter of Col. Polk and are going to
the meeting to-morrow. I hope so, at least; for my
heart and soul is in that business. I forgot to tell you, I
was going myself to Charlotte, pretty, early in the morn
ing, to see what they'll do about it. So if that's your
business we'll go together." " That is my business there,
Capt Wood, and I am glad, not only to have your com
pany, but that we are very likely to agree in respect to
the object and necessity of such a meeting. We want
men there that have the heart and mind to think and act
for themselves, and for their country, independently ! —
men of firm minds and strong arms ; for if we do not now,
I am sure we will need all we can get of that stamp, very
soon, As I do not see that the king and parliament and
colonial officers are likely to get any better soon, but
worse and worse ; and I, for one, let me tell you, cannot
see how the people of the colonies are to stand it peace
ably much longer."
"Well, now indeed, friend Davidson, we do seem to
agree very well ; and if you say so, we'll not only go to
gether to Charlotte, but throughout this whole business,
come what will," said the bold and generous Capt. Wood.
By this time the traveler had finished his sumptuous
supper, so promptly and abundantly supplied by the hos-

80 LEGENDS OF THE
pitable matron, and taking his seat near the comfortable
fire, briskly and cheerily blazing away on the hearth, he
said: " How very different men are in their opinions and
views upon every subject. I confess I was a little disap
pointed, if not actually grieved, when John and William
Harpe, my neighbors, (two Scotchmen who settled among
us twelve or fourteen years back,) talked with me as they
did this evening. They were at a little tavern on the
road. I found them there, and was in hopes they were
also on their way to Charlotte, to attend the meeting, and
so told them ; and really, they almost quareled with me,
for supposing such was their purpose. They had a great
deal to say in favor of the king— said that God and re
ligion forbid saying and doing anything against the king,
or any of his men in authority ; and said a good deal
about the regulators, seeming to rejoice that old Tryon
had whipped them all, at the .Allemance, and talked much
about the treason of our meeting to-morrow. So I came
to the conclusion that if we got into a scuffle with old
George, we might not rely much upon those sort of for
eigners, as indeed, there was much greater room to fear
they would most of them, fight against us."
"They are not going to fight us much in the way of a
regular field fight," said Capt. Wood, "but will be likely
to do worse. They will, most probably, if we get in a
war, turn their attention to robbery and plunder, and sly
attacks upon our defenceless families, when we are out
campaigning for the country. O, I say, wife, was it not
a young man by the name of Bill Harpe, who it was said,
had stolen Squire Dennis' fine riding horse, the week be
fore last, and was followed into the neighborhood of
Abington, but there dodged Crane and Collins, that fol-
fowed him ? I say, wife ? "
Mrs. Wood answered, she thought that was the name.
" Aye, well, I wonder if he is any 'kin to those two
Scotchmen. Yes, the name was Bill Harpe, for certain,

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 31
and I should like to know whether he is a son or cousin
of them."
"Indeed," said Capt. Davidson, "you surprise me.
John Harpe has a son by the name of Bill, or William,
now about twenty or twenty-one years of age, and a very
stout active man at that."
"Ah, there it is," said Capt. Wood, "I should calculate
it was the same ; and that such men as you say they are,
are likely to raise such scamps of sons — cowards or thieves,
you may be sure."
" Truly," said Capt. Davidson, " if it be big Bill Harpe,
as he is called in the neighborhood, it is only fulfilling
the fears many of us have had about him, for some years ;
but I never heard of his stealing anything before, if in
deed, it was he. I don't remember to have seen him in
our parts for some month or so, and now I remember it,
his uncle, William Harpe, at the mills, the other day,
said that big Bill, and his own son, Joshua had gone over
into Virginia, for a spell, to get some employment as
overseers of negroes. Well, indeed, it may be the same
that took the horse, and I'll vouch more than one horse
is gone ; for they are known to be very intimate, always
together, if any mischief is to be done. I do not know
that any of us have suspected them for stealing, but they
are universally hated and shunned in the neighborhood,
as bad young men."
" Capt. Davidson," said Capt. Wood, " I guess you're
tired enough to lie down "a while. Here, Rosa, my
daughter, take that lamp and show Capt. Davidson his
room. I hope' you'll sleep pretty fast, so as to be up to a
bite of breakfast, we must have before we go, as we ought
to get to Charlotte early, and ready to attend the meeting,
as soon as any of our friends. Go, now Rosa, sweet girl,
and direct the gentleman to his bed."
Capt. D., followed the pretty Rosa, and was speedily
wrapt in a sound and refreshing slumber.

32 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER III.

Col. Davidson resumes his journey to Charlotte, accompanied by
Capt. Wood— Meet with Dr. D. Caldwell, Dr. E. Bavard and
other Patriots, destined for the same place and the Mecklenburg
Convention — Discussion upon the causes of the Revolution — Brief
biographical sketches of Drs. Caldwell, Bavard and others.

" Those are they
That most are willing; if any such be here
(As it were sin to doubt,) that love this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd ; if any fear
Less his person than an ill report ;
If any think brave death outweighs bad life
And that his country's dearer than himself,
Let him, alone, or so many, so minded,
Wave thus (waiving his hand) to express his disposition
And follow Marcius." — Shakspeare.
At five o'clock the entire family of Capt. Wood was
aroused, and white and black were engaged in preparing
an early breakfast for the two patriots, Davidson and
Wood, before they proceeded to the gathering of their
countrymen at Charlotte. Quickly it w^s upon the table,
and in haste the gentlemen partook of the sumptuous
fare, so that by morning's dawn they were hastening to
the place of destination. They had not traveled far be
fore they fell in with a goodly company of the hardy sons
of North Carolina, ready in heart and mind to do, or die
in the attempt, whatsoever the meeting should depide to
be proper and honorable in resistance to oppression.
Their destination was soon known to Capt. Wood and Da
vidson, a very ready acquaintance was formed with each
other, and a cordial interchange of sentiment began as
they chatted on the way.

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 33
To our two friends, Wood and Davidson, the names
and characters of several of the company, by whom they
were thus joined, were well known. Amongst them was
Dr. Caldwell, a Presbyterian minister at Guildford Court-
House, having charge of a congregation at that place,
also one at Allemance, a short distance off — a man of great
learning and in charge of an institution of education unr
surpassed by any, even up to that time, established in the
colony, and whose public and private characters were well
known throughout the entire country ; also Dr. Ephraim
Bavard, an elder at Allemance — a man of very superior
mind and profound erudition — with others who after
wards made themselves greatly useful to the country and
were distinguished for ihdomitable courage and unvary
ing love of country. All, all, soon made themselves
known as deeply interested in the objects of the meeting
before them, and resolved and prepared in mind to act on
the occasion.
Dr. Bavard told them he had, that morning, received
by letter, intelligence of the conduct of the Governor and
British military officers at Boston ; the resistance of the
friends of the country to their cruel, arbitrary and wicked
attacks upon the people at Lexington and Cambridge, as
well as the fight at Breed's and Bunkers, Hill, and the
glory won by the Americans on those occasions. The
letter received he promised to read so soon as the meet
ing was organized. This startling intelligence aroused,
as may well be supposed, the most intense feeling and
profound consideration in the minds of all who heard it.
For some minutes perfect silence prevailed, and it was
first broken by the voice of Capt. Wood, who, evidently
under theinfluence of themost powerfulexcitement, said —
" I am an American by birth ; born free as George IH.
in the good colony of Massachusetts. My grand-father
sacrificed his all of lands and money in England to look
for and find a home freed from the.iron tread of British
3

34: LEGENDS OF THE
tyranny. In this country he found it. Hard by old Ply
mouth Rock my ancestors lived and died ; there I was
born, and there I tasted the sweets of Liberty, I shall say
' Heaven's best earthly gift to man ;' and here, in North
Carolina, I am prepared to follow the example of my old
comrades and fellow-citizens in that good old colony in
resisting unto blood and death, if need be, the Stamp Act,
Tea Tax, and every other act or thing on the part of the
king and parliament calculated to enslave or even to
abridge, to any material extent, the chartered rights of
free Americans ! I am no orator, Capt. Davidson and
gentlemen ; I am no preacher, nor am I learned enough,
like our good Dr. Caldwell and Dr. Bavard, to do much
in speech-making, but I have a good strong arm and as
keen a sight along the straight edge of my bright and
well-tried rifle, as any man. You saw me a little tried at
the Allemance against Tyron and his men, fighting the
friends of the country, and all who felt the oppressions of
the officers in their fee-exactions and the tax-collectors.
Yes ; you will guess, too, I made some of them feel the
loving touches of that rifle. Now I don't know what you
may all think best to be done and shall resolve to do, at
this meeting, but I say resolve upon what you please to
oppose this tyranny, and if you do not find old John
Wood on your side, you may know he has forgot his wife
and children and has ceased to tell his sons, ' Die sooner
than live slaves.' "
Every one within hearing of these thrilling remarks
of this firm and most intrepid man — several, while he
was addressing them, seemed to have unconsciously press
ed their horses near to his side — involuntarily surround
ed him, their countenances expressing an almost un
speakable interest and admiration for the speaker, from
whose flashing eyes and pallid features there seemed to
irradiate new lights of thought and patriotic inspiration,
which, for more than a minute, enchained them in si-

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 85
lence, until the venerable Caldwell,' who, with others, had
gathered near him, addressed him in tones at once sooth
ing and instructive, by saying :
" Please be careful, my friend, and temperate as possi
ble in your expressions. We know you love your coun
try, love liberty, and are as ready to act as bravely as any
man. But should we not, while our enemies may, under
cover of law, question our rights and persecute us for what
we say, or do, be; very cautious lest ~wp give grounds for
persecution. I know your determination on resistance of
tyranny in every political shape. But it is always wise to
do nothing in rashness, or which is not calculated to ac
complish a certain good. It is certain there is a great
crisis at hand ; the intelligence we have heard from
Boston of the conduct of the Governor and other British
officers, prove the fact beyond question that war there,
and here, and throughout the land, is most likely to en
sue ; and it will then be to be determined by us whether
we will be free or more and more continually the slaves
of British dictation and power."
" That question with me, reverend sir," said Capt.
Wood, " is already settled. The roaming bear, the sculk-
ing panther, the bounding deer and elk of the boundless
forests or prairies of the far west, are no less fettered by
the chains of arbitrary power than John Wood intends
to live and die."
" These, your reverence, after all, seem to be the nat'-
ral sentiments of a true American. They are mine, at
all events," said Lawrence Smith, who had been listening
with fixed and the most absorbing interest to all that pass
ed between the parson and the brave border patriot, ad
ding, " and it is certain, if the people give up now, it
will not be long before we will have to be ordered and
submit to it without grumbling, as the slaves have to do
in old Virginia when the overseers say, ' cross your hands.'
We shall have to cross our hands to old George and to the

36 LEGENDS OF THE
very meanest of his officers and take the whipping. 1
reckon we'll fight awhile first."
" Well, my countrymen," Baid Doctor Bavard, " it is
with great joy I hear, even on our way to the meeting,
the expression of such natural and firm opinions and
views, on these momentous subjects, as I have this day
heard expressed by my countrymen, whose habits and
walks in life promise more of action than mere words
and opinions. I fully concur with you, the colonies must
now stand for their rights or they are gone forever. It is
of no use to further petition and pray his majesty and
parliament for a redress of grievances. They believe, or
pretend to believe, they have the right to tax us, while
we have no representative, no voice in the act to any
necessary extent, to replenish their empty coffers and
treasury, by wringing from the people of America their
hard earnings to fatten and pamper the ministers and
fawning sycophants of arbitrary power, and to coerce
our submission, if we resist. I trust in God, and con
fidently expect we shall meet many at Charlotte to-day,
like yourselves, ready to do or to die."
Many others during the ride that morning, besides
those named, fell into the road with Davidson and Wood,
and more or less interchanged sentiments.
Of the four, however, already introduced to our readers,
Capt. Wood, Dr. Caldwell, E. Bavard and L. Smith, as
they and their families are to figure considerably in
inany of the scenes and events of the greatest interest
the narratives yet to be given, it may be proper to in
dulge our kind readers in a more particular analysis of
their characters, &c.
Relative to Capt. Wood, little in addition to what the
reader has already seen of him need here be;said. Few
who have 'had the opportunities to form an acquaintance
with the characters and lives of that portion of our co
lonial inhabitants occupying the frontier borders of the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 37
Southern States, during the commencement and the pro
gress of the war of Independence, will be likely to fail to
understand the solid integrity of his mind and heart, the
stern indomitableness of his will, and his unconquerable
moral courage. He was a man of six feet four inches
Iteighth, of limbs finely developed, fitted for great activ
ity and endurance ; reared in his native colony to the ac
tive life of the farmer, it was natural that in emigrating to
the fertile region of North .Carolina, promising the richest
and most abundant rewards of the tiller's toil, he should
settle and engage in the culture of a, farm. But notwith
standing his steady habits, acquired, and industriously
pursued as a farmer, he was passionately fond of adven
ture. He had married at the early age of twenty-three
to a lady, like himself descended from a respectable Pur
itan stock, three, years younger than himself, of handsome
and healthful person, and tolerably educated in the most
useful branches of an English education. Nor was her
rearing deficient in regard to the more useful qualifications
of a good honse-wife, for it was most unquestionably as
serted by Capt, Wood, and all who knew her at that early
period, that not a lass or matron in all the old Bay State
could with more than equal dexterity perform those dis
tinguishing feats of all good cookery, in her day — toss a
pan-cake as high as the kitchen chimney, and make the
butter come from the churn. She was industrious and
ingenious,, spinning and weaving all the clothing for
he? husband and herself, children and servants, and in
all other respects filling creditably the important rela
tions of wife, mother, and mistress of her household.
Four children in due time blessed their union — the two
oldest girls, the .others boys. Capt. Wood, as a farmer,
was very successful- His farm was situated in the neigh
borhood of the ghallow ford of the Yadkin river and in the
midst of a rich champaign country. , Often, however, in
the less busy seasons of the year, in the , gratification of
his natural fondness for a more heroic and adventurous

38 LEGENDS OF THE
life, he would leave the management of his farm in the
hands of a portion of his skillful and faithful Yankee help,
brought from Massachusetts at his removal, and with an
other portion of them, who were always delighted with
the huntsman's spOrts and whom he had taught to wield
with efficiency the deadly rifle, he made excursions for
Weeks far into the regions covered by the Blue Ridge, or
Blue Mountains as they were often called; penetrating
sometimes even into the wilderness approaching the vast
Alleghanies, in pursuit of deer, elk, buffalo, and bear ;
and having been always more or less successful, returned
with many packs, richly filled with the spoils of victory,
prepared in the forests, by means of salt taken out and
the process of jerking as it was called, for the win
ter's consumption of his family. He had also frequently
been upon expeditions in pursuit of marauding Cherokee,
Choctaw, Creek, and other hostile Indians, inhabiting the
country west of the Blue Ridge, but chiefly the Allegha
nies, who suddenly permeating the sparcely populated
portions of Georgia, North Carolina, and Virginia, lying
south of those mountains, murdered many without dis
crimination of age, or sex, or color — stealing horses and
cattle, sometimes burning houses and consuming the in
habitants, amounting in some instances to entire families.
On these expeditions, he was often placed in command,
and learned much of the science of war, especially that
with the aborigines of the country. Endowed with a
mind naturally good, a will indomitable, a courage seldom
if ever surpassed, with a giant strength of body and pow
er of action, it was to be expected, as it really was the
case, his countrymen living in his neighborhood and
about to join the scouts after the Indians, invariably se
lected him to command the company, and even when in
batallions of volunteers that would be formed and a col
onel or major was placed in command — for he always de
clined taking any position higher than captain — his
opinions and plans of attack were more relied on than

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 39
even their own, and his influence was paramount. These
campaigns always brought him into acquaintance with
the most distinguished and public spirited men of the
colonies, such as Davidson, Bavard, Graham, Alexander,
Sumpter, Ashe, Marion, and a host of others, of great
deeds in the revolutionary struggle. One inducement,
subordinate to be sure, to his great solicitude to witness
the result of the meeting at Charlotte, was the hope of
seeing there many of those old valued friends, and with
them consider and resolve upon the best measures to be
pursued in the crisis then upon the country. We have
said he had four children — two daughters and two sons.
Rosa, the eldest daughter, was now about nineteen
years of age ; fair, blue eyes, flaxen hair, a finely devel
oped person, and mind much more than ordinarily culti
vated for those frontier regions and times, through the
timely industry and care of her affectionate mother.
Susan, about the age of seventeen, was a little less per
fected in womanhood, well-looking, with her slightly bru
nette skin, black hair and eyes, fully as intellectual, though
not so affable and amiable in disposition ; a little more
inclined to flashiness, and much less under the control of
her prudent and most affectionate mother. Great was
the affection of Rosa for her sister, and Susan usually felt
and acted toward her with a kindness manifesting a rea
sonable regard. But when it was thought necessary, and
her duty, by the elder sister, to advise and gently ad-
¦ monish Susan of errors and dangers, she often seemed a
little provoked, and too often retorted with some bitter
ness and ascerbity, saying as much as, "it was none of
her business, she was her own mistress as far as she was
concerned." Their intercourse was usually harmonious
and pleasant, notwithstanding these little bickerings to
the contrary. They were not exactly, what in modern
phrase, would be called the belles of the neighborhood.
True,, they had not been taught many of those branches of
education without which our young ladies, of the modern

40 LEGENDS OF THE
days of the republic, would esteem themselves greatly
destitute. But although they neither had, from a French
or German master, received lessons on the piano-forte
or dulcet harp, it was a fact well known to all their ac
quaintances that they could' occasionally sing sweetly
the pieces then most fashionable, such as " Crazy Jane,"
"Barbary Allen," "My Mamma did so before me,"
and numerous others, in voices sweet and subduing — and
thus bewitching many languishing swains and lovers;
who made them their "thoughts by day and dreams by
night." Yet in no music of their day of girlhood, did
they so excel or display so finely to advantage the sym
metry and luxury of their elegant persons, as when they
with much grace of action and poetry of motion, danced
back and forth to the useful and most charming music of
their mother's spinning wheel. Whether or no it was
the skill and rapturous grace of these blooming and tru
ly lovely damsels that first filled, captivated and inspired
the lofty poetic rhapsody of Homer, in his Diad, on looms
and shuttles, is not known.
Their brothers were still younger. Frank, though only
fifteen, at the time of which we now write, was remarka
bly grown for a boy of such tender years ; tall and quite
athletic in appearance, promising at manhood to rival
his gigantic father in every quality. Considerable care
had already been bestowed on his education, having been
more than two years under the tuition of a fine teacher
at Newberne, and during that time having made very
creditable progress in the attainment of a good English
education. Henry, or Harry as he was always designated in the
family, was only twelve years of age ; still he was the pet,
and then might well be so considered, being the youngest
of the family — as it is to this day in this land, with all
ranks of society, the youngest son is indulged beyond the
common walks of boys, and preeminently entitled to imi
tate the celebrated Alexander Selkirk, and exclaim :

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. 41
"Iam monarch of all I survey.
My Bight there is none to dispute."
These young Woods, however, to use a homely' phrase
of those earlier days, were still in the rough, roll, and
tumble of boyhood, and too young to have given any
decided indicia of future character.
Frank, however, was never more delighted or observed
tO be so absorbed in interest, as when listening to his
father, or some other, narrating hunting adventures,
hair-breadth escapes from the crushing embrace of the
bear, or the terrific fangs of the panther, or more despe
rate fights with Indians, combats with bandits and high
way robbers. And when entertained by graphic and
spirited descriptions, in story or history, of the destruc
tion of human life in the conflicts of infuriated armies,
his physical as well as mental nature would seem to put
on a new aspect, as it were. His countenance showed
visibly the deep workings of his own heart and mind ;
and unmistakably, though dimly, while quite young,
shadowed forth some deeply embedded principles in his
soul of bitterness and vengeance — some reveries and pre
sentiments of bloody strife and future horror.
Dr. Cadwell's reputation for learning, benevolence,
and widely extended usefulness, needs here no panegyric ;
for they were long known, written and spoken of by all
who knew him. He may be said ever to have preached
as a minister of the gospel of Christ what he practiced ;
and as forcibly taught, or more so, most likely, by his re
ligious life and practice than by his fervid and powerful
discourses from the pulpit. Aside from his general ac
quiescence in, and submission to the Calvinistic system
of election and reprobation, as engrafted into the Westmin
ster confession of faith, though in the discussion of which
he never entered in his pulpit, his whole life was truly a
most convincing commentary on and illustration of the
truth and saving efficacy of the gospel of a most merciful
and beneficent Creator. The nation has long and exten-

42 LEGENDS OF THE
6ively reaped the rich harvests of those patriotic and en
lightened, civil, naval, and military gentlemen, whose
minds "and morals have received at the institution of
learning and science, established by Dr. Caldwell's be
nevolence, and fostered long by his untiring solicitude
and vigilance at Guilford Court-house, the happiest cul
ture and qualifications for the usefulness justly ascribed
to them in the nation's records. No historian worthy of
the name, — poor as invariably their narratives of North
Carolina appear, — has ever failed to enlarge and enrich
his pages by respectful mention of the life and character
of this most estimable man. His warm and unwavering
amor patria, ever through his long life, and in the times
of her greatest trial and despondency, so far as a just ap
preciation of his sacerdotal mission would justify, in feel
ing and action, kept on his country's side. Never did he,
like some of his brother ministers, and many of the laity
of his own community and unhappily of others, plead his
sacerdotal office or religious obligations in excuse, as
many unfortunately and under the blind influence of a
love of power or pusillanimity for their disgusting tirades,
preach from the pulpits of the country against the revo
lution and the impiety and folly of its advocates. He
did not as an officer or soldier enter the army of the re
public to do battle. And yet, was there a battle fought
within the reach of a reasonable travel; were there
wounded and dying, of any grade on either side, need
ing the consolation of his well instructed, quiet, sympa
thizing heart and voice to cheer and console them amidst
suffering and extreme pain, or by well-timed words,
to lift the desponding faith and hope of the dying to the
cross of the Redeemer and a home in Heaven, there was he
to be found. He lived to the age of ninety years 
marked the entire progress of that Heaven-directed strug
gle for the liberty of the country—suffered much in per
son, property, and in his most tender social relations on
account of his cordial approbation, throughout that con-

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. 43
flict, of the principles prompting the efforts of his coun
trymen — hailed in grateful adoration the providence of
his God, whose inspirations had directed and nerved their
arms for the fray, and finally led them to victory and in
dependence. Yet it must be recorded here and ought everywhere to
be recorded to the everlasting dishonor of that boasted
Christian nation, Great Britain, that often even her own
troops, but especially her allies, the Tories, received and
cherished in her service, more than once sought this ven
erable man's life ; and on one occasion, when a British
corporal and his guard, together with a half dozen or
more Tories, who had wandered a short distance from
the main British encampment, sought him at his home
to destroy and sacrifice him to their brutal rage, and who,
finding he was away, induced one of those Tories to
shoot his wife through the window of her chamber, where
she was walking the floor with her infant in her arms.
She fell, and instantly expired in the midst of the screams
of three or four young and helpless children, to satisfy
and appease the disappointment of these wretches.
Oh, if there was anything yet needed to add to the
dark catalogue of Christian England's vile atrocities,
countenanced and sanctioned by her armed, plumed and
commissioned officers, occurring in the acts of her tory
and savage subsidiaries in both her wars with the United
States, this, it truly- may be said, claims the most marked
preeminence. But the finishing touch of this most tragic
item in the history of the revolutionary conflict, in re
gard to the sufferings of this most estimable man, is
given in the wanton act of burning, within a few days
after the above-mentioned incident, his dwelling house,
containing a library of the most valuable character, col
lected at great pains and cost, and the best that at that
time existed in the land.
Here, however, for the present, at least, we dismiss
this melancholy picture and turn with pleasure to the

44 LEGENDS OF THE
contemplation of one more pleasant. It is, as we ere
this promised, to give the reader a better acquaintance
with the very erudite and most estimable man, Dr. Eph
raim Bavard.
He was a man of great modesty, yet imbued with a
spirit of indomitable- moral courage, fervid and glowing
with the love of country ; with a mind fully and richly
instructed in the science of practical Christianity, exem--
plified throughout his too short life in deeds of kindness
to his suffering neighbors. And we feel assured the intel
ligent reader,, when we have introduced to his admiring
view the great State paper, the production of his pen at
Charlotte,, as we shall now speedily do, will conclude
with us, had Providence spared him yet a little longer,
his name and fame would have stood out prominently in
the history of our beloved nation, and as one of her great.
est men. But he was cut off in the meridiaiiiOf his use
ful life !

WAfe OF INDEPENDENCE. 4§

CHAPTER IV.

Mecklenburg Corlvention.-^»How organifeed.^Speeches by Ser. H.
J. Balch, Mr. Kennon, and E. Bavard. .

"By the hope within us springing,
Herald of to-morrow's strife j
By that sun, whose light is bringing,
Chains of freedom, death or life t
Oh, remember life can be
No charm for him, who lives not free I
Like the day-star in the wave,
Midst .the deW+fall of a nation's tears 1 *
Ha^ppy is he o'er whose decline
The smiles of home may soqthing shine
And light him down the steep of years ;
But 0, how grand they sink to rest,
Who close their eyes on victory's breast \"-^Moore.
At about 10 o'clock on the morning of the 19th day of
May, 1775,. our two friends, Davidson and Wood? together
with those we have already mentioned, and others, met
on the route,. arrived at the little village of Charlotte; and
from t.he many coteries, or clusters of plain and neatly
attired citizens they at once saw, standing in numbers
varying from four to ten and a dozen, in every direction,
on the public square, and along the streets, they conceived
the most favorable hopes for the success of the convention,
so far as numbers were concerned, and felt a fresh inspi
ration for the success of the results to flow to the country
from the doings of that day. Oh, it was a lovely day ;
the sun had ,risen, beaming on the world , his. brightest
effulgence; and calm and cloudless the day looked forth,
With blissful, promises of life and joy to all nature.
As our friends strolled along one of the streets, having

48 LEGENDS OF THE
disposed of their horses, they drew near to the small par
ties or clusters of talkers standing in the way and listened
to the conversation ; all seemed serious and exhibited an
interest the most intense. They had not gone far before
they approached some, who appeared to be villagers, en
gaged in conversation, and they listened to the words that
passed between them.
" Who," said one of them to the others, " are these that
are crowding to our town, so early this morning? Is
there a court of any kind to sit here, to-day, or what is
the cause of our seeing farmers, mechanics, lawyers, doc
tors, and even preachers coming in from all parts of the
country, and, indeed, from all parts of the colony?"
To these enquiries, one and another answered, "they
knew not."
One said : " Indeed, neighbors, I should like to know,
myself. It must be something of great importance, bring
ing, as it were, the whole country together at this place.
tl am getting anxious to know, myself, what it is ?"
Within hearing of these remarks, but appearing not of
their acquaintance, there stood an elderly -looking gentle
man, about sixty years of age, perhaps, whom they after
wards learned was George Woiden, of Allemance. He,
in a calm and unobtrusive manner 5- addressed himself to
the villagers, and said : —
"Know ye not, my countrymen, that this is the day
appointed for the meeting of the Committee of Safety of
our country, and of the friends of liberty in all parts of
the colony, at this place, as notified and invited by our
Chief Secretary, Mr. Thomas Polk ; and that the business
is to deliberate and determine upon what should be done,
in the present crisis, to save our political and religious
rights from being trodden down by the king and parlia
ment?" "Ah, is that it, sir?" replied one of the neighbors.
" God give them wise heads and right hearts, for I have
been thinking, myself, something more ought to be done

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 47
to check up the big folks at home ; the parliament and
the old king always making tax laws, and such like, and
never knowing or enquiring of us whether they suit us or
not! And then they do, with the money they get out of
us, what they please — and they don't ask us about that
neither ! Some tell us it goes to pay our own officers and
for the good of our own country, but I hav'nt seen none
of it yet. I think its all tyranny any how. I don't love
tyrants, nor taxes, no way you can fix it."
"For my part," said another villager; "I don't know
nothing about it. All I want'B for everybody to let every
thing alone and mind his own business.. I hope thar'll
be no more fighting, like there was t'other year at the
Allemance — killin' and criplin' one another!"
"Well," said the other speaker; "I don't pretend to
know much about these things, neighbor. I love, and
want peace, but if they make it necessary to keep our
liberties and not live like slaves, to fight, I reckon I can
do a little as well as the next man."
, Leaving the villagers still conversing, and seeing the
gathering of the people into the Court-house and around
the door, the venerable stranger and ourselves, supposing
the time had arrived for the sitting of the convention,
proceeded thitherward.
Abraham Alexander was called upon to preside, and
J. McKnight Alexander, and Dr. Ephraim Bavard were
appointed Secretaries.
It was then proposed that the meeting should open
with prayer, and the chairman called upon the venerable
Dr. Caldwell to lead.
The Chairman then proceeded to read to the conven
tion the intelligence brought on that day, by express,
giving a short but reliable detail of the attack made by
the British troops from Boston on the citizens of Massa
chusetts, at Lexington, on the 19th, and at Cambridge on
the 20th of April; and as the same was being read by
the Secretary it would be difficult to describe the deep

48 LEGENDS OF THE
feeling and excitement every face exhibited in that large
assemblage, though without noise or any sort of indeco
rum on the part of any. Several gentleman then arose in
succession and addressed the assemblage.
Rev. H. J. Balch first spoke, and in a calm and manly
diction, recurred to a history of the course pursued, for
ten or twelve years, by the king, ministry, and parlia
ment toward the colonies ; reciting each separate act, ex
plaining their respective effects and purposes; charged
the government with the unconstitutional design, and
with practically carrying out the purpose, to tax them to
any amount deemed necessary, without their consent, or
any manner of voice in the parliament, but upon the vague
and uncertain principles as they pretended, that their
charters were the grants of the Sovereigns of England,
and therefore, the king retained the right to tax. Then
reasoning and arguing in a most convincing and simple
view of this delusive and sophistical doctrine, exposing
its fallacies and tyrannical tendencies, he took his seat.
Mr. Kennon next arose, and with great justice touched
and vanquished these false pretences in favor of British
arbitrary power under their own constitution. He took
a rapid glance at the rights guaranteed to the colonies by
their several characters, securing self-government, the sole
power to make all taxes, or for any other purpose not in
compatible with Charters, and subject to the king's nega
tion ; and concluded, urging from arguments drawn from
Holy Writ, that there were times when it was the religious
and political duty of every man to resist power with war
and bloodshed. In rapid and vivid coloring he pointed
out the present condition of America, the trial now upon
the people, and, with great promptness, showed that the
present condition of the country was not unlike that of a
certain ancient nation, unto whom God, by the mouth of
his prophet, said to them, "cursed is every man that
keepeth -back his sword from blood!"

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 49
Still the profoundest silence pervaded the audience.
It evidently seemed that sentiments and feeling too big
for utterance, too serious to permit boisterous expressions
of applause, filled every thinking mind and thrilled every
beating heart.
Slowly, then, the distinguished, learned and universally
beloved Bavard rose from his seat, and standing six feet
and four inches in person, with a face pale with intense
thought, yet his eyes flashing promethean fire, in a deep-
toned melody of voice, said : —
" My Countrymen — Americans — We have listened to
the just and most impressive remarks made by the gifted
and patriotic gentlemen who have preceded me in this
discussion upon the present crisis of our whole country.
As to its nature and the mighty consequences involved,
there can be in my humble judgment but little difference
of opinion among men who love right and are capable of
appreciating civil liberty. 1 am myself now, as I have
been for some time, prepared boldly to assert, now is the
time for decisive action. What that action should be, we
are now here to determine. On the part of the king, who
is the head and constitutional representative of the parent
government, we are, as the proclamation just read and
commented upon by Mr. Balch, declared to be rebels and
traitors ! — no longer under the protection of the laws of
the realm, nor worthy of such protection. The rights of
the government and governed must, according to all just
principle and sensible construction, be forever reciprocal,
coincident, and corelative with, and dependant upon faith
fulness in the governor. This is the foundation of all
claim in the government to obedience and allegiance from
the governed. And when protection and a just adminis
tration of the laws cease, then cease also obedience and
allegiance. For more than ten years, nay twelve, the
people of these colonies have been made, under the un
warranted and misguided policy of the ministry, the king,
and the parliamentary enactments, to groan and endure
4

50 LEGENDS OF THE
till submission has ceased to be a virtue. Petitions, me
morials and remonstrances, couched in language no less
respectful than pathetic, and urgent, addressed to the
king, parliament, and the ministry, for a redress of griev
ances in the taxes imposed, and the cruel exactions upon
them in the way of fees, and in every variety of way by
the civil and ecclesiastical officers appointed and com
missioned by the English government, have flown like
carrier-pigeons or doves of peace across the Atlantic and
been laid at the foot of the throne. Yet none have been
regarded further than to elicit still greater burthens and
such violent and cruel denunciations as you have just
listened to. Yea, truly, " we have asked for bread and
they have given us a stone." They have sent to us hun
gry cormorants to feed and fatten on fees and exactions
wrung from our labor, care and toil, in amounts the most
unreasonable, and in forms the most unusual ; and sold,
or otherwise furnished to neighboring, ferocious savages,
arms the most deadly, who have come down upon us to
rob, murder, and devastate the country ! Are these, my
countrymen, the foundations on which rest his most royal
and gracious majesty's claims to our fealty — to our alle
giance? Nay, let me tell you, there is no alternative but
to make our necks ready for the riveting of the tyrant's
yoke, or, to resolve like men, born free, to declare our
selves independent ; to resist to the uttermost, yea, unto
death, the aggressions of power, so long and so inevita
bly designed and practiced to make us crouching slaves;
For my part, my countrymen, I choose the latter alterna
tive, and I here propose that the convention immediately
proceed to appoint a committee of three to draft and re
port to us, as speedily as convenient, a declaration and
. resolutions to that effect, for our consideration and adop
tion. I know, gentlemen, that we, here now assembled,
constitute but a small integral part of the colony of North
Carolina, and but few, very few, of the people of the colo
nies. I am fully warned that that which I now propose

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 51
to be done by us, through this committee, can not be any
more than obligatory upon ourselves, further than that of
an example persuasive in its nature, and may influence,
not only this whole colony, but also, in some degree, the
Continental Congress, now at Philadelphia, to pass, for
the whole nation, a like declaration of independence, for
ourselves, our children, and all coming posterity, freed
by the will and blessing of Almighty God, forever from
all British domination and tyranny !
On the question being put by the chairman and deci
ded in the affirmative, the three gentlemen whose ad
dresses we have been here so imperfectly reporting,
Messrs. Bavard, Balch, and Kennon, were appointed upon
that committee, and soon after retired to an adjacent
apartment to perform the services proposed. During Mr.
Bavard's speech, however, we may here remark, great
silence was maintained, and attention deep and solemn
given, with a very singular exception. Toward the close
of his address, and, at that point in which he spoke of the
declaration of independence, a cry from the back part of
the audience, several Irish and Scottish voices, as seemed
from the sound of words, were heard to utter :
"Ain't that trason — trason; who iver dar'd the likes
o'that?" The speaker paused for a moment, and then almost the
entire assembly cried out as with the voice of one man :
"Let us be independent — let us declare our indepen
dence." And some added — "And defend it with our
lives and fortunes."
In response, after silence was secured, Dr. Bavard
said :—
"Mr. President — It seems, even here, the coward
croakings of the slaves of the king are thrust upon us.
And here, suffer me to add, by way of conclusion, my
first and earliest hatred was, and still is, to all tyranny !
My first distinct impressions of history, remembered, are
those drawn from its living paintings of the hated tyrant's

52 LEGENDS OF THE
tread, and history's records of his atrocities ! My first,
most ardent, and most lasting love, was, and still is, the
love of liberty — liberty of conscience — liberty of speech —
liberty of action ! And if Heaven favor me, though it be
at the hazard of the loss of friends or fortune, though every
species of malice and detraction pursue me, though death
itself, in all its horrors, frowns and threatens before me,
while I am permitted to tread this green and beautiful
world, I shall walk in it in the erect soul of a freeman,
living as I was born, and dying as I shall have lived, un
fettered by any chains which arbitrary power can forge,
owning no master but God my maker !"
The committee then withdrew. Several speeches were
made by gentlemen, and considerable interest was excited
in the room of the assembly by a debate, which arose from
a question put by one of the delegates, quite prepossess
ing in his person and general appearance, but who had
been observed hitherto, in rather a moody tone of mind,
to occupy his seat, and who arose and addressed himself
to the speaker or chairman in words to this effect:
"Mr. President — If you resolve upon declaring inde
pendence, which is almost certain to be the purport of the
report which the committee you have appointed will make,
how shall we all be absolved from the obligations of the
oath we took, under Governor Tyron, to be true to King
George III. about four years ago, after the regulation
fight? Then we were all sworn, whole militia compa
nies, sometimes, together. I should like to know how
gentlemen can clear their conscience after taking that
oath?" The excitement thereby produced was instantly and
manifestly great throughout the entire assembly. It was
certain the gentleman had touched a chord which vibrated
quickly upon every reflective mind— all who attached
weight to the nature and solemnity of that oath. At
once the necessity was seen of a direct., explicit and 'satis-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 53
factory answer to the question. Some, however, in un
justifiable precipitancy, cried out:
" Such questions and difficulties are all nonsense."
Others, with great calmness and respectful considera
tion, took up, and, with considerable force, presented the
argument of Dr. Bavard on the subject of allegiance, or
any oath, expressly or impliedly, taken to the government
or the king. That the obligations upon the subjects or
the governed, to observe and faithfully maintain allegi
ance to the government or king, was perfectly reciprocal
and coincident with the obligations of the government or
king to protect and advance the interests and prosperity
of the people. That these the king and his government
had most grievously failed to do, and that, therefore, those
obligations were cancelled — that as the case now was,
such being the effect of the acts of the king and his gov
ernment, to declare independence was but an open pub
lic declaration of such cancelment and a determination to
set up a government for ourselves that would secure our
rights. One gentleman then arose, the venerable Mr. George
Walden, and in a few remarks, introducing a plain and
highly illustrative similitude, said : —
" If I am sworn to do a thing as long as that tree,"
pointing to a large oak that stood in the court-house yard
just putting forth its perennial leaves, "continues tore-
tain those leaves and furnish me with shade and comfort,
I am bound by that oath. But when the leaves fall, and
all shade and comfort is ceased, I am released from that
obligation." It was then decided, that when protection ceased, alle
giance ceased also.
The Convention then adjourned to meet again in the
morning at 10 o'clock.

54 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER V.

Declaration of Independence and other resolutions passed by the
Convention — Character and patriotism of the women of the .Revo
lution.

"We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good; what
authority surfeits on, would relieve us ; if they would yield us but
the superfluity while it were wholesome, we might guess they re
lieved us humanly ; but they think we are too dear ; the leanness
that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is an inventory to particu
larize their abundance ; our suffrage is a gain to them. Let us re
venge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes; for the Gods
know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge." —
Shakspeare. The hour of ten in the morning having arrived, the
chairman, Abraham Alexander, took his seat and called
the Convention to order. The secretaries also took their
position as on the day previous. Prayer was also had
by the Rev. H. I. Balch.
The speaker announced that the first thing in order
was the report of the Committee on Independence if it
was prepared.
Dr. Bavard then presented and handed to the secre
tary the report, which read as follows, to wit :
THE MECKLENBUEG DECLARATION .
" Resolved, 1st. That whomsoever directly or indi
rectly, abetted, or in any way, form or manner, counte
nanced the unchartered and dangerous invasion of our
rights, as claimed by Great Britain, is an enemy to this
country, to America, and to the inherent and inalienable
rights of man.
" Resolved, 2d. That we, the citizens of Mecklenburg

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 55
county, do hereby dissolve the political bands which have
connected us with the mother country, and hereby ab
solve ourselves from all allegiance to the British Crown,
and abjure all connection, contact, or association with
that nation, who have wantonly trampled on our rights
and liberties and inhumanly shed the blood of our Amer
ican patriots at Lexington.
" Resolved, 3d. That we do hereby declare ourselves a
free and independent people ; are, and of right ought
to be, a sovereign and self-governing association, under
the control of no power, other than God and the general
government of the Congress; to the maintenance of
which independence, we solemnly pledge to each other,
our mutual cooperation, our lives, our fortunes, and our
most sacred honor.
" Resolved, ith. That as we acknowledge the existence
and control of no law, nor legal officers, civil or military,
within this country, we do hereby ordain and adopt, as a
rule of life, all and each of our former laws ; wherein,
nevertheless, the crown of Great Britain never can be
considered as holding rights, privileges, immunities, or
authority therein.
" Resolved, 5th. That it is further decreed that all,
each, and every military officer in this county is hereby
retained in his former command and authority, he acting
conformably to these regulations. And that every mem
ber present of this delegation shall henceforth be a civil
officer, viz: a justice of the peace, in the charter of com
mittee men, to issue process, hear and determine all mat
ters of controversy according to said adopted laws ; and
to preserve peace, union and harmony in said county,
and to use every exertion to spread the love of country
and fire of freedom throughout America, until a general
organized government be established in this province."
As the secretary ceased to read, during which time he
was listened to with the most profound silence, and when
the chair was about to put the question for adoption or

56 LEGENDS OF THE
other disposition of it, a burly young man by the name
of Benjamin Rust, cried out in a most stentorian voice :
" Three cheers, 'cause them's my sentiments."
Instantly the entire assembly, as if startled by an elec
tric shock from a sort of revery into which their deep re
flection had carried them, rose up and shouted three
times. Nay, a number of ladies, the wives and daugh
ters of the friends of liberty, and especially the whigs,
having heard, even to the extremes of the county — nay,
nay, indeed, of the adjacent counties — of the Convention
and the spirited proceedings of the first day, in great
numbers crowded to the village ; staid, exemplary mat
rons, and young, rosy-cheeked and smiling damsels ;
and, having listened with unspeakable interest and so
licitude to the report of the committee, read in words
distinct and sonorous by the secretary, joined most
heartily in the cheering' proposed by Ben. Rust, and
mingled with great apparent delight in the general shout
that went up that day for liberty and independence.
Some of the mothers and daughters, it is said, with tears
of joy trickling down their cheeks, in token of their
hearty approbation of the resolutions, cast up high in the
air their tasty bonnets and fashionable high crowned caps,
little thinking of the consequences of the war that must
ensue, which had already commenced in Massachusetts,
and of the hardships, trials, dangers and devastations of
home and country, the sacrifice of the lives of husbands,
lovers, brothers and friends that should fall victims to its
cruelties and desolating rage.
But like their husbands, brothers and lovers, there that
day assembled, and like the heroines of ancient Greece
and Rome, they nobly resolved to dare war, and sacrifice
everything upon the altar of their country's liberty and
glory. Ah, reader, what a powerful stimulant, what an
incentive to heroic deeds and chivalric daring was here
given by those loved ones to those husbands, brothers
and lovers 1

WAB QF INDEPENDENCE. 57
Know ye not that there were no Tories, no fanatical driv
elers, no cowardly cringers and crown worshippers among
the women of the colonies during the sanguinary struggle
of, the American Revolution ? Ah ! but that the men of
war, soldiers and officers and all, had here, in this beau
tiful new world of the West,, homes they loved, and con
tinually encouraged by " the smiles from partial beauty
won," long ere the eight years' terrible fight with that
most powerful nation in the, world had ended or trans
pired, they would have sunk beneath the crush of that
mighty power the slaves of usurpation and oppression.
Oh, list to their oft repeated declaration of such inspi
rations, nerving their arm and cheering their hearts
amidst the cannon's loud thunders and the hottest of the
fight! Hear him who proved himself an almost un
matched hero while at the front of his forlorn and little
band, leading them to storm a redoubt before them, say
ing to his brave followers :
" That fort must this day be taken, or Molly Stark
(his wife) will this day be a widow ! "
Nay, listen- and mark the exclamation of that coura
geous soldier, who, being the first to leap, on another occa
sion, over the walls of an almost impregnable fort, filled
with the most experienced and invincible officers and sol
diers of the British king, just as he stands erect upon
that wall, cries :
" The day is our own ! O, my Sallie, 'tis you that
makes me brave ! "
O, glorious women of the Revolution — ah, how shall
we, your children, and your children's children, suffi
ciently prize, revere and emulate your virtues ; and in the
gushing fulness of adoring hearts, thank the Almighty
God for such mothers — such " unspeakable gifts ! "
But to pursue further the narrative of the additional
resolutions reported and adopted by this determined and
most patriotic body of citizens, in the various meetings
held by adjournment from day to day, to regulate and

58 LEGENDS OF THE
govern themselves and the people whom they represented
until a congress of the colony should be called and elec
ted by the whole people, would accomplish but little
more for the entertainment and instruction of our re
spected readers, than to exhibit the sound discretion and
resolute conservative action of men determined to be free
and preserve and enjoy the rich fruits of a free govern
ment instituted by their own hands.
The records of these additional labors are now before
us, well authenticated as genuine, bnt we forbear to
transcribe them in this work, as the reader might be wea
ried too much in the perusal ; but he may be assured
they unmistakably bear the impress of the heads and
hearts that gave forth to the astonished and wondering
world the Resolutions and Declaration of Independence
above inserted.
Certain it is that no state paper ever given, anterior to
its date, of which ancient or modern history gives any
record, is its equal for felicity of conception, fitness of
diction and perfect aptness of adaptation to the emer
gencies by which it was brought forth ; and no one since
its date, except the justly famed Declaration of Inde
pendence, made by the Continental Congress, at Phila
delphia, on the 4th of July, 1776.
The reader will observe that this last mentioned Dec
laration of Independence bears date nearly fourteen
months after that of the former, and yet it is difficult for
one to read and compare them with care, without con
cluding that both are essentially the production of one
head, heart and hand. But this we know from the most
indubitable proofs cannot be. Thomas Jefferson, late
the President of the United States, more distinguished
than almost any man that ever lived in America as a
statesman and philosopher, most unquestionably wrote
and reported it to the Congress that nobly adopted it.
And it is equally certain, that upon its production and
his manly support of it before that body, his great fame

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 59
as a patriot and statesman rested more than upon any
one or all of his thousand other distinguished acts in his
long and most useful life of public service.
How is it, then, the intelligent reader will very
naturally inquire — you have said Mr. Jefferson most
certainly drafted and reported this, more admirable and
important than any other State paper, and has received,
therefor, the highest honors ever awarded to him by his
country, for any other act of his long life ? — yet you tell
me, that the paper above copied from the proceedings of
the Convention at Mecklenburg, on the 19th and 20th of
May, 1775, was certainly the production of the learned
and patriotic Bavard of that Convention. I perceive,
upOn a careful reading of the two productions, that in
every material point, establishing the one or the other to
be a declaration of independence, and a clear and final
renunciation and abjuration of all future dependence
upon, or connection with the British Government, they
are, in language, thought, and effect, precisely the same ;
differing only in those particulars which adapt them to
the time and place, as well as the circumstances of their
production. Well, gentle reader, I fully admit the justice of your
statement of what I have said, and of your commentary.
I do contend, and wish to be distinctly understood to as
sert only, that although Mr. Jefferson himself drafted and
presented this glorious declaration of the Americans,
passed by the Congress in 1776, and that in the compo
sition thereof — in regard to the fitness and style to be
employed in that sort of production, as well as the em
phatic words and burning thoughts to be used — only did,
in justice to himself and the immeasurable importance
of the objects it was intended to accomplish, what every
man, with a tithe of his great intellect, would have done.
When the Convention of Mecklenburg selected Capt.
James Jack, a resident of Charlotte, to take their decla
ration to Philadelphia, or rather a copy of it, he placed

60 LEGENDS OF THE
it in the hands of that distinguished member from Vir
ginia. He, doubtless, perused it with equal wonder and,
approbation, and with all sound and discriminating dis
cretion, marked its style, force and effect as adapted to
an occasion upon which he had thought much already —
but postponed as inexpedient at that time, judging it were
better still to petition, beseech, and implore " his most
gracious majesty" for mercy to his " most loyal subjects
in America," — and taking notes, not of Virginia, but of
the Mecklenburg proceeding — as no man who ever lived
or ever will live could do better — laid the document aside
amongst his private papers, not showing it to his fellow-
congressmen, lest they might explode too precipitately
before the king could be again heard from, and never
afterwards acknowledged that he had seen it, as will be
seen by his letter to the elder John Adams, dated July 9th,
1819, and that he believed the document to be spurious.
Well, I just think as the reader will with me, that that
glorious old President ought to have had a better mem:
ory. But is the courteous reader still disposed to ask,
and what of all that ?
Why, I say, not much only as the Scriptures say,
" one man soweth and another reapeth ; " that Dr.
Ephraim Bavard sowed the good seed of the American
Declaration of Independence, and that President Jeffer
son cultivated them, and a little more than a year after
ward, reaped the rich harvest that gave his name and
fame as a proud inheritance to all the future generations
of our great republic as the originator, writer and re
porter of that stupendous state paper.
Bavard has, doubtless, ere now, reaped his reward in
Heaven. Thomas Jefferson has also died, and must stand
in judgment before the same righteous God.
In our next chapter we will indulge our readers with a
sight of the real correspondence, on the subject of the
Mecklenburg Declaration, to which we have alluded,
and then leave them to their own just conclusions.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 61

CHAPTER VI.

Original letters of Presidents John Adams and Thomas Jefferson,
on the subject of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence
in 1775, and as identical in substance with that of 1776.

" Fiat justiciaj ruat coelum."— Cicero.
" Let justice be done, though the heavens fall."
Sir Matthew Hale,
Tbue virtue, wherever and whatsoever time or occasion
exhibited, is always an active, living and fructifying
principle ; working and diffusing benevolence and good,
like God in creation, and in his abiding, overruling Pro
vidence, like the Redeemer of the world, its great ex
emplar, ever going about and doing good ! A principle
in man and in the economy of human life, God-like in its
nature, and no less distinguished for its power under God
to create good, than in diffusing and distributing it to
each and every one in fairness and justice, "in render
ing unto every one his just due — giving glory to him to
whom glory is due, honor to whom honor belongs."
In the selection of the maxim placed at the head of
this chapter, we have given one, which in our humble
judgment must receive the sanction and challenge the
admiration of all who love and practice virtue. But vir
tue, like its legitimate offspring, justice, is always dis
criminating, always discreet. And in making this selec
tion, we have a motive beyond that of recording and re
iterating a sublime and most fascinating axiom ; but more
materially, for the purpose of furnishing a justification for
yet farther continuing these fugitive Legends of the Rev
olution, and other remarks as to the real authorship of
that sublime and Heaven-crowned declaration to which

62 LEGENDS OF THE
this nation is indebted, no less than to the most signal
victory won upon the embattled field. The memory, the
reputation, the useful services, the dauntless acheivements
of that mighty agony for liberty, are the priceless jewels
of the nation's wealth, and must, as long as our republic
is prized and preserved, be Safely kept and cherished in
the great heart-casket of its gratitude.
To perpetuate, however, these in their purity and ex
cellency in the public esteem, and commend' them to the
popular mind as worthy of all imitation, the history that
gathers and records them must maintain and forever ob
serve the virtues of justice and impartiality, must feel
and even write in truth, and in conformity to our great
maxim — " Fiat justicia, ruat caelum!"
Upon these principles alone, would we wish to be un
derstood to act in giving now the correspondence between
the two great patriots and Presidents before named,
whose consantaneous birth to political and statesman
ship's distinction took place in the revolution; and who
almost miraculously, in regard to coincidence, died on
the same day (4th of July, 1826,) about the same hour
that they, with the other members of the august and
Heaven-inspired body passed and individually subscribed
to the first great continental exponent of American liberty,
amidst the loud hosanahs of praise and laudation to them,
more so than to any others, for their distinguished elo
quence and influence in urging its propriety and neces
sity. Aye, on that day, the anniversary of the fourth of July,
1776, the first and greatest jubilee of the nation's trium
phant joys, within sight and the hearing of their cannon's
roar and hallelujahs of praise to God for the unspeakable
gift of civil and religious liberty, these two patriots, full
of years and crowned with the highest testimonials of a
free and preeminently happy country, lay down to sleep
in death, embalmed by that country's tears, and pillowed
on its bosom of gratitude.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. DO
" But 0, how calm they sink to rest,
Who close their eyes on victory's breast ! "
In yet father pursuing this subject, we now proceed to
give, as above promised, a copy of two letters of the cor
respondence between these two distinguished statesmen
-^the authenticity of the originals of which is well attes
ted — on the subject of the Mecklenburg Declaration of
Independence :
Copy of a letter from Mr. Adams to Mr. Jefferson.
" Quincy, June 22, 1819.
'•'•Dear Sir: — May I enclose you one of the greatest
curiosities and one of the deepest mysteries that ever oc
curred to me; it is the Essex Register of June 5th, 1819.
It is entitled, ' from the Raleigh Register,' ' Declaration of
Independence.' How is it possible that this paper should
have been concealed from me to this day. Had it been
communicated to me in the time of it, I know, if you do
not know, that it would have been printed in every Whig
newspaper upon the continent. You know that if I had
possessed it, I would have made the Hall of Congress
echo and reecho with it, fifteen months before your Dec
laration of Independence. What a poor, ignorant, mali
cious, short-sighted, crapulous mass, is Tom Paine's com
mon sense in comparison with this paper. Had I known
of it, I would have commented upon it from the day you
entered Congress till the 4th of July, 1776.
" The genuine sense of America at that moment was
never so well expressed before or since. Richard Caswell,
William Hooper, and Joseph Hewes, the three represen
tatives of North Carolina in Congress you know as well
as I, aud you know that the unanimity of the States finally
depended on the vote of Joseph Hewes, and was finally
determined by him; and yet history is to ascribe the
American Revolution to Thomas Paine, sat verbum sqpi-
enti. " I am, dear sir, your invariable friend,
"JOHN ADAMS."

64 LEGENDS OF THE
President Jefferson to John Adams.
"Monticello, July 9th, 1819.
"Dear Sir: — I am in debt to you for your letters of
May 21st, 27th, and June the 22d. The first, delivered
me by Mr. Greenwood, gave me the gratification of his
acquaintance ; and a gratification it always is to be made
acquainted with gentlemen of candor, worth, and infor
mation, as I found Mr. Greenwood to be. That on the
subject of Mr. Samuel Adam Wells shall not be forgotten
in times and place, when it can be used to his advan
tage. "But what has attracted my peculiar notice is the pa
per from Mecklenburg county, of North Carolina, publish
ed in the Essex Register, which you were so kind to
enclose in your last, of June 22d. And you seem to
think it genuine ; I believe it spurious. I deem it to be
a very unjustifiable quiz, like that of the volcano so mi
nutely related to us, as having broken out in North Car
olina, some half dozen years ago, in that part of the
county, and perhaps in that very county of Mecklenburg,
for I do not remember its precise locality. If this paper
be really taken from the Raleigh Register, or quoted, I
wonder it should have escaped Ritchie, who culls what is
good from every paper, as the bee from every flower ; and
the National Intelligencer, too, which is edited by a
North Carolinian, and that the fire should blaze out all at
once in Essex, one thousand miles from where the spark
is said to have fallen. But if really taken from the
Raleigh Register, who is the narrator, and is the name
subscribed real, or is it as fictitious as the paper itself?
It appeals, too, to an original book which is burnt, to Mr.
Alexander who is dead, to a joint letter to Caswell, Hewes;
and Hooper, all dead, to a copy sent to the dead Caswell,
and another sent to Dr. Williamson, now probably dead,
whose memory did not recollect, in the history he has
written of North Carolina, this gigantic step of its county
of Mecklenburg.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 65
"Horry, too, is silent in his history' of Marion, whose
scene of action Was the county bordering on Mecklenburg.
Raotsay, Marshall, Jones, Gerardiri,'Wirt, historians of
the adjacent1 States', all silent. When Mr. Henry's reso
lutions—far short of independence— flew like lightning
thrOugh every' paper, and kindled both sides of the At
lantic, this flaming declaration of the same date of the
indepencence of Mecklenburg county of North Carolina,
absolving it frona the British allegiance, and abjuring all
political connection, although sent to Congress, too, is
never heard of. It is not known, even a twelve months af
ter, when a similar, proposition is first made in that bodyj
to have arrived. With this bold example, would not 'you
have addressed our timid brethren in peals of' thunder on
their tardy fears? Would not every advocate of indepen
dence have rung the glories of Mecklenburg county, in
North Carolina, in the ears of the doubting Dickinson and
others,' who hung so heavily on us ? ' Yet the example of
independent Mecklenburg county, in North Carolina^
was never once quoted. The paper speaks, too, of the
continued exertions of these delegates, (Caswell, Hooper
and Hewes',) in 'the cause of liberty and independence.
"Now, yOu remember as well' as I do,' that we had not
a greater' Tory in Congress than Hooper; that' HeWes'
Wa^ v6ry' wavering, sometimes firm, sometimes feeble, ac
cording as the1 day was 'clear or cloudy; that Caswell, in
deed, was a good Whig, and kept these gentlemen to the
notch, while 'hd was present; but that he left us soon, and
their: line of conduct became then uncertain, till .Penh
came, who fixed Hewek and the vote of the State.
"I must not be understood as suggesting any dbiibtful-
ness in the' State of North Carolina. No State Was more
fixed or forward. Nor do I affirm positively, that this
pa£>fer'is a fabrication: 'because' tie proof of a negative
can only be presumptive. ' But I /shall believe' it Buch un- '
til 'positive and solemn proof of its authenticity shall be'
5

66 LEGENDS OF THE
produced. And if the name of McKnitt be real, and not
a part of the fabrication, it needs a vindication by the
production of such proof. For the present, I must be an
unbeliever in the Apocryphal gospel. I am glad to learn
that Mr. Ticknor has safely returned to his friends; but
should have been much more pleased had he accepted
the professorship of our University, which we would
have offered him in form.
" Mr. Bowditch, too, refuses us ; so fascinating vinculum
of the dulce natale solum. Our wish is to procure na
tives, when they can be found, like these gentlemen, of
the first order of acquirement in their respective lines;
but preferring foreigners of the first order to natives of
the second, we shall certainly have to go for several of
our professors, to countries more advanced in science
than we are. I set out in three or four days for my other
home, the distance of which and cross mails, are great
impediments to epistolary communications. I shall re
main there two months ; and there, here, and everywhere.
" I am, and shall always be,
affectionately and respectfully yours,
"THOMAS JEFFERSON."
Here we should drop the subject of the authorship of
the Declaration of Independence, adding simply that the
writer of these Legends well remembers to have seen and
known the Rev. Hezekiah James Balch, who was one of
the committee of three who reported to the Mecklenburg
Convention the declaration of that body, 20th April, 1775,
more than forty -seven years ago, and after he had remov
ed to the State of Kentucky and engaged in the charge
of a school. He died in what is now called Todd county,
at more than seventy -five years of age, beloved and es
teemed. One word farther. Rev. Dr. William Henry Foote,
in his sketch of North Carolina, published in 1846, by
Robert Carter, 58 Canal Street, New York, attests in his

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. 67
work — from personal examinations of old records and con
versations with a few aged gentlemen and ladies still lin
gering on the shores of time and eye-witnesses to the
events — not only the truth of the existence of the Mecklen
burg Convention, but also of its Declaration of Indepen
dence. The genuineness of the letter of Mr. Adams to
Mr. Jefferson, and his answer in return, is put beyond
question, by the work of Jo. Seawell Jones, entitled,
" A defence of the State of North Carolina from the as
persions of Mr. Jefferson."

LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER VII.

PpoQeedipgs of tlie Whigs in the, colony of North .Carolina— Qpesr-
tions, ,asked and answe.red as to the causes of the tyranny that
overrides the nations of the earth, and' how the freedom of a na
tion can be effected.
" These things, indeed, you have articulated,
Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches ;
To face the garment of rebellion
With some fine color that may please the eye
Of fickle changelings, and poor discontents,
Which gape and rub the elbow, at the news
Of hiirlyburly innovation" — 1. Henry IV., Act V., Scene I.
" Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth."
— Julius Ccesar, Act V., Scene 1.
In very many towns and villages in the province of
North Carolina, after the general intelligence of the pro
ceedings at Charlotte had spread, meetings of the people
were called and like resolutions passed by them ; declar
ing the grievances upon them by the crown and parlia
ment of England, and upon the entire country — most par
ticularly upon their brethren, the inhabitants of Boston
and the colony of Massachusetts — avowing their determin
ation to resist all innovations upon their chartered rights,
by the British ministry, in claiming the right of taxation
without representation ; asserting that the course pursued
by the parent country, the cruelties inflicted upon the
people of Boston and the inhabitants of Massachusetts, in
the vicinity ; that the wanton murders perpetrated by
the armed soldiery had forfeited all right of sovereignty
and allegiance, and their firm resolve was to resist arbi
trary power at home and abroad.

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. 69
Ssillemn written covenants Were entered into by vast
aumfeers, land individually subscribed with their respect
ive names. Asa specimen of this, we subjoin the fol
lowing, as sufficiently illustrative of the many associa
tions of this character in nearly all the counties of the
province, and as expressive of the spirit and firmness of the
whole cojantry, excepting the Tories :
"An Association. — The unprecedented, barbarous
and bloody actions, committed by the British troops on
our American brethren, near Boston, on the 19th of
April, and 20th of May last, together with hostile opera
tions and treacherous designs, now carried on by the
tools of ministerial vengeance and despotism for the sub
jugation of all British America,, suggest to us the painful
necessity of having recourse to arms for the preservation
of those rights and liberties which the principles of our
constitution, and the laws of God, nature, and nations
have made it our duty to defend. We, therefore, the
subscribers, freeholders, and inhabitants of Tryon county,
do hereby faithfully unite ourselves under the most sa^
cred ties of religion, honor, and love of our country,
firmly to resist force by force, in defence of our national
freedom and constitutional rights against all invasions ;
and at the same time, do solemnly engage to take up
arms, and risk our lives and fortunes in maintaining the
freedom of our country, whenever the wisdom and coun
sel of the Continental Congress, or our Provincial Con
vention shall declare it necessary; and this engagement
we will continue in and hold sacred, till a reconciliation
shall take place between Great Britain and America, on
constitutional principles, which we most ardently desire ;
and we do firmly agree to hold all such persons inimical
to the liberties of America, who shall refuse to subscribe
to this association. (Signed by)
" John Walker, Charles McLean, Andrew Neal, Thos.
Beatty, Jas. Coburn, Frederick Hambright, Andrew
Hampton, Benjamin Hardin, George Peavis, William

70 LEGENDS OF THE
Graham, Robert Keandy, David Jenkins, Thomas Espy,
Perigrine McNess, James McAfee, William Thomason,
Jacob Forny, Davis Whiteside, John Beeman, John
Morris, Joseph Hardin, John Robinson, Valentine
Maury, George Blake, James Logan, James Baird,
Christian Carpenter, Abel Beatty, Joab Turner, Jonathan
Price, James Miller, Peter Sedes, William Whiteside,
John Dellinger, George Dellinger, Samuel Karbender,
Jacob Moony, Jr., John Wells, Jacob Castner, Robert
Halclip, James Buckhanan, Moses Moore, Joseph Kuy-
kendall, Adam Sims, Richard Waffer, Samuel Smith, Jo
seph Neel, Samuel Lofton."
These covenants and associations, thus diffused and cir
culated industriously among all classes of the inhabit
ants, settling the principles of resistance and making the
subscription thereto the test of enmity or friendship to
the country, brought them to the decision and choice of
sides they should take in the sanguinary contest to ensue ;
and thus arose the distinctive names of Whig and Tory.
The former, those resolved like true patriots and men,
determined to resist and be free, to do or die ! — men who,
like the Whigs of England, distinguished for opposition
to all arbitrary power, and to the new fangled assump
tions of prerogative, introduced first and practiced by the
Stuarts and their successors to the British throne, and
who unwaveringly and manfully stood upon the political
platform of the magna charta of England as the pallad
ium of civil liberty, against all mornachial, ministerial,
or paliamentary enchroachments or devices infracting
the integrity of the British Constitution. The latter, ever
the adulators of kings and arbitrary power against pop
ular right and all popular control ; advocates forever of
monarchial prerogative by construction rather than a just
and reasonable regard to the wishes and wants of the
masses. In the revolution, there was an attempt on the part of
the sovereign and his ministers to tax, ad libitum, the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 71
people of the colonies, resting their right to do so upon
the constructive argument of the prerogative of the king ;
and it was altogether consistent and natural that those
American^ here, who subscribed to that doctrine, should
go with the king and ministry, and hence all such were
called Tories as they are to this day called in England ;
while on the other hand, the Whigs, always lovers of the
largest rational liberty to the people, of the right of self-
government, and opposed to all assumptions of power by
prerogative, it was utterly incompatible with all their
views of right and principle to sanction them in this
case ; and hence they naturally, and of right, took and
maintained at all hazards, the name and principles of
Whigs. We pause not here to mention more at large
the distinctive claims to approbation or applause belong
ing to these two parties of the revolution most unhappily
existing ; retarding very greatly its progress and happy
termination, as well as being the fruitful cause of incal
culable human suffering, devastation and death. This is
no treatise on politics or religion, only as they or either
of them enter into, and stand in connection with a plain
narrative of facts or just description and appreciation of
character — adding only, that in verification of what has
almost grown into an adage, " names are nothing ; prin
ciples everything."
But to return. After the display of the spirit of the
people throughout North Carolina, as shown by the pa
per copied above as a sample of the hundreds that circu
lated and were subscribed to in all the counties of the
province, the reader will anticipate that some general as
semblage of the people would speedily take place ; and
as such an expression of the general mind and feeling of
the people may portray, in a more unmistakable light,
the general spirit and firm determination of action in the
inhabitants generally, of this noble old State, at the very
threshold of war, we will now proceed to present to the

72 LEGENDS OF THE
reader some ,of ,the resolutions passed by the Congress of
the colony, in session at Hillsboro', in the year 1775 :
"Resolved, That we approve of the proposal of a gen
eral congress, to be held in the city of Philadelphia, on
the 20th of September next, .then and there to deliberate
upon the present state of British Acqerica, and to take
such measures as they may deem prudent, tp effect the
purpose of describing, with certainty, the right? qf
.America ; repairing ,the breaches made in those rights,
and for guarding them for the future from any such vio
lations done under the sanction of public authority.
" Resolved, That ,we view the attempts made by the
ministers upon the town of Boston, as a prelude to a gen
eral attack upon the rights of the other colonies; and
that, upon the success of this depends, in a general meas
ure, the happiness of America in its present race, and in
posterity; and that, therefore, it becomes our duty to
Contribute, in proportion to our abilities, to ease the bur
then imposed upon the town, for their virtuous opposi
tion to the Revenue Acts, th#t they may be enabled to
persist in a prudent and manly opposition to the schemes
of parliament, ^nd render its dangerous designs abortive.
"Resolved, That liberty is the spirit of the British
Constitution, that it is tl^e duty, and will be the endeavor
of us all, to transmit this happy Constitution to our pos
terity in a state, if possible, better than we fouricl it ; and
that to suffer it to undergo a change which may impair
that invaluable blessing, would be to disgrace those an
cestors, who, at the expense of their blood, purchased
those privileges, which their dengenerate posterity are
jxtp weak or too wicked to maintain inviolate."
And here let me ask the intelligent reader to say,
whether or not, the n)ind that discerned and dictated
these calm and dignified exhibitions of popular sentiment
and of the duties owed themselves and true Americans,
in this trial of faith, relying upon the justice of their

WAB ,0F IN^EP^DENCE. 73
cause, i^not WO^by of praise andimita^tion ? and whether
the ^piijijt 9,nd manly conrage with Wi^ioh these patriots
entered into and carried out their great resolves,, did not
deserve to be crowned with success, and were not most
certain .to ]}e .so l?y \}]\6 .Messing :of a jus|t ,and pyejrruling
Providence •?
"Vyhere, in $# ^nn^lg.jpf history, ancient or modern, j§
there any instance recorded .Qjf a people, ffiW.ted in ,sentir
n?,ent, .spirit ,and action, moved by a manly emulation to
be fjqee jand unshacklgd ,by ,the manacles of pnreason^le
and unnatural ^utliqrity, looking up, in bumble trust and
Confidence to God, the spurce and donor of all th^t ip
good and merciful, thftt were not successful p None ; no,
there is none.
Why, then, it may be asked, are not the nations of
Europe delivered from ,th,e bonds of misrule and oppresr
sion under which they have grqaned for centuries, n^y,
thousands of years past? In them, there have been exr
hibited, from tim,e t(q time, yea, in most of tb,em, rer
peated uprisings $nd signal efforts to ithrpw off tihge^
chains and (drive oppression from tb,em 1 Yet, alas, how
futile, or rather terrific, have been the resjults ! H°V
generally, nay, h,9V uniformly, have all these attempts at
^evolution turned at last, as if only to mock their most
zealous advocates — proved only hot-beds to germinate
and rear the hydra monster of riot and anarchy, giving
bir^h and nursing to some ambitious flsesar or Bupna-
parte, bold to bestride and with iron will to guide, the
destroying Infernal! — gathering from the universal de
bris of all order, virtpe and good, in social life 0? politr
ical structure, intoxicating and blinding the common
mind with the dplusive glare of ambition, and being far
niftre tie children of Belial than of God ; having no affin
ity to anything heavenly an(j divine, seeking sanctuary
in an unholy, pervious and unhallowed union of church
and state, upheld by a corrupted, mercenary, aud ambi-r

74 LEGENDS OF THE
tious priesthood to tread and crush beneath tyrant heels
the fair spirit of liberty ! But yet, you say, the ques
tion is not solved. It still demands, with doubled inter
est, to be answered.
Well, and still I insist, no people firmly united in a
virtuous purpose, to be politically, morally, and reli
giously free — free individually, as well as socially, from all
external human force or constraint, so far as moral agency
and the exercise of choice and untrammeled volition are
concerned — can be, with the sanction and approbation of
Heaven, enthralled. Because God, in his holy Revelation,
has declared that men, yea, nations are to be judged and
rewarded or punished in righteousness, according as their
deeds shall be! "Because he hath appointed a day in
which he will judge the world, in righteousness, by that
man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given as
surance unto all men in that he hath raised him from
the dead." Mark you, the judgment of God is to be a
righteous judgment — based upon the eternal principle of
man's accountability ! Upon the principle that he, a ra
tional, accountable subject of his moral government, free
to choose that which is right and avoid that which is
wrong, and has qualified and required of him, in the full
exercise of a virtuous mind, to love, honor, and adore him
with a willing and undivided heart. " No man can serve
two masters."
Liberty of action, liberty of choice, liberty of conscience,
is Heaven's order, then; and whatsoever or whosoever
enchains and leaves not "free the human will," treads
with unhallowed feet upon Heaven's high behests and
cannot have Heaven's smiles and approbation. I assert,
therefore, that war unto blood, when entered into by a
people oppressed, to obtain and secure to themselves and
posterity, natural and moral liberty under God, and a
due submission to His law and government as revealed
in his Holy Bible, and the right of self-government, I say

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 75
a war for these purposes is perfectly right and virtuous.
Such, we contend, was precisely the object and aim of
the American people in the days of the revolution, and
Heaven approved and crowned them with victory.
But when the revolution of a people is but a war be
tween castes for individual aggrandizement, for purpose
of revenge, for the exaltation of one set of men by the
overthrow of others — however vile and unworthy these
others may be, and deserving their fate — for the purpose
of deifying and setting up men and worshiping them, to
the overthrow of the authority of God, or placing them
in the room or 'stead of the Almighty, or as His vice
gerent on earth, these may triumph for a season. But
God, unto whom "one day is as a thousand years and a
thousand years as one day, without change or the shadow
of change," who hath declared "vengeance is mine, and
I, the Lord God of Hosts, will repay," — will, ere it is
long, for these things bring them into judgment! Look
at the old world, look at the present world, look at France !
In very little more than half a century there have occur
red in her history three thorough and entire revolutions,
for the professed and ostensible purpose of acheiving civil
and religious liberty. Behold her now, bowed beneath
the iron-yoke of a despot ! It is true, that in each mighty
convulsion there was great apparent union of the people.
But analyze and find in what respect did that union con
sist? May it not be with certainty declared to have con
sisted in a blasphemy of the power and name of God him
self, and a war of extermination of the Bible and the re
membrance of it from the face of the whole earth ? Did
not its infuriated mobs in Paris and other cities make
bonfires in the public streets of all that could be found —
hunt down and extirpate all God's ministers, and even
impotently and impiously burn in effigy what they called
Jesus. Nay, who being given over to infuriated rout
and riot — maddened maniacs tO do the work and bidding

76 LEGENDS OF THE
of demons loosed for a season^made oceans of human
gore current along ,the streets, redden with innocent
blood the green gardens and fields of beautiful France,
and swell the tide of hejr rivers with sanguinary streams.
" Oh, infidelity where is thy shame, where is thy bkifih ?"
Nor will we ,stop here in this picture of the mono
mania of men under the specious guise of liberty ; never
theless, prompted and goaded by principles and motives,
denounced and condemned of all virtuous and enlightened
nien., and pf God, utterly failing, by reason .of those prin
ciples and purposes lying deep and smouldering beneath
the general huzza for free, civil, and religious rights J
Turn your eye upon Ireland— 'Ireland the beautiful Em
erald Isle of the sea — filled with the most ardent and
generous impulses, when properly directed, above almost
all the nations pf the earth — now, as for hundreds of
years past, oppressed and trodden to the dust, to famine
and death. By her cruel destiny, as some are pleased to
call it, Ireland has sometimes seemed united in her up
risings for liberty. But remember the union of Ireland
has always only been in semblance, only plausible, de
ceitful, hypocritical. Union is strength. But her strength
has been made weakness by her superstition and fanati
cism, making liberty and free government licentiousness ;
wooing the virgin and chaste goddess, to use a pagan
figure, and sacrificing at her altar with passion and infu
riated prejudice in the room of inspirations and ardent
longings and sighs for moral and rational, civil and relig
ious freedom. Ireland, with a population of eight mil
lions, filled with wit and genius of the most dignified
character, what is the matter ? Educated in passion, in
the spirit pf superstition and revenge, loosed from the
yoke and servitude of England, would, in a day, wildly
rant and riot in blood, and having glutted her rapacious
thirst for blood, .drawn from heretic England's boasted
ppmp and pride, would most certainly turn the sword, of

WAB" OF INDEPENDENCE. 77
Ireland against Ireland, as if bub to perpetuate her skill
in human butchery! What is the matter1? Her people,
the masses, are untaught of God.
They have listened to the profe&se'd expounders of the
messages of the meek and lowly Jesus!, and been taught
for' the Gospels of peace the lesson's ofj vengeance and1 of
infernal spirits, and of the cteed'that all are 'heretics who
dare to; think and act, but as licensed and sanctioned1' by
the dictums and decretals' of their priestly consociations !
Who teach, even to this day; that the crusad es carrying
fire'and! sword, death and destruction to the heathens of
Palestine; instead of the Bible and the altars of christian
worship, were not fanaticisms but in accordance1 with the'
christian^ faith and charity ; nay, prompted and sancti
fied by the spirit < of all holiness and' grace ! That the
cmto-dafe which denounces the anathema of the Church of
Rome against a< doomed heretic and delivers him or her
over' to the tortures, the fire and fagot of the holy inquis
ition, bireathes only God's unchanging love and tender1
mercies which He declares in his revealed word is over and'
unto all HisworkB ! And that the vicegerent of that God,
dwelleth at the Vatican, in the eternal city, and sits' in
solemn state in the once erring Peter's chair, dispensing
God's 'blessings1 or curse to a fallen world ! ¦
Suppose ye,' a'nation, aye, a people numbering millions,
and though1 ground' down with' burthens,political and ec1
OlesiaSti'cal, not' of" thefr choice1 or consent, yet imbued
with1 these1 teachings1,' and blinding, deadening supersti
tions, can they properly conceive and justly appreciate
civil ahd'religiouaslibferty V Can such1 calmly and correctly :
consider of the Wine 'and judicious construction' of a repub
lican government, guaranteeing to all,1 and to each, eqtial
rights,1 equal privileges; civil and- religious liberty of
speech1, liberty of- conscience, liberty of action? Ah'! I
would'to God; it were otherwise than' as it is. For that
people, your htitnble1 writer has long; with' all the power'

78 LEGENDS OF THE
of which he is capable, prayed to Almightly God that
they might be made wise, not only perfectly to conceive
of, but powerful to acheive civil and religious freedom.
I know that Ireland has a great number of the most
enlightened, the most talented, virtuous and pure patriot
citizens, equal to any that are to be found among the na
tions ; but in my poor judgment, if in the days that are
past, and now, and onward, the watch-word of her patriot
leaders had been as it now should be, educate, educate,
instead of agitate, agitate, she would nOw or soon would
be free. I allude to political and religious education.
Her patriot sons, many, very many of them, now and in
the past, have fully felt, and acting upon the magnanimous
sentiment, " a day, an hour, of virtuous liberty, is worth
a whole eternity of bondage," lifted high the flag of liber
ty, too soon, by the treachery of Irishmen, to be dragged
down and trailed in the dust and themselves handed over
to the merciless English gibbet. But I forbear pressing
this subject farther than to say, it is confidently be
lieved that throughout all the nations of the world and in
every land where tyranny and despotism prevail, in any
or all, however diversified in their degrees, the causes
are to be found and assigned therefor as existing in the
people — the masses! These are taught the enfeebling,
not to say the corrupting, doctrines of men they call spir
itual fathers — popes, cardinals, bishops and priests — that
they have no right to think for themselves ; and in an
aggregate point of view, it is astonishing to conceive how
large a proportion of them never learn to think to any pur
pose ! Usurpers and tyrants of every grade manage to
corrupt, purchase, overawe, or make dupes of those spir
itual fathers, and they in turn dupe the people by means
of their ghostly authority, chicanery and wizzardism, and
pretended mission from Heaven! The priesthood cun
ningly devise and work upon the wicked and corrupted
popular mind for the benefit of the arbitrary power of the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 79
state, the king, emperor, or other despotic ruler, relying
upon such for the perpetuation of their own power, domi
nion, and aggrandizement. Aye, friendly reader, in
every land, in every country where the unhallowed union
of church and state prevails, there is a moral and politi
cal putrescence eviscrated^a deadly miasma, as destruc
tive to civil and religious liberty as the fabled breezes
passing from or over the Upas tree are destructive to all
animal life ; or, as the boa constrictor's horrid embrace,
in a thousand convolutions, wound around the body of its
victim, must bring death. Can a people thus circum
stanced, thus taught, made to believe "ignorance is
bliss," understand and appreciate the just structure of a
free government and with an apprentice skill build it up ?
Alas! never — never. So true are these statements, the
utter incapacity and indisposition of those who, unfortu
nately, have been reared and schooled in the monarchies
of even the most enlightened portions of Europe, that
when come to this enlightened land and privileged to en
joy all the guarantees of life, liberty and property of our
free constitutions and benign system of laws upon the
single condition of conformity thereto, afford ample and
sure evidence. The transition is so great it is hard
to discipline them to the rational and virtuous pro
prieties of the country. Often, too often, with them liber
ty is licentiousness. Look at South America! Look at
Mexico ! For more than forty years in these, one revolu
tion for liberty has followed in swift and most destructive
succession after another ; all professedly and, we believe
sincerely, for civil and religious freedom, and still what
is the liberty acquired ? Fearful anarchy, it is true, the
worst of governments, has sometimes been brought about ;
but yet, in every instance of the erection of government,
its nature and essence are tyranny and oppression ! No,
no. You can make no people free, brought up and rear
ed in ignorance, folly and vice. You must first properly

80 LEGENDS OF THE
educate and prepare them for it. Educate them; and let-
the pure principles of the gospel, unsophisticated and un-
contaminated by a priesthood of any name, be the chief
subjects of instruction! Let these furnish the seed and
their disciplining influences prepare the " good ground,?'
then republicanism will rise and flourish in every land as
if by spontaneous vegetation ! Pure religion is the resur
rection of the soul of man on earth, to every thing-hope-'
ful and good ; and when cherished in the heart and prac
ticed in the life, prepares' individuals and communities
for every good word and wOrk.

WAB OF INDEPE.NDENOE. 81

CHAPTER VIII.

A somewhat minute examination of the principles and spirit of the
Whig and Tory population in the country, generally, and particu
larly in North Carolina — The Scenery of North Carolina, &c.

"Good, my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you
hear? let them be well used; for they are the abstract, and brief
chronicles of the tirae." — Hamlet, Act IL, Scene 2.
In the preceding pages we have said but little upon
the subject of the chief difficulties encountered by the
friends of revolution and resistance of the British author
ities in the colonies, arising from within their own limits.
These, truly, were in many respects very embarrassing.
Although it was happily the case, that nineteen-twen-
tieths, at least, of the native Americans, at once cordially
and actively engaged in the advocacy of the war, and
thereby secured to the Whigs a most nattering prospect
of union and ultimate success, still the perfect union of
a people necessary to guarantee a speedy and happy con
summation of the desires of the patriots, a total indepen
dence of" all foreign countries, was greatly retarded by To
ries or royalists, as they called themselves, apparently
actuated by the same general views and motives in their
opposition to the war, but in fact, widely differing in
many material points. These were four-fifths, or three-
fourths, at least, of foreign birth and European educa
tion ; knowing nothing, practically, of free government,
very little theoretically, and as little caring on the sub
ject. Many stood connected, by marriage and business, with
native Whig families, and many by lives of correct de
portment, hitherto, had sustained and deserved to sustain
6

82 LEGENDS OF THE
unexceptionable characters in the circles of their ac
quaintance, and for a time wielded much influence.
Fortunately, however, these were generally of the class
least corrupted by vicious lives, malignant minds and
habits, but chiefly influenced to their opposition from
false or mistaken views of religious obligation to God,
such as non-resistance to kings, &c; while as many
more, from an honest belief of the inevitable failure of
the revolution and the dire consequences to themselves
and the whole American country resulting from that fail
ure, using all their influence, by persuasion and power, to
frighten others, greatly impeded for a time the progress
of the cause. But unfortunately for the country this class
of the Tories, were not, by large odds, so numerous as a
class of them of whom we must now speak, and who cer
tainly were far less to be tolerated and excused.
There was another class Of Tories, or royalists, unfor
tunately more numerous, and still far more malignant
and vicious in their tempers and practices than either the
former. All the colonies suffered more or less during
the war from these, but especially those of Pennsylvania.
Delaware, Maryland, New Jersey, Virginia, North Car
olina, South Carolina and Georgia. They were all, or
nearly so, the more recent emigrants from Europe, or
their immediate descendants.
They were essentially different from the first class de
scribed, wholly given up to murder, robbery, theft and
pillage ; indeed to every species of crime blackening the
dark catalogue of human cruelty and iniquity; most of
them pleading conscience — truly, as quickened and in
structed by their spiritual teachers, popes, cardinals, bish
ops and priests, Catholics and Protestants, in the old as
well as the new country — that it was unlawful to resist
magistrates, &c, whether in the right or wrong ; but
giving in every instance the most unquestionable proofs
that conscience was not in the least degree involved, but
an insatiable love of crime, cruelty and blooded istrust-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 83
ing, it is probable, like the other class of Tories, the final
success of the revolutionists and seeming to espouse from
principle the royal cause, nevertheless, only as a cover to
the horrible iniquities for which they thirsted, which they
deemed the disordered state of the country happily fitted
to gratify.
Of the former class, John and William Harpe, the two
Scotch brothers heretofore spoken of and described, may
be set down with many others — Covenanters, Presby
terians, Methodists and Lutherians.
Of the latter class, the two sons of the Harpes, Wil
liam, or big Bill Harpe, and Joshua Harpe, with hosts of
McDermots, Gleasons, Glutsons, Ernests, Turners, Mc-
Donnoughs, Midriffs, Campbells, and many others whose
names need not be mentioned — all thieves, murderers
and robbers, who seized upon every possible occasion for
the gratification of their vile propensities, regardless of
time, place, age, sex, or color.
So terrific were their deeds of cruelty and blood, so sly
and clandestine were their descents upon the defenceless
wives and children of the Whigs, called away in the ser
vice of the country and absent from their homes, that all
the terror and alarm produced by the invasions of the
most merciless and ferocious savages upon the frontiers,
in the earliest settlements of the West, never surpassed.
Husbands, sons and brothers, whose wives, sisters and
daughters were, in their absence from home, made the
victims of these worse than savages, were often driven to
the greatest excesses of retaliation, and sometimes made
themselves the judges and executioners of the most sum
mary justice, in the most Unprecedented cruelties, long
after peace was declared.
But as it is by no means expected, in these rapid
glances at men and things in the great drama of the revo
lution, to teach ethics or politics, we ask forgiveness of the
reader for this seeming digression, and return to a more
strict adherence to the purposes of our narratives. Much,

84 LEGENDS OF THE
it is true, biographers and historians have already writ
ten in general views of North. America and its inhabi
tants at the time of this great war. Of North Carolina,
however, in the general rivalry that seems to have existed
among them to laud and magnify some other favored
portions of the colonies, and certain favorite heroes of
that struggle for the liberties of freemen from other quar
ters, they found but little space and few facts to speak or
to more than mention, in meagre praise, indeed j her par
triots, and sages ; while many of her sons, for civic vir
tues, deeds of prowess and noble daring, have been passed
by, although entitled, to the highest applause. The con
sequence has been that upon the minds of a large portion
even of our own countrymen, the opinion has been, im
pressed, that, to judge from what is recorded by his
torians, the people of that State did little of what was
really accomplished by them during the long eight years
of the revolution — that, so far as history credits them*
they are rather facetiously represented in the person of a
feeble old man, who, like old Rip Vanwinkle, greatly
alarmed, and trembling at the first onslaught of battles
and death, closed his eyes that he might not see their
havoc, and, falling asleep like an affrighted child, never
awoke till independence was fully established ! and whose
first wild waking exclamations were still, as they had
long, been before his frightful snooze, in piteous howls,
supplications,, and prayers for mercy to "His most gra
cious Majesty."
" Myne loats, te ging, vat for, you makes de daxes, py
tarn?" But we are thankful to record, she also had her host of
great and virtuous heroes and statesmen, of sleepless vig
ilance and dauntless courage, who poured copiously their
richest libations of Wood upon the altar of their, country's
liberty ; whose virtues, patriotism and zeal, worthy of the
cause and all future imitation, shall stand as beacon lights
to earth's teeming generations. Again, on the other

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 85
hand, there were, it is lamentably true, in the bosom of
this good Whig colony, multiplied hundreds of the inhab
itants, who proved themselves to be Tories, capable of
the blackest crimes, Steeped in the blackest shades of hu
man degradation, followed at last by the swiftest judg
ments of God, and afflicted even in this world, with the
most terrible punishments, the narration of which might
be profitable, by Way of example, to teach most forcibly,
the word of the Almighty, that "the way of the trans
gressor is hard."
We have already pretty plainly intimated, that to dis
tinguish to some proper extent these different classes of
the people of North Carolina, at the time of the " trial of
men's souls," under consideration, we will proceed so to
do. First, however, as we must in a good degree speak of
various occurrences as well as men acting in a variety of
scenes within her limits, then principally the haunts of
bears and panthers, and savage tribes ho less ferocious, it
will be courteous, at least, to introduce our readers and in
itiate them to a general view of the face of the country.
On one side we behold towering mountains, rising in
perpendicular grandeur, toward the highest soaring
clouds; the summits tipped with the sun's rich and
mellow rays; from whence to behold the vast plains
beneath, "dressed in Eden's brightest bloom," irrigated
by a thousand rivulets, cascading and chiming in joyous
praise to Him the maker and builder of these magnifi
cent structures. Again, to be permitted, as in truth the
lover of nature may — having ascended those grandly
towering mountains, forming portions of the famed Al-
leghanies — in one sweep of vision count and trace the
winding ways of nearly a dozen foaming rivers, taking
their rise as it were at his feet, roaring and rolling, some
east, south-east, and some south to the Atlantic shores of
Maryland, Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia; and
others, in majesty and power, hastening west and north-

86 LEGENDS OF THE
west to pour their tributary floods into Mississippi's rush
ing tide!
In vain may we search the pages of history, poetry, or
even geography to find adequate descriptions of the love
ly plains, rich and generous soils, always repaying " the
tiller's toil," which lie in Virginia, North Carolina and
Georgia, east of the Blue Ridge, averaging a width of
from fifty to seventy-five miles and stretching along its
base more than three hundred. This region of country,
within the limits of North Carolina, in the times of the
revolution, was comparatively sparcely populated, and
agriculture had made but small progress. It may be
said the country was yet new, and the inhabitants
rough and uncultivated. Relying much upon game for
the supply of their families, they engaged in hunting
excursions two or three times a year, in which they pre
pared and preserved for domestic consumption the choice
parts of deer, buffalo, elk and bear, found in considerable
numbers, bordering upon the Blue Ridge, and in the
country beyond. Accustomed to these periodical ex
cursions for game, and occasionally to repel and dis
perse the marauding Indians, who often stealthily crept
within their neighborhood to steal horses and drive
off cattle, and sometimes to kill and scalp defenceless
families found in their course, the inhabitants of the
colonies acquired great expertness in the use of the rifle,
and much of the qualities and experience best calculated
to make them the most reliable soldiers and dangerous
enemies. But we set out in this part of our book to give the
reader a somewhat graphic view of the country at the
time of the commencement of the revolutionary war, so
far as relates to its sublime and picturesque beauty and
general scenery. We will now proceed. But as in a
recent publication, the remarks of a very pleasant writer,
giving, it is believed, a truthful though glowing descrip
tion of this very interesting portion of our American

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 87
Union, is now before us, we beg leave here to adopt it
and quote it in part as equal to any thing that can be
written or said on the subject. He says :
"The great artist, in his lavish adornment of our happy
land, has not been unmindful of any part, least of all, of that
of which we now write. None of the fair sisterhood of
States may boast more winning charms than those of the
sunny-land; or if, perchance, they be wanting in certain
features, they possess compensating beauties peculiar to
themselves alone. Proud mountain heights lift th'r voice of
praise to Heaven;1 the thunders of Niagara are echoed by
Tallulah ; as the gentler prattle of Koaterskill and Trenton
is answered by Ammicolah and Toccoa. For the verdant
meadows of the North, dotted cottages and grazing herds,
the South has her broad savannas, calm in the palmetto
and the magnolia; for the magnificence of the Hudson,
the Delaware and the Susquehanna, are her mystic la-
gunes, in whose stately arcades of cypress, fancy floats at
Will through all the wilds of past and future. In ex
change for the fairy lakes of the North, she has the loveli
est of valleys, composed and framed like the dream of
the painter — turf-covered Horicans and Winnepisseogees.
Above her are skies soft and glowing in the genial
warmth of summer suns, and beneath lie mysterious
caverns whose secrets are still unread. We will briefly
speak of the various types of landscape beauty in the
South, instancing the most memorable examples of each.
The distinguishing mark of the mountain scenery of the
Southern States, as contrasted with that of the North, is
its greater picturesqueness and variety of form and quan
tity. The grand ranges of the Oatskills and the Adi-
rondes, and the peaks of the Green, and the White
mountains, are but outer links of that mighty Alleghanian
chain, which, centering in Virginia, rears its most famed
summits in Georgia and the Carolinas. The Alleghanies
in the Northern States move on in stately and unbroken
line, like saddened exiles, whose stern mood is ever the

88 LEGENDS OF THE
same, and whose cold features are never varied with a
smile; while in their home in the South, every step is
free and joyous! Here they are grouped in the happiest
and the most capricious humor ; now sweeping along in
graceful outline, daintily crossing each other's path, or
meeting in cordial embrace ; here gathered in generous
rivalry and there, breaking away sullenly in abrupt and
frowning precipices. All is Alpine variety, intricacy and
surprise. Seen from the general level, the mountains are
ever sufficiently irregular in form to offer grateful con
trasts, here and there in their unstudied meetings, leav
ing vistas of the world of hill and dale beyond ; while
the panorama views command vast assemblages of ridge
and precipice varied in every characteristic ! — the large
in opposition to the small, the barren in contrast with the
wooded, the formal and the eccentric, the horizontal and
the perpendicular, wh.ile a fairy valley in which the
Abyssinian prince might have rambled, a winding river,
a glimpse of road-side, or a distant hamlet, lend repose
without monotony to the landscape."
Thus glowing in the most poetic raptures and imagery,
our author proceeds to designate and describe particular
instances of the most rare productions of nature in this
truly fascinating country, seen and admired by the obser
vant traveler, leisurely passing through the plains lying
along and extended for many miles east of the Blue Ridge ;
or, perhaps, more properly speaking, the Alleghany
mountains — mountains of extraordinary height, of every
diversity of shape, form and appearance ! Cataracts and
cascades of greater or lesser note ! Vast caverns, yet not
fully explored — widening and enlarging from their com
paratively narrow debouch, onward and backward to an
undefined extent — exhibiting, when powerfully illumina
ted, a vast cosmogonism beneath terra firma, canopied by
a broad expanse, resembling the blue etherial, bedecked
with myriads of corriscative lights, emitted by the mil
lions of water drips congealed, giving to the beholder the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 89
complete imagery of an unclouded, moonless night, amid
¦the genial beamings of the stars of Heaven!
In many of these caves, Indians making incursions in
to the early settlements of Georgia and the Carolinas, to
murder, steal, &c, when boldly pursued by the inhabi
tants, were wont to hide themselves ; and, as in the in
stance referred to in the conversation of Capt. Davidson
and Wood, set forth in the first chapter of these narra
tives, secure themselves perfectly from molestation ; but
at the mouths ^of some of which there were sometimes,
proportioned to the numbers engaged, the most sanguin
ary battles fought ever witnessed in the wilds of the
South. We may not, however, in justice to ourselves and con
sistently with our great desire to impart entertainment to
our kind readers, as well as a more perfect view of the
country in which many of the most thrilling scenes of the
revolution occurred, before turning their attention to other
topics more directly indicated by the title of these tales,
fail to present a brief description of the stupendous and
beautiful Arrarat mountain of North America — standing
out proudly, " solitary and alone," in the bosom of the
plains we have been considering and within the limits of
North Carolina. Many beautiful landscapes are on every
hand seen as we approach from the Atlantic shore and
arrive in the neighborhood of the Blue Ridge. For many
miles the traveler beholds in the distance west, this gor
geous "lusus naturae," touching, as it were, the blue cur
tains of the Heavens and the tesselated summits of that
ridge ! Rising in a pyramidal form, more than two-thirds of
a mile, thence culminating to the height of three hundred
and fifty feet- perpendicularly, a perfect cylinder of solid
rock, till it reaches its apex, forming an area of an acre of
level surface, and commanding a most imposing and cap
tivating view of the surrounding country for many miles.
And as he stands fearfully, yet wishfully, viewing its
majestic height, desiring to be borne to its summit and

90 LEGENDS OF THE
catch a Pisgah's sight of some fancied Canaan beyond,
gazing upward, yet despairing of its accomplishment, in
a nearer approach to its base at the northeast side he
finds, in delightful disappointment, a "winding way;"
whether formed by nature in completion of her playful
fancy, or by the art and skill of a race of aborigines
that there once lived— now gone to the dark abyss of
eternal forgetfulness — must forever be unknown! Yet
he finds it perfectly accessible and practicable, by means
of gentle steps, carved semi-horizon tally round and round
the vast rock cylinder, to arrive at it.
Arrived, it is true, he sees no Canaan or promised
land, but lovely visions rise and rapturous thoughts gush
in harmonious wonder and praise of the mighty archi
tect of the universe. Casting his eyes north and north
east, or west, the Blue Mountain, at the distance of
thirty miles, its nearest point, grandly rises like a broad,
gaudily painted belt, bordered or crimpled with pearl,
kissing the highest rolling clouds ! While again, turning
toward the south, he traces with surprising exactness the
transparent current of the beautiful Yadkin, laving the
Arrarat's base with its glittering, gently rolling waters
— like a bright silver cord marking its wandering way
thirty or forty miles in the direction of the broad Pedee.
Captivated by the view of the multitude of objects in na
ture and art, spread out afar off, his eyes experience no
painful sensation, however taxed, but seem aided all the
time, by a sort of prism formed in the atmosphere, or
thin clouds below, the convexity of the rays of light
bringing these distant objects to a plain and horizontal
line, — an optical illusion, which, though perfectly the
result of natural causes, is nevertheless exceedingly rare,
and not demonstrated at any other place known to the
writer.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 91

CHAPTER IX.

The Whig women of North Carolina — A few touching biographical
sketches of them during the war — Uncle Dan and his colored
company, with his old "ooman" at her cabin — Major Kidd and
his corps on a trip to Major John Adair — A hard fought battle
between two African slaves, Csesar and John, servants of Lawrence
Smith, against five Tories and one Indian — They effectually de
fend their mistress and her daughters, killing two, and des
perately wounding a third.

!' Here woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life ;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel — guard of loves and graces lie,
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.
Where's that land, that spot of earth to be found ?
Art thou a man ? — a patriot ? — look around,
Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home." — Montgomery
What's hallowed ground ?< — when mourned and missed
The lips our love has kissed;
But where's their memory's mansion? Is't
Yon church-yard's bowers'?
No, their souls exist
A part of ours. — Campbell.

Hithebto these Legends have been dedicated to an ex
hibition of the causes which led to the war of the Amer
ican revolution and the inspirations of love of country
and liberty which nerved the arms and prepared our
patriot fathers for the mortal fray, resulting in the
achievement of the independence of the States. His
torians, it is true, in a very few instances, have dropped
a thought or two in very brief commendation of a small

92 LEGENDS OF THE
number of self-sacrificing and noble citizens of North
Carolina! But in these sparce instances there was a
wide space which might justly have been occupied by
them, left altogether untouched. And it is confessed to
be in some measure the motive, prompting the publica
tion of these reminiscences of the time of the revolution,
to do justice, in some degree, to the memory of her sons
who have gone down to the tomb and whose awards of
gratitude have never yet been made. North Carolina
had, in that distinguished struggle, many men, alike
public-spirited and talented, far less ostentatious and
boastful, it is certain, than many of those of her sister's on
her northeastern border, whose ample praise has long since
been chaunted and sung, and largely rewarded with the
highest offices and honors ever yet conferred, while the
no less distinguished abilities, public and private virtues,
of her Harneys, Harveys, Ashes, Nashes, Cogsdells,
Alexanders, Grahams, Johnsons, and a host of others, are
gone to the tomb unwept ; and whose names have been —
if not ungratefully suppressed by the happy and teeming
generations of the nation, who have, and now are reap
ing and enjoying the rich fruition of their toil and labor,
both in the cabinet and the field — suffered to sleep with
them in their silent graves and not a monument or stone
to tell their worth ! Some justice must yet be done in a
nation's gratitude to perpetuate and consecrate their hal
lowed memories. Nor do the suffering, untiring, and
most self-sacrificing women of any people, clajm higher
eulogium than the matrons, wives and daughters of
patriots of that good old State.
We have in the preceding chapter said there were no
Tories among the women of the days of '76 and during
the extended agony which followed — we are sustained in
the assertion by a thousand striking instances illustrative
of the fact. Before, however, entering into a detail of
such proofs, we must bring to the consideration of the
reader, the circumstances which surrounded these fe-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 93
males, during most, if not throughout the revolutionary
contest. They were exposed to four descriptions of enemies and
on the frontiers, especially the colonies of Virginia, North,
Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, touching the Blue
Ridge andAlleghanies, and lying, east and south of those
mountains, were daily subject to the ravages of the- fierce
invading savages. These were the King's invading troops,
the Tories, the slaves induced by the British and Tories
to engage against their masters and mistresses, and lastly
the Indians.
Compelled while their husbands, brothers and sons
were campaigning and in the fields of battle, often far
distant from them, to remain at home, constantly subject
to the most insidious and brutal attacks from one or all
of them, and made the victims of the most hellish lusts
or bloodthirsty massacres, yet these true heroines' of
the revolution murmured not — endured it all! Nay,
when the call came for their husbands-, brothers, &c, to
muster to the tented-ff eld, instead, of a sigh or a groan,
or a plea of any land to stay or impede their march,
often and not a few of them were heard to say, in all the
gushing feelings of a heroic woman's heart:
"Go, my husband — my son — or my lover, (as the case
may be), God is my shield !— Heaven my guard ! — and
remember Libebty is the prize at the end, for you and
those you leave at home. 1 "
Aye, there lives even now, within the limits of happy
Kentucky, the widowed, relict of one of her most highly
honored citizens ; who, then a girl, witnessed and yet in
thrilling tones narrates such scenes. We mean the ven
erable Mrs. C. P. A., who repeats the very words above
quoted as those Bpoken in her presence, by a devoted
wife to her husband just starting on a campaign ! Truly
thatwoman's faith and trust was in God, as it was the
faith and trust of thousands of her country-women, for
they felt that He who had called the sons and daughters

94 LEGENDS OF THE
of the colonies to enlist in this great cause of human
liberty, against the haughty Briton and the odious feudal
systems of Europe, was faithful, inspiring them with the
true spirit of independence ; leading their armies to vic
tory and triumph, and often, almost miraculously, stoop
ing Heaven to shield and protect the innocent and de
fenceless ! Some of these were highly distinguished and
greatly useful. A few ot them we will specially here
mention :
Mrs. Esther Simpson, the wife of Major John Simpson,
the mother of four sons and two daughters, claims first
the attention of the reader.
She was, in 1776, about forty-five years of age, possessed
of a fine person and constitution, a warm and generous
heart and intellectual head. For several years the lather
and four sons were actively engaged in the service of the
country, and all among the most brave and useful officers
and soldiers espousing its cause. They fought faithfufly
in the battles of Shallowford, Camden, Guilford, Kings-
mountain and the Cowpens. Frequently all were cam
paigning at once, and absent from home in the most
troublesome times with the Tories and Indians.
Major Simpson was wealthy, owning a large farm, well
improved and a large family of African slaves. With
this large farm and family in her charge, sufficient to en
gage the minds and fill the hands of ninety-nine out of a
hundred of the most courageous, still Mrs. Simpson, this
brave lady, found time night and day, in her own imme
diate neighborhood and, indeed, far around, to throw her
mantle of care and kindness over her poor and suffering
neighbors; ministering medicines and the most judicious
nursing to the sick ; the words of comfort to the dying,
and food to them that needed it. She was often pleasantly
called, by the country people, Doctor Simpson — so useful
was she to the sick 1 She had been a kind and considerate
mistress to her slaves, and the law of kindness had always
been well tempered and mixed with a course of discipline

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 95
among them, as far as necessary to maintain the proper
subordination and government of so large a collection of
servants, numbering near one hundred. And we record
with pleasure, to the honor of that degraded race, the
Africans, in the family of the Simpsons, made just re
turns of gratitude and faithfulness for the kindness re
ceived. She fully confided in their affection and fidelity,
although she had been often informed by several of them
that the Tories, more than one and even two British offi
cers, Capt. Carlton and Ensign Storey, on one occasion
had endeavored to allure them by promised rewards, as
well as threats of vengeance, to join against their mistress
and her family. She actually procured and placed in
the hands of sixteen of the youngest of the men, guns and
every other accoutrement necessary; put these under the
command of her foreman, Uncle Dan, as all called him,
or big, Dan, as he was sometimes called, to be ready at
all times to defend herself and family, and drive off, if
need be, the thieving Tories from the farm and the neigh
borhood, in case they should attempt to steal her horses,
cattle, &c.
These negroes were all genuine Whigs you may be
assured. From their kind and intelligent mistress they
were fully instructed in the principles of the cause and
gave evidence that they emulated the spirit and patriotism
of their masters. There was not one of them that would
not have laid down his life in the discharge of his duty,
in protecting his mistress, and indeed, any of the family.
It was frequently a source of pleasant entertainment to
the mother and .daughters, in the absence of the father
and brothers, to see Uncle Dan, of an evening, in all the
pride and pomp of a military parade, in miniature, mus
tering his men and marching his sooty troops, to the in
spirations of the piercing fife and sonorous drum, playing
the universally popular national air, "Yankee Doodle."
Their brave and faithful captain, meanwhile, in much
mock dignity and gravity, most befitting his blushing

96 LEGENDS OF THE
honors, seeming resolved to win, by his fidelity and
prowess — "A name of fear,
That tyranny shall quake to hear,
And leave to his sons, a hope, a fame,
That they should rather die than shame."
The reader would doubtless himself have been amused
to witness the staid and self-possessed look, the exercise
of sound discretion, this good and simple hearted old black
man kept up, down among the negro cabins and out on
the farm ; directing and controlling its entire cultivation,
maintaining at all times complete submission to his wifi
and judgment, subordinate to those of his mistress.
Uncle Dan had a cabin of his own, in which his kind
and faithful "old ooman" as he called her, Aunt Molly (the
name she bore with all the rest,) usually occupied ; proud
enough in all certainty of her husband, as he was for
many years, foreman of the place; but now, especially
since his promotion by his mistress to the high office of
captain of the troops. One day after the labors of the
morning and the arrival of the hour of noon, when all
hands knocked off, as it is called, for dinner, Uncle Dan
entered his cabin with a pleasant countenance, at once
understood by Aunt Molly as signifying that he had
something good to accomplish or tell her.
" Now old man," she said, " wha you guyne do, or
guyne to tell me i Is'e lub to see you look good an smilin
— wha is it?"
"Aye now," said he, " dese oomen's so cunning ! Dey's
always see sumthin' cumin'. Lookee, Molly, 'member
massa's old shappaw that he hab fore he fight de Britishers
and de Tories at Gilford's ? O shaw, you knows him."
" Well, wha for you ax me dat, Daniel," said Molly,
"Is'e noed you guyne say sumthin' 'bout massa and de
wars— wha for you talk 'bout massa's big ole cock hat—
wy ole man he lef him in he liber, ware he keep he book
—I seed it dar. Now wha you want wid it ?"

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 97
" Neber mine, Molly, till I ax missis, maybe she gib it
to her ole Dan, dats it"
" Dar now, Daniel, you guyne be proud for sartin,
you's guyne ax missis for massa's cock hat? den you's go
it I nose. God nose wha you's cum to next ! take care —
take care, Daniel, you's guyne git a fall, dats it ! Doctor
Kilwell said last Sunday, when he preach, proud man go
afore de fall — sumthin' dat way — he say he bible say
so." " Go way nigger, Is'e guyne talk to missis 'bout it
inny how."
-And having finished his dinner, neatly placed before
him by Aunt Molly soon as he entered, and as they held
the forgeoing chat, he went up to the great house, as they
used to call it, and finding his mistress in her chamber,
lie very respectfully lifted his hat and bowed to her and
said : — " well missis you's al'ays at work ; if you's please,
Is'e got to say sumthin' to you."
" What is it old man," said his mistress ?
"Dats missis all de time, talk to ole nigger so good."
" Do you want to know when you'll send a load of
wheat to old Walden's mill, or what do you wish to-
ask?" " No, not dat, now missis — .Molly sez plenty flower yet..
Molly tell me sumthin'. doe."
$ Molly told you something," said- his mistress, —
"what?" " Sumthin' marm, 'bout massa."
" What, Uncle Dan % has she heard from him — is he
well?" "No, not dat, missis, God bless 'em, I hope he well,
and I believes it."
"Well, what is it, then; haa Toby had another fight
with Capt. Wood's Tom ?"
" No, no, missis he say he fight 'em, no, Mo — Molly
say doe, massa's ole cocky hat in de liber, an-^-an  "
" Well old man what of that ? His old hat has been
7

98 LEGENDS OF THE
in the library ever since he got the new one from New-
berne and went on the present campaign."
Aye, dats it missis, he ole hat, !&,&- Js'e ax fo' dat.
Molly say de hat dar, but she say Dan to proud, an Dan
go'for to fall ; but Is'e want it, dats flafy missis."
" Now, Uncle Dan, what in the world put that in your
head?" " Dar 'tis missis — missis j massa al'ays puts de big hat
on an' he speaks to de white gemmen in de muster."
" Oh ho ! that's it, Dan," said she, "you want to put
on your master's cocked hat, when you muster your men !
Well, well, you shall have it. Tell Molly to come and
get it for you."
" Tankee, missis, tankee missis ; I puts him on an I
aint guyne fall neider-^I isn't-— yahb yah, yah ; hora for
dis>nigger," and off he posted to his cabin.
Quite an interesting occurrence took place about the
year  when the brave General Marion, with his
equally brave subalterns and soldiers, were making the
proud and domineering Rawdon. feel the aroused indig
nity of Americans for his cruelty at Charleston, and
wherever he went with his no less cruel and reckless
soldiery persecuting the wives and families of the Whigs
with the most unheard of and inhuman violence. Major
John Adair was, with his two sons, John and William
Adair, at the distance of thirty-five miles, under the com
mand of Marion and General Sumpter, when a British
Major, with a corps of about' seventy men, called- upon
Mrs. Adair, who met the Major in her parlor. As soon
as she entered, in a haughty and very insolent manner,
he said to her :
" Madam, I have called this morning to see your d— <d
rebel husband and sons, and must see them! Where are
they ?"
She promptly answeTed that they were all from home,
with General Marion^ at Ninety-six, thirty-five • or forty
.miles off.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 99
"Well, Madam," he said, " it is my intention to see
them before I leave, and I shall, therefore, call and take
breakfast with you in the morning. If you do not have
them here, then, to introduce them to me, I will burn
your house and take away your negroes." Then, with a
great air of haughtiness and impudence, he made his bow,
marched his corps to a spring, contiguous to the farm,
and encamped. Fortunately, late that evening, Major
Adair, having been informed of the descent made by the
said British officer with his corps in the direction of his
home, obtained permission, and with a troop of sixty
men, active cavaliers, well armed and mounted, set out
and at about sunrise reached within sight of his home,
and discovering the British encampment at his spring,
in a moment resolved to attack them. He found almost
every man sound asleep, dreaming, perhaps, of the rant
and rollick they were to enjoy in the morning.
He conducted his valiant corps within a very feW
yatfds before any alarm was given, and with the exception
of four, killed by his men in' the first fire upon them,
made the whole, Major, Captain, and all, prisoners of
war. The redoubtable Major Kidd, the promised guest
of the lady of his conqueror, Mrs. Adair, Was now a pris
oner and under a Strong' guard. At about eight o'clock,
the following morning, Mrs. Adair, having been made
acquainted by one of her brave sons, John Adair, with
the events of the night, of the rapid march and rencontre^
went immediately with him to the camp. When she
came into the British Major's presence, she most grace
fully accosted hith; and said, " Sfr,' according to your ap
pointment I have prepared breakfast' for you; I shall
expect you to partake of it ; and then, if it be necessary;
shall have the pleasure of introducing to your acquain
tance my husband and sons." Trembling and pale, with
contrition and fear, the humbled officer endeavored to ex
cuse himself from taking breakfast that morning, as he
was really" " a little sick." The most coiirteotts lady in-

100 LEGENDS OF THE
sisted he ought, as the breakfast had been prepared for
him, specially ! He still urged his excuse in the most
humiliating tones, but she insisted in somewhat peremptory
terms, hinting by the way that among the waiting viands
she had been careful to have some coffee, (browned rye)
made of the genuine production of "our own beloved
America;" and so she marched the Major to her own
table, at which he presently seemed to forget his morning
nausea at the stomach.
Alas ! that any American, male or female, of the days
of the revolution, should be an infidel ! Ah, see God in
all this ! But, as to the redoubtable British Major, it
may be justly said,
" Shame and confusion, all is on the rout!
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds,"
Alike resolute were many other of the matrons of that
day. Indeed, there were many of the most fair and res
pectable maidens, whose words of encouragement and
smiles of approbation to the young Whigs of the other
sex, contributed to no inconsiderable extent to awaken
their spirit and enlist their unfleshed swords in many
deeds of daring and valor. Among the former was found
the Amazon, Mrs. Polly Rust, the mother of Ben Rust;
commonly called by the Tories, Major Poll, who, often
with a rifle on her shoulder and dirk and pistols at her
girdle, patrolled the neighborhood, and was to the Tories
often a more formidable enemy than one or two dare en
counter. She was a plain, stout woman, perfectly fear
less, and from her sound, discretion, unquestioned resolu
tion and prowess, might well be denominated, as she often
was, the commander-in-chief of the entire community of
heroines- Such, also, were the wives of Lawrence Smith,
Sitneon Tillis, Robert Caswell, and many others, who,
while there was a call for their husbands and sons to en
ter into^hp army,, of the country, fearlessly banded to
gether to defend themselves and their neighbors, witb a

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 101
firmness and invincibility that was truly heroic and al
most incredible to any but such as are familiar with the
history of the dauntless achievements of the heroines
found in the earlier settlements of the West and the wars
with the savage tribes. It was Often the practice of the
Tories, when British officers stealthily crept into the coun
try as spies, or when small companies of British soldiers
and Tories ravaged the country, to point out to their Cap
tains, Majors, Colonels, the most captivating of the young
daughters of the Whigs, in the neighborhood, and if by
more gentle means they could not be subjected to their
base lusts, forcibly to steal them from the protection of
their mothers and friends, their fathers being away to
fight the enemy, bear them to a distance, and subject
them to the feculent embraces of these heartless leaders,
the more certainly to secure the promised rewards of
profits and official statidn in case British rule was main
tained. These victims to the diabolical machinations of the
royalists were more numerous than would by many be
supposed, to the utter shame and lasting dishonor of the
king's partizans. Yet, however, in every occurrence of
the kind, a more determined purpose was awakened in
the ranks of the Whigs to battle for liberty and to re
venge upon the heads of these detested miscreants the
unspeakable insults and injuries practiced upon them.
Many of the slaves of the Whigs were seduced from
their allegiance to their masters, sometimes armed and
induced to fight against them; but at all events, carried
off to distant parts, or forced on board British vessels and
suffered to starve to death for want of food and clothing,
so that nine out of ten, became a total loss. Some, how
ever, and we may truly say the greater number could
not be induced by the Tories to betray their masters, not
withstanding all their promises of reward or favor ; and
many of them, in the absence of their owners, most faith-
frilly and heroically fought for, and effectually defended

102 LEGENDS OF THE
their families and their property against the predatory
assaults of small companies of either British or Tories.
Indeed, in several instances that might be identified and
established, these grateful creatures, prompted by the
purest affection for the families to which they belonged,
not only periled their lives, but often suffered death in
the conflicts with the Tories and Indians, meriting the
highest praise for their fidelity and disinterested inter
position. A most interesting anecdote might here be recorded of
two African slaves who lived in the family of Lawrence
Smith, who emigrated to North Carolina in 1769 from
Louisa county, Virginia, and settled in the vicinity of
the Shallow Ford of the Yadkin. In this place he lived
till about the year 1786, when he removed to Kentucky
and resided until his death, about 1812. The first of
these two slave, Csesar at the commencement of the rev
olution was about thirty years of age, tall in stature, and
spare in person, yet of a very clear and sound judgment,
for a Virginia slave ; the second, aged about twenty-five
years, was remarkably strong and active, of quick percep
tion and very great cunning. These, as the master early
entered the colonial service against the British and To
ries, and often for months absent at a considerable dis
tance from home, most faithfully conducted the entire
business of the farm, and on various occasions, when at
tempts were made by Tories and small groups of British
soldiers to commit depredations upon the stock — and who
twice attempted to break into the house and rob (as they
often did in other cases) and commit great violence on
their mistress and two daughters, then just grown to
womanhood, effectually beat them back. On a third oc
casion, testing to the severest extent the undaunted cour
age and unfailing fidelity of Csesar and John, was a fear
ful conflict with five Tories and a Cherokee. Big Bill
and Joshua Harpe, Peter Hudspeth, Bill or William Er
nest, Joseph Bettis, the Tories and Tipposa, the Indian,

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 103
The two first, Bill and Joshua Harpe, sons of the Scotch
brothers mentioned in the earliest chapters of this work,
had been, within two or three days preceding the event
which we now describe, several times seen by John and
Csesar, rather suspiciously sauntering around the farm of
their master. Suspicions of the honesty of their purpose
were immediately entertained by the servants and in a con
sultation they had upon the subject, Csesar remembering
and speaking of his having seen big Bill Harpe on some
former occasion, and having learned his name and the
bad character he bore where he was known, they deter
mined to double their vigilance in guarding the premises ;
keep their guns and butcher-knives in proper order, so as
to be able to seize them at any moment, and sleep at
night only by turhs, one or the other of them being con
stantly on the watch. They knew that it was pretty gen
erally known thrughout the country that. their master
Lawrence Smith and his sons, were then in South Caro
lina, and under the command of General Marion, as in a
fight at  they had received great applause for feats
of great bravery and dexterity in the battle against the
British and Tories. For said Csesar, "dis mus be so, or
why would Capt. Adair come all de way from tother side
Charlotte and tell missis and de young ladies, 'bout it ;
an den, Capt. John Wood, who fight dare heself, come an
brag to missis and de young gals so 'bout it ? I tell you,
Jack, ebery body know massa, now, and whar's at dis
time." " Dar now Caesar," said John, " Is'e jist tink dat bery
ting mysef. Dis mornin' Is'e in de wood cutin' lode, —
you'se gone to mill — Is'e look up an dat littlest one cum
cfeepin' right up to me, bad's gun. John got's gun dar,
too, settin' up gin de tree, and hab dis 'ere same long
knife massa stick de big bare on de Boo Ridge tother
year. He cum putty close, I looks at him putty hard, he
cums a little closer, an say halloo — Is'e say halloo, too —
he say you'se lib 'ere ? Is'e say lib wid massa, — Is'e git-

104 LEGENDS OF THFJ
in' mad by dis time. He's den say, you massa Dot here
— I den say dat none you bisriiss. He den look all
'round, see nobody, an you wants to lib wid you's massa?
Is'e den look 'round, mysef, — see nobody. Is'e say you's
ax me, I wants to lib wid massa? you's got better home
for me ? He's say 0 yes, down in de Cumbeland county,
wid Ginil McDonald and on de putty ship. Is'e say, I
die fuss. He den talk no mo', — look 'round long time,
den go way,— like he's cum. Is'e tell you, Csesar, he's
bad man, an dangerous!"
" I tink so too, Jack, an dats flat." . •
"No' mine dis nigger, ketch sum dem d — d black
Britishers, sum days, bad."
That night these two simple but faithful Africans re
mained . in the kitchen all night, keeping the door open
so as to better hear any noise from without, scarcely
either of them closing his eyes for a moment. Early in
the morning, supposed to be about sunrise, one of the
Miss Smiths, a beautiful black eyed girl about sixteen
years of age, with a young colored woman, went into a
lot a little back of the yard, and skirting a thick woods to
milk, where they had been engaged but a very few min
utes before the five Tories and Indian, above mentioned,-
leaped over the fence next to the timber, each of the
whites armed with a gun and long-knife, and the Indian
with a large club and tomahawk ! Hudspeth came up to
them first and seized the darky round the waist, who en
gaged him instantly in a most desperate struggle, scream
ing and shouting for help, to be heard a half mile off; at
the same moment Josh Harpe laid hold of Elizabeth
Smith and attempted to bear her in his strong arms to
ward the thicket from whence these vile wretches rushed.
Her piteous screams and shrieks pierced the air in des
pairing tones. At this terrific moment the two darkies
leaped into the lot, armed with guns and a long-knife
girted on or to their waists, and instantly engaged the
bandits in a most desperate fight ! Csesar came up with

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE.

105

Josh Harpe and gave him a deep stab in the left shoulder
from which he immediately fell, loosing his grasp upon
the young lady, while John rushed up to Hudspeth, still
struggling with the strong and active colored girl, who
seemed his full match at the game of a wrestle or fisticuff,
and gave him a fatal thrust in the neck, with his long
knife, cutting one of the carotid arteries, and he, perhaps,
never breathed after.
Just then, however, most unfortunately, the despicable
Indian drove his deadly tomahawk into the lower part of
the side of the head of poor John, from which he instant
ly sank to the grOund, and though taken to the house,
and placed under the most assiduous nursing of his very
kind and skillful mistress, he died in' ten days. As
Csesar struck down Joshua Harpe, he was seized by the
arm with the right hand of big Bill Harpe, while with his
left, he grasped and held the fainting young lady. Bill
Earnest also struck him a violent blow on the head with
the barrel of his heavy rifle, which rather glancing, it
failed to more than stagger him to one side. At this im
portant and most momentous crisis, Capt. J. Wood, whom
we have heretofore described, who was at the time of the
attack passing, hearing the screams of the young women,
leaped from his horse, ran to the spot, and shot the Indi
an through the heart just as he had stricken poor John
with the tomahawk; then wheeling upon Bettis, big Bill
Harpe, and Bill Earnest, who were holding Csesar and en
deavoring to stab him, instantly let him go and fled like
terrified wolves to the adjoining wood and entirely escaped.
John was immediately taken up by Csesar, and Lucy, the
young colored wpman, and borne in their arms to his
mistress' chamber, leaving Josh Harpe still alive but be
lieved by Capt. Wood to be dying. Capt Wood con
ducted the affrighted and almost fainting Miss Smith to
the house of her mother, and the fond sympathizing em
braces of her affectionate sister. No farther attention
was paid that evening to Joshua Harpe. But during

106 LEGENDS OF THE
the dark of the night that followed, big Bill Harpe, his
cousin, and Earnest, stealthily came and bore him away.
He was afterwards recovered and permitted to live for
years a no better man ; living with his yet more vile and
terrible cousin, big Bill, growing worse and worse — in
dulging more and more firmly in the fatal doctrines of
the decrees 'of God, and fully believing, as they said, that
he had from all eternity determined and decreed them to
be thieves, robbers and cut-throats, because they felt an
insatiable thirst within them, to perpetrate such deeds;
and therefore, as they were without the power to do other-
wite, they must needs follow their destiny, strive as they
may to change — do what they could to effect an escape
from that supposed purpose ! And may we not conclude
that this opinion of God and man's condition, that the
notions put forth in the world of the irrevocable decrees,
the doctrine of fate, are indeed the master stratagems of
the great enemy of God and man to allure man from all
just sense of personal accountability for individual action
which deadens every sentiment and sensibility of the soul
that prompt to virtuous life ? Substituting and adopting
in their stead, as rules of life, the inbred corruptions of a
fallen heart and depraved nature; teaching satan's delu
sive incantation, sung by one of Britain's poets.
" There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Bough hew them as we will."
Nay, in the name of reason and the judgment of all
men of common sense, does not the bare existence of the
fact that God permits men, even in this enlightened day,
the nineteenth century, to live, propogate and act out
such dishonoring doctrines, prove that he who willeth not
the death of a sinner, but rather that he turn from his
evil ways and live, has appointed a day in which He will
judge the world, not by any law of fate or immutable de
cree applied to any man, personally, but a law based up
on man's volition, consistent with His conception of the
purest reason — a law of righteousness ?

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 107

CHAPTER X.

" Such and so finely bolted did'st thou seem,
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,
To mark the full fraught man, and best indued
With some suspicion. I will weep for thee ;
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
Another fall of man." — Shakspeare.
" But such is the infection of the time,
That, for the health and physic of our right,
We cannot deal but with the very hand
Of stern injustice and confused wrong."
King John, Act V., Scene 2.
" This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas ;
And utters it again when Jove doth please :
He is wit's peddlar ; and retails his wares
At wakes and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs :
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with suoh show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve ;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve :
He can carve, too, and lisp ; Why, this is he
That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy ;
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
That, when he plays at table, chides the dice,
In honorable terms ; nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly ; , and in ushering,
Mend him who can : the ladies call him sweet ;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet;
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
To show his teeth as white as whale's bone :
And consciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet."
Love's Labor Lost,— Act V., Scene ?.

It will be remembered by the reader, that in the early
part of these Legends, the female school of Rev. James

108 LEGENDS OF THE
Frazier, a Presbyterian Minister, at Hillsboro', was men
tioned, and at which Maria, the daughter of Capt. David
son, was a boarder and pupil. He was there and every
where spoken of as a man of very accomplished and pro
found learning, eloquence, and oratory. Indeed, so per
fectly captivating and fascinating were his manner and
style in the pulpit, that often he was followed in his ap
pointments to preach, a great distance, by many hund
red : Some twenty miles, and some forty and fifty — to
enjoy his transcendant ministrations. His name and
fame became very great throughout most of the colonies ;
but especially in Pennsylvania, Virginia, and the two
Carolinas. While making' Newberne, in North Carolina,
his home, and in charge of a prosperous congregation of
Presbyterians in that city, it was his habit sometimes, to
visit and preach at Philadelphia with eminent success, as
it was said, — sometimes in Richmond, Virginia, aDd
many places for a considerable distance round those
cities, with very great acceptability and apparent power.
On one of his appointments in the year 1775 — distant
from Richmond about twenty miles, in Caroline county,
near the Pomonkee river, at the old Reedy Church, he was
met by a very large congregation, and among the rest,
the universally known, truly pious and hospitable Mel-
chesideck Brame, who was a ruling Elder in that church,
together with the greater portion of the white members
of his large family. By this venerable and hospitable
old gentleman, after the services closed, the reverend
stranger was cordially invited to accompany him home,
and accepted the invitation. He partook of Mr. Brame's
hospitality, attended with all the assiduity and polite cor
dial welcome of a Virginia gentleman, for which that State
was even at that period, famed afar, and remained till
nine A. M. the second day, when he had to attend an
appointment at Hanover Town, for that day, at noon,
made as he came on from Richmond. Mr. Brame, sev
eral of his daughters, and his two nieces, Misses Happy

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 10
and Elizabeth Thompson, his wards, resident in his fam
ily, accompanied him.
On their way to church, at Hanover Town, a distance
of five miles, the Rev. Mr. Frazier was observed to be
most assiduous in his attentions to the pretty black-eyed
Miss Happy Thompson; and when, at the bridge, on
which they crossed the Pomonkee, from the Caroline
side, her steed took fright and appeared to be on the
point of plunging down from the abutment, over a preci
pice of twenty feet, or more, into the, foaming stream be
low, the reverend gallant most opportunely and fortunate
ly, who was riding by her side, leaped from his horse in
great exposure of his own life, caught her's by the bridle,
stayed his mad career, and saved the life of the rideer.
He at once received the thanks of her uncle, sister, and
cousins, — nay, the most unqualified compliments of all,
for this inimitable feat of activity and gallantry.
Meanwhile the young lady herself, deeply impressed
with a sense of the dreadful danger from which she had
been saved, and of gratitude to him by whom it had
been accomplished, burst into a. flood of tears, and for a
time, lifting her eyes and hands toward Heaven, in silent
ejauculations and thanks — presently turned to the rever
end gentleman, and in the sweetest accents of voice,
said: " Oh ! Mr. Frazier, tell me how can I ever repay the
debt of gratitude I owe you ? " He looked at the beauti
ful girl for a moment, with the greatest intensity of ex
pression in his countenance, and said to her in rather an
insinuating and under tone : —
" I cannot now, but may at some more proper time."
And mounting his palfrey, the company immediately pro
ceeded to cross the river, and to Hanover Town.
When they arrived, there was a verly large concourse
gathered at the meeting house,. ;within and around the
door, more than sufficient to fill the house, come from all
the adjacent country, and even many ladies and gentle-

110 LEGENDS OF TBE
men from Richmond. In a few minutes the minister
was very cordially greeted by the great and good Mr.
Samuel Davis, then in charge of the Presbyterian congre
gation at that place, whose exemplary character, for piety
and distinguished learning, was then and especially
since, highly appreciated and proclaimed throughout all
the country, but more particularly throughout the South
ern and middle colonies, where he had preached most,
and his labor of love was best known. To this venera
ble gentleman Mr. Frazier said, in the blandest words :
" I was not aware of the pleasure of meeting you here,
on this occasion, and the honor of your being one of my
audience, or I might have directed my preparation to a
text and sermon something better suited to your taste
and experience. But I have not time now to change,
and must proceed with the one I had contemplated." To
these remarks the excellent pastor, only answered :
" Doubtless it will be all well enough, as I trust, sir, it
will be a preaching of Christ and him crucified."
Mr. Frazier then arose in the pulpit. The hymn was
sung by the congregation, and the other usual initiatory
services being passed, he selected and read for his text
from the 2nd chapter of Ruth, and 13th veree, in these
words :
" Then she said, let me find favor in thy sight, my
Lord ; for that thou hast comforted me, and for that thou
hast spoken friendly unto thine handmaid."
The minister remarked :
" These are the words spoken by Ruth, the Moabitess,
daughter-in-law of Naomi, to Boaz the Bethlehemite,
when she accompanied her mother-in-law in her return
from the land of Moab to Bethlehem, in Judah, in pur
suit of bread, (there being a great famine in Moab,) and
after the loss of Elimeleck, her husband, and her two
sons, Mahlon and Chilion. All who have read the Bible
will have remarked in what beautiful terms of tenderness
and filial regard Ruth addressed Naomi in answer to her

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. Ill
entreaties, not to follow her in her forlorn travel to the
land of her people, in Judea ; but to go again to Moab,
and to the worship of her own Gods, in that land. And
Ruth said, ' entreat me not to leave thee, or to return
from following after thee : for whither thou goest, I will
go ; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy people
shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou
diest, will I die, and there will I be buried : the Lord do
so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and
me.'" "When they arrived at Bethlehem, in Judea, it being
in time of harvest, Ruth,- going forth to glean after the
reapers, was providentially led among those in the fields
of Boaz, was by him seen engaged in gleaning after his
men, and he said unto her ' hearest thou not, my daughter ?
Go not to glean in another field^ neither go from hence ;
but abide here fast by my maidens. Let thine eyes be
on the field that they do reap,' &c. Then she said, ' Let
me find favor in thy sight, my Lord,' &c, as in the
text." The preacher then proceeded to deduce from the words
of the text, an analogy between the impoverished condi
tion of Ruth — fleeing with her mother-in-law, Naomi,
from the famishing land and people of Moab, to the land
of Judea, for bread ; the deep state of dependence into
which she had been brought by sin for subsistence ; the
softened condition .-of her heart and mind, under these cir
cumstances, toward her fond mother-in-law ; the touch
ing supplication to the wealthy Boaz, for his fayor and
aid in her trying- circumstances ; and the condition of a
convicted sinner, saved, it was true, by the election of
God, from before the foundation of the world, now con
victed of sins, also foreordained, but ultimately designed
to bring hirii to the knowledge of God and salvation
through Jesus Christ.
That in such a state of mind, the sinner, thus brought
to supplicate God, was prepared, not only justly to appre.-

112 LEGENDS OF THE
ciate his bounty and loving kindness, but to ask — though
it was long before vouched for according to God's elec
tion and eternal purpose, just as the favor and loving
kindness of Boaz had been bestowed and declared before
the damsel, Ruth, made her supplication (expressed in
the text) — for his favor and benevolence. He dilated
largely and eloquently upon the mercy of God exhibited
in creation, redemption, and providence; and especially
in his foreordination and election. Spoke of the wonder
ful adaptation of things, in nature and creation, to the
comfort, happiness and. safety of man. Then of the lov
ing kindness, displayed toward -his elect from all eternity,
in the gift of the Lord Jesus and his atoning sacrifice,
whereby, and through whom alone, they received the
bread of eternal life. That, when in the condition of sin
ners — exposed to death eternal, through the eternal elec
tion in Christ, of which they were made partakers — they
were saved, and are therefore laid under the most illim
itable obligations to adore, obey, and honor Him, from
whom such salvation comes.
He then closed with a few striking illustrations, as he
said, by way of enforcing the arguments advanced.
These he " amplified and simplified," — one particularly.
With great apparent solemnity and pathos, he urged
upon his hearers, as emblematical of the duty toward
God from one of his chosen elect. He said, " It was like
that gratitude, which, all would say was a just return
from a beautiful young lady to her protector, who had,
when the danger of instant death, or some other terrific
injury by land or sea was imminent, at the hazard of his
own life, timely interposed and saved her."
Here the divine closed his unique sermon. After
prayer, by the venerable Davies, the congregation was
dismissed with the blessing.
The Rev. Mr. Frazier, having to reach his appoint
ment at Richmond that evening — took his leave of Elder
Brame and the young ladies of his family, and set out for

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 113
that place ; kindly, however, saying to the old getleman,
that " he believed he should accept of his invitation to
preach again at Reedy Church, on next Sabbath week,
after which he would spend some several days beneath
his hospitable roof." Mr. Brame, only a little crustily,
responded :
" Ah, yes. Then I will have the appointment given
out in time, and shall expect you."
Journeying homeward the young ladies interchanged
many remarks relative to the sermon they had just lis
tened to. Some said it was a good deal odd in its doc
trine and general topics of discussion — in its conclusion,
rather difficult to comprehend. Miss Mary Brame said,
for her part she could not see any sense or application
in the most of the preachers' illustrations, as he called
them, at the conclusion. Especially, that in which he in-
stancedthe case of the beautiful young lady in peril of
life. " Indeed, I could not understand it. He seemed to
look at that time, Cousin Happy, (Miss Happy Thomp
son) right at you, as if he wished to say something to
you particularly."
" I don't see why he should wish to speak to me, Cou
sin Mary," said Miss Happy. " He saved me, I really
believe, this morning, and for it I am truly thankful to
Heaven, and truly grateful to Mr. Frazier; but I reckon
he: had no allusion to me, or that circumstance, in his
sermon." "It may be so," said Mary, "but at the time, from
his look and all, I thought it very queer."
"Well," said Gregory Baynham, who was along with
the company and heard the cqnversation between the two
girls " now the thing- is not hard for me to understand I
assure you. That Scotchman is not only a great preacher,
but a very cunning one, depend upon it. Aint he a
bachelor, MissiHappy?"
"Indeed, Mr. Baynham, I do not know^ I suppose he
is 'tho?, he is: certainly a; fine- healthy looking- young- many
8

H4; LEGENDS OF THE
and might be an object to be caught by any young Vir
ginia lady."
" Ah ! ha, ha," said Baynham, "do you think so Miss
Happy % well, then you will be sure to have a chance for
that or else I am much deceived."
«0 fie— fie, Mr. Baynham, the farthest from it."
" If I hadn't reasons," said he, " I wouldn't say it,
Miss." " What reasons, Mr. Baynham ? "
" Why, nothing very particular ; but enough for me —
that's certain. He asked me a heap about you, yester
day, I know, as we walked in your uncle's garden;
wanted to know, mighty particular, what was your age
and fortune, and all about you. I should'nt have
thought much of- that, if he had'nt, to-day, soon as you
got to the church, taken me one side, and asked me the
same over again, pretty much ; and then, how many bro
thers and sisters you had. Then, when I saw he could'nt
keep his eyes off of you all the time he was preaching,
think's I, there's something in it. 1 don't know much
about love affairs, being a bachelor myself; but — "
" But," said .Miss Mary, " Mr Baynham, you're a
pretty cunning one."
During this chat on the way, the worthy old elder rode
along, quite alone in his position and humor, saying
nothing to any one until addressed by his niece, Miss
Elizabeth Thompson, and asked, " what he thought of
the sermon ? "
" Why, Betsy," he said, " don't you know I do not
often express my opinion of the preaching of my breth
ren ? I confess I was not as much pleased to-day as I
was at Reedy Church. To-day I could not keep up with
his remarks. -Perhaps, however, the fault was in me, not
the preacher. He said a good deal about God's eternal
purpose and the doctrine of election from all eternity,
but although I believe it was all scriptural, and right, I
am like my venerable brother, Parson Waddle, who told

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 115
me, one day, he did'nt see much use for it in the pul
pit." A minute or more intervened and the old gentleman
said: "Hi, ho; this is a strange world after all, niece, I
find." By this, the company reached Mr. Brame's and all
proceeded to his dwelling. In a few minutes, his kind
old lady and domestics united in spreading out before
them a warm and sumptuous dinner, prepared and kept
warm until, their return from church.
Little more was said among them of the sermon or
any of the incidents of the day, or more than a simple
narrative of the occurrence at Pomonkee bridge, and the
fortunate rescue of Miss Happy Thompson, &c, to her
affectionate aunt, Mrs. Mary Chiles Brame, by whom, in
all tenderness and motherly care, she had been nursed in
infancy and reared to womanhood ; except a pleasant
and facetious remark or two by Mr. Gregory Baynham,
who wittily suggested :
" It was only one of the tricks of that little crafty ur
chin, Cupid, to get into Miss Happy's pony, to flounce
and flounder as he did, arid give the parson a fine oppor
tunity to display his Scotch gallantry and Edinburgh
manners, and properly prepare the way for a matrimonial
catastrophe of some sort."
'^ Ah, now, Mr. Baynham," said Happy, "it would
be difficult to find your match for such things anywhere.
I really believe if I was going to die you would con
trive, someway, to laugh at it."
" Well," he said, " we'll see ; and if something does'nt
come of this bridge affair to make me cry, I shall get off
pretty well. These starting ponies, sometimes, bring
about wonders."

116 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XI.

Thoughts on the designs of Providence in opening up the way from
the old world to the new — The almost miraculous preservation, and
prosperity given to the earlier emigrants from Europe &c. — Some
touches. of the. history of the revolution in. the middle colonies,
particularly in North Carolina — The conflicts with the Tories-^
Their abduction of three young and beautiful Whig ladies — The
pursuit and execution of a number by Capt. John Wood and others.

" Slaves fight for what were better cast away —
The chain that binds them, and a tyrant's sway;
But they ,that fight for- freedom, undertake
The noblest cause mankind can have at stake.;
Religion, virtue, truth, what'er we call
A blessing — freedom is the pledge of all."
" Fair freedom has a thousand charms to show,
That slaves, how'er contented, never know —
The mind attains, beneath her happy reign;
The growth that nature means she should attain,
The varied fields of science ever, knew,
Opening, and .wider opening on Jier view," — CowpeTr
As yetj these fugitive pages have given but few and
brief details of the severe battles fought by the patriots
of the colonies, against the enemies of the counby,
nor is it our intention or design so to do. These are in
the general, well and satisfactorily given by the histories
and biographies already published, now quite numerous
and reliable, all exhibiting the heroism, skill, moral cour
age, and fixedness of men, resolved for themselves and
their posterity to be free.
New details of these may, never be wholly uninterestr
ing in view of the great prize, liberty, for which they
were fought on the part of our fathers ; but especially
when the intelligent reader sees, as we respectfully think
he ought, the hand of God's overruling providence man-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 117
ifestly displayed in their behalf, and regards such divine
interposition, as we verily 'believe he should, as but the
completion of that stupendous reformation, or revolution,
begun and most miraculously accomplished, in the re
publication and establishment of the true principles Of
Christian liberty, obligation and happiness, through the
-feeble instrumentality of Martin Luther ; and finally, in
the inspirations bestowed by Him upon George Wash
ington and his compatriots' of the American revolution.
Publishing to the Old world, and the new, nay, to all
mankind, man's natural rights in society, the revolution
of 1776 finished the ' superstructure of religious liberty,
and while the principles of the protestant spirit remodel
ed the church, those 6f the American era, society and
government. Daughters of the same divine parent, the
religion of 'the Bible, they have found a new family of
men among the nations of the earth.
Here, in America, from the feebleness of infancy, ex
posed and sometimes almost destroyed in the midst of
and in defiance of disasters, the most threatening and
oalamities the most alarming, the little colonies at James
town and Plymouth, grew and spread out under Heaven's
protection, like green bay trees; ever the shade and asy
lum of thepolitifeally andreligiously oppressed of earth, till,
changing the figure, to manhood grown, taught by the
reformation that when civil and political liberty was in
vaded, independence was no less a duty than a right,
they cut the gordian knot of colonial obedience to the
British throne, defied like men its power, and God gave
them the victory! So that in holy triumph the inhabi
tants of the colonies, one and all, might justly have sung,
as indeed many thousands did sing,
Sound, soundthe loud dliiriotvo'er Atlantic's broad sea,
Jehovah has triumphed, for America is free !
Sing — for the pride of the tyrant's now broken,
His cohorts, his horsemen, his navy so brave 1
How vain all his boasting t the Lord hath but spoken,
And cohorts, and horsemen, are sunk ih the gtaVe I

118 LEGENDS OF THE
But the reader will perceive that in the preceding rfcr
marks of this chapter, we have, — in an effort to give a
somewhat enlarged view of the principles of the war of
independence, and the manifest providence engaged in
the cause of human freedom, by which, united with the
free choice of the people to engage in, and hand to hand,
and shoulder to shoulder, struggle for liberty, it was ulti
mately accomplished — we have rather anticipated that
happy event, and raised the triumphant song sooner, in a
chronological point of view, than it was properly and ac
tually sung.
The incidents of the war of which we have spoken,
may be appropriately considered as occurring, some of
them, at its commencement, and others long before its
termination. Yet we have some to present to our read
ers, several, we believe, fraught with thrilling interest
and highly illustrative of its dangers and horrors, the
natural products of the times.
One of the earliest and most effective measures adopted
by the first colonial Congress of the Whigs in North
Carolina, was the establishment of committees of safety
in each county, and appointing for that purpose from ten
to twenty of the most courageous and active resident
Whigs, whose appointed duties were of the most plenary
character, partly civil, and partly judicial. They were
expected, in the first place, to go as far as practicable
among the Tories or royalists, explain to them personally
the general principles of Whig resistance to the parent
government, and in the event of the king and ministry
disregarding their innumerable supplications and peti
tions, to fight to the last extremity till their liberties
were made secure and fully acknowledged, — to use all
their influence by persuasion and argument, to convince
them of the propriety of these principles, in view of their
rights guaranteed by the British constitution, and the
charters of the colonies, and of the absolute necessity of
Union among our citizens in any event, to a speedy and

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE.

119

successful issue of the terrific dangers and trials then
impending over the common country.
And again, in the event of these efforts being unsuc
cessful, and failing to get them to sign a declaration to
the effect, declaring an acquiesence in those principles,
pledging to the utmost reasonable extent, aid in the cause
of the country against all British aggression and usurpa
tion, to imprison them or otherwise put it out of their
power to give aid and comfort to its enemies.
To this end they were charged to keep and maintain a
sleepless watchfulness upon all within the limits of their
respective counties, and thus secure the safety of the
citizens and the greatest success to the cause of the revo
lution. In general, these remarkably extensive powers
were exercised by these committees with much modera
tion and a becoming observance of prudence and humane
discretion. Being very generally selected from among
the wisest and most impartial of the citizens, with few, if
any, perquisites attached to their duties or official acts,
they with surprising energy acted the parts assigned
them, looking to the preservation of the safety and quiet
of society and the prosperity of the cause of freedom as
their ample reward. On some occasions, however, under
the influence of great and sudden provocation from the
Tories by thefts, robberies, murders, and other crimes,
if possible, more despicable and henious in their charac
ter, perpetrated upon undefended innocence, these com
mittees adopted the most stringent measures; and in
many instances, inflicted in the most unprecedented
modes the severest punishments. Indeed, these seemed
indispensable, especially when the armies of the British
invaded and overrun the colony, under the command of
Sir Henry Clinton, Lord Cornwallis, Tarlton and others,
and when the Tories were much more daring and reck
less in a continual harrassraent of the neighborhoods by
murder and rapine.
Not a few of the most beautiful and highly prized of

120 LEGENDS OF THE
the young ladies of the most respectable families, as we
have already mentioned, and for the diabolical purposes
suggested, were abducted and clandestinely borne to a
great distance from their friends, to despicable lodges
and secret repositories, and murdered or made misera
ble and loathsome for all future life !
O, never, never shall we cease to remember with the
most heartfelt sympathy the fate of the lovely Mary Wal-
den, the cherished and only child of the venerable Wal-
den, mentioned heretofore as among the patriots at the
Mecklenburg Convention ; nor that of the beautiful little
Harriet Eskridge, torn with savage brutality from the
very embrace and arms of her widowed mother, to whom
she had flown for protection ; nor the unspeakable suffer
ings, heart-rending agony of poor Charlotte Fitzhue, who,
not an hour before, united in matrimony to Mr. John
Lawrence Wright at the old Duplin Presbyterian meet
ing-house, returning to her father's in company with her
husband, together with their bridal attendants, was with
her party, attacked by four despicable royalists, two
Scotch and two Irishmen. Her companion being shot
from his horse, leaping from her saddle, she ran instantly
to him, but at the moment of his last dying embrace,
was rudely ravished from those arms, already enfeebled
and powerless with the agonies of death, and borne to a
great distance from friends, home, and all sympathy !
These sweet girls all lived to tell the horrid sufferings
when found and restored to their despairing relatives and
friends. But each, in inconsolable grief, soon, like strick
en flowers in the morning of life, drooped, withered and
sank into the repose of their lonely graves.
These terrible miscreants, when captured, as some half
dozen of them shortly after their horrible crimes were,
though unfortunately not all, swiftly suffered suspension
by the neck, like other dogs, as every one will expect
and approve, under the famed "second section" of Major
General Jack Lynch, Judge. The first section of which

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 121
learned code very briefly and laconically treating of
catching or shooting before hanging; and the second,
discussing the doctrine sufficiently in extenso, hang and
then try them by a jury composed of the rope or grape
vine, the tree and the hangman — "judgment for the com
monwealth." ,
But let us .turn for thepresent from these sickening
pictures of fallen human nature to scenes more pervaded
by the spirit of .grace. Indeed, we are inclined to the
opinion, gentle reader, expressed by a rough but strong
minded old local preacher who, addressing his congrega
tion, said with great apparent earnestness: " I tell you
what it is my brothers and >sisters, thar's a, great deal' of
human natur in man ! — and human natur is a grand ras
cal ! " Emphatically so, say we, aside from the grace of
God. •
Well, it will be remembered, the Whigs of North Car
olina, in the year 1775, elected and organized at Hills-
boro' a colonial congress. That body had always been
in the habit of opening its session with prayer by some
minister of the gospel. This, it is true, the venerable old
Whig, Dr. Caldwell, had usually done for them. But On
the occasion to which we now allude, he was sick, unable
to attend, and considerable delay was the consequence.
Late in the evening, when all were beginning to fear they
should have to break up, or proceed without the perfor
mance of that introductory, Colonel Francis Nash, one of
the members, walked into the hall and introduced the
Rev. George Mecklejohn, a newly and thoroughly wrought
and fashioned successor of Peter, or some other of the
Apostles, in high church parlance, and then "he opened
the congress by reading prayers." He Jexpressed grealt
objection to serve them, for a while, but ultimately sub
mitted to the performance of the service.
The gist of this story is, that Mecklejohn, a, high church
man in his religion, that is, one believing in all the super
stitions of the divine right of kings and magistrates, a

122 LEGENDS OF THE
high Tory in his politics, was, when found by Colonel
Nash, in Hillsboro', just returning from a convention of
Tories, called together by the right hand machinator of
the royal Governor, Jo. Martin, sent there to adopt some
measures to thwart and obstruct the proceedings of the
colonial congress then about to organize in that town.
In the meeting of the Tories, he had with all apparent
fervor supplicated the divine approbation and succor on
all their undertakings, and yet, while acting with and for
the Whigs, he prayed with equal apparent earnestness
and openly for the blessings of Heaven upon their cause,
and for the success of all their undertakings to free the
country. Reader, think you God ever appointed and
called such a minister? Could he have been the successor
of an Apostle ?
That Mr. Mecklejohn, under the influence of his Euro
pean, education, his particular opinions in favor of the
supremacy of the church of England, should differ with
his Whig neighbors, was not surprising; but that he
should pretend to favor the one while he was advocating
the other was abominable. He was, however, not the
only one, by hundreds, that sought by a deceitful, two-
faced course, to shelter himself from responsibility in re
gard to either side. There were even those that foisted
themselves into high places ! — contrived to get them
selves appointed to high and responsible offices in the
Whig government !— yet all the time the aiders and
abettors of their enemies. Such was the character of
Farquard Campbell, a Scotchman by birth and educa
tion, a Covenanter by profession, yet who managed to he
made a member repeatedly of the colonial congress, till
he was detected and fully convicted of treachery, and just
ly punished. Others of the Tories, becoming alarmed at
the probability of the success of the Whig cause, or at
the stringency of the treatment they were likely to re
ceive at their hands, under the semblance, at least, of
repentance for and retraction of theif Tory professions,

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 123
hastened, as it seemed, to give the pledge to go in future
with their Whig neighbors for liberty and the rights of
freemen. The greater portion of the Whig leaders, members of
the committees and other offices, as we have already de
clared, were disposed to adopt and practice the most con
ciliatory course toward the Tories, or royalists, so as to
bring them into a union with them and destroy the
hopes of the officers of the crown for aid by reason of an
intestine division.
In many instances success attended their efforts. The
case of Mr. John Coulson, of Anson county, a man of
considerable fortune and influence, and who had been
guilty of many offences, finding himself compelled to take
an open position on the one side or the other, sent to the
colonial congress at Hillsboro', the following confession.
We here copy it, as it exhibits, in substance, confessions
made and pledges given by many othei-s, viz:
"I, John Coulson, do, from the fullest conviction, sol
emnly declare, that I have been pursuing measures de
structive of the liberties in general, and highly injurious
to the peace of the colony ; and truly conscious of the
heniousness of my guilt, do now publicly confess the same,
and do solemnly and sincerely promise, that I will for the
future, support and defend, to the utmost of my power,
the constitutional rights and liberties of America; and in
order to make atonement for my past guilt, that I will
make use of every effort in my power to reclaim those
persons whom I have seduced from their duty, and also
to induce all other persons over whom I have influence,
to aid, support, and defend the just rights of America.
In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, this
22nd day of August, 1775."
During the latter part of the year 1775, a numerous
association of Scotch Highlanders, direct from the mother
country, settled on the shores of Cape Fear river. Their
¦principle men, or leaders, having suffered very much on

124 LEGENDS OF THE
account of their attachment to the Pretender, to the
crown of Great Britain, and close adherence to his cause
while in Scotland, having there lived in continual awe of
the reigning sovereign, George III., had now fled or mi
grated to North Carolina in search of the peace which
the extent and solitude of her forests seemed to ensure.
These Highlanders, however, greatly encouraged and
.reinforced Governor Jo. Martin, the last, as we have be
fore stated, of the Governors under the British authority
in this colony, who, having fled from his residence to,
and on board of the British ship on the Cape, from
whence he issued several proclamations and held his
Court, managed with great craftiness by operating on
their fears,; threatening them, here, to prosecute and pun
ish them for their treasonable conduct in the old country,
and offering them a release from these dangers upon the
condition of their embracing and unflinchingly adhering
to the cause of the king.
To a man they entered into his measures and identi
fied themselves with the Regulators — whom he had in the
counties of Orange, Anson, Guilford — and others in the
use of like cunning and threats, and who, with the High
landers now under their leaders, commenced preparing
for the fight ; so that the banks of Cape Fear, and the
beautiful valleys of its tributary streams, Deep and Haw
rivers, flowing through the counties of Moore, Orange,
Chatham, Guilford and Randolph, comprising the very
heart of the colony, were overrun with this species of
population. They became every day more and more imperious, im
pertinent, and threatening; encouraged continually by
the false promises of Jo. Martin, who, from time to time,
on board of the ship at the mouth of the river, communi
cated to them pretended intelligence he had received
from Europe, to the effect that speedily a large army of
forty thousand troops, a considerable navy, and other
mighty, helps, would soon come to their aid and overrun

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 125
the entire continent, and reward them more fully for their
services. It is not, therefore, to be wondered that the
great body of these Tories, coming to the country with all
their European prejudices against, and ignorance of a re
publican government, not to speak of the vile corruptions
of European habits, ignorance and crimes, should fall the
ready dupes of these intrigues ; nor, that having habita
tions' in the bosom of society and in the midst of the
Whigs, they became the most dangerous and terrific
enemies. They almost at once formed leagues for plunder and
rapine, and sought by every means conceivable to harrass,
vex, and even to destroy the Whigs that seemed to stand
in the least degree in their way. The four Harpes, John,
William, and their sons big Bill and Joshuaj being
among the most active; having been longer in the coun
try than the Scotch and Irish generally, better acquaint
ed with the localities of the. land, as well as the most
worthy and wealthy, among the Whigs, they exercised a
decided influence in directing and abetting their nefarious
plans and schemes of depredation, upon them. There
were those among the Whigs, not a few, who, notwith
standing, felt the general disposition to pursue milder and
more conciliatory action toward the Tories; yet, the
greater number of them acted with great promptitude if
not cruelty and violence toward them ; often making them
feel the most awful retaliations for their crimes.
There was, however, to their honor, no acts of assaults
and injury perpetrated by them upon the defenceless
females of any of the Tory families, or upon, any Tory
who was not known to bean league with Tories in the
perpetration >of crimes. At this we really rejoice, for' the
honor of the cause and the country.
Of this Jatter class of Whigs we give the names of Col
onel Ezekiel Folsom, Captain: J. Wood, Ben. Rust, Pa
trick- Dillingham, Sylvester Stone, Tiberius Head, Sea-
burn Jones,. and/others, living dispersed throughout the

126 LEGENDS OF THE
several counties above mentioned, and in other parts of
the province; nevertheless, well known to each other,
and accustomed to act in great concert. The two first,
Folsom and Wood, were more active and less scrupulous
than any of the others, especially the former, in the means
employed to bring the Tories into their power as well as
in the punishments inflicted upon them when taken. In
deed, so cruel and unheard of were the punishments of
Folsom, that it was made the subject of serious expostula
tion and complaint against him on the part of many of
the more humane and generous Whigs. Nay, it was
sometimes believed, that the Colonel, in some instances
of his most harsh and cruel proceedings, sought by false
pretences and unfounded charges, only to gratify his per
sonal quarrels and private piques against some of his
countrymen, though generally regarded as friends to the
Whig cause. It was not so with the brave Wood. His
distinction in this respect, was his untiring vigilance and
unswerving perseverance in following, whithersoever he
might flee to any place or distance, every Tory known to
'"have been engaged in aiding and assisting the British in
committing any thefts, robberies, murders, or rapine of
any kind, perpetrated in his part of the country.
It was principally owing to his great enterprise and
perseverance that the three vile wretches that were guilty
of abducting and ruining forever the beautiful little Har
riet Eskridge, of whose melancholy fate mention is made
in a former portion of this chapter, were brought to a just
retribution for their crimes, and she restored to her
affrighted and almost murdered mother.
These Tories bore the names of Jacob Simonds, Jede-
diah Burk, and Sam. Jenkins. The two first, tolerably
nigh neighbors of Mrs. Eskridge, and the third from an
adjoining county. They had borne the unhappy Harriet
to a hunting lodge, distant from her home thirty-five
miles, situated in an extensive forest approaching the
head-waters of Haw river, fifteen or sixteen miles from

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 127
the nearest inhabitants and wholly deserted and unoccu
pied, except once, or perhaps more frequently, a year,
companies of hunters would shelter there of nights for
two or three weeks at a time.
The pursuit of these horrible men, their final discovery
and execution by the brave Capt. Wood and his two
friends, Ben. Rust and Peter Radford, at the door of their
despicable den, was for many years a favorite story of the
burly Ben. Rust, always narrated by him in most face
tious and graphic style, and in his own peculiar jocose
vein and manner. Making a description of this tragic
end of^the three miscreants, and with great zest detailing
their doleful looks, cries and supplications for mercy, as
well as their horrid distortions of person and action ;
dangling in the air, when swinging by the neck in the
agony of death, the subjects of the most sportive wit and
hilarity. He would always begin by a sort of warning to
the young ladies, in general, in much apparent gravity,
saying: " Young gals what's purty like, had ought to be mighty
careful how they show 'emselves to youngsters these
days, specially if they ain't goin' to marry 'em right off,
for the rascals, the Tories, ar'nt very partickalar how
they get 'em, and is mighty apt to any way. Now them's
my rail sentiments. Poor gal ! now if Harriet Eskridge
had'nt looked so pesky-like, at that rascal Jake Simonds,
which Capt. Wood and I, and that other man, swung up
at the hunter's den, jest when she seed he wanted to get
tolable nigh and to court her a bit at widda Elliott's quil-
tin, the week before, and jest let him fondle a little, and
make blieve a while, heed'r gone about his business arter
a while, and maybe shed'er never bin hurt any, or bin a
bit the worse on't. Now them's my sentiments.
" Well, I hain't told you yet the best on't. Well, poor
gal, she was took off mighty bad one^ night. The fellows
went to her mamma's that Saturday night, all on good
horses ; but one was stole from Bill Tate over in Tryon, a

128 LEGENDS OF THE
month before. Well, when they got to her mamma's they
seed the poor gal, and a proper purty one she was, walk
ing about in the truck patch, and they all jumps over the
fence and she seed 'em and gets mighty skeard like, and
runs and hollows plum to her mamma in the house, hol
lowing ' O ! mother, mother ! ' — well, Jake, he follers on,
too, and he and that 'tother villain, Jed. Burk, pulls her
right out on her mamma's arms and off they puts, fast, I
tell you. Three or four days arter that, Capt. John Wood,
a brave man as ever breathed the breath of life, comes
and sees me, and says :
" Ben Rust, that poor widda Eskridge 's lost hertdarter ;
Jed Burk and Simonds, and another fellow stole her last
Saturday night, little before dark, right from her mamma's
arms and went right off with her. Monday I hears on't
and rode and rode, and hunted and hunted, all through
the county, and the most I larnt was from old man Price
and his two boys. Says they, ' that night we was out
'possoming and seed three fellars ridin' mighty hard, and
one had a poor gal in's lap afore him ; the poor thing is
begging and begging, on they went, passing close by us,
and along the path that goes right towards the pilot moun
tain.' " ' Now,' saysGapt. Wood to me he says, ' Ben ' says he,
' you're a purty good woodsman, will fight I know, and
you're tried, I've come to get you to go with me and Rad
ford to try and find them Tories, and poor little Harriet,
and if we ketch 'em, ' says he, ' we'll have some fun' says
he. " ' Well, now,' says I, ' thems my sentiments peroisely^
Capt. J ohn Wood. I'll go ' says I, ' and if we ketch 'em I
reckin we'll make 'em pesky Tories dance for it and save
the little gal too.'
" And so we started and took Pete Radford alongvand
we fust struck out to the Yadkin like, and come to the*
big woods as they call 'em ; rode mighty hard that days
but, -not in a. strait rout', sorter crooked like, this way and'

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 129
then that way, till most night, and then we heard noth
ing of 'em. We all stopped, and Wood says, says he,
' Boys, let's rest awhile and talk a bit ; and we'll eat a
little as I am gitin' purty hungry. I've got plenty of
good jirk venison here in my bags and some purty good
cakes my old ooman gin me this mornin.' So we all set
down close to a branch, and eat and drank awhile. At
last says Capt. Wood, says he, ' Boys we're on the wrong
hunt. Them fellers did'nt come out this tract nor tow
ards the Arrarat, that is the pilot mountain, at all, at all,
but they took out towards the head of Haw river and
t'other side the big woods, and that's the way 'they went.
And now says he, I have just thought of it; I fully be
lieve I can guess where they went and are at this very
time. There 's, way out toward the head of Haw, a hunt
er's camp or cabin, where I seed Sam Jenkins once, last
year, with a passle of fellers on a hunti'n' expedition.'
" Says I, 'Captin, how far,' says I, 'is it off?' He
looks all around, thinks awhile and looks 'round agin, and
then says he, 'Boys its about twenty-five miles, and in '
the best huntin' ground this side the Blue Ridge.'
" Says I, ' well, Captin, I'm good for goin' right; to
that place ; but we must look out for some place to roost
all night, as the sun is purty lovv now, not more'n hou
high, and we can't travel these woods, no rode, nor path,
nor nothin' to steer by in the dark. Well, and how '11
that be?'
" Says he, he says, ' Ben, you're right ; but,' says he,
' we'll take the course and go it long as we have light,
and if we come to any water we'll stop, hobble our nags,
to get a little grass while we sleep, and in the mornin'
take the track again blight and early.'
" And so we all started, and went right fast, and when
dark was comin', thinks I there's no water, nor no branch,
nor spring here, and so we went on. . Presently says
Capt. Wood, says he, ' Boys here's a right purty spring
9

130 LEGENDS OF THE
running down from that hill, and then we stopped, hob
bled the nags, eat our beef tongue and venison jerk, built
a fire and went to sleep right quick. But before we went
to sleep boys,' says he, ' I'll tell you how we'll do in the
mornin'. We'll try and git to that huntin' den by ten
o'clock. When we git 'in a half mile or so, I'll creep to
the place and watch a bit, and then I'll creep nearer and
so I'll see who's thar, and if they ain't all thar we'll wait
and watch till if any's out huntin' or so he comes in, for I
want to ketch 'em all three, and we'll save the gal. And,'
says he, ' we'll have to work mighty particular.'
"Well, and so we did, you may depend. For, soon as
daylight come through the trees we hitched up and star
ted, and kept on purty brisk, till the sun begin to get on
my back like.
" Byrne by, Capt. Wood looks back, he says, ' now boys
I know where I am.' I once killed a big buck right long
this holler, and that den is about one mile over yonder,
and so he went ahead. Presently he says, ' now boyB
stop here.' Hold my horse. I am goin' to creep up now;
don't you see that cabin there? and don't you see there's
a little smoke comin' out of the chimney ? but, says he,
I must see if my rifle's all right, and my powder all right,
and pick my flint; and, you boys, must do the same.'
Says I, ' very well, captain.'
"And, so he goes creepin', and creepin', and then stops,
and peeps over the little hills like. Then, here he comes,
runnin' strait back, jumpin' like a skared wolf; and,
says he, 'boys they're all there, the poor gal and all!
Now, we must have some fun. Well, says I, if Ben.
Rust does'nt make them devlish Tories dance, this day,
then Polly Rust is not his mamma.'
" ' Capt. Wood, how'll we proceed to business,' says I.
" 'Peter Radford,' says I, 'how do you feel ? did yon
ever see a Tory dance ? '
"'No,' says he, ' I don't know as I did ; but I've seen

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 131
^m run, and I'm thinkin' if we ain't cautions, and get to
the door before they see us, they'll run, too, and we'll
loose 'em at last, one or more of 'em.'
" ' Well, Pete, we must take care not to give 'em a chance
for that,' says the brave captain. ' We must, in, the first
place, creep very near to the back part of the cabin.
Peter, you must stop right still, when I say ' Harriet.'
Ben, will then follow right after me up to the door, and,
if I am shot down, he must rush right in and hallo for
you, and you'll come, of course, and shoot, or do any
thing you can to catch the villains, and save the gal.
Now, come on, boys.'
"And so Peter and I tracked right after the captain.
He crept round to the side, like, of the old cabin.. He
stopped a little, looked around at Pete and me, and then
said, ' Harriet,' and made two or three jumps in, right at
the door. I followed close behind him. The Tories all
kitched up their guns, and run to the door, too, and says,
- what do you want ?'
" Capt. Wood says, ' I want you and must have you
quick.' " Jed. Burk, attempted to jump by us through the
door ; but the captain punched him on the side of his
head with the muzzle of his heavy rifle, and he fell back
into the cabin. Then Sam Jenkins tried it, but had no
better luck. Simonds fired his gun — just missed the
Captain's head, and shot through my left hand thumb.
He then tried to break out of the door; but with my
right fist, I tapped him on the side of his neck, and he
fell to one side. By this, Capt. Wood, was down on
Burk and Jenkins, and with one foot on Burk's breast,
and 'tother on the throat of Jenkins, hollering loud for
Pete to run and bring a rope from his saddle-bags.
Quick Pete was there with it. I had'nt more than
doubled a lick or two on Simonds, before he began to
cry loud and long for quarters. I give him a stamp or
two more on his cussed black Dutch head, and told him

132 LEGENDS OF THE
if he did'nt be still, I'de kill him right away. He laid
right still, ha ! ha ! ha ! But I believe he couldn't do
any better ; for I had let him have my heavy boot heels
on his neck and breast purty smart. ' Now,' says I, ' you
black Dutch devil, where's the poor gal you stole and
killed?' "Says he, 'O! I kilt no gal, Mr. Rust— there's Har
riet, now lyin' in the corner.'
" Sure enough, there she was just opening her eyes
fromjsleep-like ; and tied by the hands crossed behind
her to a big log in the corner of the room, most dead !
I jist kitched Jake Simonds by his long hair on his black
Dutch head, with my left hand, and dragged him right
up to where she lay tied, and with my right lifted her
up. She could hardly stand. I soon cut her loose, and
the poor gal kitched me round the neck, and said, 'Is
this you, Ben Rust ? ' and began to kiss me, ha ! ha !
haw ! haw ! Says I, ' not now, Harriet — not now.'
" By this time, Capt. Wood and Peter, had t'other two
rascals tied fast together.
" Says I, ' Pete, bring my halter from my horse's neck
to tie this Dutchman ! '
" He soon brought it, and mighty quick I had him tied
snug enough. Harriet had by this time run to Captain
Wood, fell down on her knees to pray, like, and thank
God that he had at last sent us to deliver her. I thought
all the time it was I and Capt. Wood, and Pete had done
it. " Well, now, friends, the best part i| got to come yet.
Says Capt. Wood, says he, ' Boys what shall we do next V
Now, I say, says he, ' hang these fellers right away.'
But, says he, ' we hav'nt rope enough, nor is what we
have Btrong enough.'
" ' Law,' says I, ' Captain, that's easy told ; for I seede
plenty of purty grape vines as I cumed along down by
the last branch we crossed, and thought, then, they'd do
very well to hang a dog with. Well, 1 can soon get some

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 133
of them, if we can do no better.' The villains looked
mighty bad and sheepish.
" I said to Burk, ' Yon white-eye Irish devil, what did
you steal this poor gal for, and sarve her so ? '
" ' Faith-, an' your honor, Misthur Rust, you'll plaze ax
Jeak Simonds for the likes o' that. He tould us the gal
scorned him, and wad ha' neithen' till say to the likes o'
him, and he'de die or have her all to himsel'; an' so Jen
kins and mesel' coomed along.'
" ' Yes,' says 1, 1 says ' Capt. Wood and I'll soon make
you all dance for cumin' along. You'll be mighty apt to
go along purty quick, as well as cum. And now, Cap
tain, says I, I'm just ready to go and get the grape vines
if you say so ? And off I and Pete puts. Soon we
brings four nice long ones.'
" ' These three will do,' said Pete ; if one don't brake,
and so he pulled down another proper one*right away;
we trimmed 'em, and I had 'em at the door, lively — and
I says, ' Now for it, Captain.'
" He says, says he, ' we'll take Jake fust.'
" 'Very well,' says I.
" So Jake begins to cry and holler, ' myne Cot, hab
marey — Jake bees no mo' Tory, no ryaller mo'; Jake
stealsh no mo' galsh ; me beeze cood vig all de time.'
" ' Ah ! ha ! ' says I, ' we know you'll steal no more
gals, and this purty nice grape vine will make you a cood
vig, as you call it.'
" By this time, I puts the grape vine in a slick running
noose, as folks call 'em, and pulled him right out of the
door and under the scaffold pole, put there for the hunters
to hang their bucks upon of nights, to keep 'em from the
dogs — high enough, too, to swing Jake and the rest of
'em on. Pete runs upon the cabin and out on the pole
like a cat, and says he, ' now throw up 'tother end.' Up
it went, quick he ties it. 'And now," says I, ' here goes.'
" 'Shtop a leetle,' says Jake.
" ' Stop,' says I, what for ?

134 LEGENDS OF THE
"'Jake steals no mo' galshs — no mo' 'orses — no mo'
nuttin' ! '
" ' Yes,' says I, ' them's my rail sentiments, and so here
goes ! '
" Swings back and forth, jist like the pendelum of an
other old Dutch clock, he did.'
" ' And now,' says I, I says, 'Captain, fetch on 'tother ;
I don't care if you fetch all on 'em, for I jist thought
they'd all look purty dancin' together up there,' and they
did purty quick, I tell you.
" ' Ha ! ha ! ' says Pete, ' now you all go it right.'
"All of us then got off very quick, left 'em swingin' and
crossin', and crossin' and swingin', and that night took
poor little Harriet to widd a Eskridge. I seede her mama
come and meet her ; and I don't want any more to see a
gal took back to her mama, I tell you.' "

" If thou tell'st this heavy story right,
Upon my soul the hearers will shed tears."
" I'll say of it, it tutors nature : artificial strife
Lives in these touches, livelier than life."
"Mad world, mad kings, mad composition."
"If it be aught toward the general good,
Let honor in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look both indifferently ;
For let the gods so speed, as I love
The name of honor, more than I fear death." — Shakspeare.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 135

CHAPTER XII,

The attack upon and murder of Capt. Jno. Wood by twelve Tories,
sent forth by Col. Ferguson of the British army to destroy him —
His burial by his son. " He was a man ;
The which, no sooner had his prowess confirmed
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died." Macbeth, Act V., Scene 7.
We have had occasion already several times to intro
duce in our remarks Capt. John Wood, and sufficient,
perhaps, has been said to acquaint the reader with the
general bent of his character and disposition. Of his
patriotism none could doubt. Few men ever rendered
more efficient partizan services to his country and more
effectual checks to the mischievous Tories that so abund-,
antly lived in his quarter of the colony. The conse
quence was, that he was the object of their greatest ter
ror and most deadly hatred.
In a former page we spoke of his surprising vigilance
and untiring perseverance in pursuing them and hunting
them down, to bring them to punishment for offences
against the peace and safety of the Whig families in any
of the counties contiguous to his home. Of this, indu
bitable evidence is given in the manly feat narrated in
the last preceding pages. Not a few others of like im
port could be furnished, but at present, at least, we will
not enlarge farther than to remark, that a very remark
able amount of ubiquity seemed to characterize his daring
intrepidity of action and usefulness during the three
years he lived after the commencement of the war. For
it was a matter of wonder to all who knew him — and

136 LEGENDS OF THE
they were many in all parts of North and South Caro
lina as well as in much of Virginia and Georgia — how
rapidly he would visit most of the neighborhoods of some
eight or ten counties in the two Carolinas and never
seem to be out of his own. Was there a theft, a murder,
or any other act of rapine perpetrated by small parties of
Tories, British or Indians, instantly he was appealed to,
his aid sought to pursue them, and his assistance by per
sonal effort or the most effectual counsel and advice freely
given. Frequently, also, he would be found in the ar
mies of the Whigs, conversing with the officers in the
most familiar terms. They all knew and highly appre
ciated his character, for the most indomitable courage and
military capacity ; often proffered commissions to him to
command in their divisions, if he would accept ; but
which he invariably declined, saying he was sure he
could do more good in his predatory mode of conducting
the war, than in any position he could take and confine
himself to particular portions of the army, or its opera
tions. He on several occasions, fought bravely in battles
under Sumpter, Green, and Marion, and was regarded as
invulnerable to balls or bayonets.
Often his friends admonished him of the great risks he
incurred in his rapid movements, traversing through the
country at all hours of the day, and sometimes night, in
the most perilous pursuits of and encounters with the To
ries. He always responded by the trite and almost silly
answer, he " would'nt die before his time came."
Alas, noble Whig! unfortunately for thee, thy country,
and especially thy most amiable family ! it came too
speedily ; and in most merciless and cruel form ! He
had but the night before, returned from one of his ra
pid tours through the country and a visit to the army.
At about two o'clock in the evening, sitting in his cham
ber with his excellent lady, his two daughters, Rosa and
Susan, and his youngest son, Henry, about fourteen years
old, his servant-woman sprang into the room and

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 137
said, " there is a great number of men coming to the
house, all with guns, and some running." The Captain
had barely time to leap toward his rifle, sitting in the
corner of the chamber, before two of them entered the
door and rushed upon him in great fury. Not having
time to raise it and shoot, so swiftly did they approach,
he eould use it no other way than with great force upon
the head of one of them, striking him a most deadly
blow, smiting him to the floor1, and crushing in the upper
part of his skull. Instantly the room was filled with
them, and four or five leaped at and upon him, like so
many tigers ; one of them stabbing him in the side with
a large bear or butcher knife ; they at last overcome and
bore him from the house into the yard, where they at
first proposed to shoot or hang him. Most terrible in
deed was this scene to his family. Mrs. Wood and Rosa
immediately fainted, and the latter seemed never to re
vive. Susan, less nervous and sensitive than her sister,
only ran from place to place in the house screaming and
weeping, as if deranged. Most of the servants, white
and black, were at a distance, on the farm, as also Frank,
the eldest son, of whom we have heretofore spoken, now
eighteen years of age. Having heard, however, th* loud
talking and screaming at the house, he, with several of
the hirelings, ran in great haste and reached the yard en
closure, just as four of the gang with his father in their
arms, were bearing him out-side, and proceeding to a
thick grove of timber, hard by. The white men all in a
moment entered the dwelling and closed the doors. But
the brave boy, Frank, at first followed the desperate vil
lains till three of them that were walking by the side of
the men carrying off his father, lifted their guns and
swore if he attempted to follow they would instantly shoot
him. He was wholly unarmed, and recognizing most of
the men as Tories he knew to be of the most despicable
and desperate charcter, he halted, concluding it would be

138 LEGENDS OF THE
futile for him to attempt, thus alone, to rescue his father,
he turned and ran in another direction, yet determined
to see what they should do to his beloved father. So into
the woods he also entered , circled around in the direction
they were taking, and when they stopped at the dis
tance of about four hundred yards from the house, he
crept as near to them as practicable, without being dis
covered, and hid himself in a thick cluster of small pines,
and some fallen timber ; still near enough to witness the
heart-rending scene, and sometimes to hear distinctly
many of the words spoken and conversation held with
him, before they murdered him. He saw these brutal
murderers strip and bind his parent to a large tree and with
hickory rods quickly gathered from the thicket at hand,
whip him till his lacerated back in a hundred streams
poured forth the tides of life. He spoke not a word to
deprecate their fiendish wrath in the least. But when
with the most bitter blasphemies and curses he was told
by one of them, they " would thus make his tor
ments atone for the lives of the many royalists he had
hung and shot," with a look of insuperable scorn, and a
voice of terrific fearlessness, he answered :
" El^t it has taken twelve of you Tory thieves, murder
ers, and dogs to accomplish it ! Now hear me, and
mark what I say. Nick Simonds, there is one, thank
God, who, though not here, and does not witness his fa
ther's tortures, will, though now a boy, visit these cruel
ties a hundred fold on you and your despicable clans ere
he will consent to sleep in his grave in peace." Then
lifting up his eyes toward Heaven, and crying with a
loud voice, " My God, my family, my country ! " his head
fell upon his breast, and he spoke no more. Nick Sin>
onds, as he ceased to utter this dread threat and proph
ecy, seized his rifle, presented it at the bosom of the dead
or dying man, in the act of firing, when Bill Earnest,
one of the gang, said to him, pushing up the muzzle of
the gun :

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 139
" Nick Zimanst, vat for youst shoot te tead manst — he
tead — he speakst no mo' agins ? "
Instantly these horrid savages cut loose the cords by
which his hands were bound around the tree, and finding
him totally dead, threw his body unceremoniously into a
heap of brush, formed by the top of a large fallen tree ;
prepared to depart and soon disappeared from the sight
of the agonized son. Going off they passed nearer still to
where Frank lay concealed. Mike Stalcup said to Nick
Simonds walking by his side:
"Well, we've done a good day's work arter all, in
killin' that d — d rebel. I thought he would kill two or
three on us any how, if we got into a scuffle wid 'em ;
but did'nt he hit that Irish bugger, Jim Follis, a tarrable
lick now? — I gosh, he jist mashed in his whole head, and
made the brains fly proper."
" Ah, he did ! " said Nick, " but vee's cum in too fast
for 'um, and I reckin we strung 'um 'bout right den. Do
ye dink, Col. Vargerson, (Ferguson) vat gib de vifty gin-
nis for dis vork, vill gib us te ode vun hunthred and vifty
for dis vork — veil I gish dwenty for dis time. Diebel,
vat for dat vig hang Jake, and gist caize him dake de
gal to de hunter's cabin ? Ah, ha, he gits stick mit mine
knife for dat, and very much vipping, too py tam."
" O ! I reckon Col. Ferguson 'ill pay it all right," said
Stalcup. " He said he would ; if he don't, Col. Tarlton
or Gen. Clinton will, I know — somebody's got to cum it."
Thus conversing, they passed beyond the hearing and
from the sight of young Wood.
When these two heartless scoundrels were thus talking,
moving slowly past him, still hid in the pine thicket, the
other nine being considerably in the advance, and out of
sight, he could scarcely restrain himself, armed as they
were, and, notwithstanding he had nothing but a small
pocket knife, from rushing out upon them and striving at
once to revenge his father's cruel death upon their mis
creant heads. But his father's dying words and proph-

140 LEGENDS OF THE
ecy were still ringing in his ears, and thrilling his ach
ing heart. He felt convinced it was of himself he spoke
and relied on him to avenge his death. He therefore re
solved to avoid the hazard and consider how he should
accomplish it. Soon after they had all disappeared he
rose from the place, and ran to the spot where he saw them
cast his poor father's gory corse. In all the agony of a
distracted and terribly tortured mind, and wounded heart,
he drew it forth from the brush heap, and having again
and again embraced it, yet warm and bathed in blood,
still trickling from a thousand wounds, he gently laid it
down and ran to the house to seek assistance to remove
it. All had fled, or been forced away ! Mother, sisters
and servants, all had disappeared ! The imagination,
however, highly wrought, could not justly depict, in
words sufficiently eloquent, the horror that then possessed
his soul ! Had those dreadful men whose guilty hands
were freshly steeped in the life's blood of his murdered
father, passed by and borne them all off to share his fate,
or even one more horrible and terrible ? Or had an
equally desperate clan borne off his beloved mother and
beautiful sisters, to subject them to the loathsome fate of
dozens in the country, of whom he had heard ? Horrible
thoughts ! unspeakable agonies for a time destroyed all
power of action, and enchained him in dread consterna
tion. But the reader will presently learn, that all this,
upon the heart and mind of this young man, whose ear-
lest dreams as well as thoughts of life, had been filled,
and it seemed feasted with tales and visions of human
suffering and of blood, was but as the chafing of the
chained or caged lion, the better to prepare him to he
ushered into the bloody amphitheatre, and the more cer
tainly and furiously to tear and destroy the doomed vic
tims of barbarous Rome. Astounded and paralyzed for
a short time, he prostrated himself upon the green sod of
his father's yard, rolled from side to side in unutterable
grief, shedding, however, not a tear, although enveloped

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 141
and steeped in tortures almost infernal ! Suddenly, how
ever, he sprang up, rushed to his mother's chamber door,
pushed it open, leaped in, saw the body of the Tory killed
by his father in the attack first made, and by its side his
father's and the dead Tory's rifles. He passed hastily
from room to room of the dwelling, returned to the
chamber, and stood for a moment in the midst of si
lence profound. Then recollecting for the first time he
had left his parent's corpse upon the ground, exposed to
be abused by hogs and other depredating animals, he de
termined instantly upon burying it as well as he could,
unable to place it more securely. He sought on the
premises for tools to excavate the grave. In the garden
he found a mattock and spade, and with them hastened
where he had left all that remained on earth of his he
roic sire.
By this time night had begun to spread its dark man
tle over earth and sky ; but the moon, which had risen
at or a little before sunset, had driven her peaceful char
iot upon an unclouded heaven for more than two hours
above the horizon, sheding forth her softest and clearest
light, before the deep, long grave was completed. Then
this heroic young Wood turned to his father's lifeless
corpse, which lay near at hand, and falling upon its cold
breast, still bare as the base scourgers had left it, and in
the gushing tides of filial affection he laid his throbbing
head upon that cold bosom, called upon God, holy angels,
and the departed spirit of his father, to witness the vow
he then made — in the dying words and prophecy of that
parent — never to rest satisfied till he had wreaked a just
and full vengeance upon the eleven that stabbed and
scourged him to death, or as many more of the Tories !
Reader, could you have listened to the entire detail of
that most tragic narrative flowing from the lips of that
very son — could you have seen those fury-flashing eyes,
distorted countenance and clenched teeth, as did the wri
ter see that son, then grown old and decrepid, and whose

142 LEGENDS OF THE
head was then whitened by the frosts of many winters,
entering, as he told the story, into all the thrilling feel-
iugs and sentiments that, at the first, filled his soul with
anguish and vengeance — acting and gesticulating as at
first those feelings and sentiments naturally prompted
and dictated, — aye, if you never before had conceived
and fully comprehended the extent and climax of fallen
and corrupted human passion and rage, you would then
have had it fully and most vividly exhibited before you.
But then had he verified his father's prophecy ? and
had he fulfilled his own dreadful vow ? This we will in
a future chapter disclose.
Child of the brave, hear the echo of glory,
That breaks from the hills of our country now free ;
And the voice of our fathers, immortal in story,
Which Bpeaks in the lessons of heroes to thee.
The sound of the battle I heard on the mountain,
The foe-men I saw — Oh, our fathers were there I
I saw their red blood as it gushed like a fountain ;
But what is the echo of glory ? — and where ?
'Tis the sound of the war^song we learn'd from our mothers,
The war-song of heroes who bled to be free;
'Tis the echo we heard on the hills with our brothers,
That speaks as the voice of the thunder to thee.
0, soft are the breezes that play 'round their tombs I
And sweet with the violet's wafted perfumes,
With lillies and jessamines rare ;
The traveler, outworn with life's pilgrimage dreary,
Lays down his rude staff, like one that is weary,
And sweetly reposes, forever there.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 143

CHAPTER XIII.

Parson Frazier again — His return to the neighborhood of Elder
Brame — His courtship and marriage with the rich, young, and
accomplished Virginia lady, Miss Happy Thompson, and then-
settlement upon a portion of her fine estate at Hillsboro', North
Carolina, together with other interesting touches of Virginia gal
lantry and courtship in the Old Dominion.

" They say, all lovers swear more performance than they are able,
and yet reserve an ability that they never perform ; vowing more than
the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of
one. They that have the voice of lions and the action of hares, are
they not monsters?" — Troilus and Cressida, Act III., Scene 2.
All will remember the eloquent Rev. Mr. James Fra
zier and his appointment to preach again at the Reedy
Church the Sabbath week following the day of his part
ing with Elder Brame and family at Hanover Town. A
general notice throughout Caroline and Hanover counties
had been given of the meeting, and on the day when he
came to fulfill it he found a large assemblage of the peo
ple of all classes and sexes. Elder Brame, Miss Happy
Thompson, his ward, and his two daughters, Amy and
Sarah, met the reverend gentleman. Miss Mary Brame
and Miss Elizabeth Thompson declined accompanying
them, agreeing and remarking, " they had no need of a
lecture on love affairs or obligations at that time, and
they would rather not have one from the Rev. Doctor
Frazier at any time."
" Oh, ho, sister," said Miss Happy Thompson, " I
suppose you and Cousin Mary are reserving yourselves to
be the more attentive auditors of the lectures on those
subjects to be addressed to sister Elizabeth in the love
sick, sighing, and weeping pathos of Capt. Martin Haw-

144 LEGENDS OF THE
kins, and Cousin Mary, when the highly cultivated and
sentimental Mr. James Smith, is the orator."
" Well. Cousin Happy," said Mary very playfully and
a little sarcastically, " I trust in either case the text will
not be the fits and starts of a poney bewitched, and a
famishing Ruth."
" Come, come," said Elder Brame, scarcely refraining
from a loud laugh himself, " your sportiveness is little
suited to the reverence due the Sabbath day. But it's
just like you, my little girl ; you cannot forego your wit
whoever or whatever may be the subject of it."
" Ah I never mind, Uncle," said Happy ; " I love to
witness the playful wit of my Cousin Mary, even if I am
myself the victim of it." ,
The sermon of Mr. Frazier being over, and obtaining
very general approbation and applause from his audience,
as was expected, he accompanied the Elder and the la
dies on their return, and to dinner. It was generally said
that his effort of that day was very creditable, — sustain
ing fully the reputation which had preceded him before
his visit to the Old Dominion, from North Carolina
and Pennsylvania. The learned Mr. James Smith, how
ever, hinted in a conversation with the Elder a few days
after, that he thought it was very materially, and rather
too much so — as he forgot to give credit for them — made
up of quotations from sermons of the Rev. Doctor Blair,
of Scotland, and the famed Dr. Tillotson of England.
However, he thought it was all very well and eloquently
delivered. Gregory Baynham, who was present, also said : "For
my part I confess, in the matter of the sermon, I was a
little disappointed. I expected it would be chiefly em
ployed in the discussion of matrimony as an important
religious duty, and as beautifully illustrative in some
way of God's eternal election and foreordination. I
reckon, however, those distinguished divines, Blair and
Tillotson, had neither of them been captivated with a fair,

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 145
young and wealthy heiress, and therefore put nothing of
the sort in their sermons, — ha, ha, ha, ho ! Well, I should
like to hear what Miss Happy thinks on the subject, any
way." By the by, it was pretty well understood among the
most observant and 'cute of the family that Mr. Baynham
himself had been thinking for the last three years of the
pretty Miss Happy Thompson, and had rather desired to
administer upon her fine estate of fifteen or twenty ne
groes, twelve hundred pounds in cash, and many hundreds
of acres in Virginia and North Carolina. He had even
ventured so far as to ask her faithful old servant, Cyrus,
what he thought of the match ; and had actually, on one
occasion, sighed twice, and then seemed to sit in a brown
study for the space of ten minutes or more, looking most
despondent. Indeed, he repeated what he either some
how learned from Campbell, or Campbell from him :
" The world was sad! the garden was a wild !
And man, the hermit, sighed — till woman smiled! "
Farther than this, he certainly never ventured to make
known to Miss Happy, in any way, his sorrows. After
she was married, nevertheless, he was heard to say,
" well, I could ha' got her, if I had a wanted to ! " A
pretty common lullaby, that, of all old " batch eldors." —
At all events, all concluded who had the least notion of
the current of Mr. Baynham's sentiments toward Miss
Happy Thompson, he was not the most impartial judge
of the Scotch parson's merits, in or out pf the pulpit.
The parson, notwithstanding the gibes and jokes which
often passed between the members and visitors of the
pleasant old Virginia household of the pious old Elder,
by whom and his meek and quiet old lady he was treated
with marked respect and hospitality, passed his time in
great apparent comfort and cheerfulness for four or five
days. Sometimes he entertained himself in culling over
the somewhat carefully selected, but small library of the
10

146 LEGENDS OF THE
good Elder ; and sometimes in hastily snatched ttte-a-tttes
with Miss Happy Thompson ; or joining in with the
young ladies and their visitors in the plays introduced in
the evening after supper, — blind man's buff, &c, with
great hilarity and zest ; faithfully complying with all the
penalties inflicted in the redemption of pawns ; particu
larly manifesting delight when sentenced to administer to
Miss Happy sundry kisses by way of punishment for
some delinquency or other. They took walks, jaunts on
horses to the river banks, and other of the more enter
taining scenes of the neighborhood. And whatever were
the precise conversations between the reverend gentle
man and the young lady, the result was that he felt him
self authorized to address her uncle and guardian on the
subject of their union ; prefacing his remarks, however,
by saying that before anything in the way of a consum
mation of that union could be effected, he should be com
pelled to return to North Carolina on very important bus
iness, which had in good part arisen there since he left,
and might prolong his stay for five or six weeks.
Mr. Brame, after a short time spent in deliberation,
spoke with great seriousness of his affection for, and duty
toward his niece ; enquired of the gentleman if he had
been authorized by her thus to address him on the sub
ject ; spoke of her as the eldest daughter of his deceased
and long lost sister, and of his brother-in-law, also no
more ; that Miss Thompson was heir to a beautiful estate,
estimated as being worth at least fifteen thousand pounds,
and in every way near and dear to himself and family.
" Besides," said he, " to me and all of us, my dear sir,
except as it regards your ministerial relations to our
Church, and the satisfactory vouchers you hold in that re
spect, you are almost altogether a stranger. Now, while
in reference to ordinary matters in or out of Church, those
testimonials would be esteemed every way sufficient, yet
upon the very serious and solemn subject on which you
have addressed me, they seem to me not altogether satis-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 147
factory. There is, I am fully persuaded, about to come
upon this country trials and exigencies of a nature, both
in respect to its civil, political and religious relations, of
¦a peculiar character, and you must pardon me when I tell
you, it would be a source of very great disquietude of
mind to have, even in that way, any one connected with
my family, and my niece dependant upon such an one,
likely to be an enemy to the vital interests of this beauti
ful land ; or who would countenance, or in any degree
favor the course now being pursued by the king, minis
ters, and parliament. The Scotch," he somewhat more
pleasantly continued, " in this country, very generally
side with the king, and seem, with scarcely one excep
tion, to condemn and denounce the course of the people
in Boston and other places, in evading and defeating the
king and his officials. Now, although I hope for better
things in you, yet I do not know your sentiments nor
views upon these subjects."
As the Elder ceased these very candid and rather ex
tended remarks, in some degree of embarrassment and
perturbation of mind Mr. Frazier rose and walked with
out saying a word, or even looking at Mr. Brame, in a
somewhat hurried step, five or six times from end to end
of the parlor in which they were seated. He then turned
to him and said :
"You altogether surprise me, sir! Miss Thompson's
estate is estimated at fifteen thousand pounds ! This
truly embarrasses me ! I would far rather that she was
much poorer in that respect, lest some should think the
fortune has attracted me, instead of the lady. Now as it
respects your want of a sufficient acquaintance with me,
that could be easily remedied in a letter from Governor
Joseph Martin, the royal Governor of the province of
North Carolina, and his Secretary, Wm. Fenton, both of
whom I have long and intimately known, as well as a
goodly number of others who, I am assured, would unite
in recommending me as a gentleman worthy of your re-

148 LEGENDS OF THE
gard any moment I would ask them. But I presume, bro
ther Brame, that can scarcely be necessary."
" Parson Frazier," said the Elder, " I am a plain blunt
man ; sometimes I fear a little too much so. I am, I
trust, an honest man, and therefore in this matter, where
the future well-being of my niece is so importantly in
volved, I think that I, as her uncle and guardian, should
be very particular. Our acquaintance with you has been
very brief indeed ; an ordinary prudence would say en
tirely too brief for so solemn an engagement as the one
you propose. You refer me, however, to letters of recom
mendation from Governor Martin, the royal Governor of
North Carolina, and others who you say are your intimate
acquaintances, and who, you are assured, would speak
in the most favorable terms of your character, &c, and
judge this can scarcely be required ? Yet permit me to
say to you, I think differently. My father used often to
say, ' caution is the parent of safety.' But, Mr. Frazier,
did you not speak of the letters of recommendation of
Governor Martin and his secretary ? Now, is this the
Governor Jo. Martin of North Carolina, who sent forth
that precious and most abusive proclamation against the
people generally of that province, and particularly the
convention at Charlotte, who declared independence, as
well as the provincial Congress at Hillsboro' ? Because,
I just say, parson, if it be that man you refer to, I would
not regard his recommendation or commendation a fig in
your behalf. His undignified language and billingsgate
denunciations in those bullying proclamations settle with
me the sort of man he is. And so he is your intimate
friend and acquaintance, is he ? "
, " O yes, Mr. Brame, it is Governor or Joseph Martin
of that province, I spoke of, and his secretary, — ah, to be
sure, he was one of my most particular friends before we
met in America, and — and — I — I — did not know you did
not know him. Well, well, I fell out with him, too, a
little, for his proclamations ; I — I think he was a little

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 149
too strenuous in objecting to the people assembling them
selves together, in any case. For. certainly, Elder Brame,
they have the right to come together to petition his most
gracious majesty for the redress of grievances, and such
like. But I am quite of his opinion on the subject of the
divine right of the king and his magistrates. Ah, sir,
don't you think he was right in that ? "
"No, sir," said the elder. "But, Mr. Frazier, I shall
not engage in any argument with you on the subject. I
do not see that that is pertinent to the object of our pres
ent conversation. I asked you sometime since if you had
permission of my niece to address me on the subject of
your marriage ? please explain, sir."
" Oh, yes, yes, Bro. Brame, the little angel gave her
full consent ! ah ! yes, yes " —
" Well, sir, I confess myself," said the elder, " by no
means competent to the controlling of the will or actions
of angels, and shall doubt very much whether in this
case any angel is involved ; but as I feel the happiness for
life of a very amiable nieee and ward is hazarded in this
affair, I desire to act with becoming prudence, so far as I
am concerned. I must request, therefore, that I may be
excused from giving you a definite answer till I can see
and converse with Miss Thompson in respect to it. And
while I say to you, I will not now consent to your wishes,
nor deny my consent, I will not employ any undue influ
ences to dissuade her from what she may have determined
upon. She is certainly, still, so far as the law is con
cerned, subject to my guardianship. But as she is also
old enough to think and choose for herself in these mat
ters, I shall by no means interpose my authority against
her deliberate determination."
The parson responded, he at all events hoped that his
intimacy with Governor Martin and other of his Ma
jesty's officers in the colonies, and claiming them as his
special friends, would not be made to operate against

150 LEGENDS OF THE
him — especially as their intimacy and mutual friendship
was not of a political character ; " for I assure you,"
said he, " we are very much at odds on politics. I, sir,
can never be anything but an American in heart and
feeling, let what may come to pass ! "
They separated. The elder only remarking he would
have a further conversation with him at three o'clock in
the evening.
Mr. Brame repaired in a few minutes to the chamber
of his lady ; informed her of the purport of the conversa
tion just had with the reverend Scotchman, and of the
difficulties with which his own mind had been perplexed
on the subject of the suitableness of the match proposed
for his young and much beloved niece. He told her he
was free to acknowledge Mr. Frazier a highly cultivated
and accomplished scholar, an ingenious debater, and
pretty sound in theory as a preacher of the gospel. But
of his personal habits and character he was certainly not
assured or satisfied. He spoke to her in great warmth
of aflection for the dear girl ; of her excellent qualities of
mind and disposition ; her undeviating compliance with
all his requirements and commands as her guardian, and
oft-repeated acts of kindness and affection toward himself
and all the family as relations. He said she had always
been for her own merits' sake very dear to him, espe
cially as she so much favored his long lost sister, her
mother. But he said, since under the preaching of Mr.
Wesley she became aroused to a sense of her condition as
a sinner before God, and had so earnestly sought for reli
gion and had been converted by the grace of God, to ex
perience His power to save, she had become doubly
dear to him. But still with all these endearing qualties,
and notwithstanding her finely educated mind, she was
young and very inexperienced, confiding in and unsus
pecting of the teaching of others, while with the strong
allurements of her ample estate actuating mere mercena.-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 151
ries most powerfully by the most specious appliances and
studied schemes to engage her affections and grasp her
riches, she was liable to become their victim.
At these remarks of the venerable elder, his meek and
very affectionate wife, who loved Happy and sister Eliz
abeth, her foster-children, with all the tenderness and so
licitude of a fond mother, became excited to tears of real
joy, in the words of praise and approbation bestowed on
her favorite Happy, by her mueh loved husband ; and af
ter having for a short space indulged in those feelings of
maternal gratification, recapitulating in her own mind
her husband's words, she was awakened to the apprehen
sion, that he himself entertained doubts of the character
of the parson, and the confidence to be reposed in his fu
ture integrity of purpose and propriety of conduct.
" Dear me," she said, " Mr. Brame, can it be possible
that you doubt Mr. Frazier's real character, and look
upon him as a mere adventurer and matrimonial specu
lator ? O ! my, my ! Can it be possible you fear he is
such- a character ? "
" Oh ! " he replied, " it may be not quite so bad as
that. But I freely confess that I am not satisfied with
him in these respects either. Beside, wife, you know my
views in regard to the contests now growing daily more
and more certain to result in a general and bloody war,
between the colonies of America and the mother country ;
and that I have had and frequently expressed to you
doubts, whether any man, irreligious or even pious, can
for a moment in any degree approve and sanction the
course of the king, ministry and parliament, in regard to
America, and be an honest and sincere man, in any
thing. Such still are my doubts. Upon mentioning my
want of knowledge of his character and past conduct, in
our conversation this morning, and fearful of the effects
likely to result in reference to all in this country, from
the collisions now existing with England ; also of my
most unqualified approval of the former and condemna-

152 LEGENDS OF THE
tion of the latter ; he protested he was a true friend' to
his adopted country, and could not be anything else but
an American in heart and soul. But yet, when he un
dertook to give me references for the past propriety of his
character and conduct, he could give none but the royal
Governor of North Carolina, Joseph Martin, and a few
other crown officers, who were his most particular friends
and acquaintances. When, however, I mentioned that
fact to him, he sought to avoid its force against him by
saying those friends and he had fallen out on the subject
of politics, and differed by great odds ; and so we parted,
— I promising him to converse with him again on the sub
ject this evening at three o'clock. In truth, I cannot help
remembering the old Spanish adage — ' tell me the com
pany you keep and I'll tell you the man you are.' "
" Well, my husband," said Mrs. Brame, " what have
you determined to do in this matter ? Our dear Happy
is nearly of age — capable of choosing for herself. We
know that her judgment is upon subjects within her
knowledge or experience, very good, and that on all oc
casions and in respect to all persons, especially ourselves,
her conduct is uniformly amiable and kind. But, indeed,
I apprehend, if the dear child has determined upon this
union, and her affections are involved, even at the pres
ent but slightly, kind treatment and gentle means may
do something ; but the contrary, more harm than good."
" Indeed, Mary, I think so, too," he replied. " Please
however, converse with her yourself as soon as conven
ient, and then ask the child to come here, and I will talk
to her also. What is to be said or done on the subject
must be done quickly, as I suppose I must say yea or nay
this evening."
Mrs. Brame immediately repaired to the room of her
niece, told ner the nature of the interview she had just
had with her uncle, and asked if she had consented to the
parson's addressing her uncle on the subject of their mar
riage, &c.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 153
In great frankness Miss Happy answered that she had ;
and expressed many regrets that she was so unfortunate
as not to meet with her uncle's approval in the matter.
She then threw her arms around the neck of her kind
foster-mother and burst into a flood of tears ; kissing the
cheek of her aunt, she began to speak of the great debt
she owed to her and her uncle for all their innumerable .
manifestations of kindness and parental affection toward
herself, her sister and her brother, reared by them from
very tender years ; spoke most pathetically of the pain it
must forever give her to disoblige them, but stated that
she had learned from Mr. Frazier the difficulties pre
sented by her guardian, and as she deemed them, though
altogether sincere, still not sufficient. She thought she
should so regard them, and act accordingly.
Her gentle tempered aunt, often returning in the most
affectionate manner her niece's caresses, rose, and with
out urging the beautiful girl in the least degree to alter
her determination, — only saying it was her uncle's re
quest she would see him in his chamber as soon as con
venient, retired. In a few minutes Miss Thompson, in
obedience to the summons from her uncle, entered her
aunt's chamber, found him sitting alone. He rose and
led her to a chair as she entered, and was for a moment
or two not a little embarrassed by observing the rapid
tides of feeling and sentiment coursing through her entire
being, and her blushes coming and going. Presently,
however, he spoke to her, and in tones the most gentle
and affectionate, told her of the conversation with Mr.
Frazier, what were his fears, doubts, and apprehensions,
and of the pain he experienced in seeming, even in any
way, to thwart her wishes. He said he should not, if she
declared to him she had deliberately determined upon
giving her hand to Mr. F., oppose her wishes.
Blushing very deeply, but yet with a voice of much
distinctness and firmness she said : " I have learned, un
cle, from Mr. F., the general purport, I suppose, of your

154 LEGENDS OF THE
objections, and have considered them over with all the
deliberation and calmness of which I am capable ; yet
with the highest regard and deference for your opinions
upon this or any other subject, I must take the liberty to
say, they do not seem to be substantial and overruling in
their nature, and have, there'ore, concluded, by your per
mission, to fulfill my engagement ; and I ask the kind
ness of your so informing Mr. F. in your interview this
evening." She then burst into tears. Her uncle gazed upon her
for some minutes in silence, and with a most affectionate
look, told with unmistakable force the admiration and pa
rental regard he entertained for her. In soothing tones he
declared how much he desired her happiness, and deter
mination, as far as he was able, to do everything calcula
ted to make it perfect."
" But, my dear niece, did the gentleman tell to you one
of my difficulties ? — that I feared he, like almost all his
countrymen in this country, favored and would, in the
event of a revolution to take place in resisting British op
pression, be found on the side of the enemies of Amer
ica — did he speak of this, my child ?"
" No, sir," she said, " I never heard or thought of such
a thing before, and cannot but hope it is not the case.
Of course, uncle, it would not be expected that I should
understand the whole matter in controversy, between the
colonies and the mother country. I should say I do not.
But this much I do comprehend : on the one hand is my
native blessed America, and on the. other a foreign land
and people. I am, I feel, for my country, now and forev
er ; and I freely declare, if a gentleman seeks my hand,
who is not my country's friend, that fact would be very
far from being a recommendation, if it did not constitute
an insuperable objection. But, my dear uncle, is it so ?
Have you indubitable proof that Mr. F., is like the rest
of his countrymen ? " "0 no, my child, I have not. He
very roundly denies it ; and says he has quarreled with

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 155
his best friends, the royalists, in North Carolina, about it.
I hope also, when the trial comes it may not be so. And,
my dear Happy,! shall say to the reverend gentleman at
once, in this evening's conversation — although, I confess,
there seems to me something wrong in this hasty engage
ment — I will make no further objection, and shall com
mit the whole matter to the providence of God, and pray
for your mutual happiness in time and eternity."
Then kissing her blushing cheek, he left her to make
her way back to her chamber, which she soon attempted ;
but having to pass the parlor door, she was seen by her
sister and cousin, Mary and Sarah Brame, who, with Mr.
Martin Hawkins and Gregory Baynham, had- buj; just
returned from a brief visit to the family of a relative, Mr.
R. Wyatte, at the White Chimneys ; and who all joined to
insist that she should come in and account for herself in
not being found, either her or the parson, when they
were preparing for the ride, and desired so much to have
them along, to enjoy, the trip.
" Oh, come, Sarah Brame, said Mary, let cousin Hap
py alone about that, for I learn since we've got back,
that Happy was engaged in the more important matter
of arranging all the preliminaries of the .transfer of her
whole fortune, lands, negroes, pounds, shillings, and
pence. Nay, what is far more, if the purchaser only had
the sense requisite to appreciate it, her own precious
self." Poor Happy blushed and her face seemed to approach
almost a purple color. In fact, she seemed so exhausted
in strength, as to be compelled to take a chair.
"Ah, sister," said Sarah Brame, "you are too severe
on our dear cousin Happy. I wonder how you discover
ed so much since we returned ; but there's nothing like
mischief can escape your inquisitive eye and ear. For
my part, I cannot see why you should say all this — laugh
ing at the dear sweet girl."
Mr. Hawkins and Miss E. Thompson, were at a little

156 LEGENDS OF THE
distance from the others in the room, seeming very much
engaged in conversation. Mr. Hawkins, with his hand
kerchief to his eyes as if crying, and yet talking, and
Miss E. Thompson listening in great apparent interest,
with her eyes cast on the floor ; neither hearing a word
of the remarks made by the Misses Brame. Mr. Baynham',
however, heard it all, and with a countenance expressive
of much more than its usual gravity and thoughtfulness.
Indeed, there was something like a dark and gloomy
shade of despair passing over it, as he listened and thought
in wonder what Miss Happy was about, and with whom,
when the young ladies set out in the morning. At last he
thought of the starting poney, at the Pomonkee bridge ;
of the hero of that scene, and his own prediction that
that whole affair had been brought about by the mis
chievous trick and contrivance of Cupid himself; he
bawled out, " Confound all these starting ponies ! it isn't
the first time I have known them to do great mischief.
O ! ho, did'nt I tell you all so ? did'nt I tell yon so ? "
" What, Mr. Baynham ? " said Happy, " what did you
tell us all?"
This he answered much more in seriousness than jest
after a moments pause. " Well," he said, " I told you
all it would be well for me, if something did'nt come of
that bridge affair in the end to make me weep, rather
than laugh."
" Really," said Miss Mary Brame, pointing to Mr. Haw-
kin's, who sat still quite close to Miss Elizabeth Thomp
son, with his handkerchief applied to his eyes, "I should
like to know if Capt. Hawkins has also met with a
bewitched little starting poney ? He must have done,
or be about to do something very bad, as he seems cry
ing most piteously already."
^ At this Mr. H. slowly withdrew his handkerchief from
his eyes and all saw them looking as red as if he had just
applied an ounce or less of cayenne pepper, or of onion
juice to them. In truth, it was said and believed gener-

WAB OB1 INDEPENDENCE. 157
ally, that he said himself after he married Miss Elizabeth,
that one or both of those articles he kept by him to put
in his eyes, to plead with the lady when all else failed.
At this moment the servant entered, announced dinner,
and requested the ladies and gentlemen to walk into the
dining-room. All arose and followed, but Mr. Hawkins,
who took his hat, requesting to be excused for a few min
utes, and the others proceeded to dinner.
In the evening at the hour of three precisely, the elder
went to the room assigned to and occupied by the parson
while at his house. He found him there and prepared to
receive him. As soon as both were seated, the parson
observed to the elder, " sir, I beg your pardon, but I must
inform you, I have changed my views in respect to the
business of which I spoke to you this morning, and,
and,"  "And what, Mr. Frazier?" said the elder,
looking at the person addressed, with an expression of
scorn, and an eye flashing a little more of fury than the
meek and quiet old gentleman was before seen for many
years to display.
" Mr. Frazier, so far as I am myself, concerned, I don't
know, but I ought to rejoice at the change you say you
have taken in respect to a union with my niece ; for I can
truly say, I was not, and am not now, pleased with the
idea of its taking place. But, sir, as there are feelings
and rights of another, entitled to my most tender regards
and protection, involved in this caprice of yours, it shall
not pass without my utmost censure, and rebuke. What,
Bir, can justify you, a grave minister of the sanctuary of
God ! a preacher of the gospel of peace, in thus wound
ing and insulting the confidence of an unoffending and
amiable young lady ? " N
"Oh! oh ! replied Mr. F., my dear elder, are you not
laboring under some misunderstanding of my remarks
just made?"
" If I am, responded Mr. Brame, I shall be glad for
you to explain :— -Did I not understand you plainly to

158 LEGENDS OF THE
say you had come to the conclusion to decline the hand
of my niece in marriage ? "
" Dear me, no, father Brame 1 no, no. I only said I
had changed on that subject; and, and was going on to
say, I wished no delay on account of my trip to North
Carolina, and if it met with your approbation, our union
should be consummated in a few days."
"Aye, that is the change, is it ? Very well, very well
then, I ask your pardon, parson Frazier," said the elder.
"Be it so, and I confess it suits my views much better, if
such are my nieces wishes ; for I cannot say I like long en
gagements and betrothals myself; and, if this thing, or
match, is to take place, let it be over at once, or in some
short time. For there's an old saying, 'There's many
a slip between the cup and the lip.' "
" I am, truly gratified, dear elder, that everything is
likely to turn out as we wished. I understand you freely
to consent to our union, and if you please, it is today,
"Friday, by the consent of Miss Thompson, we will be
married here on Sunday morning, as soon as morning
worship is over, and before breakfast. She told me to.
fix any time that would suit myself."
" Well, well, said the elder, so let it be. I will see
parson Toddson to-morrow, and will get him to be here at
that time."
With this arrangement between them, they parted.
Mr. F. going to join the ladies and gentlemen in the par
lor ; the elder and his lady in her chamber. Not finding
Miss Happy, he wandered forth and soon found her seat
ed in the summer-house in the garden, aud in due time
and form detailed the result of the interview with her
uncle, and received from her own lips a confirmation of
the entire arrangement. And here we will leave the
Rev. Mr. Frazier, carrying everything before him, or
having everything in his own way.
According to the time appointed they were married,
and he received duly from the venerable uncle and guar-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 159
•dian, his wife's cash and negroes, and every necessary
voucher to possess himself of her large estate in lands,
in the neighborhood of Hillsboro', North Carolina, &c,
whither he shortly after conducted his beautiful bride to
that place and settled in the highly creditable and honor
able employment of teaching a female boarding school,
where we shall, if the courteous reader please, leave them
for the present.
"The bridal is o'er, the guests are all gone;
The bride's only sister sits weeping alone.
The wreath of white roses is torn from her brow,
And the heart of the bridemaid is desolate now ! " —
T. H. Bayley.

160 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XIV.

Frank Wood, after the burial of his murdered father, endeavors to
find his mother and sisters— Uncle Dan and his brave African
troops are introduced at his cabin — Frank returns home, and im
mediately afterwards enters upon his first campaign in the army
of the revolution — He joins the command of General Morgan at
Waxaw Bottoms — Is with the Whigs in the battle of Kings Moun-
tain^Kills several of the Tories that assassinated his father and
in that battle shoots from his horse the British commander, Colo
nel Ferguson, while the latter is rallying his retreating troops —
Other details of Frank Woods' adventures in the service of the
country, and in fulfillment of his vow of vengeance.

" But let the earth or waters pour,
The loudest din or wildest roar;
Let anarchy's broad thunder roar,
And tumult do its worst to thrill —
There is a silence to the soul
More awful and more startling still 1 " — Eliza Cook.
Of Fbancis Wood, or as we have heretofore called him
Frank Wood, son of Capt. John Wood, we further nar
rate. After he as we stated, witnessed the savage death
inflicted by the eleven Tories on his noble and venerable
father — after he had solemnly vowed with his head rest
ing upon that cold and breathless bosom, deeply lacera
ted and torn by their cruel hands, and dyed in its own
blood, to fulfil his fathers prophecy and wreak vengeance
upon these Tories for the cruelties inflicted. After hav
ing laid that manly corpse in the deep cold grave, pre
pared with his own hands, and raised upon it an unos
tentatious mound ; in gloom and sorrow, passing all des
cription, he returned again to the house, still tenanted
alone by the dead Fallis, as he had left it several hours
before.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 161
Again he, as if still to assure himself that his mother,
sisters and all were gone, visited the difierent rooms in
the dwelling, and then visited the kitchen and several
other out-houses. Not a word or exclamation escaped
his lips, or any other sounds, but occasional ' groans that
broke from his tortured breast, resembling the sullen,
harsh growls of an infuriated tiger more than the natur
al expressions of human sorrow, but suited, nevertheless,
more than sighs, or exclamations of affliction, to express
the thoughts of vengeance, then absorbing and flooding
his soul! The feeling and sympathizing reader will
readily imagine his agonies in view of what he had just
witnessed of the cruel sufferings and death of his beloved
father ; greatly aggravated (if aggravation were possible)
by the heart rending conviction that the same merciless
banditB, or others no less merciless, had borne off his
meekrand lovely mother, and dear sisters to murder or
worse than murder, dishonor, and degrade them for life !
" Oh ! " said he, when many years after, relating to the
writer as twice he did these dreadful scenes, and his
feelings at the time, " Sir, I could not have borne it for
a minute and must have died, if throughout that terrible
night -with the sufferings the dread apprehensions for my
mother and sisters heaped upon me, had not the last words
and prophecy of my dying father threatening vengeance
by the hands of his son, been still ringing in my ears,.
and his last defiant looks, been indeliably imprinted on
my soul ! Nay, even then, I should have sunk under
the sense of this ponderous weight of duty to requite the
cruelty shown my family upon the heads of the bloody
Tories, had I not had a sort of assurance and presenti
ment of mind, that I should live long enough to accom
plish it to the fullest extent, bringing into my crushed
heart, balmy touches of hope, continually pouring upon,
and stimulating my soul!"
"At length, the rush of horrible thought, seemed to
abate ! — Seating myself upon the door-sill of my mother's-
11

162 LEGENDS OF THE
chamber ; lifting up my eyes, and fixing them for a time
upon the moon's bright sheen, in a sort of listless revery
I gazed, till my thoughts seemed calmed by her mild and
genial light, and my anguished soul less poignantly af
flicted. It was midnight. The moon that had risen with
the parting day, was now beginning her descent toward
the verge of the western horizon in calm and peaceful
splendor; not a flitting cloud obtruded athwart her love
ly disc ! not a breeze stirred to start the fluttering leaf, or
wave a blade of grass, but as if in sympathy with the
dead silence of the hour, and as if in unison with the
queen of night's enchantments, stilled the tempest raging
in my sorrowful bosom ! More composed, reason became
more free and took up anew the sudden disappearance of
my mother and sisters ; and all-buoyant hope once more
sprang up gently whispering, they had not been rudely
borne away by the ruthless Tories, but being affrighted,
they might have fled to some neighbor's dwelling, for
shelter and protection, and be thus preserved from the
horrible fate I had feared, that life I wished alone to
cheer and sustain by their love perpetuated, for their pro
tection and the purposes of revenge upon my enemies.
I thought, moreover, if the Tories had been there and
had carried them all off, they would have taken, also, the
body of Fallis, slain by my father, still lying in the sleep
of death, in that very chamber, and his rifle with my
father's, still lying by his side ; and also, would they
have plundered the house more or less of the valuable
furniture with which it abounded. But nothing, as I ex
amined by the moon's light shining through the doors
and windows, seemed to have been removed.
Rapidly as these reflections sped through my mind,
I came to the conclusion that my mother, sisters, and all
were most probably still safe. Gratitude towards God,
their preserver, sprang up in my heart, — the slightest
sentiment, or sensation of which, I had not before felt
during that terrible day and night, — and I instantly fell

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 163
npon my knees, to thank Him for His mercy ! I rose,
and began to think of the course I should then pursue.
The thought that I should be able easily to find and once
more see my adored mother and sisters, in safely, fully
softened my heart, and floods of tears gushed forth, blind
ing for a time my sight, although, I had not wept for
years, and thought, that, night, Inever again could. But,
where were they gone ? To what generous shelter had
they fled ? A moments reflection satisfied me they had
fled to the dwelling of Major Simpson, who, although
not the nearest neighbor, was with his most excellent
lady, Mrs. Esther Simpson, and entire family, the very
kindest. The distance was three miles. Closing the
doors of the house, as well as I could, after I had possessed
myself of my father's rifle, which I found J well charged
with powder and ball, and taking from the gun rack
his pouch amply supplied also. I set off by the light of
the moon to find them. 1 traveled more in a run than a
walk, and at about two o'clock in the morning, reached
Uncle Dan's cabin. Anticipating that all were asleep
at the dwelling of the white family, yet very impatient
to ascertain whether my mother and all had made good
their escape to that place, I approached the good old
African's door to ask admission. Before I reached the
entrance, I heard voices within, and my father's name
pronounced. I paused to listen. There was a conversa
tion going on between the foreman and other negroes,
reciting in part the conduct of the Tories the evening
before, in seizing and carrying off my father into the woods,
and lamenting ini feeling terms his fate, as well as my
own — saying they had learned I followed them as they
passed out of sight from the house. I did not doubt then
that this information had been derived through my moth
er, or some one who had fled with her ; and that all were
there safe,, as was afterward found to be the fact. But
again, what most particularly interested me, after I was
satisfied as to my mother's safety, was a conversation

164 LEGENDS OF THE
which ensued in the cabin, as to the manner in which
they were arranging to conduct a sort of campaign in
the morning, against the marauding and murderous To
ries, on the way or at my father's, if any of them were to
be found.
" Now boys," said Uncle Dan, " you's see dis is berry
seeist bissniss: spectin' sum on us is gwyne git kilt.
Missis say, do Daniel go and take de company long and
kill all dem Britishers and dem Tories if dey no go way
quick ; an' dis nigger gwyne 'bey missis, an' gwyne look
sharp an' peticalar, caze missis sez dat way. Tom I'se de
capting an' I'se gwyne fite in de fore funt o' de battles
fust ; an dese debil Britishers kilt dis nigger he'se gwyne
for to fall or die. Den, Tom, you's for to stan right dar
whar your capting stan', an' tell Jack, Pete, an' all dem
tudder niggers, wha's dar wid a gun, fite ! — fite ! kill all
dem d — d Britishers ! Dar now, ole ooman, ain't dat de
fust cock wha's crow for de day ? Well, dis nigger
gwyne for to go putty quick, dat's it.
" 0, Daniel, oo — oo — oo, dat's brake dis hart! 'Mem-
ber, ole man, dis nigger say, — when you's gwyne to miss
is for massa's cock hat — you's gwyne git proud, you's
gwyne git a fall, caze Doctor Killwell say so, when' he's
preach. Oo — oo ! lor' gawamarcy on dis po' nigger.
Daniel git kilt, and dis po' nigger die too. Oo — oo — oo!
lor' gawamarcy for dis po' Molly ! "
" Dar now, Molly, ole Dan no git kilt. Why, ole
ooman, missis no cry so an massa go to fite de Britishers
at de Guilfords. You nose dat. Wha for Molly cry den ?
Ole Dan no fraid dem Britishers, dats flat, he's fite 'em
all de time. Wha for dem Tories kilt ole massa John
Wood, — take him to de wood an kilt him, an den, wha
for he's take dat good boy, massa Frank ? O ! Molly,
Dan gwyne kilt two tree dem Tory for dat ! I is now.
Here Pete, you's got a gun ! Jack got a gun ? I say all
dem tudder niggers got a gun? got ambunition too? I'se
say Sam, an ole man Titus you's got no gun, you's git

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 165
two grubbin' hoe — two spade to go dar an' berry dat
Britisher; massa Wood mash he head and he lies dar
dead, now in de room. Missis say, ' Dan go for to berry
dat too.' Go' by, ole ooman, I'se gwyne now — I puts
massa big cock hat on now." In a few seconds, the brave
old African in front of Tom, Pete, Jack, and some twelve
or fourteen other young black men of the place, opened
his cabin door, and seeing me at the door — for by this
time the morning light being sufficient, he took a full
view of me, — then jumped back into the cabin and bawl
ed out, at the top of his voice — "O! Molly !— Molly !
massa Frank no kilt ! run here ! run here ! Massa Frank
cum back to dat door." " 0, gawamarcy, Daniel, wha
for you's holloo so ? " said Molly, "dar now, Daniel gwyne
git mad."
By this time, the door was thrown wide — I was seen
fully by all. Some ran one way and some ran another — all
greatly affrighted — thinking it was my ghost.
Molly cried out, " lor marey, mass Frank is done cum
back ! He ain't kilt neider."
The old man then clasped me in his powerful embrace
greatly overjoyed. Then rushing from the cabin door,
ran for his mistress's dwelling — shouting " Missis, missis,
— I'se gwyne tell missis," and away he ran shouting,
" Mass Frank cum back, an' ain't kilt neider ! Hora for
Mass Frank ! " On he ran and I right after. Still he
shouted till he reached within a few yards of the dwelling
where he was met by his mistress, who having heard his
outcry hastened and met him ; my mother and sisters
close behind her, in great consternation to know the
cause. " Uncle Dan," exclaimed his mistress, " what in the
world is the matter ? "
" Massa F^ank, massa Frank, missis, cum back, an'
ain't kilt neider."
By this time I had fully turned the corner of the meat-
bouse I had to pass before I was in view of the place

166 LEGENDS OF THE
where Mrs. Simpson met her old black man, and' I strode
up instantly to the group at the door. My mother and
sisters immediately embraced me. My mother returned
the embrace silently ; but my sisters cried out in convul
sive tones, "where is father ! O, where is father, brother ?"
0 God ! thou alone canst tell the agony of thought and
feeling that at that moment, like fiery tempests', swept
through my soul ! Not only anew, but with an intensity
of horror and anguish, greater than that even of the night
and evening before, thundering upon my heart and mind ;
notwithstanding, I saw before me in life and safety my
mother and beloved sisters, whom I had mourned for a
time as murdered, or worse than murdered !
For some moments, I was unable to articulate a word ;
nor did I speak, till, looking upon the pale and haggard
face of my beloved parent, the very impersonation of im
measurable despair, motionless on the spot where we met
without uttering a word or sheding a tear. All the sym
pathies of my nature streamed from my eyes ! — I wept
aloud. I then took my poor mother by the hand, and led
her into the dwelling ; seated her and my sisters, and
almost fell at their feet. My mother gazed on me for a
brief space of time, and then almost in a whispering tone
of voice, said :
"My son, where is your father? Did they murder
him ? or does he yet live ? "
I said, " O ! mother, my father is no more ! I saw him
die ! "
"And how did he die, Frank ? " said she.
I said, " he died like a man and a christian! "
" Did they hang or shoot him, my son ? "
" No mother, neither ; but they stript and scourged
him to death ! "
At these words my sister Rosa swooned, and fell to the
floor— Susan, poor lost and ruined Susan, just ran about
the room, screaming as one deranged. I lifted dear Rosa
and laid her upon the sofa in the room. My mother

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE.

167

moved not, neither spoke a word! The kind Mrs. Simp
son and her two daughters.; Martha and Mary, come in
and applied water &c, to restore Rosa. Still my mother
neither spoke nor moved — sitting like a monument of
unutterable grief, gazing at vacancy ! Rosa began to
breathe and presently opened her eyes. My own strength
returned, and I again felt energy of mind and strength of
limbs. I went to my mother, and bore her in my arms
to a bed in an adjoining apartment; laid her gently
down, and began to think what words I should use to
comfort her. O! what could I say ? She looked at me
for a half minute with a look of sympathy, and apparent
complacency, and, before I could say a word, said :
" Frank, my son, did you see your father die ? and did
you hear him speak ? "
I answered these questions by relating the narrative I
before have given of the dreadful scene. I repeated his
last words. — his prophecy,- and threat to Nick Simonds.
Silent she sat for some minutes ; several times fixing her
eyes upon mine, as if to fathom my thoughts and pur
poses. The first thing she said was, " Frank, my son,
what have you resolved to do ? "
" Mother, my vow is made, my purpose is fixed to ful
fill, if God spares me, the dying words of my father. I
will hunt down those villains as I would the most ferocious
beasts of prey, or the cannibal that had slain my best
friend, and broiled and eaten the core of his heart, before
my face."
She looked at me for a moment, then burst into tears —
rose from her pillow and embraced me round the neck ;
while in a voice the softest yet words the most emphatic,
she said :
"Ah ! my son, I knew you would do it ! Truly I now
see your father's blood courses in your veins. A father's
heart beats in your bosom."
"I told her, then, in full detail, how I had vowed, what

168 LEGENDS OF THE
I had vowed, and where my head was pillowed when my
words were audibly and solemnly uttered ! Again my
blessed mother embraced her son ; and after resting for
a few minutes, worn down in body and mind, on my arm,
she again reclined on the pillow from which she had
risen, and fell into a calm and most refreshing repose.
So I left her. She slept till breakfast was announced,
and all partook except Rosa.
Previously, however, and while my mother yet reposed,
my mind very naturally turned to the events of the last
twenty-four hours, and chiefly was employed in the circum
stances of my vow and the means and course to be employed
and pursued, in fulfilling of it. Never before had my
mind been exercised in reflecting much, or in a calm and
reasonable discrimination of the principles of the Whigs
upon which the war of independence then raging with
great violence and merciless fury in many colonies, par
ticularly in the East and South. I had, from its com
mencement, read with the most absorbing interest, de
scriptions as published from time to time in the few
Whig papers which reached my father. Still, to analyze
those principles, settle and determine their merits and
demerits for .myself, as a rule of personal action, I had
hitherto failed or neglected to do. My strong minded
father, I knew, understood them all, and decided that the
resistance of the British authority in the colonies was just
and right. I had seen him in his peculiar way lend all
his energies of body and mind, to give that resistance the
greatest efficiency and the most successful triumph. That
judgment and course was perfectly decisive with me.
Often I had thirsted in soul and spirit to be a man and
permitted to enter into the army and do battle in the
Whig cause. Yea, from the time I was fifteen, I began
to urge him to suffer me to enlist and enter the service
of the country. This as often as it was proposed was
peremptorily refused ; but promised I should so soon as I

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 169
became eighteen, and on the morning of the day he was
murdered by the Tories, having but the night before re
turned from the small army of Gen. Sumpter in South
Carolina, then flying before the victorious Cornwallis, he
said to me :
" Frank, do you know that you are eighteen years
old?" I answered, " I do, sir. I was of that age on {be Tues
day before last. I have just been thinking of it myself,
and had made up my mind to ask you to equip me with
everything necessary to enter the army with Gen. Mor
gan, now in South Carolina."
" Well, my son, I have determined to do so, and shall
take you along with me to fight the British and Tories
in some battle expected in a short time to take place
within or near the line of the province. I have deter
mined to set out on Monday morning — day after to-mor
row — so that you'll soon have a chance to fight a little,
as you have long desired."
My mother was present, but said nothing in objection.
So that all considered the matter as fullly settled.
" Now, I thought, I must determine for myself as to
that matter. And if I go to the army, it must be without
the introduction and guidance of my venerated father al
together. But then, as my mother had said, I had the
heart and feelings of my father stiring within me. I felt
that the army and war were the natural elements of my
nature, and most congenial with my spirit, at least, at
that time. Again, I remembered with intense satisfac
tion, the eternal war of vengeance I had declared in my
very soul against the British and Tories, particularly the
latter ; and that to execute with the greatest certainty the
vow made upon the cold heart of my dead father, the
army furnished the greatest facilities. I determined,
therefore, to set out at the time proposed by him, for that
position, notwithstanding he no more lived to bestow his

170 LEGENDS OF THE
counsels, and guide my footsteps. Yet again I remem
bered the words of Nick Simmonds and Mike Stalcup,
as they passed near where I lay concealed, and the re
ward they were to receive from Col. Ferguson for killing
my father. Oh ! their words, as they were remembered,
rolled through my heart like drops of molten lead ! Aye,
I thought, in the army and in the anticipated battle, of
which my father spoke, shortly to occur, I shall doubtless
meet and have a chance at that villainous murderer, Col.
Ferguson. Truly my soul burned for vengeance, and I
felt a panting to drink his heart's blood.
These thoughts at once confirmed the resolutions al
ready taken. In the evening I made my determination
known to my mother and sisters. My mother 6poke not
for some time ; my sisters only wept in silence. At
length my mother said :
" Yes, go, my son, go ; for I know your resolution and
purpose will bear you out conqueror. You must equip
yourself with all your father's arms and other prepara
tions for the public service ; his excellent rifle, brace of
pistols, and small sword. His fine young horse you must
take, as he is better broke to the military paiades than
yours, and will submit better to being shot from. Did
you not, Frank, in narrating the melancholy circumstan
ces attending the murder of your father say, that some of
those Tories mentioned that they had been given a re
ward by one of the British officers for destroying him?"
" " Yes, mother, two of them, as they passed near me,
going from the place where they had scourged him to
death, said, they were sure to get from Col. Ferguson two
hundred guineas for that service, and fifty had been paid
in advance."
" O, my God ! " she exclaimed, " what despicable cru
elty ! what heartless brutality ! Is this England's boasted
civilization, religion, and honor ! But, my son, this is
the remark I was about to make : You are right to hurry

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 171
to the army as quick as possible, and place yourself un
der the command and protection of the brave Gen. Mor
gan. Your father told me he, together with Col. Camp
bell and Col. Shelby, are preparing to attack Ferguson,
now posted at King's Mountain with his forces, and drive
them beyond the boundaries of North Carolina at all
events. He said, moreover, Ferguson had been ordered
to that point by Cornwallis to encourage and embolden
the Tories, induce them to take up arms and join them
selves to his command. This, he said, they were in great
numbers, doing every day ; making his encampment at
that place the general rallying pointy and from thence
traversing and marauding throughout the surrounding
country, committing murders, thefts, and every species of
cruelty. Beyond doubt, the murderers of my poor hus
band will not only return to the British there, for those
purposes, but also to get the balance of the price of your
father's blood ! "
" Those are exactly my reasons for hurrying, as I shall
Monday morning, upon this campaign^" I said,." and I
trust I shall be successful in finding them all there."
" Well, my son, go, and may God's blessing give you
the most triumphant success. For this I shall pray con
tinually. I am far from believing this, undertaking of
yours, for the mere purpose of revenge, would be justifia
ble ; or believing I ought to pray for its accomplish
ment, if your object was revenge alone ; 1 do not believe
that God; would succor you for that purpose ; dreadful as
have been the cruel provocations of those British and To
ries to yourself and family ; justifying if anything could:,
most unmitigatedi and prompt revenge. But' remember,
the spirit of revenge is not the spirit of the revolution ;
but that of patriotism and justice — God and liberty ! and
will be approved by Him. While then, you follow up
and destroy those cowardly murderers of your heroic far
ther, you are but serving the cause of your country in
the certainty of Heaven's approbation.

172 LEGENDS OF THE
" You will not strike for private wrongs alone ;
Such are for selfish passions and rash men,
But are unworthy a tyranicide.
We must forget all feelings save the one ;
We must resign all passions save our purpose ; "1
We must behold no object save our country,
And only look on death as beautiful,
So that the sacrifice ascend to Heaven
And draw down freedom on her universe."
" But, my son, we must now prepare to return home this
evening. Uncle Dan and the other men, I understand,
returned awhile ago from there, after having removed
and buried the dead Tory, and says he could discover
nothing amiss there. He brought two horses with sad
dles, &c, for Rosa and myself, and we must get two from
Mrs. Simpson for you and Susan. Henry can ride be
hind me. Susan could ride in like manner with you, but
you have your father's gun with you, and yon cannot
carry that well with one behind you."
She then went into the chamber of Mrs. Simpson where
she found my sisters ; and, having procured the horses
needed, we in a little time were ready for our return. I
had much suffering of mind, of which, however, I had
not yet spoken to my mother, whenever I thought of my
departure from home and entering the army, leaving her
and my sisters, and all exposed to the depredations of
the reckless Tories, who, now more likely than ever be
fore, would attempt their injury as they would no more
stand in fear of my father, and I should be far off and un
able to give them any protection. My suffering, pro
duced by the reflection, was of so painful a character, that
I was almost ready to give up my trip, at least, at that
time and mentioned such cause and intention to my
mother. " Fear not, my son," she said, "discharge your duty to
your country, we will endeavor trusting to providence to
take care of ourselves in your absence. Besides, I have
been thinking of taking the course our kind neighbor

WAft OF INDEPENDENCE. 173
Mrs. Simpson has taken, and get some guns and put
them in the hands of the three white hirelings and each
of the three black men, to guard us from any such at
tacks. It is my wish that you do not refrain from going
on that account."
Early on Monday morning, I set out for the army, and
traveled with what speed I could to the camp of General
Morgan, which was then on the Waxaw Bottoms, about
twenty-three miles from Kings Mountain. I reported
myself to him ; — had a personal interview and settled the
terms with him, upon which I was to be recognized as
under his command, — being those on which my father
identified himself with the public service, — to be at liberty
at all times, to be absent if I could thereby render the
greater and more efficient service in the pursuit of small
collections of British and Tories. I had fully communi
cated to him the hopes I had of finding in the service of
Ferguson, the hired murderers of my father, and he
seemed pleased at the idea of my partizan services ; es
pecially, as my plan embraced a determination to shoot
or otherwise slay Colonel Ferguson, himself, the first op
portunity. Here the writer leaves the narrative of Frank Wood,
promising to return to it again in some future pages.
"Virtue's is the only noble blood,
From whence we can derive true good ;
There surely is some guiding power,
Which rightly suffers wrong,—
Gives vice to bloom its little hour,
But virtue, late and long.
There is a fever of the spirit,
The brand of Cain's unresting doom,
L Which in the lone dark souls that bear it
Glows like the lamp in Tullius' tomb ;
Unlike that lamp, its subtle fires
Burns, blasts, consumes its cell, the heart,
i Till one, by one, hope, joy, desires
i Like dreams of shadowy smoke depart."— -Anonymusi

174 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XV.

Measures taken by Cornwallis— Battle of Kings Mountain— Death
of Col. Ferguson by the hand of Frank Wood — Bis narrative of
the battle and subsequent action.

" 0 such a day, —
" So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,
" Came not, till now, to dignify the times.
" It is held
" That valor is the chiefest virtue, and
" Most dignifies the haver ; if it be
" The man I speak of, cannot in the world
" Be singly counterpoised.
" When the English measur'd backward their own ground
In faint retire : 0 bravely came we off." — Shakspeare.
It will be remembered among the records history .gives
of the events of the war of independence in the year 1780,
that after the fatal battles of Camden, which resulted in
the utter defeat of Gen. Gates ; and at Fishing Creek,
when Gen. Sumpter, was suddenly overtaken by Col.
Tarlton, and terribly cut to pieces. Cornwallis, suppos
ing that on account of these disasters the province of
South Carolina was perfectly subdued to British author
ity, then instituted, with the purpose of making his con
quests of the Whigs doubly secure and permanent, a sys
tem of extreme severity, compelling individual as well as
general, submission to royal authority. For this purpose
he ordered that every citizen, who had at any time, taken
part with and served under the command of government
officers, and was afterwards found acting and serving
with Americans, to be forthwith hung ; and their proper
ty confiscated, or destroyed! But these rigorous and
cruel measures were not sufficient to accomplish their

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. 175
design. The truth is, they only tended for a brief space
to overawe and put down, in appearance, open resistance ;
while the cry of vengeance for every sacrifice so made,
was preparing to become more and more general — to whet
with greater earnestness of purpose the weapon of war
among the people, and exasperate them to a more deter
mined resistance to, and deeper execration of the British
government. This same detested instrument of arbitrary power and
cruelty, Cornwallis fancying thus to have made complete
his conquest of this province, began to look abroad for
further fields of triumph and cruelty. .He knew that in
North Carolina, near to the South Carolina line, and dis
persed far into the interior of the former, were foreigners
and others, calling themselves royalists, disposed to favor
the cause of the king, but whose services to that cause,
had hitherto been only of a depredatory character, mainly
to rob and steal from and stealthily to murder the de
fenceless Whigs, and their women and children ! With
the view, therefore, to bring them into a more permanent
and useful system of organization and consolidated force,
in September of that year, he ordered and detached Col.
Ferguson to the frontiers of North Carolina, for the purpose
of gathering them together, and inducing them regularly
to enlist and take up arms in the royal cause. Many of
the most profligate and abandoned repaired to his stand
ard; and fully equipped with arms and ammunition, came
under his auspices and express commands ; and, we
boldly proclaim, in some instances for promised rewards
and bribes, they committed atrocities most merciless and
dreadful, in secret abductions of innocent females, secret
assassinations, conflagrations, and open robberies, pro
voking to the madness of fury, the Whig citizens ; and
making them with scarce a single exception, run together
with whatever weapons of offence they could gather at
home or on the way ; forming themselves around the nu-

176 LEGENDS OF TBE
cleus furnished by the troops and encampment of the in
trepid Morgan.
On the 7th of October, 1780, under the command of
that general, Cols. Shelby and Campbell, they attacked
the enemy, British and Tories, commanded by Col. Fer
guson, at Kings Mountain, the post he had chosen, with
the greatest fury, and although, resisted with great deter
mination and skill on the part of the enemy, killed their
commander and three hundred of his subaltern officers
and soldiers ; took eight hundred prisoners and fifteen
hundred stands of arms, together with a considerable
amount of ammunition.
But who killed Ferguson ? Often, indeed, it is almost
universally very difficult, in any thing like a general bat
tle to ascertain the individual, by whose successful shot,
any particular enemy of the opposing conjbatants ha6
been brought down. But, the recollection of the fact
that there was one who went to the spot with the fixed
determination to revenge his father's recent cruel death,
procured by Ferguson, through the reward given to his
assassins, — one who was there solemnly resolved to rush
into the thickest of the fight, and seek every possible op
portunity, and employ every possible means to kill him
there and on that very occasion, — the presumption grows
strong that that person accomplished the deed. But
when, superadded to all this, is that of the positive testi
mony of that very one, who was never known to lie, ac
companied with a detail of facts and circumstances, cor
roborated by the general histories of the battle, declaring
in the most positive terms, that it was his rifle ball, that
pierced the heart of that instigator of his father's death ;
the proof is almost conclusive, that the cause of the coun
try, and of liberty is indebted to our brave young soldier,
Frank Wood, for destroying that vile, corrupt, and cor
rupting minion of tyranny ; and giving, most probably,
success in this very decisive engagement, to the side of
the Whigs.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 177
" 0, sir," he was often heard to say — when many years
after this glorious victory, narrating this part of his ad
venturous life, with big manly tears of triumph rolling
down fhis cheeks — " when I saw, at my faithful rifle's
crack, that man, who was the prime assassin of my noble
father, tumble from his charger which he rode in front of
his retreating troops, pouring from his polluted lips the
bitterest curses and blasphemies against the cowardly
soldiers, and particularly the sculking Tories, bite the
dust in the last agony of death, a weight I had often felt,
too intolerable to bear, seemed to pass from my heart,
and joy for the first time after I had heard my father's
dying declaration at the bloody tree, sprang up into my
soul. Nor was Ferguson the only one of that father's
murderers, that tasted, that day, the swift vengeance of
his son ; visiting on their heads the punishment due to
their crimes. As I had anticipated and ardently desired,
they were .all :there, — Simonds, Stalcup, Bettis, Ernest,
Grissitt, Garner, Nevin, Stodard, Patty, Jeeter, Glutson.
The three first I know I shot down and believe killed, a6
I never heard of them more. Ernest, Grissitt, Garner,
Stodard and Jeeter, I never saw till the day after the bat
tle, and found them in the barracks among the prisoners
taken. Grissitt, Garner and Stodard died at Salsbury
while prisoners of war. Ernest and Jeeter survived,
were exchanged and liberated. At Glutson I also took
deliberate aim during the fight at the mountain, but be
lieve he got only a slight flesh wound ; he got off some
way from the field soon after, and I never heard what be
came of him.
" When in the morning, I saw those of the murderers
of my father whom I have named, taken prisoners, I was
made to reflect seriously what plan I should fix to wreak
upon them my recorded vengeance. Two of them were
of the three that presewted their guns at me, and threat
ened to shoot me down, wh/enjl was about to come near
12

178 LEGENDS OF THE
to those bearing my father from the house out into the
woods. They knew me, and seemed anxious to hide by
rushing into the thickest of the crowds of prisoners, from
my view. I thought of the consequences, if I there made
them feel the just consequences of their crimes, and put
them to instant death ; but, although I then knew but
little of the rules of war and the practice of civilized na
tions, in regard to captive enemies — a moment's reflection
impressed me strongly with the conviction, that to take
advantage for any cause of the condition of a prisoner,
and murder him, would not only be savage, cruel, and
inhuman ; but to make myself the object of the scorn of
all brave men, and despicably criminal.
"On that day, in a conversation with Col. Shelby, rela
ting to him the murder of my father, that five of them
were among the prisoners, together with the thoughts for
a moment, I had indulged, to shoot them there in the
barracks-; also, what was my conclusion upon reflection-
he applauded that conclusion, and said if 1 had been rash
enough to have assailed them there I should have been
immediately arrested, tried, and executed for the offence.
" It was not many days, however, before my good rifle
was again brought into the exercise of a little more of
sharp shooting. The brave Gen. Sumpter, notwithstand
ing he had been badly defeated at Fishing Creek, by Col.
Tarlton, gathered a handsome number of volunteers, and
continued to harrass the enemy very seriously ; and thus
became the object of many plans laid for his destruction.
They all failed, however. During that time, with the
permission of Gen. Morgan, I joined his volunteer corps.
We were encamped . in the early part of November, on
Broad River, near Fishdam Ferry. Many Tories were
also joined to the command of a Major Wemys. They
attacked us there and the British and Tories were sadly
disappointed and defeated. Sumpter and his brave vol
unteers fought them like men ; killed a considerable

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 179
number, and took their commander prisoner. That same
faithful old gun with which my, father so often brought
down the bounding buck, the scu'lking Tory and savage,
here also performed its accustomed work, and two Tories
with an English ensign, were made to feel its deadly
touches, during the fight.
" Nor did that rifle play an idle part when on the 20th
of the same month Col. Tarlton, who with his veteran
troop of horse and some Tory recruits, assailed us at
Blackstocks. We beat them back with considerable loss
of British and Tories. There I had a sort of personal in
terview with two Tories, Samuel Coulson, brother of Col.
Coulson, of Anson county, and big Bill Harpe. The first
I looked at very hard, and gave him questions so sharply,
by way of the fashionable courtesies of the day, he forgot
he was one of his majesty's horsemen, slid or quickly
tumbled from his charger, and never again rendered his
most gracious majesty further service of pillage, plunder
and rapine. With big Bill Harpe also I had a word.
But we did not talk very understandingly ; for he was in
too great haste to run off with his redoubtable Col. (Tarl
ton). It would'nt do, though. My messenger, instead
of reaching his head or heart, only glanced his posteriors,
to my own and my family's everlasting grief and dis
grace. For not long after that he most fearfully revenged
himself upon me and upon all of us, by stealing and car
rying off my pretty sister Susan. She was never recov
ered. " But I must not enter into a detail of this most melan
choly tale now — by far the most hapless and trying of all
my life, — the murder of my father cannot be excepted.
Aias! for the poor girl. Some thousands of miles my
brother and myself traveled in search of her, and never
found nor heard the least trace or trait of her for fifteen
months after she was carried off; and then we only heard
that the two Harpes, big Bill and his cousin Josh, were,

180 LEGENDS OF THE
together with three Indians, seen taking off two young
girls answering the description of Susan, and Maria Da
vidson, daughter of Col. John Davidson, stolen about the
same time. They were seen by two men hunting at the
time, just on the east side of the great Clinch Mountain!
These hunters described the girls and the Harpes very ex
actly. They said they appeared to be traveling westward
with great speed ; the girls mounted on horses and tied
to the saddles they rode.
" It has often been a subject of curious speculation in
my mind, why that horrible villain, Bill Harpe, should
have been permitted to escape, or had been defended by
Providence, which you please, from my true aim and
shot, and left to live for years after, the bloodiest robber
and murderer that ever lived in America ; while so many
comparatively harmless and innocent Tories and British
scarcely ever failed to fall at the crack of my rifle. But
it's too deep for me. I cannot fathom it. So it is, how
ever. Big Bill and Josh Harpe made out to live for
years, killing and slaying all that came within their
power, men, women and children, white and black. 0,
I have often thought it was a thousand pities that that
rascal, big Bill, ever got away from Blackstock's, when
we fought with Tarlton. He escaped as I tell you, and 1
don't know how. But the worst of it is, although this
was not the last opportunity I had at that vile Tory, and
had a fair shot at him, I could not bring him any way!
My trusty rifle, that never failed me at any other time,
seemed to have a spell, as they call it, whenever 'pointed
at that Scotch rascal.
" On three occasions I saw him after that, and twice we
met in battle. He was, as you know, belonging to Tarl-
ton's command, and I with Gen. Morgan. At the battle
of the Cowpens I saw him, and I am sure he saw me.
But he managed to keep out of my way till we killed one
hundred 'and took prisoners to the number of five hund-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 181
red. British and Tories. But again big Bill got off with
the retreat of Tarlton.
"We managed that fight well, I tell you. For al
though the enemy overrated us in numbers and experi
ence, being all except about three hundred Tories, veteran
British troops. Old Morgan drove them back, and had
only twelve men killed and sixty wounded. It was not
long after this battle at the Oowpens that Cornwallis
pushed with all vengeance to overtake Gen. Morgan ; de
termined, I suppose, totally to destroy him and his entire
forces. The latter, fully aware of the superiority of the
pursuing enemy, hurried us on, you may be sure, till we
were all almost broke down with fatigue when we got to
the fords of the Catawba where we crossed in safety. At
these fords the British expected to overtake and attack
us ; but when they got there we had been over, baggage
and all, full two hours. Night was approaching, and the
redoubtable Lord Cornwallis indulging almost certain as
surance he would overtake his adversary with ease in the
morning, halted and encamped."
After a short pause by this remarkable man in his nar
rative, during which he maintained, without the slightest
change throughout, a serious countenance, alternated oc
casionally by an expression of impassioned sentiments of
piety and gratitude, when his heavy lowering brow re
covered; relaxing almost into a smile, and his usually
fierce, small, keen blue eyes, bathed in a flood of tears,
looked forth in unwonted gentleness for minutes — he then
said, seeming suddenly aroused from a deep revery :
" Now I am come to a point in this here story which
you'll hardly look for from me; but it's in me, and I
now and long have believed the same way. Here's a
clear instance in which God Almighty stretched forth his
hand and saved. Morgan's army. You see there's Corn
wallis with his powerful army of victorious veterans on
one side of the river, and Morgan with his small and ra-

182 LEGENDS OF THE
tber overworn command on the other. The former ar
dently expecting early in the morning to pass over and
easily overwhelm the entire forces of the latter in a mo
ment after overtaking him. But low and behold, the
Heavens poured down the rain in unceasing torrents, all
that night, and increased the river to such height and
might, that when morning came the proud Britons dared
not attempt to pass it for two days !
" This was the first time. The second was at the Yad
kin. Lord Cornwallis, after crossing the Catawba, started
after us again with might and main ; and at the river
Yadkin again encamped for the night. Here again the
rains came down in floods, raised the river and compelled
him to seek its passage much higher up the stream. 0, 1
believe, my friend," he said, " that this was another in
stance in which Heaven acknowledged the justice of the
American cause, in giving this protection to our little
army. "But still I must mention another. GeD. Green also,
at another time, was hotly pursued by Cornwallis ; anx
ious to overtake him and briDg him to a battle before he
got into Virginia. Gen. Green had but just crossed the
Dan River, when his lordship reached it in pursuit. His
van attacked our rear just as it was crossing it, and, firing
across, killed our brave Col. John Davidson, who com
manded our rear, and was as sound a Whig and brave an
officer and soldier as ever breathed in the old North
State. Too late, a third time. In great mortification and
alarm at these adverse providences, he turned again south
ward, and established himself at Hillsboro'. Just about
this time there took place rather a curious affair in be
half of our cause. Cornwallis, you know, sent Tarlton into
North Carolina and among the royalists to encourage
them to enlist. Gen. Green detached some militia troops
and sent them under the command of Col. Lee to meet
and thwart Col. Tarlton as much as possible. I was with

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 183
Lee. Well, we, marching out in the direction of the
place where Tarlton was stationed, and operating, were
suddenly surprised by the approach of three hundred and
fifty Tories or royalists, supposing that we constituted
Tarlton's forces, crying " long live the king," and shout
ing loud that they were his loyal subjects, in order
to make themselves known and be received into the Brit
ish service. But our militia, not liking the words nor
the signs given, fell upon them with great fury, killed
the most of them in a few minutes, and made the balance
prisoners of war. I confess that even on that occasion,
Frank Wood did not fail to remember his father's proph
ecy, nor his own solemn vow, taken upon that father's
cold and lifeless bosom. For he sent them a special mes
sage or two, by way of remembrance, that both were still
unrevoked. 0 no! no, — not yet — not yet. I saw and
showed marked attention to Jeeter and Glutson, two that
officiated assiduously at my beloved parent's martyrdom ;
and they went the way of all flesh ! I don't know
whether Bill or Josh Harpe were there or not. They
were not among the slain, as I looked ; and I don't be
lieve they were with the prisoners, as I heard in a little
time after, they both had gone to the Cherokee nation.
Nor was it more than six months, before they came into
the settlements with some Indians and stole the two poor
girls, and were seen crossing Clinch Mountain to the
wilderness, as I told you."
"Oh 1 when the heart has once been riven,
The wound will firmly close no more ;
Let memory's searching probe be driven
It bleeds and quivers lreshly sore." — Eliza Cooke.

But

"The gloomiest soul is not all gloom,
The sadest heart is not all sadness ;
And sweetly o'er the darkest gloom,
There shines some lingering rays of gladness." — Hemans.

184 .LEGENDS OF THE
" Hope leads the child to plant the flower, the man to sow the seed ;
Nor, leaves fulfillment to her hour, but prompts again to deed ;
And ere upon the old man's dust, the grass is seen to wave,
We look through falling tears to trust Hope's sunshine on the grave.
0 no ! it is no flattering lure, — no fancy weak, or fond; —
When hope would bid us rest secure in better life beyond.
Nor loss, nor shame, nor grief, nor sin, her promise, may gainsay,
The voice Divine hath spoke within, apd God did ne'er betray. —
Sarah F. Adams.
Then, what if memory's probe he driven
« Through the heart's core, steeped in sorrow ?
The soul by faith paints the rain-bow of Heaven,
And humbly trusts in hopes of to-morrow. —
Thos. M. Smith.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 185

CHAPTER XVI,

Lord Cornwallis encamped at Hillsboro' — Marauding parties of
British and Tories sent out to ravage and plunder the inhabitants
— Anecdote of Maj. Hintbn, in his attempt to rob Mrs. Slocum —
Falls into a dry well in her cellar — A love adventure of his lord
ship with Maria Davidson — His utter overthrow — Ihe Toryism
and base treachery of the Kev. Mr. James Frazier toward his wife
and flight to and with the British army, after embezzling his
wife's, fine estate — The hypocrite's picture.

" 0, woman's love is not as man's —
He turns aside awhile
To cheer ambition's thorny road,
With woman's sunny smile ;
But she embarks her all in love,
Her life is on the throw —
She wins, 'tis bliss supreme ! — she fails ! —
Unutterable woe ! " — E. M. Sidney.
Lobd Coenwallis, it will be remembered, after two
successive failures to overtake and bring the troops under
Gen. Morgan to an engagement as they were retreating
across the province toward Virginia, and afterwards the
command of Gen. Green — and being prevented by the re
markable interpositions of Providence, above adverted to,
greatly mortified and chagrined, returned to Hillsboro',
and there encamped with the main body of his army.
He continued, however, to send forth in every direction,
especially into the most wealthy neighborhoods and vil
lages of the province, marauding parties of British and
Tories, to plunder and sometimes, perpetrate the most
wanton cruelties and rapine, upon the Whigs. These
pillagers not only took forcibly whatever cattle and horses
they deemed proper or of use, but were diligent in hunt
ing out and forcibly taking from the families every article

186 LEGENDS OF THE
of plate, or other valuables or transportables ; frequently
destroying great quantities of household and kitchen
furniture, too weighty and bulky to bear off, and for which
they could have no use. Many hundreds of instances of
the kind occurred. One or two we will mention.
Capt. John Slocum, lived at about the distance of fif
teen miles from Hillsboro'. While he was upon a tour
in the American service in the army of Gen. Green, com
manding a company of volunteers, one of these maraud
ing companies of British, from their camp at that town,
commanded by one Capt. Hinton, of the cavalry, with
about thirty men stopped at his house, and in a most threat
ening and insolent manner entered and demanded of
Mrs. Slocum her keys, and all the money and plate she
had in her possession. She told him she had but little
money, only £3 10s., she believed, and pointed him to
her escretoire already unlocked, containing her store. As
to plate she had none except a small portion hid where
he might, if he could, find it. With many blasphemous
and bitter curses he bid her bring it to him, instantly;
threatening personal injury and abuse, if she did not pro
duce it. She told him it was in the cellar. The brave
captain, quite elated with success, and with the prospect
of possessing himself so speedily of the rich booty, at
tempted a descent into the cellar himself, without any
light, into a place entirely dark. When he entered,
he called back to the lady to bring a candle. Quickly
she lighted the candle ; descended and pointed to the
corner in which she told him the plate was deposited.
Onward he hastened, anxious to grasp his prize, and in a
few seconds pitched head-foremost into a dry well about
twenty feet deep, dug for the purpose of draining and
drying the cellar. Down he went and for some minutes
was neither heard to groan or even breathe. Mrs. Slocum
listened with intense interest, and was unable to judge
whether he had broken his neck, or was only stunned and
made insensible by the fall, for a time. She still listen-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 187
ed, and was upon the point of making her way back into
her chamber, when she heard a low feeble groan, followed
by indistinct winnings, like those of a small puppy. Slow
ly still she ascended, and walked into the yard, where,
when the redoubtable captain descended into the cellar,
she had seen some of his men. She saw them all now in
a meadow near the stables, chasing and endeavoring to
catch several fine young horses at pasture, that were
snorting and careering in defiant speed, back and forth
across the field. She gave the alarm, however, and all
run to the house in great appearance of fright ; rushed
down into the cellar, dark as it again was, bawling and
shouting for their captain. By this time he had revived
sufficiently, and bawled and shouted for help, as loudly
as any of them. A ladder was quickly brought from the
hay-mow, let down into the well, and slowly and cau
tiously the gallant captain ascended to terra firma again;
calling out to be carried above as speedily as possible.
Up he came, and brought to the light, exhibited, perhaps,
the most perfect spectacle of slime, mud, and blood, cov
ering and besmearing him from head to foot. His pro
boscis, coming foremost in the fall, in contact with some
more solid body at the bottom of the well, poured forth
a gory stream, forming its due proportion of the muck
and mire with which his laces, tuckers, and frilled ruf
fles, were so horribly besmeared. His dallying rapier
dangling and gracefully swinging at his side, bearing un
mistakable evidence of his identity with his most gracious
majesty's service. So discomfltted, however, was this
gallant cockney, with the reception he had met with in
entering the quiet abode of the toads and cockroaches at
the bottom of the well, uninvited ; with the rather dish
eveled appearance of his .courtly attire, in the presence
of the lady and her pretty daughters, he shouted loud and
long : " To horse — to horse," and soon, with his cavalcade,
disappeared ; bearing off no other trophy of beauty or
booty, than the three pound ten, and a swelled red nose.

188 LEGENDS OF THE
It is not known, however, whether the captain or any
of his subordinates, after reaching head-quarters, hinted
at, much less recounted, the incidents of this adventurous
day ; except on one occasion, Jack Tibbs, when a little
severely reproved for some carelessness or unskillfulness
in the execution of his captain's order to do something,
a little slyly and crustily responded, " I have never yet
shown so little sense, as to jump into a dry well, to tilt
with a frog for silver plate."
Instances of like character of British rapacity might be
here multiplied. But for the present we forbear, except
as follows :
That portion of North Carolina, which is now called
Forsythe county, was originally the county and posses
sions of the Creek Indians, the most cruel, savage, and
warlike of any known tribe. In the summer of 1700,
Martin Hauser, and his associates, emigrated from Penn
sylvania, and penetrated into the interior of North Caro
lina, farther than civilization had then extended, and af
ter various successful battles with the Indians, they took
possession of the country. In order to have their little
band united, and capable of resisting the attacks of the
savages, they settled down together and built the town of
Bethany, or as it is better known and commonly called
Hausertown. This town is in Forsythe county, and in
full view of the Pilot Mountain, or Mount Arrarat, from
the north-west, and the Samartown mountains from the
north-east. The inhabitants of it were a bold and hardy
race, distinguished for their love of freedom and indepen
dence ; and when the revolutionary war commenced, they
sided with the patriots of the country, and espoused their
cause with the warmest ardor.
Ih the year 1776, the country around had become pop
ulated and the descendants of Martin Hauser, had greatly
multiplied, insomuch, that the town then numbered some
five hundred inhabitants.
" These were the times that tried men's souls." It may

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 189
now be said, that those that stood firm to their country,
deserve the love and thanks of every man and woman
who enjoys the results of the contests which took place
between the Whigs or patriots, and the Tories or roy
alists. When Gen. Cornwallis, commander-in-chief of the Bri
tish army, marched from Chester, N. C, through the in
terior of the country to Little York, in Virginia, in order
to dispirit and punish the Whigs, he marked the progress
of his course with every sort of cruelty, blood-shed, con
flagration and destruction of their persons and property.
While -he was thus treating the Whigs, his conduct
was very different to the Tories — their persons and pro
perty were left untouched, regarded as sacred, every pro-
¦tection he could afford was furnished them, and arms and
ammunition (which in the then existing state of the coun
try was difficult to be had,) was distributed in the amplest
manner. When he come to the Shallow Ford, oh the
Yadkin, not far from where Daniel Boone was born, and
about nine miles from Hausertown, instead of pursuing
the direct route and following the great thouroughfare on
the line of his march, he turned his course to the left and
marched his whole army a circuitous road, and fifteen or
twenty miles out of his way to pay an unwelcome and
unsolicited visit to the little Whig village of Hausertown.
As providence Would have it, when his best platoon
entered the lower end of the town, it commenced raining,
and continued raining very fast during bis entire stay,
which was more than a day and night. The army div
ided, the one half encamping upon the right, the other
on the left of the town ; and his cannon was left in the cen
tre under guard. Such of the men of the town, as had not
joined the American army, sought' the country for safety,
leaving their wives and children in their houses as a sort of
protection to them, and under the supposed protection of
the chivalry and gallantry of the army, which they be
lieved would not stop,- but pass directly on. Their arri-

190 LEGENDS OF THE
val was so wholly unexpected and unlooked for, that the
inhabitants had no opportunity, whatever, to make pre
paration for the removal of their families and property.
During the stay of the army the soldiers took and de
stroyed every vestige of personal property in the town ;
all the horses, cattle, hogs, corn, hay, household and
kitchen furniture, provisions, clothes, poultry, chickens,
geese — all except one old gander, which afterward re
ceived the name of the " crazy army gander." He was
one of a large flock and saved his life in this way:
When the army approached, this flock arose in the air
and flew down the street, and, in attempting to fly to the
creek, were all knocked down and killed, except him ; he
escaped into a large swamp below. After the army left,
this gander lived many years, but would never again as
sociate with other geese. He spent his time solitary and
alone, passing up and down the streets day and night,
making sad, lamenting and mournful cries, and hence his
name " crazy army gander."
While the soldiers were rumaging and hunting for
something valuable to steal or destroy, they found in the
cellars whiskey, brandy, and other liquors — of which the
whole army officers partook and all got drunk ; and even
the guard, which had been placed around the cannon
became intoxicated. This circumstance has been fre
quently detailed by the older inhabitants with a sigh of
regret, that they could not anticipate the disabled condi
tion of the army, collect a small force, and, Marion-like,
rush upon them in the darkness of night and take the
whole army, Cornwallis and all.
While things were in this state, George Hauser, grand
son of Martin Hauser, (who was a captain in the Amer
ican army and an officer of different grades in the many
expeditions of the Whigs against Tories and Indians un
connected with any Continental or State armament) came
reconnoitering about the town. He was a large athletic
man, seated on a fine horse, provided with a pair of

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 191
horseman's pistols on his saddle before him and his sword
by his side. Concern for the safety of his wife and
child caused him to go with all the speed of his horse,
impulsively to his own house, where, before he was
scarcely down from his saddle, he was surrounded by
soldiers, taken a prisoner, and his hands bound behind him,
and kept all that night by a strict guard, unprotected
from a constantly drenching rain. The General kept his
head-quarters at Peter Hauser's house, (the cousin of
George) and the situation of George by some means becom
ing-known to Peter's wife, in the morniDg when the Gener
al was about going to his breakfast, she took occasion to
meet him, and implored his release on bended knees in
the most earnest and impassioned appeals. The General
granted the request of the lady, thus made, and ordered his
release, with the privilege of passing where he pleased.
After the army left, nothing that was useful or that
could be carried off remained. The household furniture,
ploughs, wagons, &c, were cut up, piled in the streets
and burned, and nothing but the incessant rain saved the
whole town from total destruction.
The army of Cornwallis marched thence through Old
Town, Salem, &c, to Guildford Court House. The peo
ple of Old Town and Salem, being Tories generally, ex
perienced very different treatment from the British
Army. Couriers were sent in advance to notify them of
its approach. The citizens were fully protected in their
persons and property, and they were fully compensated
for whatever the soldiers received.
During the continuance of the British general's stay
with his army at Hillsboro', and immediately upon his
arrival at the place, he renewed his acquaintance with
the Rev. Mr. James Frazier, who as we have said he had
seen and known in Europe, — was introduced to Mrs. Fra
zier and the Misses Mary C. Brame and her sister Amy
Brame, daughters of the venerable Melchesidec Brame,

192 LEGENDS OF THE
of Caroline, Virginia, and Miss Maria Davidson, daught
er of Col. John Davidson, killed at Dan River by the
British. These ladies were then on a visit to Mrs. Fra
zier ; the two Miss Brames having fled to Hillsboro', to
escape the vile and villainous rapine then being perpe
trated in the southern counties of Virginia, by the traitor
Benedict Arnold, Col. Tarlton, Gen. Phillips, and the
British troops,— under their command, daughters of the
"first families" were often during this period, made
the especial objects of their most brutal practices and hor
rible assaults.
To these ladies his lordship manifested many polite
courtesies and seemed particularly desirous to treat with
marked attention the young and accomplished daughter
of Col. Davidson, who was but about one month before
in Gen. Nat. Green's command, killed when retreating
before Cornwallis. Miss Davidson and her widowed moth
er deeply mourned, dressed in the sable habiliments of
heart-felt sorrow, and their loss. Maria could scarcely
ever look at the General without weeping. Still however,
his lordship from motives of sympathy, it may be, know
ing her great loss and consequent sorrow, or from motives
less creditable and disinterested, sought by every means
respectful and on every occasion practicable, to manifest
his attention ; which, though productive of much embar
rassment of mind to the sensitive young lady, was never
theless, under the sentiment of modesty, and the dictates
of a good mind received with constrained politeness ; un
til on one occasion, while she continued her visit at Hills
boro', and was walking in company with Mrs. Frazier
and the two young Virginia ladies, upon a fishing excur
sion, accompanied by his lordship, and several of his
young subaltern officers, Col. Burton, Maj. Tarlton and
one or two others, — she and the General being at a little
distance from the others, in the rear. In very direct
terms he declared his passion for her, and attempted to

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1^3
place his arm around her beautiful person, and press with
his her ruby lips. ,
Instantly the indignity was repelled with the greatest
promptitude, with a look of , insuperable scorn at which
his Jring might well have tremble*}, ; filing her eyes stead
fastly on his, yet shrinking a pace or two from his touch,
she said, "My lord, I am, it is true, the orphan daughter
of Col, John Davidson, , slain through your instrumen
tality, in the army of Gen. Qreen ; yet acting under the
behest I suppose of your duty, : to your piaster, the king,
and the .sanctions of honorable war ; but know you not
that to those sanctions, and, the force yon here command,
there are limits, you dare not p,Ty& cannot transcend or
overleap, only, in the use of brute .force such .as we learn
your traitor Benedict . Arnold, $n4 bloody Col, Tarlton,
are now practicing anjong the, deifenceless maidens of
Virginia ? To that alternative you are now bowever,
come, and defiefi by Col. Davidson's orphan daughter and
with the like unconquerable spirit that stired him to the
resistance of British oppression ! "
His lordship blenching from the majesty of her defiant
gaze, and; glancing his eyes Up and down he,r handsome
and' fully developed person, q@,4f to determine its piower
and capability before a farther encounter ; and as if to
asqertajin whether it, truly corresponded with the dignity
and heroism of. ber mind, spoke not for a moment ; then
6,aid, with a slight effort at facetiousness, vpbile his whole
countenance indicated anything else hut pleasurable sen
sations. , " Well, indeed it seems to me Miss, these western
shores produce nothing but hett^ and heroines : and
well may his majesty's ministry and Parliament begin to
doubt the conquest of such a country of rebels."
Then, in rapi<J steps he passed .on, leaving the invinci
ble heroine to,, meditate undisturbed upon the triumph.
she had achieved^ -and- make hesr way as shermight in folloy?-
13

194 LEGENDS OF THE
ing her friends. These Cornwallis quickly overtook with a
degree of embarrassment, covered by a sort of forced pleas
antry of manner, he responded to the enquiries of Mrs.
Frazier for Miss Davidson, by saying, he left her in a deep
study and meditation, in which she did not wish to be
disturbed, and having just thought of an important call
for his presence at his cantonment bid them a pleasant
evening, and passed hastily on in the direction of his
quarters. Soon Miss D. overtook -her friends. They rallied -her
upon the Sudden loss of her gallant, expressed sympathy
&c. She blushed very much, and, from the appearance
of her eyes,, seemed to have been weeping a little. Yet
she passed ofT the playfulness of the company with all
proper, reserve, betraying in neither word or act, the
scene that had occurred between her and the lord com
mandant of his majesty's forces in Hillsboro5. The inci
dent however, whatever impression it made on the dis
creet Mrs. Frazier and the others, did not escape the
keen penetration and inquisitive mind of Miss Mary
Brame. After their return to the parson's, she sought
the earliest opportunity to mention it to her cousin, and
express some apprehensions that in some way the pretty
Carolina . lady, had given stich a prompt repulse to the
besieging general, that he would not be likely shortly to
renew his attack, uor again come within gunshot of that
fortress. " We shall, therefore," she said, "be deprived
in future of his grace's visits."
" Ah now, cousin Mary," said Mrs. Frazier, " that is
just like yOu! ' Experience, war, nor anything else has
made you forget your old habits of irony and sarcasm.
Taking your irony as you I know mean it, I am led to
apprehend something serious occurred. Did his lordship
offer any indignity to poor Maria i I shall regret it very
much if he did. She is a truly an excellent child, of the
noblest and most generous nature. She has lived with

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 195
us more than three years and was always as dear to me
as my sister; but now since she has lost- her noble father,
and is an orphan, she is doubly endeared to us."
" O, indeed, I do not know, madam, what occured' be
tween them," said Miss Brame," but from the looks of
both, and the evident, embarrassment of^his lordship,
when he came up to us and left us, I thought it was all
quite odd enough."
" Well," said Mrs. Frazier, " I will call Maria and ask
her about it." , ,
She called Maria, who immediately entered, anticipa
ting the object,. and blushing at, the thought that it would
be her duty to Speak with the fullest candor to her be
loved friend. ¦, > , .
"Well, my dear girl," said Mrs. Frazier, "cousin
Mary thinks something very serious has taken place be
tween you and his lordship, and he will not be likely to
visit us again shortly, on account of what happened."
Maria, then, with all the artlessness of a child, narrated
every particular, as we have given them; adding only
that she had previously made up her mind to treat his
lordship with all reasonable politeness at a distance.
" But," she continued, " when he put his hands upon me
and sought to bestow his caresses, I felt the insult, and
spurned his approaches, as I have said."
"Right — right— served him right, dear Maria," said
Mary Brame, "and I heartily approve and honor the
spirit with which you sent the presumptuous lordling
adrift! Ah! now, cousin Happy, I am able to answer
the question you asked me the other day. Why was it,
you asked, that all the Virginia ladies fled like an af
frighted flock of young, wild turkies whenever any of the
British, such as Arnold or Tarlton entered the State;
while those of North Carolina flew not at all ? The whole
thing is now explained to me in the good sense and spirit,
fortitude and womanly firmness, with which this dear girl
has met and foiled this lordly Englishman."

196 LEGENDS OF THE
" Indeed, it may be so, cousin," said Mrs. Frazier,
" and I shall myself prize the dear child after this more
than ever. I am sure my husband will also, when I shall
tell him of it." " Who with heart and eyes
Could walk where liberty had been, nor see
The shining footprints of her deity ?
Nor feel those God-like breathings in the air,
Which mutely told her spirit had been there ? " — Mopre.
Early on the following morning, which, bowever, was
the first opportunity the' lady had after the events of the
fishing excursion, and the insult of his lordship offered to
Miss DavidsOn, the reverend gentleman her husband,
having remained nearly all night at the marquee of the
fore he had been in the habit of doings Mrs. Frazier re-
Oommander of the British forces, as for some weeks be-
Counted to him the conduct of Cornwallis, and the prompt
yet lady-like manner in which Maria had met 'and re
pulsed his overtures and attempted familiarities. She
declared her increased admiration and affection for the
sweet girl ; her determination, so long as she remained
at her house, and under her protection, to afford her, to
the fullest extent, that protection; and declared her deep
est regret that his lordship should have so far forgotten
and so returned the courtesies and very respectful atten
tions with which she herself and Mr. Frazier had invari-
bly treated him as a visitor and guest, and this notwith
standing they saw in hini nothing but the enemy of their
country, employed and sworn in his majesty's service, to
crush and destroy the liberties of the people : they be
lieving that that state of things ought not to restrict his
claims to the hospitalities of their domestic circle. But
this she could not in future do, as he had ventured to«et
so light an estimate upon them.
"Indeed, and upon my faith, Mrs. Frazier," said his
reverence, '" you are quite severe upon his lordship this
morning ; and permit me to isay to you, quite too much

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 197
so. Why, madam, do you not know, that a great fondess
for the ladies^ and the performance of feats of conquest
and gallantry among them are part and parcel of a brave
British officer's excellencies and highest boasts ? Really,
Happy, you would not dd among the ladies of quality
ahd fashion in .London and Edinborough ; for the most
fastidious and prudish among them would not make half
so much ado about it, if his lordship had pressed his
amour to a far more delightful and exstatic extent with
the pretty little country girl ! "
To these very strange expressions Mrs. Frazier made
no response for several minutes. But fixing her eyes
upon her husband with an expression of amazement and
anguish of soul, she stood puzzled to determine what to
say, or how, properly, to resent and show her scorn and
Gontempt for the minister of the gospel who thus flippantly,
il npt mendaciously, could utter them. ¦ At length she
said :
" O, my God ! can it1 be possible that such sentiments
as these- are, entertained and declared by my own hus
band ? " and burst into a flood of tears. Then catching
her little boy, about two years old, in her arms, the pledge
of their union, who had clambered to his mother's knees,
was about to retire from her chamber, when in a some
what boisterous and peevish tone of voice and gestieula*
tion,. he said :
r " It is unnecessary, madam, thus to fret and fume
against Lord Cornwallis, his gracious majesty's com
mander-in-chief in both the Carolinas and Virginia, as all
you can say or do will neither punish or even reprove the
improprieties of which you charge him ; which it is most
likely he attempted upon the country lass! Indeed, if
she really entertains the dislike she expresses for the no
ble lord, she and you, and all of us, ought to be thankful
to him that he has not before now sent a sergeant and his
guard to conduct .the young woman to his quarters, to
cheer and console hina for the numerous loves and de-

198 LEGENDS OF THE
lights he left in coming to America ! But, you and she
may have no further trouble on the subject, as his lord
ship informed me last night, he should in a few days,
march his army from Hillsboro', and perhaps- to "Vir
ginia, where joining with the brave Arnold, Tarlton and
Phillips, he will make an easy conquest of the rebels
there also."
Suddenly she turned, upon him, and with a look that
told of a bursting heart, her eyes no longer dimmed with
tears, but blazing with indignation, said :
" Sir, this language, and these sentiments were not an
ticipated from you ! They certainly stamp with dissimu
lation and falsehood declarations, years ago made to me
and to others ; and to such I now forever respond, they
can never find the least approval in my mind or heart]
Your noble lord, as you call him, may indeed march his
powerful army to my beloved native province ; may in
deed triumph there for a season, as he has done in North
and South Carolina ; but mark what I say, the day is not
far distant when those rebels, as you dare to call them,
may make him rue in bitterness and anguish that he ever
left his numerous loves and delights, to battle against the
liberty of America ! Aye, and if it may please his
friend, the Rev. Parson Frazier, to do so, he can commu
nicate to his noble lord what his wife, Mrs. Happy Fra
zier predicts, and most trustfully prays and believes, will
be fulfilled." With these remarks she left her chamber
with her infant in her arms, and saw him no more till the
morning of the second day afterwards.
On the morning of that second day, she had risen early
from her couch, leaving him in bed, to set about her
household affairs, supposing him to be asleep, as most
probably he was ; willing that he should indulge a morn
ing's nap as it was past midnight before he had returned
from Oornwallis's camp, where he had spent most of his
days and nights since his lordship had made Hillsboro'
his head-quarters. But in passing from her bed to the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 199
bureau on which she had placed her own apparel the
evening before, she came in contact with the chair on
which he had hung his when preparing for bed during
the night, which with his coat and all fell to the floor,
and from his pocket two letters and another paper drop
ped upon the floor before her. These she picked up and
saw that the letters were directed to her husband — " Rev.
Mr. James Frazier," in a female hand. She hastily
opened them, being unsealed, and read the address in
each, "my dear husband," subscribed, "from your af
fectionate wife, Janette Frazier." Filled with feelings of
alarm and indescribable embarrassment, she hastily at
tempted to refold the letters, when from the noise made
by the rattling of the paper or some other cause, Mr.
Frazier awoke, sprang put on the floor, near her, and
with the most bitter threats and blasphemous impreca
tions, accused her of basely rifling his pockets for dishon
est purposes ; and snatching the letters from her already
paralyzed hands, he pushed her quite across the chamber,
declaring he would murder her if ever she was alike guilty
again. She fell and fainted. They never more spoke to each
other. She never more saw him. The loud and boister
ous talking of the reverend gentleman, followed by the
heavy fall upon the floor, alarmed the servants in the
room below, and the maid-servant running up into her
mistress' apartment, finding her still breathless on the
floor, gave the alarm, and it was more than an hour after
ere, with the most assiduous attentions of the three young
ladies, and the aid of a variety of appliances of a stimula
ting and restorative character, she was revived. Still,
however, when from time to time apparently restored,
sinking again and again, during the day, into insensibil
ity. In a short time after Cornwallis left Hillsboro', and
this remarkable pretender to the Redeemer fled from the
country, after having sold all the slaves, and very valua-

200 LEGENDS OF THE
ble mills and lands received of his Virginia wife, pock
eted the whole, leaving the deluded lady with her inno
cent little boy dependent upon her lands in Virginia and
a few servants for a support during the residue of her
hapless life.
From this melancholy and vivid picture of human de
pravity, the heart grows sick, looks out for relief, and the
sentient mind finds none but in the solemn yet reasona
ble conclusion, there must come a general judgment, a
day of final general retribution. Aye, to the hypocrite a
" Great day of revelation ! In the grave
He shall leave his mask, and stand
In native ugliness ! He was a man
Who stole his livery from the court of Heaven
To serve the devil in ; in virtue's guise
Devoured the widow's house and orphan's bread ;
In holy phrase transacted villainies,
That commen sinners durst not meddle with !
At sacred feasts he sat among the saints,
And with his guilty hands touched holiest things !
And none of sin, lamented more, or sighed
More deeply, or with graver countenance,
Or longer prayer, wept o'er the dying man,
Whose infent children, at the moment, he
Had planned — to rob." — Pollock.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 201

CHAPTER XVIII.

Frank Wood again at home — Learns the dreadful intelligence of the
abduction of his sister 'Susan and Maria Davidson by the Tories
and Indians — Visits with' his mother the monument she had erec
ted over the grave of his father^ Visits with his sister Rosa the
family of the Simpsons, and something is told strongly signifying
a love match between two young lovers.

While man possesses heart and eyes,
Woman's empire never dies.
In a few days after the event related by Frank Wood
of the capture of the Tories, seeking to unite in the British
service under Col. Tarlton, he became satisfied that the
whole of the vile men, who had combined and cruelly
murdered his father, were all dead, except Ernest; and
that with that exception, he had -fulfilled his father's pre
diction and his own solemn vow, when it might be almost
in truth said for the first time he permitted himself to
think of his home, and mother, and sisters, and the
forlorn and unprotected condition in which he had left
them. He felt that he had rendered some good and effi
cient service to his beloved country v since he had joined
the forces under the command of Gen. Morgan ; that her
condition and prospects of being finally successful in the
achievement of the liberty for which her heroic patriots
so ardently struggled and panted, was improved and
brightening ; and he concluded to obtain from his colonel
a brief furlough and spend a few weeks at his home, and
in the society of those loved ones.
Candor, however, compels us to say it was not only to
see his beloved mother, to ascertain the condition of her
mind and domestic affairs, nor to enjoy the pleasant so-

202 LEGENDS OF THE
ciety of his interesting and much loved sister, that most
powerfully operated to induce his return to his native
neighborhood and the home of his family.' That neigh
borhood was also the native neighborhood of Mary Simp
son, with whom he had in the morning of life been made
acquainted ; had been a pupil with her in more than one
country school ; had spent in company with her, her sis
ter, and his own, many delightful days in childish gam
bols over the farm of their fathers, or in the beautiful
groves contiguous ; and had half in earnest and h^lf in
jest, interchanged a thousand pledges of boyish love, re
ciprocated in the various plays in which they joined, and
the redeeming of pawns and forfeitures, fashionable in
those more primitive days and times. For her, from a
small boy, he had always felt a more than common attach
ment. But he had no distinct idea that his prepossession
in her favor, amounted to the thing he had heard called
love, until she was far away from him, nor until he had
accomplished the chief object of his sudden and early en
trance into the army, and the service of the country ; and
found time to meditate upon home, and analyze and de
termine upon the true character of the feelings and senti
ments prompting his return. He knew he loved as he
ought, his mother and sisters, and yet he found he could
not separate the joy he should experience in being in the
domestic circle at home, from the keener anticipations of
delight, in beholding the pretty black-eyed daughter of
Maj. John Simpson. He concluded, therefore, and we
think very rationally, that he loved Mary Simpson, very
intensely,— unless the palpitation in his bosom, which he
sometimes felt when she was the subject of his medita
tions and thoughts, might be some pestilential disease or
affection of a strange and unusual character, caught in
the army, of which it was often productive. At such
times, he derived comfort, from the thought that if he
reached home in safety, he could consult the mother of

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 203
Mary, on the case, as she had been for years, looked up
on as the veritable horn of the altar of all medical safety,
throughout the country.
Home he went therefore ; found his meek and quiet
mother and pretty sister Rosa, in reasonable health, but
deeply afflicted in consequence of the sudden "disappear
ance of his youngest sister Susan. It was then more
than two weeks since she set out on a visit to Martha
and Mary Simpson, accompanied by a small black boy,
who aJ)out sunset of the same day, came home and stated
that while on their return, two white men, with guns and
lOng knives, and three' yellow men with little axes in their
hands, suddenly ran into the road, surrounded the young
girl, seized her bridle,, while one of the white men
sprang behind on her horse and holding ber in the grasp
of his right arm, with his left, took hold of the bridle and
quickly rode off out of sight, through the thick woods.
At first she seemed to die and to be ready to fall from
the horse, but was held up by the strong man behind her
— presently she began to scream for help and he (the
black boy) heard her screaming in that way, long after
they passed from his sight !
With many tears Frank's mother told him the sad tale,
and said she had not since heard a word of her ; whether
murdered, or what had become of her !
" In what direction from where they took her did the
boy say they went when they got out of sight? " asked
Frank. " I cannot say," his mother replied, " I did not ask the
boy Jesse. I will send for him and you can enquire."
The boy was called in and many inquiries were made
of him by Frank; but he could give no very distinct idea
either in regard to the course they took or the discription
of the two white men. He only said, in describing the
men: "Detwo white man look mighty big, black, and
imperdent ; and de injins berry mad ; Miss Susan mighty
skeard."

204 LEGENDS OF THE
After a few moments reflection and two or three turns
back and forth of his mother's room, Frank turned and
said to his sorrowful mother, "Oh, mother! I fear my
poor sister is forever, lost— lost. — forever lost! I will as
soon as I have rested a little, set out to learn her fate if I
can find the course she was taken, and the place."
A long pause ensued in the remarks of the mother and
son, the silence that prevailed being alone broken by
the repeated sobs and deep drawn sighs of Rosa, seated
at a distance from her mother ; the perfect impersonation
of patient suffering and heartfelt sorrow. Frank still in
hurried steps walked the floor of bis mother's chamber,
meditating upon the fate of his ruined sister, anxiously
seeking to determine upon the best course to be persued
to find and rescue her. He remembered that his furlough
had but five weeks to run at the first, and at the expira
tion of which, he was bound to report himself to his
commanding officer. His heart also reminded him that
among the most controling motives prompting this return
to his home and obtain their respite from the public ser
vice, was that he might behold once more the most idol
ized object of his heart's affections. These very perplex
ing thoughts and conflicting duties almost unmanned him
While, however, thus tortured in mind, he saw the meek
eyes of his mother, intently fixed upon him, expressive of
a desire to say something to him, yet hesitating to express
herself, he approached and stood near her ; yet for a time
she remained silent. Then at last said :
" Frank, have you remembered your father's threat to
his murderers, and your own solemn vow ? "
"Truly mother,". he replied, "I have not only remem
bered them, but more than fulfilled them."
He then seated himself by her and related in sub
stance all that he had done, from the time he had joined
the army under the command of Gen. Morgan ; the bat
tles in which he had fought ; and the Tories and British
he knew he had slain in those battles ; as they have al-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 205
ready been laid before the reader in the preceding pages.
When he ceased, she looked into his face, — her tears fast
steaming from her eyes and in silence rose, embraced
and kissed him. Again resuming her seat, after a pause
for a minute or more, in soft and emphatic terms, said :
" It is all right my son, — it is all right! Gome now with
me, I Wish you to take a short walk with me, till I show
you what has engaged much of my attention sinee you
have been absent."
So saying, she placed her bonnet on her bead, and tak
ing the arm of Frank, walked forth toward the grove to
-which his dreadful enemies had borne his father, and to
the fatal tree, where with remorseless hands the cruel
scourgers bound, lacerated and tore the manly body of
his heroic sire, and to the lonely grave, wrought by
his filial hands. In silence unbroken, she led him where
an unostentatious tomb, reared by conjugal affection told
the passing stranger, there slept the remains of one of
America's earliest patriot heroes ; the loved companion
of her pouthful joys and most cherished memories ! Al
ready the greenest turf artistically carved and placed,
grew upon the humble mound ; fitly emblemizing the
perennial memory of his public life and private virtues !
At the foot she meekly kneeled and wept for a few min
utes. Then turned her gentle eyes, filled as they were
wont to be, with all a mother's love ; still swimming, yet
smiling in tears, with a voice in the sweetest and most
distinct tones said, "Frank, my son, this is your mother's
monument, to the cherished worth of your heroic father,
and these tears his funeral eulogium, spoken at his grave
by one who knew and prized him most, his widowed relic,
your afflicted mother." '
Hitherto Frank had not spoken, but unable longer to
forbear, he kneeled, embraced, and kissed his mother,
and with tears streaming down his manly cheeks, ex
claimed, ^ '

206 LEGENDS OF THE
" O, mother ! may God grant to nie, just such a mon
ument at my grave, and just such a funeral eulogy ! "
Slowly they rose and in silence, as they came, retraced
their steps to the dwelling ; his mother saying, " Did you
not say, my son, it was your intention, soon as you had
rested from your long fatigues, to set out in search of your
lost sister 2 "
" So I said, and such is my purpose, mother," he an
swered. Nothing further was said, till in her chamber seated,
she said, " Frank, have you taken a final discharge from
the army or are you required again to return ; and at
what time % "
" My furlough, mother, is but short ; I am required to
report myself at Gen. Green's quarters, on the first day
of August next. I know that the cause of the country
never more heeded all heu forces. Cornwallis I learn is
already on his mareh to enter Virginia, and uniting there
his powerful army with the commands of Arnold, Tarlton,
and Phillips, already there, committing wherever -they go,
the most unheard of plunder and rapine; and will, unless
providentially and promptly checked, by our brave Wash
ington and Green, utterly overrun and ruin that beauti
ful province."
After a few minute's pause, during which she seemed
in profound thought, his mother said, " It may surprise
you, Frank, to hear from me, the advice I now shall give
you. I know full well the fraternal love in which you
have ever regarded your lost and ruined sister ; and I
should far less regard you as feeling and cherishing the
generous spirit and bravery of your father, if I thought
you would not risk life, fortune, or anything else, to save
the poor girl. Nor will you doubt for a moment her
mother's love, or the agony to which she would not sub
mit if thereby she could secure her from her dreadful
and inevitable fate. But alas, alas ! her doom is ere now

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 207
irremediably fixed. She has now been more than three
weeks at the mercy of the brutal savages who stole and
bore her to the wilderness. It is impossible to misunder
stand their despicable purpose, or to anticipate, if she yet
lives, it is in less than unspeakable ruin ; and if you
could now find her and restore her to the embraces of her
relatives, crushed in heart and mind, to another state of
circumstances and existence instead of that she now en
dures, she must still loathe herself, and will lingeringly
pine away and die. In view, therefore, of the improba
bility of your finding her with the most instant and dili
gent pursuit and search, the little real good, if any, to be
accomplished, if crowned with success, the imminent dan
ger impending over our country, and the essential service
you may be able, if you return to the army, yet to render
it in this trying crisis, your mother advises your return
accordiug to your furlough ; and may God give you a
lion's heart and giant's arm, still to strike and extermin
ate its cruel enemies."
" Then indeed,, my blessed mother, will I return in due
time, trusting in God, and your prayers still to be able to
serve my country, and if I fall it will be but to share my
heroic father's lot ; only like him, I shall not leave be
hind me such a widow and four dependent children. But
mother," he continued to say, " so deeply interesting
and engrossing have been the subjects upon which all our
thoughts and conversation have turned, I have had no
opportunity to ask you or my beloved sister about our
kind neighbors, and particularly of the noble soldier,
Maj. Simpson, his wife and daughters^are they all well?
Is the major and his brave boys still in the service ? and
does the faithful old Dan continue to command and mus
ter his men ? to guard the neighborhood ? Oh ! if he
and his brave boys had been at hand when my poor lost
sister was attacked and stolen by those desperate Tories
and Indians, they, I verily believe, would have rescued

208 LEGENDS OF THE
her or perished in the effort. But alas ! there was none
there to save her."
" They are all well," replied his mother,, "or were so
when we last heard from them. The major and his sons
are still in the army with Gen. Marion, near Savannah,
and uncle Dan still draws on his master's cocked hat, and
parades his men. Yes, truly, Frank, I believe too, if the
good old black man had been with his company at hand,
he would have saved my poor Susan or lost his life. For
Mary Simpson told us when visiting us last week, how
the good old man wept when he heard she had been carried
off; and said, ' if Gor-a-mighty pleased dis old Dan been
dar, he shoot two tree dem Britishers, and two tree dem
red Ingins, — but he cum, and dis nigger no dar.'"
"Mother, when was Mary — I- — I mean Miss Mary
Simpson, here ? " said Frank. " Did she seem well ? and
did — did she " —
" O, yes, brother," innterrupted Rosa, who, sitting
near her mother, heard his hurried enquiries about the
Simpsons, and particularly about Mary, — " yes, yes, she
makes very particular enquiries about you whenever she
sees any of us. And when wc told her we had learned,
that at the battle of King's Mountain you had certainly
shot Col. FergusOn and several of his hired Tories, that
he get to murder father, she laughed, clapped her hands,
and cried all at once, and almost shouted with joy. 0 ! "
she exclaimed, " I prayed for it, hoped for it, and folly
expected it, of that courageous young man. Aye, he is
so much like his brave father ! ' "
"And did she say this, Rosa?"
" Indeed she did, brother, and much more, but I can't
remember the half. O ! how the dear girls and Mrs.
Simpson wept, when they heard of the fate of our poor
dear sister. But alas ! all our sympathy and pity can
not avail. Did you hear, brother, that about the same
time she was taken off, Maria Davidson, daughter of Col.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 209
John Davidson, who stayed with us the night before the
Mecklenburgh convention, and who was killed by the
British in the skirmish at the crossing of the Dan River,
was stolen .off also, and has never since been heard of ? "
" No, sister. Did they say by whom she was taken,
and whether there were any Indians with the party ? "
inquired Frank.
" We did not learn about any Indians," she answered.
" Do the Tories," she asked, " always have Indians along
with them when they go upon such an expedition ? "
" Sometimes they do," replied Frank. You know one
Indian was with the Harpes when they went with the
other Tories, to carry off Elizabeth Smith, Mr., Lawrence
Smith's daughter; and you remember our father shot the
Indian,. Tiposa; through the heart, just as he had cleaved
tjie head of the poor black John ? " " O yes, said Rosa,
I remember it very well ; and after father came up and.
shot the Indian the other Tories got off."
"01 mother," said Frank, "if on several occasions
during my late campaign when I met with,, and more than*
oiice shot at that horrible Tory, big Bill Harpe they call
him, I had only been half as successful as I usually am^..
I should have swept from earth that dreadful bloody thief,, .
and we, would not, in my confident opinion, be this. day
mourning as we are, pur poor lost Susan. I have thought,
it all over and fully believe that she has been stolen by
the two Harpes; and that when they lately returned,
from the Cherokee nation to which, I heard in the. army,
they had fled six or eight months ago, they brought with
them the Indians Jesse saw. It has always been. a thing
I could not account for, that I should so repeatedly miss
my most deliberate aims at him. But he has been spared
some way still to run his vile course. "Providence has
still permitted him to live. God have mercy upon us all !
We are all subject to his power anil many things occur
which human wisdom cannot comprehenid. Well, yet,
mother, we have not talked quite as much about the,'
' 14

210 LEGENDS OF THE
Simpsons as I wished, though I can hardly think what
more to say of them."
" Shalll tell you, brother? " said Rosa.
"I don't care," said the brother. " What is it, sister!"
" Why would you not like to have mother say that she
would be pleased to have the pretty little Mary for a
daughter-in-law, if Harry or somebody else would many
her ? "
" O ! sister, you sport with us."
" Frank, we know you have long loved Mary as a sis
ter," said Mrs. Wood, " arid it may be that that love has
ripened into a still more tender character. If that is the
case, hesitate not to confide the secret to your mother and
sister. Truly, I esteem that sweet girl as highly and al
most as affectionately as my own daughters? ahd of
course, if you were not so young, that you should maka
ber my daughter-in-law."
" Well— well, mother, we will not say more about it
now," replied the brother. " Sister, would you not like
to ride over with me to Maj. Simpson's to-morrow? "
" Yes — yes, indeed, I would, brother, and will promise
to do all I can with the wily little jade in your behalf,
and take you at once, for better — for worse."
"Ah, Rosa! what an elastic and playfhl heart and
mind you have. It were well it is so. For no one could
live long with sueh a sensitive mind and under the severe
trials you of late have had to bear without it. But well
go in the morning, remember."
" Unsullied and pure is the future's broad scroll ;
And as leaf after leaf from its folds shall unroll,
The warp and the woof, they are woven by me,
But the shadows and coloring rest, niortal, with thee.
'Tis thine to cast over theiuf brightness and bloom,
The sunlight of morning— or hties of the tomb." — Mary 6ardiiet4
In the morning of the next day the brother and sister,
according to the arrangement of the previous evening,
visited the pleasant family of Maj. Simpson. Having to

•WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. -211
pass near uncle Dan's eabin, they had little more than
arrived in full view fro-tri the dOor, before they were dis
covered by the kind, simple-hearted aunt Molly, who
came running to meet them, crying out as she ran :
¦ "Dar now, Daniel, Mars Frank cumed agin. Mars
Frank cumed agin ! Dat you, Mars Frank ? I knows it
is, an' Miss Rosa too."
Soon uncle Dan followed, having taken time only to
find and adorn himself in his old cocked hat, and to
buckle on his broad sword, Here he Came, walking
along ; his sword swinging sometimes on one side, and
sometimes on the' bthe* — and then again crossing be
tween his brawny legs, almost tripping him up in his
hurried Strides, shouting as he came :
" Gora mighty bress you, massa Frank ; yOu id corned
agin, and I knows it. Molly seed massa Frank fuBt, an'
runned fust, but dis ole nigger is cumed now ari' got he
cock hat On tO see him too; hora for dis riigger! Hora
for massa Frank ! He done cum from de King Mountain,
an' he aint kilt neider — yah, yah, yah 1 "
"I am glad to see you, too, rny worthy old friends,"
eaid Frank. " Are all the family well, uncle Dan ? Have
you heard from your bra\te old master lately ? Where
was he, and was he well % "
" He well, Gor bress him, down at Sawannas, ready
for to kill de Britishers dar, too. Ride on, mars Frank,
Mise Rosa. Dis ole Dan gwyne wid you, hole de hosseai
when you's gwyhe talk to Missis, an' de young ladies.
Halloo, Molly, you's gwyne tod? O, dese 'omans ii'
al'ays gwyne too, mighty fast."
" In a few moments they reached the yard gate and
alighted ; but before they reached the door of her dwell
ing, the good Mrs. Simpson', with Martha, met arid
greeted them with great cordiality. Mary jllso ran to the
door, then started back arid disappeared. They were
seated iri the parlor but a few minutes before the ques
tions after the health of the Wood family generally, and

212 LEGENDS OF THE
Frank in particular ; when he had arrived at home, and
how long would it be before he purposed to return to the
army, were quickly asked and answered, but accompa
nied all the time with a look and appearance of impa
tience in Frank. He arose from his seat, hastily walked
the floor a few times, and then. with a brisk step made
his way to the matron's chamber in search of some one. ...
, "Ah, ha! mother," said Martha, "don't you see I
told you how it was ? that if ever Frank lived to get back
and get here, you would know who of us all, was the
greatest attraction. I'll venture he has found sister be
fore this time, and I dare say he kissed her! I wish I .
had been there to see them meet."
" Aye, yes," Rosa remarked,, " I reckon, Martha, you
guess quite correctly."
" No wonder, Rosa," said Mrs. Simpson, " she knows
the walk -of these young Whig soldiers very well, and has
had no little experience, if Lieut. Lee can steal a few
days from the army to come and see us. He has only-
done so, however, in the last four months, twice ! "
" O, mother," said, Martha,, " now I dp say that is too
bad; and — and — O, here they come. I knew Frank.
would bring her from her hiding place."
They entered the parlor side by side and seated them
selves near Rosa, who was sitting on a sofa. Frank's
heretofore sad and melancholy countenance seemed evi
dently changed to a more cheerful aspect than it had
shown from the time of his father's murder. And the
pretty Mary's was much, more than usual (though such
was its wonted livery), beautifully dressed in the sweetest
smiles. " Ah, brother," said Rosa, " I verily believe your ride
has already made you quite well. Yesterday you looked!
weary and quite wayworn. To-day, and particularly
since we arriveel here, your usual blush and , cheerful
smiles appear. Last evening when you were telling mo-,
ther how bad you felt, and feared you would haye to ap-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 218
ply to' some physician arid take medicine, as you' might
have brought with you the camp-fever or some other bad
complaint,1 1 feared from your looks it might be so ; but
now I know you are altogether well. The looks and re
joicings of uncle Dan and aunt Molly or Mrs. Simpson,
or somebody -else, has doctored you up already. Come,
tell us who has wrought this miracle ? "
' "It was'rit I;" said Martha, " and I don't think it was
mother, though she is everywhere called a first rate doc
tor. And yet I don't think it was the broad grin of joy
expressed by the good ;old African, uncle Dan, nor the
fat, hearty and jolly appearance of aunt Molly. My little
sis, this wonder must have been effected by you. I should
like to know such an efficacious remedy .myself."
" Well, upori nay wOrd, Miss Martha," •said her mother,
you play off your wit and irony quite prettily this morn
ing, on all of us; but particularly your sister and Mr.
Wood. It might not be the best thing for the cause of
the country, now that it so much needs offic^rs'and men,
if a Certairi young lieutenant of the army, who could be
mentioned, who often gets himself set down on the sick
list, obtains leave of absence every month or two to rusti
cate for his health in Mecklenburgh county, for weeks at
¦a time, especially at Maj. Simpson's fine country resi
dence, was to find out you were so wonderfully advanced
in the healing art as you and Rosa seem to think your
sister has become. He might abandon the cause of lib
erty altogether, and be inspired by the sanitary remedies
of his "physician."
"There, no.w, sister Martha — take that," 6aid Mary,
" mother best knows how to adihiriister to your case — all
will agree after this."
"O! mother, you always take Mary's part. If I did
not love you both so much, so that I can sometimes
scarcely tell which the most, I should be jealous of her ;
but indeed, I ldve her so ardently, (casting her glance on
Frank) I could almost love any orie she fancied, though

214 LEGENDS OF THE
he were a huge, rough young soldier ; and though he had
but just slain dozens of the enemies of his country."
" Come, come, now, you must not exaggerate Miss Mar
tha," said Frank, "I have only slain fourteen, instead
of dozens. Yet I don't see that that should be a ground
of objection, as it is only twelve or thirteen more than
Lieut. Lee has buried; especially as I promised, in a few
weeks more, to endeavor to duplicate that small number."
" Bravo," said Mrs. Simpson, " God give you speed
while you maintain the right."
" Well, now, let us all retire to the dinner table ; some
of us, at leaBt, feel more like eating than fighting, and are
likely to enjoy it with far greater zest."
" While partaking of the abundant repast prepared by
the direction of the mistress of the house, the glee and
repartee of the two young ladies, Martha and Rosa, still
continued, till Frank, when a short interval occurred, in
a grave and thoughtful tone of voice, enquired of the
matron, if there was any prospect of Maj. Simpson's re
turning home in any short time. Being answered in the
negative, pr, that she was unable to form any opinion.
His countenance assumed a still graver aspect, and Rosa
detected, or said she did, a deep sigh to follow.
"0! brother," exclaimed his sister, " that is certainly
no great cause of difficulty, I should suppose, as you bet
ter could reach him at his quarters in time for your pur
pose ; and we would all unite in your petition. Would'nt
you, Martha ? and you, M^ry ? "
" Certainly," said Martha, " if my sister will head the
list of endorsers."
The pretty little Mary blushed very thoroughly, fled
from the table, and, in her haste to disappear, turned over
her chair, producing such a thundering and rattling on
the uncarpeted floor — for carpets were little known ah£
less used in those revolutionary times — that all but Frank
sprang up also, and upset one or two more ! But the
young soldier, who had so repeatedly heard the musket

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 215
and rifle's crack, and the cannon's roar, was little dis
turbed in his equanimity, — seeming, in fact, to begin
afresh his banquet, and only observed to his sister, that
she was as famous for raising a rumpus as Gen. Morgan.
wherever he went ; quick in generalship and finding an
alternative in every emergency.
Thus the evening passed very pleasantly, and its en
joyment heightened much by the parade extraordinary of
uncle Dan, mustering and marching his company in his
mistress's yard, as he said to Molly, "for mars Frank to
too de troop, an' tell massa Morgan how dey does, an' he
go dar to de army agin."
" Aye, now, Daniel, dar tis agin ! you's gwyne show
massa's ole cock hat to mars Frank an' de ladies. You'se
no gwyne to massa Morgan— no howse."
" Well, den, you'se gwyne I's gwyne too, an' dats flat,"
said Molly.
"Ah, dar tis!" the old man exclaimed, " dese
omens al'ays cumin an' gywne too."
Presently the old man appeared, marching his men
into the yard in gallant style, beating time with quite a
military step to the tap and flam of the drum and the
Jteen squeak of the fife playing a martial air.
Delighted with their visit, Frank and his sister re
turned at evening to their niother's, and there we will
leave them for the present until the young soldier's fur^
lough required his setting forth to join again the army.
We shall not, however, refuse our patient readers the nat
ural and delightful privilege of conjecturing, that the
young gentleman often thought it beneficial to his health
to visit at Simpson farm ; yea, every day, to have the
benefit of the medicine to which the merry young ladies,
Martha and Rosa, so wittily and facetiously silluded.
"Warriors and statesmen have their meed of praise,
And what they do or suffer, men record ;
But the long sacrifice of woman's days
Passes without a thought — yvithout a word." — Mrs. Norton.

216 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XIX.

Frank Wood sets out from his home in North Carolina to join his
regiment under Gen.' Green according to his furlough — He if
transferred and attached to the division of the army then under
Gen. Lafayette in Virginia — In course of time, with that division,
he was marched tp the vicinity of Yorktown, and when joined to
the other force of Gen Washington, marched to entrap and be
siege Cornwallis at Torktown — When Cornwallis capitulated and
provisions were made and completed by Gen. Washington, safely
and securely, to dispose of the many thousands captured at Tork
town and dispose of the large amount of munitions of war ther*
given up in the capitulation, obtained leave from Marquis Lafay
ette to return to his home and his friends in North Carolina — On
his way Frank Wood has many thoughts of his country, seeks to
look into her future, and prays for her prosperity — Finds and
consummates his previous engagement m marriage with Mary
Simpson. Eaelt in the morning of the day following that on
which the reader has seen the brave and most indomita-
able Frank Wood take leave of his betrothed bride, Mary
Simpson, he rose and partook of a morning repast ; and
having made a hasty visit once more to the little monu
ment erected by his mother over the sleeping dust of his
honored father, and haviDg returned to the house, his
horse made ready, he took leave of his beloved mother
and sister and set forth to join his regiment in the army
under the command of Gen. Green at  , whither he
learned at Guilford it had marched and was temporarily
stationed. On his way he passed the dwelling of Mrs.
Clarissa Davidson, the doubly bereaved widow and
relict of Col. John Davidson, killed by the British at the
crossing of Gen. Green's army at Dan River, when pur
sued by Cornwallis's forces to that point. With her he
had before formed no acquaintance. Her patriotic hus-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 217
band, however, he had for years well known, and was
with him when he was killed at the crossing of the Dan.
For him and his memory he entertained the highest grat
itude and esteem, and thought it his duty to call and en
quire after her health and condition." He found her the
picture of inconsolable grief^ and worn down with a true
mother's horror for the fate of her poor daughter, Maria,
ruthlessly stolen and borne off by unknown savage vil
lains, and of whose sad destiny or unimaginable sorrows
she was still wholly left to conjecture. Alishe had as
yet heard she had, been informed by the little son of her
neighbor, that he saw her swiftly borne along an obscure
path-way which passed through a dense forest, held in his
lap by a dark looking, and fierce man on horse-back ; she
..screaming, and calling for help. Besides that she had
heard nothing.
Frank then told her of the sad circumstances of the dis
appearance of his sister Susan, about the same time, and
of what he had learned through the medium of the hunt
ers at1 the foot of the great Clinch mountain, wbosaW two
girls tied on their horses, accompanied by two white men
and several Indians, briskly urging their course across
that mountain toward the vast wilderness of the West ;
and that from what they said _of the appearance of the
men and of thS two girls, he was induced to believe the
two Harpes, big Bill, and Josh, were the men that had
stolen his sister and Maria. Mrs. Davidson agreed with
Mm in the opinion, inasmuch as she. had heard, she said,
that the two had about that time been seen in the neigh
borhood of their father's, John and William Harpe, an
had been missed from the country for many months be
fore, shortly after the battle at Eing's Mountain. She
had heard much already of their murderous practices and
devotion to the cause of the king, which was fully con
firmed by the statements of Frank Wood. He then bid
the sorrowful mother farewell and proceeded on his way
to the army.

218 LEGENDS OF THE
That night he came to Hillsboro', and at the inn
where he stopped for entertainment, he met with Wal
ter Brame, the son of the old elder, Melchesidep
Brame, who, sent by his father, had just arrived fron Vir
ginia ; having heard of the treachery and villainy of Pay-
rtSon Frazier, his flight with the British army under Corn
wallis — to accompany the luckless wife, Mrs. Happy
Frazier, with his sisters, Mary and Amy, back to their
home in Virginia. From young Brame he learned the
villainy of the parson, and being invited by him, the
young soldier went to the residence of Mrs. Frazier and
heard from the ladies a narrative of the conduct of that
despicable hypocrite. They all were to set out on the
ensuing morning for Yirginia, and it was agreed that the
young soldier would accompany them till he was com
pelled to take the route necessary to reach the army of
(Jen. Green at  ¦. On the way the two young men
agreed, each to employ every opportunity and means
which might occur, in or out of the American service, or
American army, to catch and punish the renegade Scotch
man in some appropriate way, for his cruel conduct to the
unhappy woman whom he had decoyed from her peace
ful home, robbed of her ample estate, and left with her
infant son to be the victims of suffering and want, and of
the disparagement consequent upon his disgraceful con
duct. It so happened that it was not long after these
young patriots separated, Frank Wood to join his regi-
ment, and Walter Brame to escort his sisters and Mrs.
Frazier to Caroline county, Virginia, ere they met again
and knew each other in the army of Gen. Washington
near the ppsition of Cornwallis and the defences he erected
at Yorktown against the combined assaults of the Amer
icans and French. Each in his respective division fought
bravely. Young Wood among the continental troops of
North Carolina attached to the command of the marquis
Lafayette, the regiment commanded by the brave Col,

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 219
Nash, while Brame in the militia was attached to the
same diyisiop, several times they each in storming the
enemy's redoubts, or laboring faithfully in the erection of
batteries, exposed to the raking fires of his cannon from
his heavy batteries as the Americans advanced upon the
British lines, Meanwhile, each in compliance with their
mutual promises on the travel from North Carolina tp
Virginia, kept Up a constant enquiry and most diligent
look out, to ascertain whether his reverence, Parson Fra
zier, was among the besieged. They learned from sev
eral captured prisoners that, he was, and was attached to
the, quarters of his lordship, the pritish commander-in-
chief. "I should like very well," said Frank in a conversa-
sation with Brame about his reverence, " to add his name
to the list of my elect ones from the Tories of North Car
olina, and perform his funeral obsequies even in his lord
ship's presence ; making the music of my sweet, singing
old rifle, in short metre, chaunt the solemn dirge. We
must, however, Braine, abide our time, and until our be
loved Washington shall capture or kill these gathered foe-
men of our America, and an opportunity occurs, (which I
feel we shall have shortly,) to reckon with that dreadful
hypocrite for a portion, at least, of his base frauds and
crimes. 'One of the prisoners who gave me the informa
tion of his presence in Oornwallis's army, confirmed the
fact that he left his wife in Scotland when he came to
this country, and that she had followed, and was now in
Nova Scotia. O ! rely upon it, sir, he is a Very fit sub
ject for the most earnest animadversions of my laconic
rifle." Days and weeks came, passed, and crowned with con
tinued success the efforts of the besiegers. Victory
perched at last on the banner of Washington and Liberty.
Cornwallis capitulated, and surrendered himself and his
entire surviving forces, prisoners of war ; together with
his ample supply of munitions. But what became of the

220 LEGENDS OF THE
Scotch parson ? We regret to have to "say that through
the timely negotiation of his favorite commander, Corn
wallis, and the dignified clemency of the American com
mander-in-chief, as my lord's quarters were becoming too
hot and dangerous for the natural non-combative temper
ament of the parson, he was permitted to quit the Bri
tish camp, pass through the patriot lines Undisturbed,
and speedily made his "way to Nova Scotia. There he
was last heard of. We here transcribe the brief corres
pondence of the two commanders, by which this import
ant privilege for Mr. Frazier secured him for the present,
immunity from the just punishment for his base crimes.
Frank Wood never saw him. We now give the corres
pondence between the two generals on the occasion. Early
in the morning of the day preceding the capitulation of
Lord Cornwallis, one of his aids was seen approachingthe
American chief's quarters bearing a white flag, and the
following brief note from his lordship to Gen. Washing
ton :
" Gen. George Washington, Commandant, <&c,
" Sib: Confiding, in
your generous clemency and known desire to ameliorate,
as far as consistent with your duties and the public good,
the unnecessary cruelties and asperities of war, I have the
honor, respectfully, to address your excellency in behalf
of the Rev. Mr. James Frazier, late of Edinburgh, Scot
land, now within the British lines at this place ; and ask
your permit for him to pass unmolested to Williamsburg,
preparatory to an embarkation to Nova Scotia, the home
of his family. He is not now in arms and has not at any
time been, against the colonies ; I therefore in confidence
in his behalf solicit that your excellency give him the per
mission requested. (Signed) CORNWALLIS,
Commander-in-chief of British troops .
at Yorktown, province of Virginia.
" Oct. 18, 1781."

tt I

WAB. OF INDEPENDENCE. 221
" Yobktown, Va., Oct. 18, 1851.
'To the note of Cornwallis, commander of the British
forces at jthis place, and of this date, the American com
mander-in-chief has the bonor to reply to the request of
his lordship, that, it is his wish and purpose, as far as he
deems consistent with his duty, to remove and pass by,
as he , has heretofore endeavored to do, all, the cruelties
and asperities of war in this contest. Americans war not
against women and preachers, but enemies, and. therefore
hereby grants to the. Rev. Mr. , James Frazier the permit
and passport enclosed herein. Respectfully, &c,
GEO. WASHINGTON."
For the above correspondence the writer of these. le-;
gendB is' indebted to an original letter of Gen. Washing
ton, addressed to elder Melehesidec Brame, from Mount
Vernon, dated the 19th of May, 1-782, found with Mr.
Brame's private papers at his death;; preserved by the
author's honored father, Maj. James Smith, executor of
Mr. Brame, and now before us.
¦ Gen. Washington's communication to the author's
grand-sire, elder Brame;, seems in answer to one previ
ously addressed to the general, by bim, enquiring con-
cerri ing- Frazier and all the information he possessed of
the man. Its genuineness has never been questioned.
At all events, the base Scotch impostor hastily disap
peared from Yorktown and was never again heard of in
the United States;
Thus essentially closed the belligerent operations of the
king against the patriots of America, and their independ
ence, all glorious, was permanently secured.
Frank Wood continued after the siege at Yorktown,
the capitulation of Lord Cornwallis, and the universal
bursts of joy and thanksgiving of the whole people, from
Maine "to Georgia, had- subsided to some extent, and ef-
febtual provisions and dispositions made by Gen. Washings
ton, to secure the great body of officers and Boldiers taken

222 LEGENDS OF THE
prisoners at that place ; and the removal of them, together
with the great amount of arms and munitions of war to
points of greater security. He appealed to Gen. Lafay
ette, personally, to whose division he had been attached
before the siege, for permission to return to his home in
North Carolina, for the comfort and protection of his
Vndowed rriother and orphari sister; representing briefly
the circumstances of his father's death, the unprotected
condition of his faihily, and the abduction of his youngest
sister Susan, by a banditti of Tories and Indians ; that she
if not already murdered, was held captive in a condition
in the vast wilderness, worse than death. He also in
formed the General, in a few words, the true and distinct
understanding between himself and Gen. Morgan, when
first he entered the army. His request was readily grant
ed by the good old marquis ; yet, he promising, if again
his beloved country imminently demanded his personal
services, to repair instantly to "his proper position, and
efficiently, as heretofore, to battle in the cause. The
next morning, at an early hour, he bid farewell to hii
companions in arms, to Walter Brame and a few otheri
of his brave associates, and set forth inspired by the most
joyous hopes of home and country, anticipating in a few
days, by good speed in the travel, to see and embrace
once more his venerable mother and much beloved sister.
As he journied, he was the subject of many thrilling
thoughts, very bright and buoyant hopes, and sweet anti
cipations for himself, hia family and his beloved country.
Of that loved country he mused and with thought intense,
solicitude profound, striving to see foreshadowings of her
future grandeur and glory. He thirsted to catch in his
mind's eye, straining through the vista of rolling years,
glimpses of her future destiny among the nations. Bnt
confidently believing the war was essentially ended or
would, shortly be, her independence secured, she must,
under God, work out her own glory, or shame ; and ani-

W.AE OF INDEPENDENCE. 223
ious thoughts rushed athwart bis njind. He might not,
however, be regarded as properly instructed and fully
versed in things of scriptural faith, and what justly be
longs to a christian man's trust and dependence on the
Almighty's overruling, providence,, to give form and, sub
stance to his hopes and prayers for her future history ;
yet from the lessons received from the lips and examples
of his pious and well instructed mother, though so young
himself, superadded to his experience, amidst the trying
vicissitudes of hig very adventurous life, he prayed for
that country in pious poetic strains, not unlike that of his
countryman, Pierpont, inspired by the same subject, in
strains devout: —
" God of peace ! — whose spirit fills
All the echoes of Our hills,
All the murmurs of our rills,
Now the storm is o'er ; —
0, let freemen be our sons;
And let future Washingtons
RiSe to lead those valiant oniSs, . j
'Till there's War no more."
Or as Gregory says:
"Not hirelings trained to the fight,
With symbol "and clarion glittering bright;
Nor prancing of chargers, nor martial display,
Nor war-trump be heard, mid their silent array;
O'er the proud heads of freemen our star-banners wave,
Men firm as their mountains and still as the grave.''
Thus while urging his faithful steed onward to hi»
home, it is reasonable, and such was in truth the case,
that thoughts not only of his country and her future his
tory and destiny, also of his beloved mother, sisters and
brother, but yet, above all, of her " whose witching
¦mile had caught his youthful fancy," thrilling his sonl
and commingling with most engrossing force and delight,
the moments that made up the sum of his journey. In
four days he reached that cherished home,

224 LEGENDS OF THE
Where early life he sported,
And Mary first had courted.
His meeting with his mother and sister was of course
very agreeable, as he found them in health, hopefully re
posing and trusting in the* guardian care of him who hag
revealed himself, the orphan's father and widow's friend!
He was meekly greeted by them both, only Rosa's joy
was less tempered than the calm and chastened embrace
of maternal affection tbat silently and impressively beamed
from a mother's eye and ever spoke to his heart. It wag
night, and in an interchange of narratives of the passing
events since his departure to join his regiment, was the
evening's entertainment until the war-worn soldier and
wearied traveler sought his bed, but not before he had
learned from them the health, &c, of the Simpsons, and
had informed them of his intention to visit that family on
the coming day, requesting the company of his 6ister.
That day came and ere it was noon, he had the pleas
ure to find Maj. John Simpson and his two sons, like
himself, just returned from the tented field and at home.
By these, as also the balance of the family, generally, his'
visit was most cordially received. There was one there,
however, that did not half so soon as his impulses of af
fection desired, but she replete with modesty, while dis
ciplining her, blushing beauties and stilling the tides of
maiden feeling, was the last of all to welcome his return.
Still when they met,
" The crimson glow of modesty o'er spread
Her cheek, and gave new lustre to her charms."
It was not many days ere Frank addressed Maj. Simp
son and his wife to consent to their union. They gave,.
consent, and the father in the fullness of a father's confid-'
ing hopes and solicitudes for their mutual blessing, may
be imagined by the reader thus to have addressed the
successful suitor :

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 225
" On you, blest youth, a father's hand confers
The maid thy earliest, fondest wishes knew ;
Each soft enchantment of the soul is hers;
Thine be the joys to firm attachment due."
They were shortly after married, and among the happy
participants at the marriage feast ; none were more hap
py than the good old colored foreman, Uncle Dan, and
his garrulous old ooman, Aunt Molly.
15

226 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XX.

Thoughts on the effects of times, surrounding localities, circumstan
ces, physical and metaphysical, climate, topography of country,
education, manner of life and action to make the man a giant or a
pigmy, a philosopher or an ape, a hero or a poltroon — Capt. Jack
Ashby — His feats of activity and bravery — Trip to Kentucky —
Escape from the Indians at the falls of the Ohio.

" 0, there is moral might in this —
My mind to me a kingdom is.
Sound it in the ears of age,
Stamp it on the printed page,
Gladden sympathising youth
With the soft music of this truth,
This echoed note of heavenly bliss, —
My mind to me a kingdom is." — Tupper.
"'lis education forms the common mind;
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined." — Pope.
Theee is no fact better sustained and established in the
history and records of human action and character than
that cities crowded full, and even countries dense in pop
ulation, neither germinate nor rear the minds of our race,
which shine forth as lights of genius, enterprise and use
fulness—to eliminate science, advance art, elevate thought,
and swell the tide of social kindness and prosperity — like
the broad horoscope of the wilderness, the vast contigui
ties of sun and shade, hill and dale, mountain, cliff, and
by the side of the roaring cataract.
Nor is this difficult to account for, or its causes to de
velop. Mind is always — matter sometimes, imitative.
Man is everywhere, and always, an imitative being ; uni
versally affected in sense and sentiment by the creations
and objects which surround him. This principle inphy-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE.

227

sics as well as metaphysics, we think, is demonstrated
more or less in the experience and observation of every
reflective individual, by the analogies of nature, and the
proofs of Holy Writ. It is not, however, designed to de
part from the original purpose of this book, so as to enter
into disquisitions applicable to the one or the Other —
physics or metaphysics ; and therefore we shall not ex
tend these fugitive suggestions farther into those almost
illimitable fields of reason and speculation, but leave them
for the more enlightened, curious, and imaginative, to pur
sue or portray ; only remarking, however, that in cities
and more densely populated countries, in proportion to
their greater aggregation and association of the everlast
ing debris of fallen and corrupted human nature, is the
increase of vicious examples. By its lurkings from the
detection of reason, and the light of heaven, the untamed
and untutored mind the more naturally and quickly glides
into the universal whirl of fashion, and sinks into the
Scylla of imitation ; or drives with most destructive force,
upon the Charybdis of vicious example. But 0, lead it
out into the broad expanses of creation ; teach it to look,
though it be but as " through a glass darkly," at God
and the grandeurs and harmonies of His creation; teach
it its comparative littjeness and insignificence, and yet
its comparative dignity and value to the teaming myriads
of objects around ; teach it to seek and ask for wisdom
at wisdom's fount, and the mighty purposes of its heart,
life, and immortality, it will rise, enlarge, and ripen to
apprehend, adore and imitate as far as finite may, the in
finite, in mercy goodness and love. Yea, in its diversi
fied exercises, though such a mind in its native darkness
may, for a season of' gloom and despondency, by false
philosophy betrayed, look upon creation and providence
as only leading " to bewilder and dazzling to blind, still
like the poet's hermit, it also will rise from nature to na
ture's God "—discern His justice, truth, and mercy, en
gaged to illuminate and beautify even the loneliness and

228 LEGENDS OF THE
darkness of the grave. So striking is the figure, so
beautiful are the thoughts, embodied in the stanzas of
Beattie — unrivaled in the judgment of this writer, by any
thing in the language — that we suspend for a moment the
narrative, to follow these reflections, and give these lines
in full to our respected readers.
" At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill,
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove :
'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar,
While his harp rang in symphonies, a hermit began :
No more with himself or with nature at war,
He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man.
"Ah ! why, all abandon'd to darkness and woe,
Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall 1
For spring shall return, and a lover bestow,
And sorrow no longer thy bosom inthral :
But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay;
Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn ;
0 soothe him, whose pleasures like thine pass away :
Pull quickly they pass — but they never return.
' Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky,
The moon, half extinguish'd, her crescent displays :
But lately I mark'd, when majestic on high
She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze.
Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue
The path that conducts thee to splendor again.
But man's faded glory what change shall renew ?
Ah fool ! to e?;ult in a glory so vain !
' 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ;
I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you ;
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew:
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;
Kind nature the embryo blossom will save.
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn !
0 when shall day dawn on the night of the grave !

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 229
"Twas thus, by the glare of false science betray'd,
That leads to bewilder ; and dazzles, to blind ;
My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade,
Destruction before me, and sorrow behind.
0 pity, great Father of Light,' then I cried,
'Thy creature, who fain would not wander froftt thee;
Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride :
From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.
— ' And darkness and doubt are now flying away
No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn.
So breaks on the traveler, faint, and astray,
The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.
See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending,
And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom !
On the cold cheek of Death, smiles and roses are blending,
And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.' "
Man is no more the creature of accident than the vic
tim of fate. Neither is he always, however, subordinate
to his power of volition and choice of action, in his obedi
ence or disobedience to the laws of his nature, and his
accountability to his final judge. We mean, therefore,
to affirm, that the time, the place, the stupendous theatre
upon which, in the providence of the Almighty governor,
the men of the revolution were born and raised and acted,
were calculated above all others, to fit prepare and qual
ify them for that trying occasion.
What think you, reader, would have been the result, if
Washington and his compatriots in the field, and in the
counsels of the colonies, in that terrific struggle and trial
of manly courage and moral firmness, had been the germs
and growth of the sickly hot-beds of the vice and effem
inacy of densely populated cities, or countries ? If our
men of war and in the cabinet, had been London cocknies,
Paris beaus, or the gay Lotharios of my lady's dressing-
room ? or the fawning flatterers of power luxury and ease ?
How would the haughty Briton have triumphed and the
last state of our fathers have been made seven times worse
than the first ? Let it be forever remembered, then, that our

230 LEGENDS OF THE
Washingtons, Henrys, Adams, Ashes, Putnams, Sumpters,
Greens, Schuylers, Randolphs, Madisons, Grahams,Woods,
Alexanders, Marions, Morgans, Waynes, Ashbys, and Da
vidsons, were sons of the wilderness ; of toil and hardship ;
had drank from the pure and uncontaminated fountains
of the free and heaven-towering mountains of the Alle-
ghanies, and their adorning forests. Sleeping oft upon
the bare bosom of earth, in the midst of the howlings of
wolves, and the yellings of hostile savages! — canopied
alone by the heavens, or the rolling streaming clouds,—
inured from the earliest life, to employments in sports
and business, most effectual for the development of the
whole mental and physical man, — and their minds and
spirits induced with fortitude the most enduring, and
courage the most unflinching. Such were the men, and
hundreds others, that officered our armies ; and such were
the men generally, by them commanded, and led to bat
tle and victory.
But having said thus much upon the general character
and qualifications of the officers and soldiers that periled
their " lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor, for
the country's freedom; of whose deeds, as officers in
dividually, and as soldiers generally, history and bio
graphy has already sufficiently spoken ; especially as re
gards those whose acts in the estimation of the writer,
were upon a broader scale, and effected wider interests.
We will now proceed with narratives of the lives and ad
ventures of a few individuals, hitherto not noticed or
known in history or biography ; nevertheless, setting forth
human character, and the feats of indomitable courage,
equally illustrative of the primary purposes of all historic
record, which we understand to be, to teach patriotism
and virtue, by the force of ever living examples.
We therefore, introduce to the reader, Capt. John, or
(as he was sometimes called) Jack Ashby, born in Vir
ginia., and reared in the immediate vicinity of the Blue
Ridge, Fauquier county. From his early youth he was

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 231
accustomed to the labor and business of a farmer — at in
tervals to the sports of the huntsman, and sometimes to
the pursuits of the aborigines, that then inhabited to some
extent the vallies east of that mountain, but mostly and
uninterruptedly, in what is now and was then generally
called the valley of Virginia. To the dense and unbro
ken forests of which he was early accustomed to go once
or twice a year, to hunt and kill bear, and deer, and
sometimes elk. His expeditions were usually crowned
with great success. He was not only delighted with such
sports of the forests, but also those of the field and was
for many years of his earlier life, after he became mar
ried, much famed for rearing and training many of the
most successful racers and breeders in the colony, at that
early day. Few men of his time, although his size was
small, heighth not more than five feet eight inches and a
half, usual weight about one hundred and thirty pounds —
could stand before him in the fashionable games of pugil
ism. Indeed, when he was in his seventieth year, and
weighed precisely one hundred and twenty pounds, the
writer was told by a gentleman of unquestionable credi
bility, he fairly whiped (one immediately after the other)
two bullying young men; and, pitching at the third, also-
young, stout and active, made him run, before he put on
his coat! So extraordinary were his feats at boxing and
bruising, that it was a common saying, "he could whip
his weight in wild cats." The gentleman above referred
to, bad made a match race for a mile, and the best two in
three having (his horse being the oldest) to carry one
hundred and twenty pounds against the catch, got the
old captain, then, as we have already said, weighing ex
actly that amount, in his seventieth year, to ride for him,
and won the match.
Still, such were the tastes and opinions of the times,
and notwithstanding the advanced age and unstable hab
its, (as every body would now regard them,) of Capt. Ash
by, he was looked upon as a gentleman ; everywhere res-

232 LEGENDS OF THE
pected and taken by the band among the most punctilious
F. F. Vs. So much was he a man of truth ahd honesty,
of indomitable will, and unchanging purpose, that none
doubted his promises, and most certain fulfillment, whether
they were of rewards for merit or punishments for crime
or offence. In the war with the French and Indians and
in the army of Gen. Braddock, at the time of his celebra
ted defeat, near the junction of the Mononghahela and
Alleghany Rivers, he commanded a company of the Vir
ginia militia, composed principally — nay, almost exclu
sively of the real mountain-boys, as they were called;
raised in that part of the colony bordering upon, and just
east of the Blue Ridge. Men of the most brawny arms
and athletic powers, as the men of that portion of the old
dominion are to this day ; and it is a fact well known,
often spoken of and commented upon by his cotemporaries,
that during that entire campaign, in the management,
control, and disciplining of his rough, daring, and insub
ordinate militia company, not an instance occurred in
which the employment of a court martial was had upon
the case of any of his men, to inflict punishment accord
ing to the rigid rules of British military discipline, for
any of the numerous offences, great or small, committed
by them.
" 0 no," he would say to his fellow officers, and some
times to those who were his superiors in command,
and when admonishing him of the unmilitary mode in
which he punished offenders. "O no, gentlemen, your
martial law does not suit me, nor any of my men ; we
are not used to it, by zoohs" — a common oath with him.
"For if, in the first instance, the offence is only a slight
one, such as a neglect of duty, disobedience of orders, or
getting drunk, or stealing a little, — the proceedure by
your regular court martial is too much trouble, too slow
in its mode of operating, for my purpose. The punish
ment would be either whipping, which is too degrading
for one of my free Virginia boys, or it would be imprison-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 233
ment, for which I could not spare one of them from busi
ness. And if the charge was of offences of a higher
grade, and subject to severer punishments, such as shoot
ing or hanging or expulsion from the army, it would then
be a total loss of the poor devil from the service, and I
have none to spare, myself; and so I choose, by zooks, to
give him what he needs right away, and then let him go
about his business. The fact is, as I have in substance
already stated, if one of my men commit only some or
dinary act or neglect of duty, or disobedience, I first order
him to stand before me and take one knock down ; and
that's all I give him unless he jerks off his coat, or jacket,
then only two or three, if he fights pretty bravely. But,
if he makes no fight, he is given one thorough knock
down, and a kick or two in his posteriors, which ' wounds
honor, you know, more than deep wounds before,' yet still
he goes to his duties. But, Colonel, if it is for sleeping
on guard, mutiny, or any such capitol offence punished
by shooting or hanging, that's what my boys are not used
to, by zooks, and I just give 'em such a beating and bruis
ing, as they will never forget, or want again, and so I let
them go still, — by the powers."
In that campaign it will be remembered by the reader
as history narrates, that this same Capt. John Ashby,
furnished to the public service, several wagons and teams
for the transportation of baggage, camp equipage, &c,
and that the brave Daniel Morgan, of distinguished revo
lutionary fame and usefulness, was one of the drivers of
those teams,' belonging to Ashby; and who for mutiny,
knocking down and kicking a British wagon master, un
der whose command he was placed, was court martialed
and sentenced to receive, one thousand lashes from the
hands of the drum-major of the regiment to be admin
istered, five hundred at one time, and five hundred
in four weeks if he survived; that he, in due form
received the first instalment and survived ! Capt. Ash
by being, on the day when the second was to be inflic-

234 LEGENDS OF THE
ted, officer of the day, remitted and pardoned him from
receiving the other five hundred. Morgan lived there
fore, and when the revolution came, distinguished him
self more than almost any other, as a predatory and
partisan commander. Whenever intelligence reached
the brave old Captain, of the efficient service and dis
tinguished bravery and skill shown by Morgan in the
cause of liberty, he was sure to say:
" Now that's, by zooks,— that's just what I expected,
and told them cursed fool British officers, on Braddock's
expedition. Morgan has lived to do good service to his
country. But had they shot or hung him, or even gin
him them tother five hundred lashes, for thumping and
kicking Totten, the British wagon master, he'd abin no
furder use to any body, by zooks."
It will moreover be remembered by the reader of the
French war with the colonies, that as soon as the dread
ful, defeat of Gen. Braddock, had become known, an
express was sent to Lord Fairfax, then resident near
Winchester, informing him of the battle and defeat of the
army, and the fall of the commander, Gen. Braddock.
This intelligence was forwarded from Fairfax to Lord
Dunmore, then governor of Virginia, in a very few hours.
Ashby was the express sent from the army to Fairfax,
and, in an almost increditable short time, accomplished
the trip across the mighty Alleghany Mountains through
the untracked and unbroken forests and wilderness of
that then gloomy and savage country.
At seven o'clock in the evening he delivered his mes
sage to Fairfax, eat a prudent supper and slept till four
o'clock next morning, when at the earnest solicitation of
my lord, — although he had already borne the wonder
ful fatigues of the express to that point fasting, and en
during an entire loss of sleep, he undertook and conveyed
the tidings also to Williamsburg, and to the governor
and actually delivered it in the short period of thirteen
hours;, a distance of two hundred and ten miles. Cer-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 235
tainly, a most wonderful feat, and which very few then,
or at any time, could have performed.
Few in his day or now, possess like nerve and bone
and indomitable courage. In the trip from Winchester,
he impressed thirteen horses, most of which were never
of any use afterwards.
There is a pass across the Blue Ridge, in Fauquier
county, Virginia, (the earliest and almost the only one
for many years, in traveling from the eastern part of that
state to what is now called the valley), called Ashby's
Gap ; from the fact that it crossed that mountain near his
residence, then in the neighborhood of Battle Town.
But more particularly, perhaps, from the wild and most
adventurous freak of Capt. Jack, in driving his wagon
and four horses laden with two hogsheads of tobacco,
down the steep and very precipitous side of that mountain
without in any way locking the wheels, — saying, " Curse
the horse that can't outrun a wagon!" So he cracked
his whip, away he went, helter skelter, and long before
he had half reached the foot of that stupendous declivity,
the tobacco pitched upon the horses, knocked him from
his saddle full thirty feet to the one side of the road, roll
ed over and crushed two of his horses, broke the hind leg
of the third, and ceased not to roll, bound and pitch till
fully upon the plain at its base ; while fragments of his
wagon strewed the road for several hundred yards. The
old fellow received no serious injury, but in the loss of
his property, and was often heard, when describing the
feat to his friends, to say, " By zooks, I have rode many
races in my time, and beat many a one, but never in so
short a time was there as much foul riding."
In those days, before the chain-lock for the wheels was
invented, the usual lock emploj'ed was, to bind one or
more considerable trees, with limbs and all, to the hind
wheels of the wagon, and so slide down in safety. This
was altogether too slow, common and vulgar a mode of
business for our intrepid old soldier. He was universally

236 LEGENDS OF THE
pronounced thenceforth, however, a much better driver
of the British, Tories, and Indians, than of a wagon.
At what time, or in what year, Ashby first came to
Kentucky, is not certainly known to the writer. Enough,
however, is known to fix the period at a few years after
the coming of Daniel Boone ; for it is believed to have
been in the summer or fall of 1780, and a few months af
ter the act of the Virginia Legislature, in May of that
year, establishing the town of Louisville. He came to
that place in company with Benjamin Porter, and Charles
Wells, with whom at some point high up upon the Ohio
River, he met, having known them also in the French
war, and induced to accompany him to locate some mill-
tary bounty warrants of 1763, several of which he actually
did locate in the bottom between Beargrass and the Ohio
and along up the bank of the river. Afterwards he and
his companions passed over the Falls and landed at the
point about where Tarrascon's mills are built.
There he designed to make another location of several
thousand acres more, but in a few minutes after landing
their pirogue at that point, they were fired on by six or
eight Indians and neither being struck, they hurried back
into their vessel, rowed out into the river toward the op
posite shore, butiiad not more than reached the middle of
the stream, before they discovered a number on that bank
also. The Indians continued to fire upon them, but miss
ed them continually, except that Ben. Porter had his hat
knocked off into the stream by a ball passing entirely
through the crown. Down the current with as much
speed as possible, they glided, keeping as near the mid
dle as practicable ; while all along for miles, and 'till near
dark, the Indians continued the shots at them, with
out doing any damage, being scattered upon either shore,
or keeping pace with their canoe or pirogue as it passed.
Two days and nights they thus went, fearing to land-
constantly seeing Indians on one or the other of the shores,
generally on both at once. Fortunately, however, they

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 237
were provided with a small supply of provisions, consist
ing of dried venison, one beef's tongue, and a little hard
bread. At an island, as the Captain supposed,' two hundred
and fifty miles below the Falls, they landed. This island
being thinly covered with trees, they were enabled to de
tect any savages if present, or if attempts were made to
get to them from the shore, to defend themselves, or get
off again into the river, before they arrived. There they
kindled a fire, laid down and slept by turns until next
morning. One of them always on the watch. Then
with like precautionary measures they continued their
journey down the Ohio.
During their stay upon the island, they were fortunate?
ly enabled to take a fine young dde, that they discovered
swimming from the Kentucky shore, and so added, in
the way of meat, largely and sumptuously to their scanty
stock of provisions. Some consultation here took place
as to what scheme they should adopt, to extricate them
selves from the dilemma into which they had fallen.
They doubted the possibility of returning by way of the
river, as it had from some cause risen considerably, and
the force of the current materially enhanced the dan
ger of the savage shots from the shore, as their speed
would necessarily be much less. To attempt to find their
way through the mighty wilderness, so great a distance
to any of the stations of which they had any knowledge,
filled as they might well suppose, and did judge from
their continued appearance on the river, as they descend
ed, with the wily savage foes, and without a certain sup
ply of food, seemed madness. They did not then settle
upon the course they would pursue. After however, the
taking of the fine fat young doe, the old Captain observed
to his companions :
" By zooks', friends, this is doing pretty well, and I have
no doubt game is very plenty all the way along the river.
Now I'll tell you what I have been thinking, since we

233 LEGENDS OF THE
have had this piece of good luck, I have thought, let the
worst come to the worst, these red devils can only com
pel us to keep the river, and travel down it 'till it brings
us to the stopping place, or somewhere else, and I have,
by zooks, a sort of natural curiosity, any way, to see
where these mighty waters go. So I think we'll just
drive on down this current, and look into that business;
and when we get out of meat, I am sure we can get plen
ty of game, whenever we stop a while to look for it, and
we'll get, arter a while, among the Spaniards at New Or
leans, and there get aboard of some ship, or trading sloop
and go round to Charlestown, or some place farther toward
home, some of these days. That we'll try, if you are
willing?" Both of his companions were brave men, — accustomed
to hardship in hunting, and both he knew to be some
what accustomed to Indian warfare. Porter at once
agreed with Ashby, and said he thought they had better
keep to the pirogue and sail downward. But Wells, for
a time, with considerable warmth resisted the proposition.
He said, he did not like the idea of getting among the
bloody Spaniards — would rather risk it. among the Shaw
nee Indians, rowing slowly up the current," — and threat
ened leaving the boat and trying to return by land alone,
rather than risk the diseases on the river, and the Span
ish people. He finally submitted, however, and, as we
have said, they kept on down the river.
Nothing of particular note occurred with them, until
they reached the mouth of the Ohio, and on the point
formed. by its junction with the Mississippi, they landed.
Hauling their pirogue out of the water and into a thick
cluster of cane, they passed some distance from the river,
built a fire and formed as well as they could, a shelter by
cutting and spreading over a sort of frame-work, made
with small poles, a quantity of small but tall cane or reeds.
Here they also found some game, deer and wild turkeys,
and remained and rested two days. Here again these

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 239
wanderers, though far distant from their homes and the
haunts of all civilized society, were instrumental in rescu
ing and saving a very pretty and amiable young French
girl, the daughter of an alcalde or magistrate of Kaskia,
from being carried off into the wilderness inhabited only
by the Chickasaw Indians, and subjected to all the hor
rors of a forced residence among savages, and a fate more
terrific than death itself — companionship and submission
to the brutal desires and will of one of them, the most
degraded and debased.
On the morning of the second day after their arrival at
this point, Capt. Ashby, with his rifle and hunting ap
paratus, walked along the bank of the Mississippi, toward
the meeting of the waters, and had advanced in that
direction but a short distance before he heard or thought
he heard human voices. He paused and listened. Again
he advanced, heard the same voices, but although now he
was satisfied it was human voices that he heard, he was
unable to comprehend the language spoken. Stooping
very low and almost crawling, he was enabled to see the
source from whence the words came, aud discovered three
Indians and one white man on shore engaged in the talk,
appearing from the earnestness of their speech and gesti
culation as in a dispute or quarrel, while a pretty young
lady sat in one of the two bark canoes, still in the water
fastened by bark cables to the shore. She was weeping
and exhibited, as she sometimes lifted her face upward,
a countenance of despair and unbounded alarm. He was
not long in coming to the conclusion that she was a pri
soner, as he 8aw that she was bound by cords to the side
of the canoe, and that she had been stolen from some
white inhabitants somewhere, and thereupon he began to
evolve in his mind the plan in which safety and practica
bility, for himself and friends, must be considered, if they
attempted to rescue her.
He hastened with cautious steps as he had come, after
he had discovered the voices, back to the cane hut, found

240 LEGENDS OF THE
both of his companions, but Porter asleep. Quickly he
was aroused. Ashby then told what he had discovered
and heard, and, with his common asseveration, "by zooks,"
developed his determination to rescue the young girl, if
at the risk of his own life. Instantly his friends seized
their rifles and other accoutrements for battle; quickly,
and with hasty cautious steps, all were seen moving to
ward the point where the captain had seen the party.
" We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths ;
In feelings, not figures on a dial.
We should commit time in heart throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most ; feels the noblest ; acts the best." —
P. I. Bailey.
" Still may we battle for good and for beauty ;
Still has philanthropy much to essay ;
Glory rewards the fullfilment of duty ;
Rest will pavilion the end of our way." — Salts.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 241

CHAPTER XXI.

Capt. Jack and his companions shoot at the Indian party — They
kill the principal one, and wound another and the white man —
The third Indian dives into ihe fiver and escapes — Salona Maron,
the young-French girl's story — She informs the Captain that the
white man, Ben. James, is from Virginia — Ashby questions him
and discovers his knowledge of his family — He gives an account
of himself — Porter is taken sick with fever — They start down the
Mississippi, taking Ben. James with them,, after sinking the two
dead Indians in their canoe — Porter dies and is sunk in the re
maining Indian canoe, opposite Chickasaw Bluffs — Ben. James
•is' allowed to depart for his Indian home-r-Capt. Ashby, Wells,
and Salona Maron, proceed down the Mississippi — They arrive at
New Orleaps safely — Are treated well by Miss Maron's aunt and
family — Capt. Jack and Wells, arrive at San Augustine, where
Wells is taken sick and dies — Capt. Jack finally gets home after
an absence of two years.

There's a fount about to stream ;
There's a light about to beam ;
There's a warmth about to glow;
There s a flower about to blow ;
There's a midnight darkness changing into gray.
Men of thought and men of sense clear the way.
In a few minutes Ashby and party reached to within
a short distance of the party he had discovered, and tak
ing a position from which they could obtain a clear view
and near enough to hear what was said in an ordinary
voice, they discovered two of the Indians and the white
man still disputing and quarreling ; but as they all spoke
in an Indian language, wholly unknown to either Ashby
or his friends, they did not understand the subject of the
dispute. x
The other Indian was still nearer to them but squatted
upon his haunches near to the canoe in which the white
16

242 LEGENDS OF THE
girl still sat, bound to its sides. They also were holding a
conversation but in the French language which Wells un
derstood and spoke fluently. The Indian near her was
urging her to love him, — telling her of his riches, — that
he was a chief and warrior of his nation and had lately
been in Georgia with the Cherokees and Creeks, and had
killed and scalped four white men and two women, and
that if she would go with him to his nation, live with him
and be his good squaw he would make her and her father
rich. But if she did not quit crying and go with him
freely, he would kill and scalp her too, or words to that
effect. She wept most bitterly, seemed dreadfully terrified and
trembled much. However, Wells understood her to say
in reply to the Indian, that she would never go with him
willingly — that she would rather die— he might kill her,
and she would much rather than be his wife ; that he had
four days before, killed her beautiful little brother in the
cornfield and she hated him. She then lifted up her
head looked toward the heavens and cried in a distinct
voice :
"0 Marie mere de Dieu! priez pour moi-^aauvez moi
de cette destinde horrible! Emportez moi loiu de cette
destin^e cruelle ! O, priez qua je mosur ici et que j'aille a
vous. O je ne peu pas viure avee ce bourreau sauvage.
Oh, laissez moi mourrier ! "
Just as she ended this address to the Virgin Mary,
calling to. her according to the strange notion of Cath
olics, to save her or take her from the earth and the
Cruelty of the Indian murderer, instead of calling upon
God, the Almighty Father,— Colbert the Indian chief,
for such seemed to be the napae and character of him
with whom she had had the above mentioned conversa^
tion, leaped to his feet and in great apparent fury of man
ner, uttering and jabbering threats, darted toward her;
waving his tomahawk high, over his head, and just as he
seemed to- be about to' strike. in. most destrwctiTC fury, the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 243
victim before him, at a concerted sign made by Capt.
Ashby, they each drew up their rifles, selected severally
their mark, and fired. Colbert instantly fell pierced
throughithe heart and never breathed again. Chickfos,
another Indian, fell at the crack of. Porter's rifle shot
through the abdomen, and the white man, named Ben.
James,- fell at the fire of Wells. The third Indian being
untouched, with a hideous yell leaped into the river,
dived and was not seen again. Capt. A. ran to where
the dead Indian, Colbert lay, seized the cable by which
the canoe was fastened to the shore, drew it quickly to
him, cut the cord by which she was bound, lifted her out
and tried to place her on her feet, but seeming stunned,
she sank to the ground and would have fallen into the
water had he not caught her in his arms and bore her up
the bank.
Wells finding Ben. only badly bounded, bore him up
to the shade of a large beech tree, laid him down, got
water in his hat from the river, washed his face and
poured a little into his mouth. Presently he spoke and
began to beg in' English for his life.
It was nob long either before the girl seemed to awake
to a better' sense of what was done — still, however, in
g*eat fright. Most scrutinizirigly and imploringly she
looked into the face of the old soldier, and deeitiing by that
look to become satisfied he was not her enemy, she sank
oh her knees before him and being unable to speak the
English language, or more than imitate a1 few words,
grasped his hand, crying, father, O father ! and by ges-
ttites more than words, implored1 his mercy and protec
tion. He again raised her to her feet and finding sh£
could stand and walk, he conducted her to his cane shel
ter. Wells came in, andj in her own language, informed
her who her deliverers were, assured her of their protec
tion and friend&bip. She wept and shouting aloud, clap-
ed her hands and began to return thanks to the Virgin,

244 LEGENDS OF THE
who had heard, as she said, her prayers and sent the de
liverance desired.
"Oh," said Wells, "do you believe that Mary the
mother of Jesus, sent us in answer to your prayer I
heard you make just before we shot the Indians, to
deliver you?" She answered in the affirmative.
"Well," said he, (in her own language) u- we English
don't believe such things as that, — we ask help in such
cases of the Almighty himself; and if we get aid, we be
lieve we must get it alone from God. Well, I don't
know, nor talk much about such things ; but we want
you to tell us now who you are — where you are from and
how you came here ? "
She replied her name was Salona Maron, the oldest
daughter of M. Maron — her father, who lived a merchant
at Kaskaskia. He was born in France, lived in New Or
leans where she, her little sister and brother were born,
and he had been four or five years living in Kaskaskia,
trading for furs and skins and selling goods to the Indi
ans. That a great number of the Indians from many
tribes came there. That some three weeks back these
three Indians and Ben. the white man, together with a
great many more came to trade, bringing much peltry
and fur; that Colbert had offered, as her father told her,
to give all the fur and skins if he would sell her to him,
to be his wife ; that her father had indignantly rejected
his offer and refused to let him into his house any more.
She said Colbert had six months before been at Kaskas
kia, and wanted her to agree , to go and live with him
and be his squaw. But rejected by her father and forbid
fo come into his house any more, Colbert sent Ben. the
white man, to court her for him, who could talk some
French. He got an opportunity to talk. to her, stated
that Colbert was his wife's brother, a great warrior.
Chickasaw chief was a mighty man and mighty rich ;
owned forty negroes, had a heap of money, skins and

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 245
fur ; would give all to her if she would go home with
him and be his squaw. That she told him she would
not. She would rather be killed and she wanted him to
tell Colbert so. That three days after she went with her
little brother to get some green corn from the field a half
mile from the town ; and so soon as they got into the
high corn the two Indians that was killed ran up to them
and with a great club knocked her brother in the head
and she believed killed him, seized her and with her
handkerchief, which she wore covering her bosom, tied up
her mouth so that she could not speak; took her up and
run with her out into the prairies for a good distance,
where they had two horses, threw her up into the arms
of Colbert, started in a gallop, and, in about a half a day,
brought her to the river, where Ben. with two other In
dians were with two canoes waiting ; sent the horses off
by one of those Indians, cooked some meat, eat it and in
a great hurry started down the river in the canoes, tying
her fast in one of them and thus brought her in two or
three days to where she was rescued.
Here she paused and burst into tears, and began to
plead with them to take her back to her father and moth
er. She said O, if they would only do that her father
would make them all rich — give them his store and
everything. Capt. A. who with great interest listened
to what she related, having it from time to time interpre
ted and explained to him by Wells, said :
" By zooks, I should not know how to begin to charge
for any such thing as that, my pretty little gal, even if we
could take you back. Our fix is a pretty bad one too.
We've got to fight our way back to Virginia some way,
and can only get there I reckon by keeping the river
down to New Orleans, and get round over that part of
the sea on some ship or something else, and get home
some way."
Understanding the captain to speak of going to New
Orleans, she smiled with evident delight and new im-

246 LEGENDS OF THE
pulses of hope and joy ; and with a countenance highly
expressive of gratitude, looking at the generous old sol
dier, she said she had an uncle at New Orleans, a rich
merchant, and if they would take her to him he would
reward them. She told them she understood Capt. A. to
talk of his home in Virginia. Heard and said that at
Kaskaskia, she had learned from some Cherokees, that
Ben. was born in Virginia. When about eighteen years
old, going to some town with his father, they were atr
tacked by a party of Cherokee warriors; his father killed,
and be taken by them. Carrying him to their town.
they were about to burn him and two others, and to have
a great frolic and dance, to which many Indians from
several nations were come to enjoy the sport, when a
pretty Chickasaw squaw, the daughter of a chief, saw
him, fell in love with him, bought him, took him to her
father's town, married him, and had been his wife ever
since. " Well, well," said Ashby, " this is a strange story.
If he did come from Virginia, I'll go and see from what
part he was taken. I have certainly seen some one in
my time that he looks like ; but he's got so sun-burnt
and yellow you can hardly tell if he is a white man or
Indian." And so he went to the place where he, Porter, and the
wounded white man were lying on the ground, in the
shade of a beach tree. Coming near to them he said :
" Well, old fellow, you are paying rather severely for
being found in bad company this morning, and I want to
hear how you are, where you are from, and all about you.
The young gal tells me you came from Virginia— 4s it
so?" j
Ben. looked at him very steadfastly for a while, as if
intending to fathom his purpose before answering, or
studying how he should respond.
" Come, tell me, what is your name, and where are
you from ? "

WAB OF .INDEPENDENCE. 247
"My name," he said, "is Ben. James.. I came from
Virginia— where did you come from ? "
" From Virginia," said the Captain—" what county ?"
" I believe they called' the county Forkyiar. It's been
fifteen years since I left there, but I remember there was
a place they called Forkyiar Court-house, close by where
my father lived."
" Was your father's name John James ? I remember
John James, who, it was said, was killed by the Indians,
over the ridge, about fifteen or twenty years ago ; was he
your father ? Was you the son he had with him going
over to Abington % V Ben. rose up as well as he could,
being badly wounded in the shoulder, looked again with
great earnestness at the Captain, and answered :
" It was me."
" By zooks," said the old man, " I knowed your daddy
and mama, and all of them, and I reckon I had seen you,
too, but I had forgot you. O ! I knowed your brother
Jonathan, well. He went under me on Braddock's cam
paign, where we all got licked so. Well, where have
you been all this time, and how came you out with those
Indians that we killed this morning ? I want you now to
tell me everything about it.
" I have told you," he said, " my father and I was go
ing to see his brother at Abington. He was shot by the
Indians — Cherokee warriors. They took me and tied my
hands behind my back, then packed everything upon me,
and whert I got so tired I could not run fast, they jabbed
sharp sticks in me to make me run faster, and made me
bleed all over. I thought I would die. I fainted two or
three times. Then they took the packs off of me, and I
went better. In three days we got to their town \, they
called it Nickajack. Kept me very close about three
weeks, and treated me very well that time. They had
two more prisoners when I got there — an old man with a
grey head, and a mighty pretty Carolina gal. So one
day when all the Indian* from all the nations around

248 LEGENDS OF THE
come, and their squaws too, they told us they were going
to burn us, and brought us up tied where all the Indians
had gathered round in a ring — the squaws was thar too —
one squaw, mighty pretty, come up to me, talked Indian.
I could'nt know what she said. I know now though.
She said, " pretty white boy, Cassata loves you," — that
was her name. She was the old chief Chickatomo's
daughter. She then took hold of my nose and pulled it,
and then both of my ears, and did like she was going to
pull me along with her. Then she left me and went to
one of the oldest warriors, along when they took me pris
oner, and they talked Indian a long time. I and the other
prisoners stood and said nothing. They looked mighty
pale and skeared. I felt so too. Cassata come back to
me again and two young Cherokee squaws with her.
This time she cut the string that bound my bands, took
hold of my hand and pulled me along with her as she
went back to the Indian ring, talking to me all the time
Chickasaw, and motioning me to follow her. At first I .
did'nt understand her, and the other two squaws got be
hind me and shoved me along. She told me she had
bought me and wouldn't let me be burnt, and I must go
along with her and live with her in her wigwam all the
time. So she took me home with her to her father's
Chickatomo's town. She loved me, often told me so, and
had saved my life. I loved her, too, very much. I mar
ried her, lived with her. She gave me two mighty pretty
boys at first, and a pretty little squaw baby last, — no
more." " But," said the Captain, " what was done with the
gray headed prisoner and the Carolina gal ? Did they
burn them ? "
" I saw them burn the old man. Poor old man ! how
he halloed before he died ! But a large, young Creek
warrior, Wishita, they called him, bought her, too, and
took her away with him."
" But," said the old soldier, " why did you go with

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 249
those Indians to Kaskaskia and steal off this young
French gal from her father and mother ? I expect, though,
you have got to be as bad as any of the cussed Indians
by this. time."
" Colbert, the big Indian you killed this morning,"
said Ben., " is Cassata's brother, Ohickatomo is bis fa
ther, too. He, last Spring, was up at Kaskaskia, trading
skins ; saw Salona Maron, and loved her mighty much.
She was just got to be a woman. He loved her, he said,
and wanted her to go with him to his town and be his
squaw. She would not go, run off and wouldn't let him
see her any more. He come back and said to me, that
she was so pretty he would kill himself if she would not
come and be his squaw. He studied hard about it, and
shortly afterwards, with a large number of his warriors,
hejwent high up the Arkansas. Hunted and trapped a
long time — brought a heap of skins and furs home, and
said to me, ' Ben., I am going again to Kaskaskia to buy
Salona Maron of her father, and give him all these skins
and furs to bring her to my wigwam^ and if I cannot get
her to go with me, I will shoot'myself.'
" He wished me to go with him and try and get her
consent. I went with him, talked to her for him, but she
refused, and her father would hot sell her, but drove him
off. She said she would rather die, herself. I studied
what Colbert had better do, and at last told him he would
have to steal her. I told him how he must contrive it.
Three days after he did steal her from the corn-patch, and
I hurried to the river with the Indians, one of which he
sent the horses back by, and so we came down the river
to where you found us." <
" But when 1 first found you on the river this morning,"
said Ashby, "you and the three Indians seemed to be
quarreling and acted as if about to fight, — what was the
cause of that ? "
"OI" said he, "Colbert saw the other Indian that
you killed at the fire of the guns to-day, who was in the

250 LEGENDS OF THE
canoe with her, trying to hug and kiss the gal last night,
and when we got to the point, he said he would kill him
or kill the gal. I tried to prevent his killing the Indian,
and he said the gal loved me more than him, and he
would shoot me, but went to the canoe to talk to her
again, and was talking to her when your guns fired."
" But, Ben, do you think that Indian who jumped into
the river when you were shot, and was never seen again
by any of us, was drowned ? or did he just dive till he
got out of sight, and then swim to the shore ? "
Fully for the space of a minute he only looked at the
Captain without giving an answer, and then said: "I
have told you my name, and all about my father. You
say you know him — now tell me your name and where
you knew him, and then I'll tell you where the Indian,
that jumped into the river, went to."
"O, my name," he answered, "is Jack Ashby. And
I knew your father in Fauquier county, Virginia, where
I now live when I am at home."
Ben. looked at him from head to foot— sat silent for a
minute or more — seemed; puzzled in mind some way. At
last ne said, " I remember to have heard when I was a
little boy that a man called Ashby, rode in a half a day
two hundred miles to tell the Governor, I think it was,
at the big town away down the country, something about
Braddock — are you the Ashby ? "
" Yes, I am the man — now tell me," he said, " what
you think became of that Indian ? — was he drowned, or
where do you think he went ? "
" He went to his town, Chickabeauff, where he and the
other Indians lived, and where I and my squaw and ba
bies live."
" How far is it, that is, how many miles is it to that
town ? "
" I don't know," he said, " how many miles it is ; it
will take him two days to go there and back."
" Is he coming back ? " said the Captain.

W.AE OF INDEPENDENCE. 251
Ben looked him full in the face and said : " Will you
take me to my home at Chickabeauff ? "
" How," replied the Captain, " am I to take you there I
-"-Is it on any river ? Now, Ben. James, I think I un
derstand you. You are fearing I will shoot you or do
some other injury to yon so you will be kept from getting
back to your squaw and children, and are hoping that
the diving Indian got across the river, and will be able
to bring Indians back with him to release you and take
us all prisoners, or kill us all. You need not fear this.
If you think you are able with the wound you are suffer
ing, to get home, I will put you across the river and you
can go where you please. We cannot carry you in our
pirogue, as there is not room for more than four of us,
with the baggage, and I shall take the French girl to
New Orleans with me. So when we go you will have to
shift for yourself. We must go anyhow. But I want
you to tell me now whether you hope the Indian will
give the alarm and return with a number of Indians to
rescue you and take us or kill us ? "
Ben. enquired if the Indian did not yell the Indian
war whoop when he leaped into the water ?
"He did," replied Ashby, "a most terrible yell ; and
then sunk and we saw him no more."
"Well," said Ben., "that was the war-whoop, and he
will come back as quick as he can."
During this long chat between the Captain and Ben.
James, Porter continued to sleep on the ground, and
Wells and the girl remained, conversing in the hut.
Ashby stepped to Porter, awoke him, and he arose, his
face wonderfully flushed with fever and an aflection re
sembling croup or quinzy. He cculd scarcely speak so
as to make himself understood.
Together they entered the hut and found Wells and Sa
lona Maron engaged in preparing and spreading a plain
though substantial dinner for themselves and friends.
Captain A. spoke immediately to his companions of the

252 LEGENDS OF THE
conversation he had had with Ben. James, — of what he
had said would be the purpose and action of the Indian
who had jumped into the river ; also the fears he himself
entertained that he would, if they did not as soon as
practicable get off from that place, return with a com
pany of Chickasaw warriors, and kill or take them all
prisoners. He said :
" We must start down the river as soon as we eat
something:. But then what shall we do with Ben. James ?
In his present condition, if we put him over the river, he
could scarcely make out to get to his town, and if we
leave him here, ip would be to starve, unless the Indians
he expects come and relieve him. In our pirogue there
is not room to take him with us, and besides, he will be
unwilling to go with us to New Orleans."
" Oh," said Wells, " we can make him get in one of
the canoes left by the Indians at the point ; tie it to our
pirogue and carry him with us till he gets able to foot it,
any way, if he wont go all the way with us, and so then
get to his town ; or else just shoot him and put him out
of his misery."
" 0 no ! " said the old captain, " that I could not con
sent to. He has lived with the Indians, it is true, till he
is altogether as tricky and dangerous as one himself.
Has a wife and children among them, for whom he seems
to entertain so much affection, that he will not be willing
to leave them. He is the son of an old and very clever
father I once knew, in my county in Virginia, and has
brothers and sisters there, clever people. We must not
treat him with any cruelty. For he suffers now a good
deal from the wound he got this morning, in the shoulder,
and I reckon we must endeavor to take him with us, for
a while, at least, in the way you speak of, Wells."
" Well, Captain," said Wells, " I will go down to the
point right away and see if the pirogue and canoes are
all safe, and get back while the young girl is fixing up
the dinner, so that we can be off directly after we eat it."

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 253
While he was gone to the poiut, Captain Ashby ob
served the appearance of Porter to be that of a very sick
man, under the influence of a most distressing fever, and
complaining in much, apparent agony of a pain in the
head. He explained to him his intention of starting from
that place ina short time, and the cause. Porter, how
ever, suffered so much that he could scarcely compre
hend what was said, and only replied he could not live, and
especially, exposed to the intense heat of the sun in the
pirogue. Wells soon returned, and said the pirogue and
the Indian canoes were all at the point ; but that the
wounded Indian whom they had left on the shore, be
lieved to be dying, had risen, and contrived to drag Col
bert, shot through the heart by Captain Ashby, into one
of the canoes, and was there himself, evidently dying, ly
ing by his side.
" Poor wretches," said the captain, " such is not an
uncommon virtue with the Indians generally in regard to
their dead or dying. They always make a like effort, as
I learn, to get, off or hide them, so intense is their dislike
of leaving them to be scalped by their enemies. Well,
we must now hasten our dinner and get away from this
place, as we are constantly in danger of an attack from
some party or other of them coming to this point, upon
one or other of these rivers."
Accordingly they hastily partook of the dinner, of
which they scrupulously gave to Ben. James a reasona
ble share' of the best and most delicate portions, and all
hastened with their share of baggage and the residue of
the dinner prepared yet unconsumed, together with their
small store of venison, turkies, &c. yet remaining.
Porter was still very ill, having been unable to par
take of any portion of the food prepared, and being now
barely able to walk, while Ben. James, whose complaint
of great pain from his wound, cheerfully agreed, when the
plan of Captain Ashby was explained to him, to accom-

254 LEGENDS OF THE
pany them to the Chickasaw Bluffs. Indeed, he said he
would like to go to Virginia with Captain Ashby if he
was well of the wound he had got, and if he could only
see his squaw awhile before he went. That since the
talk he had had with him about his brothers and sisters
there, he felt more desire to see them again than he had
felt for many years.
When they reached the point they found the two Indi
ans on one of the canoes, as Wells had represented, only
that they were both entirely dead ; and the old captain
expressed himself mortified at being obliged to leave
them unburied. He said they were human beings ; and
however prejudiced he might feel against them when liv
ing, — disposed to shoot or otherwise put it totally out of
their power to do any farther injury — yet when dead,
though savages, they were as harmless as any other dead
men, and their claims upon his sympathies just as great.
Wells told him, even if they had time, they had no hoe
or spade, or anything else with which to dig a grave.
He thought, however, they could easily sink them to the
bottom of the river, by putting some laf ge rocks in the .
canoe ; and while they would thereby be protected from
vultures and other animals of prey, they would serve the
fish awhile for food without doing anybody any harm.
This they concluded to do, and in a few minutes two
large rocks were procured from a convenient quarry,
placed in the canoe, down it went on being pushed out a
little from the shore, and no more was seen of the Chick
asaw ohief, Colbert, and his savage companion.
The party then instantly renewed their journey down
to New Orleans— Salona Maron, Porter, and Wells in
the pirogue with Captain Ashby, and Ben. James in the
Indian canoe, lashed to the pirogue. Nothing of any in
teresting character occurred till they reached the Chicka
saw bluffs on the evening of the second day ; having
traveled day and night, never landing; seeing, however,

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 255
frequently, on the shore, Indians secreting themselves
behind trees, as they glided' along in the middle of the
stream ; and having a hostile appearance.
All the way Porter grew worse and worse. There be
ing no medicine on board, they could administer nothing
to ameliorate in the slightest degree the raging fever
upon him, and, with which he was threatened with im
mediate destruction. By the time they reached the bluffs,
all believed his death in a very short time was inevitable.
He was totally insane and destitute of the knowledge of
anything. At that place Captain Ashby determined to
land on the western bank of the river, as be supposed
the eastern bank the most dangerous, being so contigu
ous to the habitations of the Chickasaw and Choctaw In
dians. Here they built a temporary covering as at the
mouth of the Ohio. Every attention was shown to poor
Porter. Salona, true to all the sympathy and tenderness
of her sex, unceasingly stood or seated herself by his side.
Often dipped from the river, water, and bathed his head,
hands and. feet, burning with fever; while to the«most
distressing and alarming extent he raged and screamed
with delirium. He often talked of his home, his family
and friends ; would seem to converse with his wife and
children, fancying they were present, and addressing
them sometimes with all the affection and expression of
countenance the tenderness of paternal affection could
indicate in words or gestures which, although she did not
understand the language employed, repeatedly excited
her to tears ; and when he spoke of his home, his wife,
and his children, even the veteran Ashby shed many
tears. But the sympathy, care, and tears of his friends
could not avail ; and on the morning of the second day
after their arrival at the bluffs, he breathed his last. >
Now a like difficulty occurred to Captain Ashby and
Wells, to that in respect to the burial of the two Indians
at the mouth of the Ohio. Common humanity moved
their solicitude to give something like a decent burial to

256 LEGENDS OF THE
the bodies of the Indians ; but now poor Porter, their
friend, the companion of their enterprise, sharer of their
peculiar dangers and distresses, had also died. His mor
tal remains alike invoked a decent interment. It was,
however, being unable to avail themselves of any instru
ments by which to excavate a grave, determined to place
his body in the remaining Indian canoe and sink it to the
bottom of the turbid Mississippi, and so in a few minutes
it was in much solemnity interred, and not without
tears gushing from the pretty blue eyes of Salona and
from those of his hardy companions. Even Ben. James,
who received his most painful wound (so far as he knew)
at the hands of the deceased, seemed to weep a little and
exhibit a countenance of much seriousness.
Immediately after this scene, the two travelers, Ashby
and Wells, began to think and prepare for the further
pursuit of their journey. The first thing to be done was
to dispose of Ben. James. When they first came to the
Chickasaw bluffs, the captain deemed it most prudent not
to let him go till they were ready to leave themselves,
lest he, before their friend Porter had died or grown bet
ter so as to enable them to proceed, should inform the Indi
ans of their presence at that point and induce an attack ; but
now they were prepared to set off, how should they dis
pose of him ? They then told him he might, if he choose,
be set over on the Chickasaw bank," go, if he was able, to
his town, or go with them to New Orleans. Ben. choose
the former, and after thanking them for the care they had
bestowed upon him, and requesting the Captain to in
form his relatives in Virginia of his being yet alive, and
his place of residence, bade them and the young lady
farewell, and being taken to the bluff he started for hie
home. In a short, time our friends were rapidly rowing their
little bark down the rapid current of the great father of
waters. In ten days' sail they reaohed Natchez, where
they landed for a few hours to enable them to lay in a

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 257
supply of comforts and provisions for the balance of the
trip to New Orleans.
In three days they reached its levee without having any
occurrence of an interesting character on the way, travel
ing day and night, as the nights were calm and clear, and
the moon shone with more than her ordinary brilliancy.
Having found the family of M. Maron, the uncle of Sa
lona Maron, that is, his widow and two children, he hav
ing died the year previous at Cuba, they received her and
her two friends with cordiality and treated them during
their. stay with marked hospitality and politeness.
At New Orleans our friends remained for five weeks,
being, unable sooner to procure a passage through the
Gulf upon any vessel to the Southern or South-western
part of the Atlantic on the Continent of North America.
There they bid farewell to their pretty little Salona, who,
from some intelligence received from Kaskaskia, hoped
shortly to be sent for by her father and to reach her home
again in a few-months. She seemed greatly affected at
their departure, wept much, and having by this time at
tained a slight knowledge of the English language, em
ployed it all in expressing her grateful obligations to the
old captain for his kind and very parental care for her
safety and comfort, as well as in her native language, the
gratitude due to the kindness of Wells.
They were in three weeks landed at St. Augustine,
where they were necessarily detained for weeks seeking
a vessel by which to reach Charleston, or Savannah, or
some other point more contiguous to their home in Vir
ginia. At St. Augustine Captain Ashby was so unfor
tunate as to have to bury, also, his last companion in this
most tedious and adventurous trip to the wilderness of the
West. They had not been at St. Augustine but little more
than a week ere Wells was attacked with a most virulent
and strange fever, and in a few days brought to his grave.
To one of less sturdy nerve this was, indeed, calculated
to overwhelm, embarrass and afflict the mind; but al-
17

LEGENDS OF THE
though the old soldier felt as intensely as was by any
means reasonable, still he was not wholly discouraged,
and in two weeks embarked in a small trading sloop, and
after considerable and frequent delays at different points,
landed at Norfolk, Virginia, from whence in about a
month from the time of his embarkation at St. Augustine,
he- reached his home in Fauquier county. He found his
wife, who had never heard from him from the time of his
departure — having been gone more than two years, and
she fully believing he had perished.
Many other incidents and adventures of this brave old
soldier might yet be recorded, but we forbear at this time.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 259

CHAPTEE XXII.

Thos. McClanahan, another native Virginian — Incidents of his boy
hood — His skill and perseverance as a huntsman — Chases a buck
on foot six miles — Runs him into a farmer's cellar, where he is
found next morning; killed and taken home in triumph^Tom, at
the age of eighteen leaves his home, and joins the continental
army — Travels one hundred miles on foot to whip a man who in
sulted his father, and having done so, immediately returns — Is en
gaged in the battles of Brandywine, Morristown, Monmouth, and
Trenton — Returns home after the surrender of Cornwallis— Re-
news his acquaintance with Miss Ann Green — Courts her — Asks
the consent of her brother, Col. Robert Green — Is refused.

"Youth's dreams are but flutterings
Of those strong wings whereon the soul shall soar
In after-time to win a starry throne.
The future works out great men's destinies ;
The present is enough for common souls.*' — Lowell.
Thomas McClanahan, the oldest son of the Kev. Wil
liam McClanahan of the Baptist Church, was born about
the year 1754-'5, in Westmoreland county, Virginia, and
was about eighteen years old, when the battles at Lex
ington and Bunker's Hill were fought. His earliest in
dications of mind and character in future life, were those
of a great devotion to all the amusements common to boys ;
particularly those requiring the greatest activity, adven
ture and hassard, and, an unabating thirst for fun, sport,
and amusement. He was particularly fond of the chase,
and with his pack of hounds in pursuit of the fox or deer,
when only ten or twelve years old, he would1 follow on
foot, from early day until night,— contriving, to the as
tonishment of all acquainted with the fact, to "come in
at the death," to use the fox hunter's phrase, as early as

260 LEGENDS OF THE
any of the gentleman who were mounted upon their fleet
est and best trained hunters.
On one occasion, hearing his hounds upon a full cry,
as he and several believed who joined in the sport, after
a fox — he on foot and they well mounted, — they pursued
for several hours before it was discovered they were in
full chase of a deer. All the others immediately de
clined further following the cry, believing it was useless.
But little Tom, still followed on, hissed on and encouraged
his dogs, — now greatly wearied and dispirited. Still
the most faithful and enduring of them, kept up the pur
suit and on they went, and the bounding buck being at a
little past sunset, sadly wearied and severely pressed by
the pack, for safety and shelter leaped into a gentleman's
cellar. Into the cellar the dogs went also ; and, when
their little master got up, they were yelling and terribly
worrying the buck. Calling them all off, with the
consent of the farmer, he closed the cellar-door, and left
old antler to rest himself as well as he could in his new
ly chosen quarters, until morning.
That night at about eight o'clock, he reached home on
foot, a distance of five or six miles from where he caged
the buck, astonishing his father and mother with a detail
of his wonderous feat. His father was wholly incredulous
to his narrative; and being himself a man of scrupulous
truthfulness, hating a falsehood most cordially in any
one, but especially this as he thought in his promising
boy. It is very probable, but for the timely interference of
the mother and her exhortations to his father, to await
the discoveries he might make in the morning of the truth
or falsehood of his statement, he would forthwith have
shown that he was not disposed to "spare the rod and
spoil the child," but practice upon the monition of Solo
mon and the doctrines it was designed to teach in paren
tal discipline. However, the mother's teaching — pursu
ant to the wise maxim of Davy Crockett, being of a wiser
practical applicability ; " be sure you are right and then

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 261
go ahead," — prevailed, and the tired boy was let go to
his bed that night with an unstriped night-shirt, to await
the development of the morning.
At early daylight the parson set out with Tom, to seek
the truth of the matter. At the house of Capt. Gibson,
peeping into his cellar, they discovered his buckship
by his shining eyes wide awake, and awaiting his visitors,
to. the great gratification of the parental heart, and the
proud triumph of the brave boy. Quickly the game was
throttled and prepared, secundem artem, to be transported
to the home of the mother and all the family, to give to all,
not excluding the courageous pack, joy and gladness,
which the latter most unmistakably evidenced in the
loudest yells and howls of applause.
At school our young hero was not considered nor post
ed as a dunce or even a dull boy, but as dedicating all
his capabilities and time, to sport of some sort or other,
and in pranks and sportive tricks, upon his school fel
lows, which they all were at perfect liberty at all times
to return good humoredly without the least hazard of
giving offence to him. . But if one or a half-dozen of
them, at a time, took offence at any of his sportive pranks
or tricks, and angrily resented, or attempted retaliation
in anger, woe be unto them all. No school discipline or
law, or scarcely parental command and authority, could
stay his vigilant hand from administering the most
prompt and severe punishment. An awful thrashing was
the inevitable consequence, unless speedy concession or
honorable reparation was made. Then, instantly, the
fullest forgiveness and restoration to favor would as cer
tainly follow.
His scholastic attainments were but small; although
his sensible and judicious father, would have delighted
much in extending his opportunities for learning, to the
placing him in the best schools of that early day. But
for study and learning he never showed the least fancy
or relish. A game of play, or amusements of rough roll

262 LEGENDS OF THE
and tumble ; a foot race, a mateh at fisticuffs, or fox or
deer chase, ever had the greatest charms for him ; and
would not be foregone for the acquirements of any knowl
edge from books. His parents having the ability to in
dulge him with time and leisure, to gratify his passion
for any or all of those amusement, they constituted al
most his entire employments. It was the surprise of all
who were made acquainted with his wonderful feats in
following his hounds, in a deer or fox chase, for whole
days. When asked the way in which he bore and ac
complished it, or .bow he had trained himself to be able
to bear it, he mainly accounted for it by referring to his
early habits of practising long races, refusing to drink
water or anything else, to quench the thirst that naturally
occurred. He relieved thirst most readily and effectually
by plucking, as he ran, (almost everywhere to be found
in forest or field,) the leaves of the cornei cervinum, or
white .plantain, as it is commonly called — chewing them
and swallowing the juice, expressed as he ran.
At the age of seventeen he went to his parents to per
mit him to join in the service of the country. He had
often, before, even at the age of sixteen, urged his parents
to consent ; but they invariably refused him. Having
now passed his seventeenth year, he' insisted, as his be
loved country needed his services, and as he possessed
the health and constitutional vigor and activity to render
the most effective aid in the glorious cause of liberty,
they ought to consent. " At all events," he said to his
father, " it is my intention to go with or without your
consent, and I must employ the best means I can to pro
cure the necessary equipage expenses to the army."
To this candid declaration of his purpose, neither of
his parents replied, and left him to his own reflections.
Still he was resolved to go. The more he thought of it,
the more increased was his anxiety to be a soldier in
his country's cause.
In a few days, therefore, having borrowed a small sum

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 26.3
of his neighbor, Capt, Thomas Gibson, together with his
saddle and bridle, he was one morning missed from home,
together with his father's fine rifle and fine young blood
mare. Little doubt, however, was entertained by fa
ther or mother, that he was off in fulfilment of his deter
mination to go to the army, somewhere. They were not
mistaken. Having learned that his uncle, Col. Thomas
Marshall, with his regiment, was posted at or near Wil
liamsburg: — thither he went with all practicable speed,
and having made himself known to the colonel, and re
ceived the appointment of corporal, in one of his compa
nies, became at once, somewhat noted ; but more for his
tricks and pranks and love of fun, than for any indica
tions of military prowess and discretion.
In Col. Marshall's regiment, in two battles, he had
fought bravely, before his family at home knew where he
was. Nay, the first reliable intelligence they had of him,
was brought them by a neighbor, who happened at Fred
ericksburg, about thirty-five miles from the home of the
father, and who told young McClanahan's parents, on re
turning home, that he had witnessed a most bloody pitched
battle between Tom and Peter McCormack ; that Tom.
having heard tbat Peter had abused, cursed, and at"
tempted to strike his father while conducting a meeting
of worshipers at the Baptist church of his neighborhood,
and having sent McCormack a challenge to meet him on
that particular day at Fredericksburg ; they met and
fought it out, Tom, giving him a most awful beating, al
though he had within three days before, under a brief fur
lough from his colonel, traveled on foot one hundred
miles to reach the appointed spot at the time specified.
He very soon set out for a return to his post at Wil
liamsburg, only addressing a brief note to his father, in
forming him and his mother of the meeting, the cause,
and the victory, without note or comment; apologizing
for his haste in returning, on the ground of the little time
he had in his furlough yet to run.

264 LEGENDS OF THE
A vast number of like instances could be mentioned as
occuring in the life of this truly brave young man, wherein
his feats of pugilism — now almost by every respectable
citizen regarded as disreputable, but then looked upon,
according to tbe prevailing fashions and customs of the
country in every circle of society, as altogether praise
worthy, making the greatest and most successful bully
the most respectable man — were very extraordinary. But
we shall not, here at least, pursue his history further in
detailing them.
In the continental service, Thomas McClanahan was
esteemed one of the best of soldiers ; always in battle
found at his post, and in the hottest of the fight. In gen
eral, in or out of the army, his personal encounters — and
they were remarkably numerous — found some palliation
in the fact that they were very seldom personal to him
self or on his own account, but on account of some other,
whose injury he resented, or whose cause he espoused.
About twelve months before the treaty of peace be
tween the colonies and the parent government, and the
acknowledgment of their independence, but subsequent
to the capture of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, where
McClanahan was present and took part in that most
crowning feat of the revolution — this young soldier left
the army and returned to his home at his father's, in
Culpepper county, Virginia. From a small boy he had
been acquainted with Miss Nancy Green, the orphan sis
ter of CoL Robert Green, of revolutionary notoriety, a
gallant officer, generally regarded as wealthy, neverthe
less proud and haughty in temperament, and who had
reared his sister as his own child from very tender years.
With Miss Green the young soldier, early after his return
to the neighborhood, renewed his acquaintance, — hav
ing from his boyhood felt the greatest attachment for her,
even when they were at school. While he was in the
army, often, very often, she was the subject of his most
cherished meditations and the object of his purest affec-

W.AB OF INDEPENDENCE. 265
tion. The bold soldier was not long in soliciting her
hand in matrimony, though he was yet in his minority,
and she only seventeen. To their union her brother was
bitterly opposed. To the refusal of this brother and
guardian, our hero coolly responded, that it was at least
his duty and altogether respectful for him to ask his con
sent ; but if Miss Nancy was the woman he judged her
to be, they would be married shortly, the colonel's objec
tion to the contrary notwithstanding.

266 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XXIII.

Young McClanahan informs his mother of his determination and
requests her assistance — She breaks the subject to her husband,
and they agree to provide their son with funds to consummate his
object — Miss Nancy and her lover fix upon the course they in
tend to adopt.

"When daylight was yet sleeping under the billow,
And stars in the heavens still lingering shone,
Young Kitty, all blushing, rose up from her pillow,
The last time she e'er was to press it alone ;
For the youth whom she treasured her heart and her soul in
Had promised to link the last tie before noon ;
And when once the young heart of the maiden is stolen,
The maiden herself will steal after it soon !
As she look'd in the glass, which a woman ne'er misses,
Nor ever wants time for a sly glance or two,
A butterfly, fresh from the night-flower's kisses,
Flew over the mirror, and shaded her view.
Enraged with the insect for hiding her graces,
She brushed him — he flew, alas ! never to rise.
"Ah ! such," said the girl, " is the pride of our faces,
For which the soul's innocence too often dies." — Moore.
In the evening of the day on which he had received
the haughty repulse of her brother, Thomas McClanahan,
sought and obtained an interview with the blushing
young maiden ; revealed to her the reception he had re
ceived; and told her the defiant answer he had made to
him. In all the calmness he could command, protesting
his undying attachmentfor her, he asked her if she would
make good his prediction of her course, and elope with
him across the Potomac and marry him as soon as he
could make all necessary arrangements? She blushed
and wiped from her rosy cheeks a few pearly drops ; then,

W.AE OF INDEPENDENCE. 267
with a tipaid glance at her lover's manly visage, fully ex
pressive of the fervency of his affection for her ; owned
he had for many years occupied and possessed her highest
regards, and said to him : " I will fulfill your prediction
to my brother. Choose your own time and I will not dis
appoint your expectations."
On his return home that evening, he related to his
mother his engagement to Miss Green ; the refusal to
their union on the part of her brother, dwelling with
some emphasis upon the abrupt and disparaging manner
in which he had given it — pretty directly basing his ob
jections upon the ground that his sister was of a family,
so much superior to him or any of his connections in rank,
if not fortune. His mother with dignified calmness lis
tened to bis relation ; and, seeming to meditate awhile on
all that he said in relation to what touched families
replied :
" I am surprised my son, at what you are stating. I
had not dreamed that young as you are, with all your
passionate fondness for sport and fun you had ever be
stowed a thought upon matrimony, or the ladies ; but did
Bob. Green, dare to intimate that the Greens claimed the
respectability of the Marshalls and Markhams, from
whom your mother is directly descended ? Well to me
that gives no little surprise! But his impudence and
presumption is only verifying what I said to your father
but a few days -since — -that this revolution would not only
produce a wonderful change in the political affairs of the
country, but give to the poorest and most plebian families
of the colony the right to claim equality and equal res
pectability with the first families of the land ; even though
such families as my own, were descended from the dukes
duches, and barons of England !" And, warming still
more and more as she spoke, she said, " Now, Thomas,
my son, I assure you, I am almost ready to say I am al
together opposed to your connecting yourself in any such
way with any such newly fledged pretenders to respecta-

268 LEGENDS OF THE
bility as the Greens are; and if your father, Parson
McClanahan, would join me, I would forbid it altogether
if I did not admire the dear girl so much myself. But
my son, what will you do — will you give it up ? I am
satisfied that the vulgar pride of Green, will make him
persevere in his opposition, and then what will you do? "
" Still have my own way, mother," he responded.
" There is only one difficulty in the way, and that is a
few hundred dollars are wanted."
" What for ?" asked his mother.
" Miss Green, mother, has already said she would be
mine, and go with me to Kentucky, or anywhere I wish
ed, when we were married ; but that can only be accom
plished by a trip across the Potomac and out of this
province ; as her brother who is her guardian Vill not
consent to our license here, and more than I now have
will be necessary for our equipage and expenses."
" Never fear about that, Thomas, your father will, I am
sure, attend to that. If, however, he will not, your
mother, since Bob. Green, has chosen to put his objec
tions upon the grounds of family respectability; will see
that it shall not be wanting, — a few hundred pounds will
suffice and show to that accidental Col. Green, that in her
veins runs the blood of the Marshalls and Markhams,
the descendants of England's proudest dukes, lords, and
barons ! "
Now Tom was fully satisfied he had touched the right
chord of his mother's usually unimpassioned mind, and
confidently believed what she had told him on the sub
ject of his getting the money requisite, from one or both
of his parents. Of his father's generous impulses he was
rather doubtful, unless he could obtain the aid of his
mother, who like every prudent wife always held and up
on an emergency could exercise an overweening influence
upon her husband, and, in such matters, a power quite
irresistable. " And now," he said to himself, " Col.
Green, will find I made no vain boast, when I told him I

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 269
should carry my point in spite of him. But what is bet
ter than all I shall prove to my Nancy, that she is giving
her hand * and plighting her fidelity in marriage to no
mere beardless boy, as her brother impudently hinted this
morning," That night, according to his anticipations, his mother
had a regular sitting with the sober and dignified old
parson her husband. She with no small degree of earn
est feeling, detailed to him their son's engagement ; his
appeal to the brother and guardian for his consent to the
union ; and with much of scorn and emphasis becoming
the proprieties of a true Virginia matron, told him of
" the impudent insinuation of Col. Bob. Green, that
Thomas' family and family connections, were not so res
pectable as the Greens, impudently calling our manly
soldier, a beardless boy ! "
"A beardless boy, did he say 2 " replied the parson,
and, after a slight interval he repeated " a beardless boy?
Ha-ha-haw-haw ! Now Molly, I'll just say to you, for I
would not like for Tommy to know that I said so, or
thought it, if Col. Green thinks him a beardless boy and
stands much in his way hereafter, large and haughty as
his colonelship, Bobby Green is, he'll find himself, one
of these days, terribly thrashed by the beardless ioy. I
I should regret it, even if he provokes it, yet you may be
sure of what I tell you. But did you not say that Green
cast reflections upon the respectability of Tommy's family
and his father and mother ? and rather grounded his re
fusing his consent on that reason ? Well, that takes me
altogether by surprise I For I have always thought few
of the first families of Virginia — no, not even the Fair
faxes, the Dunmores, Amblers, Keiths, or Randolphs,
could hold their heads above the Marshalls or Markhams,
your kin here, and in Europe. As for mine, they are,
except a very few, all in Europe also, they having hith
erto had so little sense, it is true, as to refuse to come to
this beautiful free country— yet I suppose loving and

270 LEGENDS OF THE
ready to fight, according to the old Scotch Church cove
nant, for the king and his babies. Yet I have always
heard they were honest. But, what does Tommy intend
to do now ? "
"Why," said the lady, " what would you expect, Mr.
McClanahan, he would do ? Did you ever know him
turned from what he had deliberately determined to ac
complish ? I love him for it ; only he does not deliberate
as he ought before he acts. But I'll tell you what he
said to the colonel's impudent refusal. He just calmly
told him he was determined to marry his sister in spite of
all he had said or could do, and so left him. He told me
such was still his purpose, but that he had not money to
bear his expenses to Dumfrieze, and then across into Ma
ryland with his pretty bride. Now, husband, this is
what I want particularly to talk" to you about. You may
be sure he will contrive to take away the girl, someway,
even though he has to hazard his own or Bob. Green's
life, and I can't bear the idea of his going off to get mar
ried dependent upon Green or anybody. For you may
be sure he loves the pretty girl too much to be turned
now. And besides, she is a good child, as I know. The
very best of all the Greens."
" Well now, wife," replied the worthy parson, " I am
not a proud man, I believe, but I feel pretty much like
you about this matter, and as Col. Green is pleased to put
on these airs, I will give the boy one hundred pounds,
anyway, and if I had my tobacco sold I would make it
one hundred and fifty pounds ; but 1 reckon that'll do for
the present with what he has of his own, and you can tell
him so. Yet don't hint to him what I said about his
whipping Green. He might suppose I wished him to do
it." " And," said the old lady, " I'll give the boy— what I

All this she hastened to communicate to her son, and
had the pleasure to witness the joy it imparted to him.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 271
He thanked and kissed his mother again and again, and
exclaimed, " O, my Nancy ! I have long since resolved
to make you all my own if I lived to get back from the
army ; and now I'll do it, stand who will in the way."
The next day he visited his kind old friends and neigh
bors, the Gibsons, enlisted the generous husband and
wife in his behalf,, and they dispatched a servant girl to
the colonel's with a secret message to Miss Green, to visit
them to tea that evening. Promptly she complied with
the request, and to her equal, at least, if not surpassing
gratification to that of her young and ardent lover, she
found him there. It was not long ere the young lovers
embraced an opportunity, in a walk to, and along the
banks of the Rappahanock — which beautifully coursed its
busy tide near to, and almost around, the fertile farm, of
their friends — to enter into a mutual detail of the events
which had occured since last they met, and sweetly com
mune on the prospects before them. Young McClana
han said :
" Come, tell me, dear Nancy, what the colonel, your
brother, has said to you in respect to our marriage ; and
whether he seems to be as much opposed as ever ? "
" I have not had any conversation with him since, but
once, and that was not long."
" But, dear girl," said he, " do you see you have not
answered my question ? Did your brother say anything
to you about my asking his consent to our union and my
answer to his objections ? Please let me know what he
said so I may be the better able to shape my course in
the future."
" O ! " she said, " I really can't remember all he said
about it. I confess, Thomas, I feel under obligations
from the relation, even now existing between us, and
from the reason you have just assigned, for your wishes
to know what my brother says, and how he feels in ref
erence to our engagement. To speak in great candor to

272 LEGENDS OF THE
you, though it be to expose my own brother's follies, but
I am not assured of your prudence in bearing it. If you
will promise to be counseled by me in respect to him,
and will at all times restrain and control your resentment
and too great an impulsiveness of feeling and action, I
will tell you all I recollect of what he said about us."
" Well, Miss Green, I promise upon the honor of a
gentleman all you require."
" I know, Mr. McClanahan, your natural sensitiveness
and the usual promptitude with which you are likely to
resent injury or insult ; I will, nevertheless, confide in
your word, and I must tell you, my impetuous brother
seems to entertain the bitterest hatred towards you, and
the most irreconcilable objection to our marriage. Here
let me stop, and please do not require me to say more.
My brother has always been tender, affectionate and kind
to me, from my earliest childhood ; and never, that I re
member, before last night, looked at me or ever spoke in
tones of disapprobation or reproof; but O ! my God " 
Here her voice ceased, and she wept silently for
several minutes. Wiping away her tears, however,
presently in a calmer spirit she said : "I have told you,
sir, sufficient to show his continued opposition, and all,
in substance, that you asked to know ; except one thing,
which, perhaps, you ought to be informed of."
" And what, dear Nanny, is that ?"
" He said if I did not then promise totally to discard
you, he would in a short time take me where you should
never find me."
" And did you promise him ? " he quickly asked.
" 0 ! Thomas, can you suspect I did ? Is not the free
dom with which I have spoken of our engagement, the
speed with which I hastened to attend our dear Mrs. Gib
son's invitation to tea this evening, assurance enough that
I did not, and could not so promise ? No,r— no ! I made
no such promise."
As she said this he drew the gentle maid closer to him,

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 273
gently pressed her panting bosom'to his own and kissed,
more than once, her blushing cheeks and ruby lips.
"But, dear Nancy,' did he say where he would take
you, and when ? "
" Nothing," she replied. " He left me soon after he
made the threat, and when he found I would give no
such promise, but spoke with firmness of my determina
tion to fulfill my engagement with you, 0 ! how dread
fully and bitterly he Btormed and raved, and talked of
vengeance. But, my dear friend, you must remember
your promise ! Remember it is his sister, who feels for
him a sister's love and a thousand obligations for favors
she has received at his hands, notwithstanding' his errors,
who pleads for him."
" Dear, affectionate, and grateful heart ! " said he, " I
love and prize you the more for this exhibition of your
generous nature ; and shall hope to profit by your discreet
example. For your brother's safety and entire escape
from all my vengeance, for his unjust insults and personal
abuse, an angel pleads, and makes the wolf a lamb, at
whose feet the lion, at your bidding, will meekly crouch.
" Yet, dear girl, we have not said a word on the subject
of our marriage — or when and where you will be made
wholly mine ? Your brother and guardian will, I am
now convinced, never yield consent. Nay, will, instead
thereof, studiously labor to make it impossible, as you
have already declared, and, doubtless, he has ere this, re
solved to place you secretly beyond my reach, and will
speedily attempt to execute his plans. I fear not, though
he can ultimately succeed, or ever hide you from my love.
But as even in the assurance of' certain ultimate victory
and success, the discreet general will still choose between
the various means, to avoid the incidents of postpone
ment and expense, I think we had better marry at once;
and put an end to all his schemes to thwart our wishes."
"I have already," she replied, "promised to be sub>-
18

274 LEGENDS OF THE
ordinate to your wishes in that regard. I have no choice
as to when or where. But, Thomas, you have not yet
said anything as to the mind of your own respected pa
rents, who, so far as I know, still, as your natural guar
dians, hold a legal and reasonable control over you, while
under age. Are they Willing to receive me, the defence
less and almost penniless orphan, ap their daughter-in-
law?" " Aye, dearest girl, most willingly: Indeed, only fancy
how my mother's sweet words in your praise, when I first
mentioned our engagement to her, thrilled my soul with
delight ! She spake of her knowledge and respect fon
your long lost mother ere your birth and up to her death
— that she had always known and loved her little or
phaned Nancy for her mother's and her own sake ; and
when I told her of your brother's objections and the
grounds he suggested for his opposition, the true mother's,
heart, wi|h the strongest impulses beat, and she told me,
at once, not to fear— ra mother's and a father's liberal
hands should be stretched forth to supply me in all neces-
essary aids. To-day she told me she had spoken to my
father in regard to it, and my wants, and delivered my
father's message that he would enable me to go ahead."
" Dear and most generous friends ! May Heaven's
smiles ever reqp upon them," she exclaimed; *'and did
your kind mother, the friend of my long sainted parent,
say that she knew and loved her for her virtues ? Q !
these words shed bright sun-shine into my sometimes
darkened apd lonely soul, and drop the sweetest and rich/
est aroma, as it were, into a heart that has often almost
desponded I AH is well, then, dear friend. Your mo
ther's kindness to me has long been known and greatly
prized and appreciated ; but yet, I trembled lest I might
be regarded as ap intruder into her family."
"Oh! in that light. I am sure she could never regard
you, dear Nancy. But let, us, dear girl, determine upon

WAB OR'lNDBJPWifinJSNCE. 27§<
ou-u future course; you aire willing tbatf I. shal-lf direct* the
time and; plac©, you say^ of oiip marriage % It- remains,
therefore, for us to determine the- means by which; w<e>
may escape .< yjouu brothej'fe interference.,. We? mnsfc, elope
to some one.on ©then ofi. the., adjoining Stated; in, thi§,w^
cannot obtain license. To elope to Maryland — about ftst^
miles distant, we must now settle how we shall effect
it. My opinion is, to avoid difficulty with the colonel,
your brother, we must not let many days pass ere we go.
For my part, I can be ready by next Sunday, which is
now four days off. Can you consent to that time, and
will you suggest where on that day — morning, noon, or
night — you will meet me ? For I should not be able to
come to your brother's for you, as I might have to encoun
ter his insults and personal interference, and do not wish
to come into collision with him, as I hope to keep my
pledge to you in regard to him. I could not trust myself
in that case. I even fear you will be so closely watched
that you will not be in future permitted to visit your kind
friend, Mrs. Gibson, unguarded. When, then, will we
meet, prepared to set out ? Of course, you will be accom
panied by some lady friend in the trip. I shall get young
Jonathan James to accompany us."
" O ! Mr. McClanahan, these are things of which I have
scarcely thought before, and am much at a loss now to an
swer your questions. But I will endeavor to do so. I
will meet you at the back of my brother's barn, which is,
you know, near to the grove of pines that skirts the west
ern side of his farm ; and do not doubt I can bring along
with me the beautiful Miss Polly Wright. We will meet,
if you please, at the hour of seven in the evening."
" Very well, Nancy, at the appointed hour I will be
there ; and I like your selection of Miss Wright as quite
fortunate, as she is the flame of my friend James. I be
lieve he has been courting her ever since he got home
from the army."

276 LEGENDS OF THE
" O, it fits finely every way, for'she will be the more
ready to accompany us," said Nancy, " when she learns
her lover is to be one of the party."
Thus conversing, the lovers entered the parlor of the
family from whose house they had half an hour before
walked.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 277

CHAPTER XXIV.

The lovers consummate their marriage — A description of the bride's
person— Col. Green's chagrin and disappointment — His wife's
sensible advice, and the colonel's final reconcilement to what he
could not help.

" There are gold — bright scenes in worlds above,
And blazing gems in worlds below ;
.Our world has love and only love,
For living warmth and jewel glow :
God's love is Sunlight to the good,
And woman's pure as diamond sheen,
And, friendship's mystic brotherhood
In twilight beauty lies between." — B. M. Milnes.
"Love, passionate young love, how sweet it is
To have the bosom made a paradise
By thee, life lighted with thy rainbow smile ! " — London.
"Then doubt me not — the season
Is o'er when Folly made me rove,
And now the vestal, Reason
Shall watch the fire awak'd by Love," — Moore.
Shobtlv after the young lovers entered the parlor of
Gibson's dwelling, as stated at the close of the last chap
ter, they were invited to meet the inmates of the house at
tea, and soon thereafter, the young soldier took leave of
Miss Green, hastily whispering in her ear, " Remember
the place and hour ; and if life is spared me, I shall be
there to meet you ; — till then farewell ! " — and bowing to
Mr. and Mrs. G., hurried home.
He then addressed a brief note to his friend, Jonathan
James, informing him of the contemplated trip across
the Potomac into Maryland, and requesting a visit from
him early on the next day to consult, arrange and pre-

278 lEG-EUDs of tHE
pare for the trip. This note he sealed and placed in the
hands of his father's faithful old body servant, Toby, di
recting him to deliver it to his friend, and none other ;
and at the hazard of his life stfffef no one to take it or"
get possession of it, till he found Mr. James. "Aye,
neber mine, Mas Tommy, — ole Tob neber lib dis long in
ole Vaginy an' know nuttin. Nobody nebefr gits dis 'spateh
noway, mine I tells you. Mas Tommy, aint dis de berry
way Ginel. Washinton. sent dat 'spach by dat Maj. Creg,
I hear masser read 'bout in de big newspaper, an de
Britisher make he gib he up, and gib he up to Ginel
Conwalle, stiddy Massa Fayette ? I die fuss an de
Britisher neber done gits dis 'spach fom dis ole nigger."
"Ah! now, Tob, this is your way," replied his young
master : " you are always talking about the army or some
thing happened there ; and will have your talk out, no
matter how great the hurry you ought to be in. Don't
you see you are losing too much time, and you've yet
got to go five miles to Mr. James', and back to night."
" Neber mine, Mas Tom, dis ole nigger gwyne do it,
an no mistake." And so he started.
In a few minutes his mother sent for him to come to
her room and placed in his hands one hundred and fifty
pounds — one -hundred sent him by his father, and fifty
contributed by herself. "Here, my son," said she, "we
hope this will do for the preserit ; mote shall come, when
needed." With grateful acknowledgements he received the bills
and a few doubloons, making the sum, put them in his
old greasy buckskin artny purse ; Stuck his hands a kimbo,
and said, " Now let Bobby Green come along."
"Well," said his mother, ''you'd better say yOung
man, ' now Tommy Mac, go along';' for from what I was
told to-day, by on'e of our lady neighbor's, you will have
pretty hard Wbrk, to get hold of the sweet-heart in a few
days." "Ah, what did she say, mo'ther ? " She replied she had

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 279
heard Bob and his wife talking of Nancy's foolishness,
and heard him say he was going to some city in a few
days ; and she was sure he is going to take the dear girl
with him. "Are you going to run away with her Thom
as, and when and how will you fix it ? "
He then told his mother of the interview that evening,
and of the plan they had adopted : that he had just writ
ten to Jonathan James, by Toby, to go with them ; and
Miss Greeny expected Miss Wright, to be ber brides
maid." "Yes — yes," she replied., "that is the reason why Capt.
Gibson's old Harry stopped here a few minutes, enquiring
of your father the way to Maj. Wright's over in Fauquier.
Did you leave her at Capt. Gibson's when you left there ?"
" Yes, mother."
"Ah! yes that's the Way of it. He said he had to
carry a letter there. But he wouldn't say who from or
who to."
We pass over many amusing incidents that occurred
in connection with the hurried preparations of the lovers
and their attendants., in the trip to Maryland. Engaging
the patience of our respected readers no farther for the
present^ in regard to the marriage of Thomas McClana
han, of whom we shall, hereafter, in detailing some of the
events of the earlier settlements of the West, have much
more to say, only to remark that the young and beautiful
Miss Green, with her equally interesting bride-maid,
Miss Wright, met the two young soldiers, McClanahan
and JameSj at the time and place agreed upon, by the
lovers, upon the banks of the Rappahanock, and without
delay or difficulty, tiiost pleasantly the gallants journied
with their respective intended wives, to Dumfries. There
at Rose Hill, the beautiful residence of Rev. Dr. Thomas
Bonnell Thornton, they engaged the services of that ven
erable gentleman . He accompanied them across the broad
Potomac, to the fisherman's hut on the Maryland bank,
and there were the sacred rites of matrimony solemnized

280 LEGENDS OF THE
between the runaways, according to the ordinance of God,
and the forms of the old English Church, of which the
reverend gentleman was an unfashionable, though intel
ligent and truly pious minister.
We would present to the reader a more particular in
troduction to Miss Nancy Green, just made the bride of
our young patriot, Thomas McGlanahan, as we have
seen, and of her no less beautiful bride-maid, Miss Mary
Wright. They were within a few months of the same
age ; the bride, a little the oldest, and both a little over
eighteen years. To- the former, the connisseur in beauty
of form and symmetry of features, would probably accord
the palm; to the latter would be ascribed the greatest ap
probation and attraction in sprightliness of temperament,
quickness of perception and justness of judgment. The
young bride in person exhibited a mould remarkably at
tractive. A skin white as alabaster ; a neck and bosom
— in short an entire bust, full and expansive ; portraying
nature's fashioning, in her most artistic handy-work; and
indicating a fine adaptation for health and endurance of
pain and suffering ; soft deep blue eyes, adorned the ex
pression of her face, shaded with jet black eye-lashes, and
a full flowing suit of hair, dark as ebony, hanging in clus
tering ringlets down a beautiful neck. Her heighth was
a little above usual, and altogether she was possessed of
a fine person. The distinctive qualities of her mind was
that, of continued quietude and sunshine. Never greatly
buoyant with hope, nor depressed with sorrow or despair ;
sensible ever to passion's touch, quickly shown in Vermil
lion blushes unaccompanied by any other ebullition of
passion; and when sorrows and suffering came, as oft
they did in after life, she exhibited a fortitude equalled
only by that of the suffering Viola, " smiling at grief."
Of her pretty brunette bride-maid, little more here need be
said, as the reader may be fully assured she was in per
son and mind everything her enraptured lover, Capt. Jon
athan James, could think or wish in a bride.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 281
Of the effects produced upon Col. Green, and his very
amiable and kind lady, who had most tenderly reared
and educated her sister-in law, Miss Green, from a very
tender age — affectionally supplying the place of a mother,
we need not particularly remark, on account of her elope
ment. We only say. that with the colonel, who was not
a little inexorable in his prejudices, however hastily and
indiscreetly formed, seemed greatly discomforted when he
discovered in the morning his pretty bird had flown.
" Why Amelia," he said to his wife, " you have nour
ished and reared that disobedient sister of mine, to a poor
purpose ! — to marry that wild adventurer and be dragged
in a year or two I suppose to the wilderness, or God
knows where — among the Indians in Kentucky or any
place he pleases. O, I wish I had him here now, he'd
never again run on foot another race with the hounds af
ter another deer or fox or anything else — a mere beardless
boy ! "
" Husband ! husband ! " said his lady, " hear me but
just a minute. Your sister, it is true, is yet quite young,
and I cannot say that she has been prudent in the choice
of a husband, but I am sure it is by this time too late to
remedy it. Nor will I pretend to say Thomas McClana
han is not worthy of her and will not make her a good
and worthy husband. I am sure he is a very brave and
heroic young man. His superior officers say he is a
brave soldier, and you know he is able to take his own
part with any body, though be is a beardless boy, as you
call him."
" Well — well, wife I am, perhaps, a little too hasty,
but I don't like to be overcome in this way by that
young man. ,Why, if you could only have seen how he
looked me in the face, when I told him he should not
have her, and he replied he would in spite of me, you'd
have hated yourself to see me so outdone."
"Ah ! husband, it is now, rely upon it, too late to make
the thing any better, and as your pride of character is on-

282 LEGENDS OF THE
ly a little touched, in the affair, I think its best now to
let it pass, and receive them when they come back, as
friendly as we can and make the best of it. The least
said> the soonest mended."
" I don't know yet what I shall do," responded the
colonel, " I love my sister, and it was my duty to protect
her. What I shall purpose hereafter, may depend on
circumstances; but I hate to be thus headed by a mere
boy." "0, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that Sweet omataent which truth doth give !
The rose looks fair, we it esteem,
For that sweet odor which doth in it live." — Shakspeare.
"Nor steel, nor Are itself hath power
Like woman in her conquering hour,
Be thou but fair, — mankind adore thee !
Smile, — and a world is weak before thee ! — Moore.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 283

CHAPTER XXV

McClanahan .removes to Nevv River — Is famed for his p'ugilistic en
counters and victories — A conspiracy to vMiip Mml— Seven th'eh
undertake to do so, but after five of them being by him nearly
killed, the ether two run tad leave him victor — He, with his fata
lly, emigrates to Kentucky — Reach and reside at Boone's Station
— McClanahan's intimacy with Daniel Boone — Has several severe
combats with Indians — Delights in the occupation — Boone makes
him commander of a company of rangei-s, and sends him to the
settlements ob the Ohio to faatch the Indians — His success.

" Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace ;
Robes loosely 'flowing, hair as free ;
Siich sweet neglect moire taketh me
Than all the adulteries of art :
These strike mine eyes, but those my heaTt." —
Ben. Jonson.
In tbe fo'regoitag notices of the 'early life of Thomas
McClanahan, we are aware that the incidents are not re
markably calculated to distinguish him from the thousands
of the young and chivalric sons of the cblotiies, in the days
of the revolution ; but as constituting an initiatory and
appropriate introduction to the entire narrative of his
Whole life. They also serve tO confirm us in the Opinion
heretofore Ventured in this work, and still adhered to,
that the time and the circumstances by Which the heroes
of that glorious struggle Were finally successful in achiev
ing our liberty, and were, necessarily, in the nature of
things and the providence of the Ruler of the universe,
certain of final victory. We, therefore, are induced to
believe that the future of this somewhat dariUg and ad
venturous young man will increase the interest ©f the
reader, and therefore we will now give a narrative of his

284 LEGENDS OF THE
pioneer character and proceed to exhibit his after life,
both before and after his emigration to the West.
In a few months after his marriage and return to his
home with his pretty young bride, his father made him a
deed of conveyance to a valuable tract of land which he
owned on New River, not very distant from Abington,
at that day very sparsely populated; to which,. in, the
course of a few, months later, he moved and settled, with
his family. There was at that time no portion of the
State of Virginia east of the Alleghany mountains as
little inhabited or less known. It was, not many years pre
vious to his removal, that the hunting herds of Cherokees,
Creeks, and other Indians then inhabiting the entire val
ley of the Mississippi, South and West, had ceased to
penetrate into that region, and as might have been ex
pected, he found living in his vicinity those not far in ad
vance of them in civilization.
They had brought with them all the wild and vicious
practices, habits, fashions, and homely customs, which
were found in that early day everywhere prevailing, more
or less, in all the better portions of the country from
which they had recently emigrated, leaving behind them
nearly everything calculated to adorn, enlighten and
ameliorate the asperities of social life. The men were
almost universally swearers, gamblers and bullies ; some
renegades from justice and the just animadversions of the
laws of civil society.
Game was very plenty. Deer, bear, wild turkies, and
other desirable game, were very abundant ; inviting and
alluring to the hunters. It will, therefore, not surprise
any who have read of his early habits and delights, that
hunting at once chiefly engaged the fancy and engrossed
the time of young McClanahan. Neither will anybody
be surprised when they are informed that he was soon
found engaged in the most desperate trials of his pugil
istic skill and tact, and set down as the most dangerous
and successful bully in all the land.
It will be recollected by those who are acquainted with

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 285
those days, that even in the most civilized circles, fre
quent meetings for the trial of strength and prowess in
boxing and fighting matches were among the choice of
their entertainments at gatherings for musters, log-roll
ings, corn-shuckings, shooting matches, &c, The fashion
was to consider and treat him as the greatest and most
distinguished man in all the land, who had conquered
the greatest number' of his fellows in the games of " hard
est fend-off" and fisticuff. The reader will not, there
fore, be surprised to learn that young McClanahan was,
after his settlement on New River, plunged into these
fashionable employments,, the results of some of which
were, tbat while he invariably boasted, as truly he could,
of the most unquestionable victories in every trial, though
not without a few black eyes and red noses, together with
a few weighty verdicts for damages and bills of costs for
his sports in bruising ; yet so notorious did his name and
fame become for such feats, that prided bullies of coun
ties and neighborhoods fifty and sixty miles distant from
his residence, came to his house, sought an interview,
and made a trial of his skill in turning out bruises and
perfectly satisfying their desires for such distinctions.
None ever came for a second trial ! So remarkably ex
pert were his exploits in this line, and so frequent had
been the occasions in which he had taught that descrip
tion of combatants for the bully's fame, that it began to
be rumored and fully believed that he was, in fact, a sort
of super-human being. Some said he was certainly a di
rect descendant from Lucifer upon the principle of the
modern doctrine of a small fragment of the Baptist church,
called the " Two seed Baptists." Others who had heard
the tales that spread throughout the land of the celebra
ted Peter Francisco, of revolutionary wonders— s wore he
was -the sun of that giant, they were certain ; and others
said if one could not be found in all the country to con
quer him, yet they were sure if a number would join in,
they could accomplish it.

286 LEGENDS OK TL'TJ
Accordingly it was so determined on. He had to be
whipped some way. Seven men {a prophetic number);
were therefore selected out of a Captain'si company, who
were understood to embrace the next musteE or some
other general gathering of the country, to accomplish ife.
No such meeting came till the,mus.tea?. In. the mean'
time, some one who had heard of the conspiracy, ia-.
formed McClanahan of it. He determined to prepare, as
well as he could, for the trial. Visiting a blacksmith's
shop, he had a couple, of steel plates made to fit exactly hj%
shoe, or boot heels, so that when Wiith screws, these plateSj
were fixed on his heels, an edge jn*tedi over the hind part
of the heel taps, the eighth of an inch, which was ag; keenly
sharpened as the edge of a knife. With tjiese weapons^.
over and above those, furnished him by nature alone, he,
went to the mus.teu, suffered himself to. be decpyed by the.
seven bullies, into a room, and th^ doon to bei locked ijpoft
him. Quickly the congest began. But even while thi%
resolution of the seven was' being told him, he spii^jig %$
one of them, seized him by the neck, eafls^ or some -ether
pant, threw himself upon his, back, dragging- him. U.po&i
himselif, and with the entire strength of his uncommonly
muscular arms hugging him tightly, began > with his heel*
the work of raking him from his shoulders to bis postemr
ors in a most batcherous style. Meanwhile the other as?
sociates stood by, seeing that their comradft was uppgp-
most, and as they supposed, all the time making, light,
shouting hurira, John or Jim or George, (ge the case might
be) "give it to him, whip. him ! "r— until it suited McClaft.
ahan. ta let him loose and spring and grab another of
them and use him in the. same, way-; leaving the; first
steetched on the floor dead] on dying* as it. seemed, blseclf.
ing and helpless., at least.; and so. he passed ou to th«
third, fourth, and fifth, using them up, each im turn, till*
the sixth, and seventh, takingithe hint that t&ek. time fiwe
a, like; fate was. at hand, hastily unlocked, the d<w»n, andi
ingloriously fled, carrying the entire haikn©e off fight,, in.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 281
the select seven heroes, out of harm's way, and leaving
McClanahan victor of the gory field, booted and spured
to ride over another seven select militia. *
After this extraordinary demonstration, great and dis
tinguished honors met him and were shown him at every
public gathering. At all log-rollings, house-raisings,
corn-shuckings, foot-races, quiltings and weddings, by all
the country, male and female. O, poor human nature !
The consequence was, with our young hero, in the exhu-
berance of his love of fun and sociability, joined with the
flattertng attentions shown him by his neighbors,. luring
to many evils and costly escapes, beset; him, till his lib
eral patrimony molted away like the drifted snow before
the direct rays of the mid-day sun, leaving himself and
interesting family gubjeflt to the narrowest means of com
fort. About the year 1782, joining in with a company of
some twenty or thirty men with five or six families of
women and a number of small children coming to Kefl;
tucky, all on pack-horses ; (for to cross the mountains and
pass the wilderness then with wagons or other carriage-?,
was altogether impracticable,) he, with his family, s$t
forth for Kentucky. Few incidents in the way occured
worthy of note till the company reached what is called
Powell's Valley, where their camp was attacked in the
earliest dawn of the day, and one man and one woman
killed, and one man and a little boy severely wounded.
The men instantly sprang to their guns, loaded and pre
pared for battle, rushed forth into the woods from whence
they understood the report of the Indian guns came, and
discovering some Indians at a distance, some behind trees
and others retreating in a run, fired and killed one Indian
and wounded two others. The number of Indians was
supposed to be about fifty warriors, and a few squaws.
They were also supposed to be Cherokee*.
In a few days more the cavalcade moved on to Boone's
Station and Harrods. McClanahan and ar dozen or two

288 LEGENDS OF THE
went to Boone's. They bad not been there but a fevfr
days before the Indians attacked and besieged Boone's
Station, which lasted ten days. Ordinary men coming
into the country and in so short a time after being sub
jected to so severe a trial as that station suffered on that
occasion, would have felt great alarm. But to our young
soldier there was presented, though a new scene, one
which above all others seemed to be suited to his adven
turous nature, and the theatre on whieh his native genins
was best enabled to show its superiority of prowess and
energy. Soon after his arrival at the station and he was known
to Daniel Boone, who is known by all familiar with his
history that among his other peculiar traits of character, he
was distinguished for his power in looking in the face of
the most entire strangers and immediately forming the most
reliable opinions of them. Being thus gifted, Boone saw
at once the moral courage, integrity of purpose and prob
able usefulness, every way, of our hero, in resisting the
incursions of the savages. It may not, therefore, sur
prise any who have become acquainted with his history,
in the pfeceeding pages, that young McClanahan was im
mediately taken into favor and enjoyed the greatest con-
fidecne of that extraordinary leader in the conflicts with
the savages in the first settlement of the valley of the
Mississippi. The writer well remembers to have heard
him often say, when narrating many of the feats of enter
prise and bravery of that extraordinary man in fightings
pursuing and destroying the wily savages, that he, above
all others, was the greatest natural man he had ever
known, and the most perfect woods-man ; with the most
ready and useful knowledge of the savage character ever
seen. Sometimes in the hunting expeditions, when provi
sions became scarce in the station and want of food was
likely to become extreme ; when the greatest danger and
terror existed ; and when it was well known that the sur-

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 289
rounding forests were filled with savages of the most fe
rocious character, McClanahan, at the break of day,,
would kave the fort alone and travel for miles in hunt of
game, and, almost always returned laden with supplies,
composed of the most choice portions of deer, sometimes
the tongues only of deer and buffalo,, and sometimes three
or four fine.turkies.
On one of those occasions, his readiness, in a fight as
well as. fleetness of foot,, were put to the severest test.
The weather was warm, and he, had ¦ glided through the
forest, till he had gone^the distance of two or three miles
from the station. An opportunity presented of a shot at
abeatttiful.young doe. He shot it, hung it upon a sapling,
removed the intestines to lessen the burthen of taking it
on his back. This was just on the declivity of a small
sink, at the bottom of which he espied a small stream of
watei: issuing forth. , Being considerably heated and
thirsty, by reason of his walk and the heat of the day, he
descended to the bottom, set his, gun against, a tree at
hand, and kneeling,, drank from, a small pool. He slaked
hi^thirst.. But as.be rose from his knees.and straightened
to an, erect position, a large, Indian warrior,, making the
significant booh of the. Indian, pitched at him as if to
seize and take him prisoner. As he plunged,, McClana*
han mosfr dexterously met him with a. stroke of the: toma
hawk he.scabbardedon his left, side, striking him on the
right side of his savage head,, felled him. to the ground;
withhis.left hand he snatched his rifle from the, tree and
with all his, wqnted speed fled up the small, rise of the
sink, ran towardsthe fort about two hundued. yards,, took
a, tree and looked back for a minute to see the result..
Assured in his mind the. Indian he had knocked down
was not distant from others, perhaps many, and if he
paused but for a moment to put an end to him,, they
would come upon him and probably kill him, he, fled
as stated.. But when he looked from behind, the tree, he
found his conjecture true ; for he saw two Indians run-
19

290 LEGENDS OF THE
ning in pursuit with their rifles a little elevated and
ready to shoot. He stood still, covered by the tree, till
they came within seventy or eighty yards, took sight,
and one of them, at the crack of his gun, fell. The other
stopped a moment to look at his kicking companion ; but
fearing when the Indian yelled and started again toward
him, he would be down upon him before he could possi
bly reload, our hero set forth again rwith his accustomed
speed, loading as he ran. After running the fourth of
a mile, finding he had greatly the advantage in speed
over the savage, he took another tree, and when the In
dian got within a hundred yards from him, let slip at
him ; but whether he hit or not he never knew. To the
station then he made his Way without farther adventure.
Next morning he and four others of the men in the
fort, steathily crept to the ground, found his deer still
hanging, but found no Indian, dead or alive, — saw much
blood, and where it seemed some one had been dragged.
They bore his game to the station.
Frequently he was out on expeditions as one of a com
pany of spies sent forth to range along the banks of the
Ohio river, principally on the south, and often on the
northern side of that stream ; very frequently encounter
ing considerable numbers of the Indians seeking to make
incursions into the feeble settlements of Kentucky for
purposes of murder and rapine. On several of these spy
expeditions, McClanahan was in command of the com
pany ; ever intrepid and daring. Having under his au
thority at one time forty young and hardy soldiers, and
when on the Ohio river, he learned that a number of the
Mississinawa, and perhaps a few Pottawatami Indians
had, within a few weeks, attacked two boats coming
down with emigrants, near the mouth of the little Miami,
killed six or seven — two men, two women, three children,
and. took off, as prisoners, two young ladies of very re
spectable families— Lucy Smith and Harriet Lane. They
were tracked from the river, some distance towards the

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 291
north and in the direction of the Mississinawa towns.
He determined to hazard the great danger and "take
the responsibility " if his men would agree to go with
him, endeavor to find their way to the nearest pf the vil
lages, and, if possible, rescue the unfortunate girls.
He called a sort of counsel of war, — told the men what
he wished to do and had determined with their consent
to do. Taking the vote, all went for it, except one and
the captain dismissed him from the company, proffering,
however, to put him across the river, for they were camp
ed on the northern side, if he chose to return to the sta
tion from which he came ; saying, he did not, as they
were certain to have some pretty hard fighting, want any
one to go into that business, unless he was willing to go
his death. His name was Turner, and when he was told
by two of the men they were ready to put him across the
Ohio. "Well, now," says he, bursting into a loud camp-laugh,
" boys you see my name is Turner, and I turn toward
that hunt for them gals as heartily as any on you, — So go
as soon as you please — I'm up to the hub for it."
They raised a great laugh and shout in the camp, and
all' set about a preparation for the trip; some in jerking
up a good store of venison and preparing deer tongues,
and the like. They were then encamped, as we have
said, on the northern bank of the river, near the mouth
of the Big Miama; having recently received a good
supply of ammunition from Fort Washington, just a little
before established, now Cincinnati, while some engaged
in moulding an additional stock of bullets, &c.
The distance to the Mississinawa villages none of them
knew, nor the exact direction, and there was neither road
nor trace to direct their course or travel ; but the next
day they set out on the expedition. Capt. McClanahan
had derived some idea of the locality of the Mississinawa
Indians by conversations witb several of the men that
were out on Gen. George Rogers Clark's expedition to

292 LEGENDS OF THE
Kaskaskia and Vincennes. He was himself a fine wqods-
man, but one of his men, Blan4 Ballard, was belieycd to
be,. unexcelled in all the West.. .Afl-ded tpihig experience
a?, a great hunter, was that of the, most, towering love
of adventure, and. above all the moat irresistable moral
courage, beaut,if]ully commingled, with the kindest and m.ost
generous sympathies for his fellow-menr Qf the bravery
and almost superhunmn. powers of endurance, of this man,
we have much to narrate, and will do so in an appropriate
part of this book. In one of his recent tramps along on
the Ohio, he had aqcidently met with a. young mg,n .in a
thick forept, entirely bewildered, lost and nearly famjshed
for want of food, ; haying eat nothing but the bark of the
spice- wood, bushes, broken off as. he wandered, and the
tender buds of the hickory branches found in his way. He,
was one of the men on board of one of the boats attacked as,
above mentioned, and the only one known to have escaped,
except Harriet Lq,ne hia sister. They were with their fath
er and mother an^ a few of the children, (who were ad kill;
ed by the Indians,) emigrating from Maryland to settle,
at Harrod's Station.
After sharing with young Lane, a portion, of his jerked
venison and dried buffalo tongue, and waiting by his side
till with these refreshments, rest and' sleep, his wearied.
and emaciated companion was revived, and, refreshed,
young Lane communicated these, further particulars of
the capture of the boats. They were a little before sun
down gliding quietly do/svn the stream within fifty or sixty
yards of the northern shore and passing an abrupt ben<J
in the river, below, which and within a few steps, on the
north side, a creek, mouthed in which were hid two Indian
canoes, from which apd, from a number of Indians on the
bank, the bo-jtts were, suddenly fired upon. The twO men
working the oari^ on his, father's, boat, were instantly
killed ; also, his mother and. father. He himself jumped
into the river, and swam to the same shore above the point
unobserved by the Indians ;, landed aQ4 crept info, the

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 29'3
hollow of a very large sycamore, close to the water's
edge, and hid himself, fie saw a part, at least, from the
hollow 'in wbich he was 'hidden, of the killing Of those re-
inaihing on 'the boats and saw them take and tie the two
giris. ThOse from the canoes took possession -of the boiat's,
managed 'to land them below the mouth of the creek,
where all of thfe savage's got oh board and pushing them
again out into 'tihe river, in 'the midst of the inost horrid
yells and s'crefeihs, Sailed out "Of bis sight. In the hollow
of 'the friendly syeairiore be continued during the night
after the dte&dfiil catastrophe. A't light in the morning
he ore'^t'fdrfh, aild '^long 'do'W-n 'the river a few miles, un-
fidtermihed Whither to direct his steps for 'safety ; wholly
hh&rmeq., but having sOme indistinct ahd undefined hope
of discovering the destiny of his sister arid Miss Smith,
as well as the fate of the boats. Near evening he came
to a place Where hfe discovered a fresh bank of ashes and
bene"atii a little fire 'still lingering. This place evidently
Was recently deserted by many persons, as 'the grass and
leaves seem'ed recently trodden doWn for a large Space
around the firfe. !i$till looking mOre closely, he discovered
a small woo&en tray, i^plft at One 'end, used by his mother
on the boat in kneading dough. This he remembered ;
whilst near by, he also discovered a small portion of a
middling of bacott which seemed cut from the balance
with a knife and thrown in the edge of the water. He
also saw or thought he saw one corner of a boat sunk out
in the river yet near enough to the shore and surface of
the water to be seen. He further discovered that the
track made through the beaten grass led off from the fire
in a plainly marked course directly northward, and in fol
lowing it for a' half mile or more he found the garter of
his sister which he readily recognized, and dOubted not
she had dropped it as she was dragged or driven along by
her captors, into the wilderness. This he picked up and
had still preserved in all his ramblings. He then return
ed to the river, but being unable to cross to the Kentucky

294 LEGENDS OF THE
shore, and utterly ignorant of the entire country, starv
ing and distracted, he rambled off from it, became bewil
dered and lost, when he was found by Mr. Ballard.
After that generous young pioneer of the West had fed
and nursed young Lane for two days, supposing he could
now make his way to the station called Drennon's, and di
recting him with particularity how to steer to cross at the
grassy flats his course to Drennon's Fort, and dividing
with him his store of provisions, they parted. Ballard
steered in a course to bring him to the Ohio, near the
mouth of the Big Miami, before agreed upon by the spy
company as the place for their next encampment and gen
eral rendezvous for a time, and until it should be agreed
to be changed. There in the evening of the day he found
the entire company, related to Capt. McClanahan, the
foregoing adventure and narrative of young Lane pro
posed to him the effort to overtake if possible the sav
age captors of the two young ladies and rescue them at all
hazards ; and had the heart felt gratification to find a
ready and willing acquiescence in that, affair. On the
second day the company started on the expedition, in
pursuit of the Indians, and to find the Mississinawa
villages. "Know that pride,
How'er disguised in its own majesty,
Is littleness.
! True dignity abides with him alone,
Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,
Can still respect and reverence himself
[ . In lowliness of heart."
" Strongest minds
Are often those the noisy world
Hears least." — Wordsworth.

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 295

CHAPTER XXVI.

The party overtakes the Indians — After destroying forty of them,
they release .Miss Lucy Smith and Harriet Lane, and conduct
them in triumph to Fort Washington, now Cincinnati — Lucy
Smith is married to one of the Rangers — The first wedding ever
celebrated at Cincinnati.

" Heaven alone is just ! Men in adulation record,
The infla.ed warrior's or statesman's reward ;
Whilst woman's sweeter virtues, and patient sacrifice of days,
On earth pass, without a thought, without a word of praise !
0 ! T would not live always here." — Lelia.
Nothing very strikingly interesting occurred with Capt.
McClanahan and his brave company of rangers or spies for
five days after they, as we have seen, marched from the
banks of the Ohio, to find and deliver the two unfortunate
girls, captured and borne off by the Mississinawa Indians.
Almost all of the company were young, active, and very
athletic ; not one of them was more than twenty-eight
years old, and none was under the age of twenty-two.
Great cheerfulness was depicted in every countenance
and their almost boyish hilarity and sportiveness were so
great as to preclude nearly entirely the maintainence of
necessary discipline, and the caution indispensable to
safety and success, in the country of their wily savage
enemies. Having learned from a man who had been
captured at Drennon's Station a year before, by a roving
gang of Shawanee Indians, carried by them through the
Mississinawa villages, and who had ultimately escaped
when well nigh the head waters of the Wabash river,
that these villages were situated chiefly between the
sources of the Big Miami and those, of the Wabash, they
were little at a loss in directing their course through the
trackless wilds which they had to pass.

296 XEGENDS OF THE
The weather was clear, calm, and pleasantly warm;
the nights unclouded and serene. The north star- there
fore, as to the mariner upon the bosom of the trackless
deep, meekly and truly pointed out their course. Onward
in vigilance and cheerfulness they wended their way, till
the evening of the fifth day, when, arming at the bank
of a small stream, they were about to build a fire and
encamp for the night, when they heard the sharp crack
of a rifle, and, in somewhat suppressed tones, the Indian
yell was heard down the stream, appearing to be within
the distance of a quarter of a mile.
At once convinced there were savages at hand, a coun
sel of war took place, and Ballard and Basey were ordered
in the most stealthy manner to examine in the direction
they heard the explosion, for Indians, &c. In a few
minutes they reported the discovery of an Indian *fire,
surrounded by at least fifty, and also two white girls,
who were apparently tied by a hand eaeh, together, and
bound to a tree. 'Quickly a slight retreat was resolved
upon, and executed in the most silent and secret manner,
to the distance of four or five hundred yards, and to a
very advantageous position, covered by a bend of the
creek and high cliff. Here they kindled a small fire, sent
out a suflBcient guard, and determined to wait till it was
entirely dark as an unclouded night was likely to be ; and
then act in the way best favoring success in reclaiming
and releasing the captive maidens.
The moment for action speedily came. All were ready,
and all anxious for the fight. In a few minutes they had
a full view of the savages, and also of the unhappy cap
tives, seated on the ground, side by side, and discovered
them to be in the range of the shots from the spies, from
the position in which they stood. Quickly, at a whisper
to his men by the captain, they changed their position
and at a given signal, all fired — ten or twelve savages
instantly fell 1 Those not killed or wounded seized their
guns in great confusion and disorder, and commenfied

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 297
Shooting at Tandom ; as they could not see the whites
who stood in the woods, until their fire was put out. The
spies loaded and fired the second round — Bhot somewhat
in the dark also, killing Some more, 'however, and wound
ing others ; then, according to the plan of attack, all
rushed forward with their tomahawks drawn in their
right hands, their rifles in their left, and contending with
the Indians for a minute or so, drove them or killed all
that remained to fight.
The two girls seemed at first frightened into an almost
demented condition. As soon, however, as a torch was
lighted and 'they were enabled to see and find themselves
surrounded by white men, imagination alone can meas
ure the grateful transports of joy, that filled their tried
and trembling hearts. This was exhibited now in al
most distracted exclamations and supplications to the
men in the most pathetic terms, for mercy and protection,
and anon in triumphant shouts of joy, when assured
by the captain, that they were their friends, 'that it v
For their rescue they had come, and they should be re
stored to their friends.
The ground was for a distance around where the fire
was kindled surprisingly covered with dead or dying
Indians, but with mucb pain and regret they discovered
also among the slain, a small French lady that had also
been brought off by the Indians from Heckerwelder, the
Moravian town, situated near the Muskingum river.
The body of the young woman, the rangers, if they had
had anything with which to excavate a grave, would
bave buried. But nothing of the kind had they or could
they procure.
0 ! how deplorable a thing is war, blood-shed, and
carnage, even with poor heartless and infuriated savages!
Still they are human beings — their bodies human bodies!
their spirits or souls, though untutored and undeveloped
by science or civilization, are human spirits or souls, for
which the red currents of atoning-blood as freely flowed

298 LEGENDS OF THE
as for those of the civilized man. And not the least of
the corrupting and brutalizing of war's effects upon the
hearts and minds of even civilized men, are its tendencies
to excite, cultivate and cherish the degrading and iniqui;
tous thirst for human blood; to shut up all the generous
sympathies of our nature, and demonize.our noblest attri
butes of mercy and charity. Modern European laws of
warfare have greatly ameliorated, it is true, the terrific
coincidents of international conflicts, by respecting the
rights of private property, and extending humanity and
kindness to the sick, wounded and captured. Nor less do
such demonstrations of human sympathy and christian
feeling obtain and control the conduct of the government
officers and soldiers of civilized America. Nay, indeed,
it may be truly said, they are more cherished, and main
tain a more universal respect and wide-spread, control
here than in any other portion of the civilized world.
But it must be confessed that these ameliorations of war's
asperities and cruelties, are due to civilization alone.
War naturally teaches no such mixture of mercy with its
wonted and congenial cruelties. In man's primitive and
unchristianized state, since his corruption by the fall, he
knows no object in his wars, but the extermination of his
enemies, by death or captivity. Such characterized the
wars of the Jews, in their palmiest days of national ex
istence! Such those of the Greeks and Romans, at
the zenith of their highest boasts of semi-civilization and
science. Unfortunately, however, for American honor and
character, our people, in these respects, in all their wars,
have had in every case^ with savages to endure their
accustomed practices and cruel examples in war, such as
the slaughter of prisoners and the indiscriminate murder
of women and children ! While in all other of our wars
— twice with Britain, once with France, and lastly with
Mexico, the most savage and ferocious tribes of Indians
in every instance have been armed not only with guns,
but tomahawks, and scalping knives 1 — and brought into

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 299
the conflicts ; encouraged, inspired and improved, so far
as British, French, and Spanish artistic inventions, the
boasts of their civilization, could be made to, bear, in new
modes of savage cruelty and ferocity.
And although in reference to the savages that those
European nations, while at war with us, employed and
encouragel in their savage cruelties toward us, yet to
wards Britons, French, and Spanish, we acted in strict
conformity to the usages and rules of civilized nations at
war. It is the regret of every right-minded and philan
thropic citizen that in regard -to the barbarisms, we have
been tempted, in the spirit of the "lex talionis," or law
of retaliation, to follow in some instances their examples
and practices of savage cruelty and malignity ; and visit
upon them the rage of a war of extermination, and not
merely of conquest! We would to God, that for the
honor of our beloved United States, its civilized and
christianized reputation, among the nations of earth, such
items as those of the far-famed Nickajack victory ; and
distinction of the Georgia assumption of territory, govern
mental possession and authority, over the lands the homes
and graves of the fathers and mothers, brothers, and
sisters, of the Cherokee Indians ; and of the conduct of
McClanahan and his intrepid fellow rangers, in the fight
we have just described ; as well as a thousand other oc
currences in disregard to and in outrage of the most
common sympathies of our .nature, did not stand forth tq
bedim and blacken the fair and beautiful pages of our
country's history. ,
We have said that, at the two fires of Capt. McClana
han and his men upon the Mississinawa Indians, when
they rushed upon them, tomahawk in hand, and killed
and wounded them all, or nearly so, strewing the ground
with the dead and dying — but we mean not to say, by
word or thought, in the foregoing reflections, there was
any wrong. For if in moutal combat and war unto death
with our enemies, there can be justification (and we cer-

BOO 'legend Of The
talnly 'do not doubt ii), this is a case in which nothing
could 'be more juSt, nothing more deserving of the highest
approbation than such a rescue Of 'the captured girls.
But to explain our meaning, and to fix iftie application
of this case with others referred to, with the view we
have been itaking of Wars Of all kind's, but especially with
barbarians or savage tribes or nations — it win be recol:
lected ftiat beside the dead and dying found by our ran
gers, i&rywing the ground, there were twelve or fifteen
difly wotihded Or disabled ; and who, if it had been pOs
sible to have taken care of them and treated them ac
cording to the dictates of humanity, as civilization teach
es, might have lived, gone 'home to their wives and little
pappooses and furnished them with food. But these also
our pioneer Ken'tuckian's, Coolly put to death, and left
them and all the others to feed the Wolf, the panther, and
the vulture of the wilderness !
History, however, scarcely "furnishes an instance of a
war between a nation civilized and one barbarian, in
Whicb the former did hot, to a greater or leSs extent, adop t
the warfare Of the barbarian. Our wars with England
and France, toward Whom we observed with unwavering
strictness, the humanity of civilized warfare, must not
Constitute the ground of blame to us alone. Sometimes,
in reference to the savages whom those nations prompted
and employed and brought to the conflicts, they did no
thing tO restrain their barbarous excesses and cru
elties. The blame is at their doors respectively. The
cruelty was all their own.
But to return to the completion of the incidents of
Capt. MeClanahan's excursion to rescue the captive girls.
Often did the Writer witness in the latest days of
the old soldier, with what pleasure he would re
cur to this incident in the history of his public service,
as giving him more pleasure to remember and recount
than any other portion of his active life. Often when re
lating it, and speaking of the wild transports of joy and

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 301
delight manifested by the, girls, when they found them
selves delivered, and surrounded! by, and under the pro
tection of their white American brethren, the big tears
would roll from his eyes and chase, each other down his
aged and time-furrowed cheeks., Ah ! 'tis sweet, when
we have passed far down the hill of life, to be able to
look back on life and know that for others, as well as our
selves, we have not lived in vain — that we have some
times, at least, relieved, the distressed, bound' up the bro,-
ken heart, chased away sorrow from the afflicted, and im
parted joy to a suffering soul.
All united in treating the poor girls, in their return to
Fort Washington (now the splendid city of Cincinnati),
with the most respectful regard and politeness. At
night, there being but very few blankets among them,
the best pallet practicable was made for them in the
best place ; and when they would accept of two or three
of the soldiers' coats or hunting shirts thrown over them,
the donors were cordially delighted. Thus in seven days
they reached the fort and placed the orphan strangers un
der the care of Gov. St. Clair and his most accomplished
lady, living, in the garrison, and went forth to renew
with their accustomed vigilance their duty as rangers
along the banks, of the Ohio. Ih this trip the}' were ab
sent, fourteen days, and had slain forty-two Indian warri
ors,, and in return, but one of the party receiving a slight
wound in his leg.
At parting with the, two young captives; all were quite
affected. While the girls wept and expressed in very
touching terms their gratitude to each of the company for
their deliverande, not a few tears were seen to steal down.
the manly and hardy cheeks of the brave pioneer soldiers.
The i pretty Lucy Smith, whose gentle manners, beauti"
ful black, eyes, bright auburn, hair, and skin fair as
health's rosy tints' could paint, even though exposed as
she had been during her captivity and return, was truly
captivating. She at first seemed very deeply melted in

302 LEGENDS OF THE
tears, and almost inconsolable. But when the noble
young ranger, Charles Wilson, looking upon her with si
lent but fixed attention and admiration, approached her,
took her hand, softly pressing it, and said to her in whis
pering tones, she should not long be left at the Fort
wholly among strangers, for in two weeks, by her leave,
he would see her again at Fort Washington, the des
pair of her pretty face changed to its usual cheerfulness
and smiles. Then they parted. He in his heart saying:
" From this hour the pledge is given,
From this hour my soul is thine :
Come what will, from earth or Heaven,
Weal or woe, thy fate he mine." — Moore.
While with equal power she felt, and seemed to say: ;;
" Farewell, and blessings on thy way,
Where'er thou goest, beloved stranger ;
Better to sit and watch the ray,
And think thee safe when far away,
Than have thee near me, and in danger." — Lalla Rookh.
The reader will be pleased to learn that in fulfilment
of his promise, young Wilson, in less than three weeks,
did return to Fort Washington ; sued for and obtained
her hand in marriage, and with the consent of Gov. St.
Clair and lady, they were in a few days the first pair
united in marriage at Fort Washington.
We may also gratify the reasonable solicitude of the
reader to follow further the results of this matrimonial
exploit in the wilderness, and remark, that the generous
young soldier having obtained his discharge from his
captain, he withdrew from the spy service, returned with
his -pretty bride to visit her relatives, to the eastern shore
of Maryland, and there and afterwards when they returned
to the West, laudably gave to their country a lively flock
of young Americans.

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 303

CHAPTER XXVII,

McClanahan's account of Harmar's defeat — His own miraculous
escape from death — Makes his way back to camp, much to the
surprise of his comrades, who had given him up for lost,.

"But strew his ashes to the .wind
Whose sword or voice has saved mankind —
And is he dead, whose glorious mind
Lifts their's on high ?
To live in hearts we leave behind,
Is not to die.
Is't death to fall for freedom's right ?
He's dead alone, that lacks her light !
And murder sullies in Heaven's sight,
The sword he draws : —
"What can alone ennoble fight ?
A noble cause ? " — Moore.
In pursuing further the incidents of Capt. Thomas
McClanahan's life, we have but few to narrate fraught
with much interest, either in regard to his public or pri
vate service, until the expedition to the Miama towns or
villages, in tho Fall of 1790, under the command of Gen.
Harmar, and when that officer, by the order of Gov. St.
Clair, as the immediate medium of Congress and the
President, was sent to quell, if possible, the incursions of
the confederate tribes of Indians, within and bordering,
upon the boundaries of the northwestern territory. He
was upon that campaign, holding the lieutenancy of a
militia or volunteer company from Kentucky. He was
at the fight with the Indians at the junction of St. Joseph
and St. Mary's rivers when the defeat, commonly called
Harmar's defeat, took place. As this venerable old gen
tleman, when near seventy years of age, several times de-

30,4 LEGENDS OF, T.HE
tailed these facts to the writer, he made at the time a writ
ten statement of the same, which he asks permission to
transcribe in the old captain's own language :
" I was, on the day of Harmar's defeat, more properly
called Hardin's defeat, one of the Kentucky militia, and
in that unfortunate battle with the Maumees. There was
a small creek that mouthed in the river St. Joseph just
above the junction of that river with the St. Mary. The
army occupied the best position, as it was supposed by
the field officers, to fire succssfully on the Indians, who
were by them at that time, believed to be principally em
bodied about three hundred yards back from said creek,
but covered from our view by some large timber and a
considerable amout of tall sedge grass. The army was
then directed to cross the creek, which they did. The
company of militia of which 1 was lieutenant and Millen
captain, marched and crossed in front, the federal or reg
ular soldiers commanded by Maj. Wyllys in the center,
while one or two companies of the militia were to bring
up the rear. Our company had barely reached the op
posite shore of the creek before the Indians, rising from
a. bank formed by a sort of lagoon, a very short: distance
in front (a position they had taken unobserved), began to
fire with all vengeance and: effect upon us, and particu
larly upon: the regulars, now in the act of crossing. In, a
very few minutes, as well as: I could judge, they killed and
badly wounded the wholeof them, insomuch that on look
ing back, the creek seemed perfectly dammed up with
the dead or: dying, and red with their blood.
" We all rushed forward, notwithstanding the Indians
were thick before us, nay, indeed, almost surrounding us,
taking to trees. Near me, and in full view, my captain
was Bhot down; a ball striking him near the center of
bis fonehead, and a, little above his eyesj Finding! myself
now again with Indians all around me,, I sought a better
position, ran afew yards farther out in the /woods, and, had
to leap a large fallen poplar across my way. Placing: my

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 305
left hand on its top, with my rifle in my right, I leaped
it. At the time I sprang, I have reasons to think many
shot at me ; as the bark of the poplar was knocked up
into my eyes and all around me, yet I was untouched.
Two pair of extra moccasins tied to my belt, around my
waist must have been, at that time, shot through with
more than one bullet, as I found afterwards three distinct
holes in them. They could not have been made at any
other time without striking my body.
" Again I took my position behind a tree, from whence
I loaded and fired twice. But again finding myself sur
rounded by the enemy, who had for a time ceased firing,
and in every direction seemed closing in upon us, with
their tomahawks waving high over their heads, I started
on a run in the direction I saw the fewest of them. In
doing so I met a tall old Indian, quite gray, decorated
like a chief, with a young warrior on each side, all with
uplifted tomahawks waving over their heads. These I
had to pass ; and rushing up to the old chief, jabbed the
muzzle of my rifle against his naked abdomen and fired,
seeing the powder burn all over it ; I clubbed the gun, in
stantly knocked down the young ones by his side, right
and left, and jumped over them. At that instant a small
Irishman, of our company, ran past me, saying :
" Och ! lutennon, and what shall we do now ? "
"I said, ' run like the devil.'
" On he scudded, with might and main, but I never
saw him more. I ran, myself, about a half a mile, as
well as I can now judge, up the creek, loading and firing
once before I reached the place where I leaped down the
bank, and imperfectly concealed myself under its low
clay bank, which had been, when the water was high
and the current strong, carved out in the clay, leaving,
as it was, at this time, at a low ebb, a small cluster
of water willows growing on a small sand bank directly
between me, as I lay in the curve, and the main current
there flowing: There, as incredible as it may seem, I
20

306 LEGENDS OF THE
was at the mercy of an overruling Providence, almost mi
raculously kept undiscovered by the keen lynx eyes of a
dozen, at least, of the savages, who, in full view, came
and clipped water, and some of them waded past me up
the stream.
" I am not superstitious. For many years, both before
and since that time, notwithstanding what I had from my
earliest boyhood read in the Bible and been taught by
my pious parents, I believed in no spiritual existences,
neither in Heaven or hell. But it is due to mercy and
truth for me to say, in this narrative, of that alarming
condition in which I then laid, stretched along the bank,
that I was induced to choose that place, and seek safety
there from the hosts of savages, by having plainly pre
sented to my natural or mental vision, a hand, the ap
pearance of which I can never forget; pointing directly
to that spot for safety.
"As the Indians waded into, and past me, in the
stream, resting at full length on my right elbow, never
theless with my gun cocked and ready — determined to
fire if I discovered one looking at me, and put his eye
out. But great was my surprise and absolute bewilder-
.ment, as 1 heard over my head, by the jaring of the
ground, Indians walking up and down the bank, and
giving water to their wounded, as it seemed, from their
horrible groans and screams. For when the step would
appear to be a little beyond and above my head, suppos
ing that from thence it would be perfectly easy to see it,
and imagining sometimes I felt the deadly ball twisting
into my crown ; yet strange as it may seem, I tell with
truth the stranger circumstance, that while in that state
of alarm, such was my fatigue of body and mind, I fell
asleep, and did not awake till it was quite dark.
"With the utmost caution, however, I rose, first rest
ing on my knees, then stood up, listening to every whis
pering breeze and rustling leaf; then slowly and cau
tiously directing my steps to the ground on which the

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 307
battle commenced, feeling, that from thence, I could best
direct my course back to the camp, at which we had left
Gen. Harmar and the largest portion of his troops, two
hours before day. The moon was about an hour high,
and by its light I stealthily crept, entered the field of
death, went to the spot where I had seen my captain fall,
turned his body over and put my finger into the hole in
his forehead where the ball with which he was killed, en
tered. I knew, even by that light, many of the slain of
my company ; although their features were very gre*atly
distorted in the agonies of death. All were scalped, and
rifled of their arms and accoutrements, as well as much
of their apparel.
" While thus passing about in this awful and solemn
scene, to the relief of my troubled thoughts, upOn the sub
ject of finding my way back to the camp, I heard the
booming roar of the cannon, fired at camp, to direct the
return of any straggling soldiers, through the dense forestB,
through which they must pass. Thus it was fired at the
end of each hour through the night. I was aware, that
to catch such and put them to death, would be the effort
of the Indians, and therefore resolved not to travel on the
route along which the army had in the morning come,
but at the distance of some hundreds of yards, occasion
ally turning to it to be assured I was steering the proper
course. Once so returning to the track or road made in
the morning, I came in sight of Indian fires, and just be
fore me saw lying on the ground the figures of two men,
who appeared to he asleep. I knew, therefore, if they were
Indians, as I thought them to be, and I attacked them and
failed to kill them, a noise from shooting by me or them, or
a yell by them, would at once bring hundreds of the sava
ges about me, and death would be inevitable. I, neverthe
less, thought it was so fine an opportunity to give two of
the infuriated destroyers of my friends on that hapless
day, their eternal quietus, I would try it anyway. In
preparing for my frontier campaigns against the Indians,

3.08 LEGENDS OF THE
having been accustomed to the use of the bayonet and the
musket, I at a neighboring blacksmith's shop procured a
butcher's knife wrought, handle and blade, of steel — the
handle made to fit exactly my large-bored rifle, so as to
do very well on an occasion of need as a bayonet, and
when pushed down pretty well, answered very well as
such. So with my gun in my left hand, my tomahawk
in my right, one of the Indians I could pin to the ground,
and cleave the head of the other at the same instant with
my axe in my right hand. Thus.armed, I crept to within
a step of them, paused again to reflect upon the danger
to which I should be exposed by a failure, concluded it
was too hazardous, and began slowly and cautiously to
retreat, walking backwards till I reached near thirty
yards, and then turned and ran at no slow pace out into the
woods and resumed my travel for Harmar's camp, which
I reached at about eleven o'clock at night, — spoke to the
sentinel, who knew my voice, and admitted me within
the lines.
" Among my numerpus friends in the camp much ap
prehension, I found, had been entertained by them of my
being among the slain- One had agreed he would take
this, and another that article to my wife at home, of my
small store of camp equipage and clothing. I had the
pleasure, however, easily to convince them all, I was not
killed, and to permit me to take charge of my property
without let or hindrance."
" Night closed around the conqueror's way,
And lightnings showed the distant hill,
Where those who lost that dreadful day,
Stood few and faint, but fearless still.
" The soldier's hope, the patriot's zealj
Forever dimm'd, forever crossed ?
Oh! who shall say what^heroes feel,
When all but life and honor's lost ? " — Moore.

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 309

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Lord Rawdon's inhuman execution of Col. Isaac Hayne — Death of
Hayne's wife and child — Some thoughts on these sad occurrences.

" Authority !
Show me authority in honor's garb,
And I will down upon the humblest knee
That ever homage bent to sovereign sway ; —
But, shall I reverence pride, and hate, and rapine ?
No ! when oppression stains the robe of state,
And power's a whip of scorpions in the hands
Of heartless knaves, to lash the overburthened back
Of honest industry, — the loyal blood
Will turn to bitterest gall, and the o'ercharged heart,
.Explode in execration," — Shakspeare.
In pursuing the sketches of those extraordinary men,
Captains John Ashby and Thomas McClanahan, who,
for years in Virginia, took part in the war of American
independence, and coming to the West, shared largely
in the perils, dangers and toils of the bloody conflicts
with the savage allies of Britain, in the wilderness, as
fitly characteristic and discriptive of the courageous and
hardy sons of the colonies, — whom God, in his providence,
had transplanted from the shores of the Old World ; re
leased from the chains of European political and ccclesias -
tical tyranny, and reared under circumstances by which
they were inured to the endurance of trials and hardships,
calculated above all other training, to make them the
unconquerable advocates of civil and religious liberty ;
and most effectually to resist British oppression in the
new hemisphere — our respected readers may have sup
posed we had relinquished our tales of the war of
independence, as it was sustained in the older portions
of the colonies, and taken our transit across the Apalla-

310 LEGENDS OF THE
chian heighths of America, to view in accordance with
our pledge in the title of this work, the earlier settlements
of the West. But, with their generous indulgence, we
wish yet to interest them with the narrative of the
achievements of our fathers at Eutaw Springs, King's
Mountain, Guilford, Yorktown, &c, &c.-% where their
efforts were crowned with the most glorious triumphs,
yet untold and unpublished in any of the histories, — or,
if spoken of or mentioned at all, in very meagre terms,
pertaining to that heaven-blessed epoch of all our coun
try's greatness and glory.
We therefore proceed to speak of that good and heroic
victim to British malignity, and martyr to the cause of
American liberty, Col. Isaac Hayne. Taken prisoner of
war, at the siege of Charlestown, South Carolina, when
invested and conquered by Gen. Clinton, he took the oath
of allegiance to the British government upon the express
condition, and distinct agreement, that while he would
not engage in the war against the parent state, so also he
was not to be in any case, compelled or required by
the British authorities to take up arms and fight against
his own beloved country. He accordingly was permitted
and actually retired to the position and enjoyment of his
home and family — the society of his most accomplished
and beautiful wife and two innocent babes, as a private
citizen. Thus he remained, until in violation of the con
dition of his oath of allegiance, and the solemn promises
of the commanding officers, he was summoned by author
ity of Lord Rawdon, left by Cornwallis in command in
South Carolina, to join the British standard. He refused,
and was in consequence, charged with treason, brought
before Col. Balfour and a court martial, and sentenced to
be hanged on the 4th of August, 1781.
In vain did he urge his just defence before that court.
In vain did the innocence of his wife and helpless infants,
plead for his release from crime and punishment.
Strangely, however, several historians in America in'

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 311
writing of this extraordinarv event and unjust treatment
on the part of the British officers at Charlestown, take
occasion to pass a flattering and most unjustifiable com
pliment upon Rawdon, to the effect that in his deep
sympathy for that unfortunate young patriot, he, Raw
don, greatly desired to arrest the violence and cruelty of
his sentence, but was overruled by the other officers, and
signed as commander the order for his execution. What!
Rawdon, a sympathizer for Hayne ? The man that had
given countenance to and himself repeatedly ordered the
unceremonious execution of dozens of the citizens of South
Carolina, in every cruel and inhuman form, almost for no
other offence than that of having once in some instance
or some war, in which his king was engaged, borne arms
and fought in his behalf, and afterwards fought under the
banner of the Whigs for liberty! And who had in a
thousand instances connived at, to say the least, if not
himself the immediate actor in it, the forfeiture ahd con
fiscation of the property belonging to innocent men,
women and children, under some pretence of treason to
the king in the revolution of the American colonies, then
going on openly and avowedly! Such a man moved by
sympathy in behalf of Col. Isaac Hayne! The signer of
his merciless death warrant, have feelings of sympathy!
As well might it be published by historians that the
mousing cat has sympathy for the victimized mouse
within its claws, the Wolf for the lamb, the tiger for the
innocent fawn, or the dreaded and despicable hyena for
the corpse scratched from its grave.
Col. Hayne, by the order of Rawdon, was ignom-
iniously hung in the presence of his lovely little boy !
— who after witnessing his father's last expiring struggle,
upon that same bloody scaffold, instantly expired him
self! Aye, and the heart-stricken wife and mother, hav
ing lingered but a brief space behind, a monument of
British injustice and brutality, then died also.

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 312
What was his crime and with what was he even
charged, before the court martial by which he was tried?
Taking up arms in the war when a paroled prisoner, and
refusing to obey Rawdon's summons to fight in the
British cause, in the war in which he was a prisoner on
parol ! Having taken the oath of allegiance to the king
when it was distinctly agreed and understood in taking
such oath, that he was not to be required so to do. The
former charge he denied, and it was left without the
shadow of proof to sustain it. The latter he confessed as
true. He had, he said, refused to obey Rawdon's order to
fight in the British cause against bis country — against
his countrymen ; and " this was the very head and front
of his offending," before his arraignment. But there were
several secret causes operating to seal his fate. One of
these was a vile determination about that time prompting
the British officers to make a victim of some distinguished
young American, right or wrong, justly or unjustly, to
wreak their vengeance upon him for the just punishment
of Maj. Andrew, as a spy in the army of Gen. Washing
ton. And another was, old Balfour owed Col. Hayne a
deadly hate for having told him to his face, when brought
before him, to answer to the charge and responding to
his haughty address, how much he detested and defied
him, for his vile treatment of the inhabitants of Charles-
town, while their temporary governor, and his thieving
extortions made upon them, to enrich his private coffers.
His destiny became thereby irrevocably sealed ; yes, to
the haughty words addressed to him by Balfour, when a
prisoner about to be arraigned and tried for his life, be
fore him, Col. Hayne. knowing his crimes and extortions
under cover of authority, as above mentioned, and des
pising him and his power, when the former said to him,
in the most insulting manner: "How dare you, sir, have
the insolence when his majesty commanded, and through'

313

LEGENDS OF THE

Lord Rawdon, required you to enter his service, to put
down the d — d rebels, how dare you disobey." Hayne
replied to him in the spirit of a freeman : —
"Authority!
Show me authority in honor's garb,
And I will down upon the humblest knee
That ever homage bent to sovereign sway ;
But shall I reverence pride, and hate, and rapine ?
No! when oppression stains the robe of state,
And power's a whip of scorpions in the hands
Of heartless knaves to lash the o'erburthened back
Of honest industry, — the loyal blood
Will turn to bitterest gall, and the o'ercharged heart,
Explode ;in execration."
This fixed his doom. This truthful discription of Col.
Balfour, and of his disgraceful administration, had the
effect only to infuriate Balfour's ignoble heart, incapable
as it was of any sentiment of magnanimity or compassion ;
and Hayne was hung in the presence of his family, and
his hosts of weeping friends — and his little boy virtually
murdered. One only of the once happy family survived
— Robert Y. Hayne ! — all murdered by British cruelty !
I have said this barbarian course of warfare characterized
the acts of the British in this war, especially in the earlier
portion of it. I repeat the assertion. When the revolu
tion began, it is evident to any one who will read its
history, mark the conduct and observe the language
employed toward the Golonists by the British, here and at
home, that they regarded themselves, as waring against
uncivilized savages ; a mere banditti, an undisciplined,
Bemi- civilized, irrational body of insurgents, or presump
tuous rebels, and mercilessly adopted their course of
conduct, that is, to mortal conflict, as between sav
ages. Hence they justified the employment of the most
ferocious and brutal- savages, armed and sent forth to
tomahawk our men, women and chijdren ; enlisted and
incited the Tories, little, less brutal and ferocious than the
red men of the wilderness, to carry murder and rapine to

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 314
the families and hearth-stones of every patriot ; and lastly,
though not least, in point of heartless brutality and in
iquity, armed the slaves and sent them forth to butcher
and destroy without discrimination of age or sex, their
masters and mistresses, and the families to which they
belonged. But, we admit, toward the latter portions of that ardent
struggle — after it was found the people and armies of the
colonies, had the power and as a principle of self-defence.
under the circumstances the moral courage, to retaliate
upon them, for their frequent practices of savage and
brutal conduct in the war, some improvement was mani
fested, perhaps, in matter and manner of their hostile
tactics. Here, again, it might seem proper our chapter
should close, and other topics of a legendary character be
introduced ; but having taken a view to some considera
ble extent, of the plan and principles upon which the
government of England, and the officers sent here to
subdue the Americans, commenced and conducted the
war, we cannot forego the privilege of turning with pride
to a contemplation and contrast of the men, who in the
continental congress of 1776, organized, gave form, body
and spirit to the great continental confederation and
league of the colonies ; and who brought forth and pro
claimed to a wondering world, the birth of a new national
existence, based upon the broad palladium of moral, ra
tional and religious liberty ! "The rights of man!" —
Freedom from all unscriptural, political and ecclesiastical
bondage. Yet upon these the proud Briton affected to
look with contempt, and treat as mere adventurers the peo
ple whom they there represented ; the army by them organ
ized, and by them in dignified conclave regulated and
controled, to maintain the mortal conflict, according to
the laws of civilized nations, and the dictates of christian
philanthropy. Of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, in an earlier
portion of these Legends, we have already sufficiently

315 LEGENDS OF THE
spoken in terms of praise. Nor was it among ordinary
or less than superior minds, those two enjoyed a sublime
preeminence. With them sat a patriot sage, the practical
philosopher of nature and science, than whom it is not
the boast of any nation to claim as her son a better writer
or more profound thinker, — Benjamin Franklin. There
Bat also a Patrick Henry, a Richard Henry Lee, a Samuel
Adams, and a host of others, whose manly diction, cogent
eloquence and thrilling oratory, would have well compared
if not surpassed, England's boasted Chathams, Burks,
Sheridans, or Grattaus. Were such men mere adven
turers ? No^no. They were greatest among great men
— mightiest among the mighty'; standing loftiest in a
body or assembly of men, more than half of whom would,
with honor and usefulness, have presided over the de
liberative counsels of any nation.
Hear the language they breathed, the sober thoughts
they indulged, and the conclusions to which they came,
after the adoption of the declaration of independence, in
reviewing the ground they had taken and the costs of its
maintaiDance. "I am not transported with enthusiasm,"
Baid one. " I am well aware of the trial, the treasure,
and the blood it will cost, to maintain this declaration ;
to support and defend these States Yet through all the
gloOm, I can see a ray of light and glory. I can see that
the end is worth more than all the means."
It was not the rash adventure of reckless and uneasy
spirits ; having everything to gain and nothing to lose in
the enterprise. For their country's sake, for civil and
religious liberty's sake, they risked their all "their lives
their fortunes and their sacred honor." Nay, who does
not know that Adams, Jefferson, Henry, Lee, and Frank
lin, and others, distinguished in the nations, counsels and
the army, could, by bowing the suppliant knee ; by flat
tering and fawning, have won the loftiest stations in the
British empire ? Could have reveled in the royal bounty ?
Could have shared the imperial counsels, and could have

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 316
stood in the shadow of that throne they shook to its base?
But with a full comprehension of the whole subject and of
the seeming desperation of their choice, they chose prin
ciple, liberty and their country's glory ! And the dread
voice of authority ; the array of an empire's power ; the
pleadings of friendship ; the yearning of their hearts to
ward the land of their father's graves ; that land the great
and earliest champions of civil constitutional liberty still
made, venerable ; no not even the hideous visions of the
British gibbet deterred them.
They were anything but adventurers; anything but
restless malcontents. Loving peace, order, law and a
manly obedience to constitutional authority ; yet chiefly,
loving freedom and their country, they took up the ark of
her liberties, with pure hands and firm hearts, and bore it
through in triumph ! For their confidence was in God.
"Oh, confidence divine! the good and just,
Who still on heaven rep: se their pious trust,
New laws for attiring, seasons can create,
And thwart the stars malign, and conquer fate." — Tasso.
[ " Life is not lost, from which is brought
Endless renown." — Spencer.
"When liberty is gone,
Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish." —
Addison.

317 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XXIX.

There are, who with purpose dare pursue
Ways wicked and false, rather than true ;
All evils they practice, and take most delight
In the ways of the vicious, in conscience's spite!
Who early in youth listen to sin's vain delusions,
Yield faith, and practice Satanic persuasions.
And, though bad to worse, and good to better, tend,
Downward they plunge, nor upward ere ascend.
Thus ih Satan's snare early captive led,
To crime and iniquity in early life are wed ;
In natural progression, are sure to graduate-
In villainies most horrid ! then charge it all to fate.
--The Author.
It will, by all who have given the preceeding legends
a perusal, be remembered that frequent mention is made
of the notorious cousins, Bill and Josh Harpe, the sons
of John and William Harpe, Scotch covenanters and bro
thers,, who, like their sons and all Scotchmen of that day
in this country, were Tories, or as they called themselves,
Royalista, devoted to the maintainence of the king's au
thority. The fathers, however, prudently kept clear of the vile
practices into which most of the friends of the old king
entered — such as murder, robbing, and rapine ; but their
vile sons, the continuance of whose dreadful lives we
now propose to delineate, ran greedily into every imag
inable excess of those crimes. Having been sedulously
inducted by their fathers into the peculiar doctrines and
tenets of the Calvinistic school, the doctrine of eternal
election and reprobation in their broadest and most un
qualified sense, fully believed every character, good or
bad, was inevitably and immutably fixed in God's foreor-

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 318
dination and decrees from all eternity; and feeling within
themselves a love of iniquity in all its forms, took that as
evidence conclusive, that they were not of the elect to life
and glory ; and therefore determined, as they on more
than one occasion declared publicly, that they were de
creed to be damned, and would therefore indulge to the
full, all their love of crime, and so fill up the measure of
their destiny.
Nor are we prepared to say that, from the premises as
sumed, their reasoning and conclusions were not strictly
logical. Always ' asserting for ourselves, and all scrip
tural record, and all rational deduction, that the entire
doctrine is neither in consonance with man's accounta
bility to his Maker for his moral actions, obedience or
disobedience, nor with the idea of his being the subject of
rewards or punishments. Nevertheless, such was de
clared, as we have said, to have been the opinions and
faith of the two younger Harpes, and such, we believe,
in a vast variety of cases, were the sentiments of many,
so taught, most dangerous in its consequences, and most
dishonoring, of all others, to God. Of this, in truth, the
utter recklessness of life and acts of these most brutal and
terrible men, seem to go very far to establish.
It will be remembered, also, by our readers, that for a
time approaching the close of the revolution, so formida
ble had the Whigs become to the Tories ; so fiercely did
they follow them, that these, with many like them, fled,
some to the settlements and stations formed in the West,
and others to the neighboring savage tribes, from Georgia
and the Carolinas. Big Bill Harpe and Joshua Harpe,
having, at the King's Mountain and other of the battles
they fought under the British standard side by side with
a number of Creek and Cherokee warriors, and a few of
their chiefs with whom they became intimate, went to the
Cherokee nation. For about nine months they remained
with them at their town, near the head waters of the
Tennessee, called Nickajack. Much of that time they

319 LEGENDS OF THE
went upon marauding expeditions with their savage al
lies, to the settlements in Tennessee and Kentucky. Big
Bill was with them at the battle of Blue Lick and at the
attack by the Creeks and Cherokees, on the station where
Nashville is now situated, and at Bledsoe's Lick, seven
miles from the beautiful site of Gallatin.
At about the expiration of nine or ten months, the two
Harpes, with four Cherokees, stealthily returned into
North Carolina, made their way to the vicinity of Hills
boro', and contrived to capture, as we have already re
lated, Maria Davidson, while Cornwallis was at Hills
boro' encamped with his army. They bore her off to the
hunter's cabin, of which we have also spoken, where she
was detained for more than a week, and until Big Bill
Harpe. in company with one Moses Doss and two Chero
kees, Antuka and Ochetta, went to the neighborhood of
Mrs. Wood and seized Susan Wood, daughter of Capt.
John Wood, on her return from a visit to Maj. Simpson's,
as we have also in another legend described.
The two unfortunate girls were not personally acquain
ted, but had often heard of the family to which each be
longed. Maria, during the time, had been kept bound
by cords, and subjected by Josh. Harpe to the most bru
tal and hateful outrages. The relentless villain, after
pretending to entertain a long and deep seated love for
her, although he had never before avowed it — and after
having employed all his powers of persuasion to obtain a
voluntary consent to his wishes, but which she resisted,
notwithstanding she knew she was without hope of escape
from his inexorable power. She loathed and detested
him as a villain, and told him so, in the bitterest hate
and scorn ; hoping, thereby, to provoke his vengeance,
and to obtain death at his hands. But it had the effect
only to provoke his violence in gratifying his diabolical
passions. Poor Maria ! more dead than alive when the
other villains came in bringing the hapless .Susan Wood,
felt a slight and momentary gleam of hope spring up in

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 320
her heart, from the natural feelings of the sorrowful, on
the principal " misery loves company." For it was not
long before she saw poor Susan, in open day, subjected
to the same brutal force, by big Bill Harpe, as she had
been by the other, more than once. They remained at
the hunter's cabin, however, but a few hours, after they
were joined by Bill and his accomplices bringing Susan ;
and each of the unhappy girls being tied by a strong rope
to the saddles on which they rode, on horses, led by the
two Harpes, the whole party set out toward the Blue
Ridge, crossing it in a northernly direction, entered the
vast terra incognita beyond it, being often loosed and
taken from their saddles, even in day-time, to endure the
lustful dalliance of their bestial tormentors. Thus they
traveled rather slowly, crossed the Alleghanies, and with
out anything occuring of strange or very novel character
to retard their progress through the mighty waste to the
nearest settlements of the Cherokee Indians, except that
of a terrible combat between big Harpe and Moses Doss,
whom Harpe slew in the end, leaving his body where it
fell in the wilderness, horribly mangled and disfigured.
The cause of the quarrel was not very distinctly made
known. It was, however, believed that Harpe was under
the influence of a freak of jealousy ; having, as he thought,
seen or discovered a disposition on the part of Doss, to
plead for and secure a less cruel treatment toward the un
fortunate girls, and a disposition to comfort and console
them in their awful condition.
Seldom the poor unfortunates were given an opportu
nity of conversing with each other. Indeed, they were
forbidden to converse, and threatened by their despicable
tyrants with some terrible punishment, if they did.
The gang found it necessary on several days during
their journey to hunt and prepare provisions. At such
times, the girls, with tho exception of one or two left to
guard them, were quite alone ; and as the guard would
often sleep almost the whole time of the absence of the

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE., 321
nity of conversing with each other. Indeed, they were
forbidden to converse, and threatened by their despicable
tyrants with some terrible punishment, if they did.
The gang found it necessary on several days during
their journey to hunt and prepare provisions. At such
times, the girls, with the exception of one or two left to
guard them, were quite alone ; and as the guard would
often sleep almost the whole, time of the absence of the
Harpes, they found an opportunity to talk to each other
and interchange sentiments of condolence and sympathy
for their mutual sufferings. Thus their bursting hearts
seemed relieved. Without these communings, as they
both declared, after they were rescued from the control of
the Harpes and brought into the town of Russell ville,
Kentucky, whose inhabitants, with some exceptions,
treated them with great kindness, they must have died
on that dreadful journey., They learned from the conver
sations of the Harpes that they were going to dwell with
the Indians. ' They said, so terrible was the reality of
their condition, they strove to put the thoughts of that
reality as far from them as possible ; nay, even sought to
forget they ever had a beloved home, beloved parents,
and had enjoyed the bliss of freedom and society. They
felt they had drank to the very dregs the bitterest cup of
suffering life, and: hoped for change, as no change in the
wide circle of vicissitude in human suffering, could be but
for the better.
Alas ! poor young women ; they little thought or knew
the deeper stings of sorrow yet to be endured by them.
There were chords of affection and feeling yet to be rudely
broken, of which they were yet unacquainted, and which
did not, in fact, then exist, but the rending tortures of
which they were doomed to feel.
Maria Davidson was of a more sensitive and delicate
mould, mentally as well as physically, than Susan Wood,.
and consequently less qualified to endure suffering in
either. Miss Wood possessed a more robust person and
21

322 LEGENDS OF THE
a less sensitive mind, accompanied by a sort of elasticity
of temper, by which she was enabled to parry or blunt
the poignancy and agony of pain.
In twenty days they reached Nickajack. This was an
Indian town situated high up near the Tennessee river ;
inhabited by about three hundred Cherokee Indians, in
cluding warriors, squaws, and children. When they ar
rived, the Harpes seemed well known to the Indians, and
from what the girls saw, had been looked for by them.
Considerable joy seemed expressed by all, but particu
larly by the women and children. They all crowded
around them, appearing very curious, and took much
pleasure in examining their dress and every exterior ap
pearance. They were conducted to several wigwams,
and were brought to one in which they saw only an old
Indian and his squaw — both very gray. Here Susan was
told by big Bill Harpe, she must live. Maria was taken
to the lodge of a tall warrior whose squaw had not long
before been killed by a panther, who had left three pap-
pooses, the oldest about six years, and the youngest about
two years of age. There, Joshua told her, they were to
live. Greatly alarmed and disgusted with the appearance of
the Indians around them, and dreadfully sick and wea
ried with the long continued mental and bodily suffering
through which they had passed, each in her respective
lodge sunk on the ground and sat reflecting on the dread
ful condition in which they were placed, with the worst
imaginable forebodings of their future fate. For some
days the treatment from the Harpes they had been sub
jected to in the earlier portion of their imprisonment and
journey, had not been repeated, and they took some
slight consolation, indulging the hope the wretches had
relented and would not in future so assail them. O !
vain the thought, vain the hope. They were not long
thus meditating before their respective brutal tormentors
came, aroused them from their vain delusions and demon-

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 323
strated more violence than ever. Each having spread
upon the floor some buffalo, bear, and deer skins, in ad
dition to those used on the travel, required each hiB vic
tim permptorily, to lie ; preparing to take their positions
by their sides. Alas, poor, lost and ruined girls ! Bet
ter far you had not been born, or had been strangled in
the birth, than live the hapless victims of such a despica
ble doom.
But we will no longer dwell on the unimaginable suf
ferings of the poor girls, for more than two years in that
miserable little Indian village. Twice they became mo
thers, and as often each witnessed during that time their
tender offspring cruelly and most brutally murdered by
their brutal fathers after they had lived long enough
most affectionately to engage and fix a mother's love.
It is true, the two Harpes were often away with the In
dians in depredating expeditions against the white set
tlements in Tennessee and Kentucky, sometimes to hunt,
'often for the space of two or three months ; yet on such
occasions they remained subject to the most constant vig
ilance and watchfulness of the Indian warriors left behind,
and the Indian women. They were, however, generally
treated by these savages with far less cruelty than by the
Harpes ; and experienced some relief from their absence.
At the expiration of between two and three years, the
exact time not remembered, on the night previous to the
attack by some Tennesseeans and Kentuckians under the
command of Capt. A. Jackson, late President of the
United States, upon Nickajack, when he sacked the
town and put every Indian, man, woman, and child, to
death, the Harpes learning in some way that the troops
were coming and would be there the next day, hurried
off secretly, with four Indians, two of those that were
with them when they stole Susan and Maria from North
Carolina, and two others. They went some eight or ten
miles from Nickajack that night, and hid in a cane-break.
Next day one of the Indians went to the place stealth-

324 LEGENDS OF THE
ily, returned at night and told the Harpes the entire vil
lage had been burnt and all the Indians destroyed ; they
then set out, traveled two days and a half to the western
end of a great mountain, believed to be the Cumberland
mountain, where, finding an abundance of game of every
kind, they encamped, and remained about nine months,
during which time Susan Woods gave birth to another
infant boy. While encamped at that place, big Bill
Harpe, with two of the Indians, went to Powell's valley
to get horses ; were gone three weeks, and returned with
four, which they had stolen. But their further opera
tions we will unfpld in another chapter.

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 325

CHAPTER XXX.

Rev. William Lambeth's adventure with Big Harpe — The Harpes
leave their camp at the Cumberland Mountain, and start for the
Ohio — Meet with, murder and rob two Marylanders — Maria Da
vidson's account of that horrible crime — They waylay, murder
and rob a young Virginian — They are chased and secured in
Danville jail — ;They escape and make their way to Springfield —
The two ruined girls their victims, being free, discuss the propriety
of seeking the sympathy and protection of the settlers, — They de
cline doing so — The Harpes return to the women and start for the
neighborhood of Snelling's Station — Again they steal horses and
journey towards what is now Columbia, Adair Co., Ky., where
they are believed to have murdered Col. Trabue's little son — Con
tinue their journey and operations of murder and robbery into
Tennessee, are chased back to the Mammoth Cave, but not cap
tured — Big Harpe murders his qwn child.

Mean though I a,m, yet not wholly
So ; since sovereign mercy for me abounds, and
Undertakes my cause.
In me by nature, since the. fall,
No merit does abide ;
Captive in evils thrall,
All virtue I deride !
Yet by the merits of a Savior's blood,
Freely on Calvary shed;
Repentant, I may follow good;
His merits raise the dead ! — The Author.
Returning from Powell's valley, it is worthy of record
that Big Harpe actually displayed a feeling evidencing,
to a small extent at least, that his vile and most depraved
heart, was not utterly incapable, at some times and under
some circumstances, of the exercise of something like
mercy and a forbearance to shed human blood. It is
probably the only instance in all his life, after the com-

326 LEGENDS OF THE
mencement of his murderous career, in which he had
any one, old or young, in his power and showed less than
a fiendish barbarity.
The Rev. William Lambeth, a young Methodist minis
ter, aged about twenty-three years, sent by Rev. William
McKendree, then presiding elder of all the West, — af
terwards Bishop McKendree, of that church, — was travel
ing from Baltimore Conference, across the mountains, to
form a circuit and preach to the settlers, in what is now
called Middle Tennessee, and the Green River portion of
Kentucky. He had to pass through that part of Tenr
nessee, lying between Knoxville and Nashville, which
was for many years called the wilderness ; there being
no civilized inhabitants occupying it. In his journey
through this wilderness, one night he had kindled a
small fire near the foot of a broad spreading beech, to
cook a little supper as well as to keep off wolves and
panthers during his sleep; and hobbling his horse to
graze on the contiguous cane and grass, — spreading his
blanket-pallet, and committing himself to the care and
keeping of Almighty God, he laid down, making his
saddle-bags his pillow and the moon-lit heavens his only
covering. He was asleep but a short time when he was
awaked by the neighing of his gentle horse. Continuing
awake, wondering at the cause of the neighing, and con
cluding the horse must have heard or smelt some other
horse. In a few minutes he saw creeping toward him a
large man who, as he rose, seized him with an iron grasp
and strong arm, and by the dim light of the moon he
discovered him to be a white man, though terribly black
and ragged, in his attire, and ferocious in his counten
ance. With a blasphemous oath he swore if the least resis
tance was made by Lambeth, he would instantly murder
him. Lambeth being a very small man, only measuring
five feet five inches in heighth and weighing only one
hundred and nine pounds, stood perfectly still; but in a

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 327
mild and slightly agitated tone, asked what he wanted ?
In a broad sort of Scotch dialect the man replied :
"I want all your money and must have your horse, —
you must give them up right now, or I will kill you."
Lambeth took from his pocket his purse of about thirty
dollars, gold and silver, and told him there was his horse
and he could take hiui- He took the purse and found
Lambeth's small bible in his bosom, where he had placed
it when he laid down to sleep. That, he quickly seized,
rapidly turned over the leaves from beginning to end, ap
parently looking for bank bills. There were none there.
But he discovered on the marginal or front page, written
in plain letters, William Lambeth, and also the name
George Washington. To the latter he pointed and asked
if that was the name of the American general. Being
answered in the affirmative, he said, "That is a brave
and good man, but a mighty rebel against the king."
He then asked, if Lambeth had ever seen Gen. Wash
ington, and where ; and being answered that he had in
Richmond, Virginia, he enquired what the latter was
doing away out in the wilderness by himself. Lambeth
told him he bad come to preach the Gospel. He asked
if he preached from that bible, and being answered affir
matively, be enquired if he had ever been in the country
where he was going to preach. "No" was the response.
" You can never get there without your horse," he
said, and then pausing, as if in a deep study, loosing his
grasp at the same time, — "Nor," he after a minute said,
"can you do without your money,"
L. told him he could try. A few moments then again
intervened and he said, " You must keep both," throwing
down the purse, and saying,, "My name is William
Harpe," quickly disappeared. Harpe never spoke of this
meeting to any one, except to Susan Wood, who said in
Rnssellville, to the writer, that when he reached the camp,
"He told me he had seen the little preacher in the
wilderness."

328 LEGENDS OF THE
Lambeth himself frequently spoke of all the circum
stances, as above detailed, many years afterwards ; twice
in the writer's presence, in narrative, and once in a ser
mon from the pulpit, in arguing the special protecting
Providence of God, over his servants, — instancing also
God's closing the mouths of the lions in saving Daniel,
in their den ; and in quenching the fires of the dreadful
furnace into which the tyrant cast Shadrack, Mesheek
and Abednego.
From the camp at Cumberland Mountain, in a day or
two after the return of Big Barpe, with the Indians who
had gone with him, bringing the horses stolen from
Powell's valley, they all set out to go to the Ohio through
Kentucky, entering near the Crab Orchard.
The Harpes having once or twice passed through that
part of Kentucky, on expeditions against the inhabitants
there, and Boone's Station, knew the. localities pretty well,
and knowing, as good woodsmen, when they were coming
pretty near the white settlements, the Indians dare not
go among them, they,- separated and the Indians steered
directly for Muldrow's Station, to secret themselves in
the neighborhood, till the Harpes came, having gone
from the Crab Orchard to Logan's Station, from thence
to Harrod's, thence to a settlement where Springfield is
now situated, and from thence to the place at which the
Indians were to meet them.
Within a few miles from the Crab Orchard, while
traveling" along the trace leading to Logan's Station, — two
gentlemen, apparently travelers, came in company. They
were both Marylanders, as was afterwards ascertained
from papers in their possession. One by the name of
Paca, and the other Bates. Bates was a man some thirty
years of age, and Paca between twenty-five and thirty.
They were both stout, — mounted on fine horses, and
armel with rifles. It was agreed between them and
the Harpes, that they would travel in company to Lo
gan's. In a few hours a considerable shower of rain set

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 329
in and, as Susan Woods related in Russelville, "We were
detained several hours sheltering under the foliage of a
thick cluster of trees." Doubts were expressed by the
travelers, that there was any chance for them to reach
Logan's Station that evening; and that they would have
to camp another night. " Instantly," said Maria when
also relating the circumstances of this part of their travel
in Kentucky, " I saw from what passed between the
Harpes, who, when those remarks were made by one of
the Marylanders, were standing near each other, — in low
whispers and significant looks between them, that some
desperate purpose was occupying their minds. Big Harpe
remarked to the traveler quickly and rather in a persua
sive manner not to think of such a thing as going oh,
for they would be in danger of an attack from the Indians,
as he was sure there were many Cherokee Indians then
ranging in that part of Kentucky ; for they bad seen four
of them as they came on, and he was certain they were
on their track to take advantage of them at night."
"I understood this as thrown out" said Susan Wood,
" to induce the travelers to keep company with them till
night, knowing as he did, from having been on expedi
tions through that part of the country, with the Cherokees,
that it would be impossible to reach the point before night,
and the gentlemen expressed a wish immediately to keep
together, for their mutual protection."
" I had no difficulty in forming an opinion of the scene
that would that night occur," said Maria, still also re
lating the story. "I knew the Harpes had formed a
scheme of murder and robbery. If I had dared I would
have given them notice of their danger ; but if I had been
seen by either of them, speaking to them they would
have suspected me and treated me as though I had be
trayed them, and would have taken my life. I therefore
could only keep silence."
Night came on, and the Station was yet at least twenty
miles distant. The party came to a small branch in a

330 LEGENDS OF THE
sort of open glade, and Bates proposed that they should
there encamp and stay all night. Bill Harpe, said no;
they would go a mile farther and find water which he
thought he remembered, and more grass. So they went
on till it grew dark. Suddenly, the two Harpes, seemed
as if by accident to change position — Bill Harpe getting
behind Bates, and Josh directly following Paca, — the
two women eight or ten yards in the rear. Suddenly,
both the Harpes fired, and the two unfortunate Mary-
landers fell. One of them was found dead, as soon as the
light was raised, and the other, Paca, not dead, but
speechless, seeming to be trying to get to his feet. Josh
Harpe, however, soon ended the struggle, by splitting
open his head with a hatchet or tomahawk he carried in
his belt. Quickly the pockets as well as the entire bag
gage of the murdered men, were searched and rifled of
everything Valuable. A considerable amount of money,
some gold and silver, and a large quantity of continental
paper was found.
They stripped the bodies of their clothes they had on,
and emptied their saddle-bags -also of the shirts and other
apparel, which fitted the Harpes pretty well — so that each
of them appeared after that, in tolerable decent trim for
woodsmen. Big Bill, had not worn a hat for more than
two years. In a drunken carouse with the Indians at
Nickajack, his old hat brought from North Carolina, was
burnt by a drunken Indian. He "whanged," together
some pieces of deer skin, with the hair outside and wore
it for * a covering to , his head in very cold or snowy
weather; but not often. When he put on the pants and
coat of Bates, who was a large man, and also his hat
which fitted well, he seemed proud of his supposed im
proved appearance, and had the impudence, putting on a
less turbid and threatening countenance, than he had
ever shown her before, to ask Susan Wood, if she did
not think he looked like a handsome gentleman.
Josh also rigged himself out, in the clothing of Paca,—

WAK OF INDEPENDENCE. 331
and having packed up what of the goods and clothing of
the Marylanders, they wished to bear off with them, they
started and traveled about a mile through the woods, —
stopped and camped at a small branch ; leaving the al
most naked bodies of the murdered men, to be food for
wolves, panthers and other inhabitants of the caves and
dense forests of the "dark and bloody ground."
Next morning, apprehending it might not be safe to
pass Logan's or Harrod's Station with the horses, cloth
ing and other equippage of Bates and Paca, which might
be known by some one, they changed their course, steer
ing over towards the south-west, and fell into a road or
trace, leading to Green River.
The third day from the time they left the Crab Orchard,
a report reached there that a wealthy young Virginian,
by the name of Lankford, had been robbed and murdered,
on the wilderness road, as it was then and is now called
— somewhere in the Rock Castle hills. The suspicion
that fell upon those despicable men, was justly founded,
for they had fallen in with him near where they entered
that road, traveling alone. Instantly he was shot, rifled
of all his money, — his body thrown into a deep sink, and
his horse escaping to the Crab Orchard, first excited the
suspicion of his fate, at that place.
They were followed by a company of twelve men, who
ultimately "overtook them in a camp on Green River, and
were all taken to Danville and imprisoned. But before
their trial came on they broke jail and cleared themselves ;
leaving all their horses and other effects behind.
From Danville they made their way during the night
of their escape, to the neighborhood of Springfield, where
they camped, keeping very close till the second day, when
the Harpes set out alone, as they said, to go to where the
Cherokee Indians were to meet them ; leaving Maria and
Susan with her baby alone at the camp. In two days
they returned with two horses, saddles and bridles, and
two of the four Cherokees.

332 LEGENDS OF THE
While they were away the two women having a fair
opportunity to fly to one or other of the white settlements
and appeal to them for protection, — conversed with' each
other whether they ought not to do so, but fearing they
Would again be taken to Danville, imprisoned and roughly
treated, if not condemned for the murder of Lankford, for
which they were indicted with the Harpes, Maria said :
" Susan, what shall we gain by doing so, even if we es
cape from the imprisonment and the prosecution ? We
are forever ruined and disgraced ; and must forever be
the objects of the scorn and contempt of all respectable
persons, never to be received again by our relations in
North Carolina, nor here or there, otKerwise treated than
as the debased and defiled mistresses of horrible mur
derers and Tories ! Oh God ! far rather would I die in
the wilderness, yea at once, on the murderess' gallows,
than endure such a torture as scorn like that would in
flict." So they concluded still to abide their fate.
The same day the Harpes with the two Indians re
turned. All set out and in a short distance crossed
Muldrow's Hill, and steering south-west, passed through
the neighborhood of the present location of Greensburgh,
and encamped on the bank of Green River, within that
vicinity. Fron} this they again returned to the neighborhood of
Snelling's Station, in what is now the most southerly part
of Nelson County, Kentucky, where they committed sev
eral robberies and stole several horses. Again they pro
gressed to the south-west,^ — entered Adair County, or
what is now Adair County, and are believed to have
murdered not distant from where Columbia is now lo
cated, Col. Trabue's little son of very tender years ; from
whom they took a small bag of meal or flour, and threw
his body into a sink-hole, where his bones, some years
after, were found and identified.
Again they passed on to, and entered Tennessee — and
near old Fort Blunt, met with a small girl distant from

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 333
her home only one fourth of a mile, passing to a neigh
bor's house, murdered her most wantonly and left her in
the woods. At the old Fort some soldiers were quartered
and when, the day after, the body of the child was found,
a gentleman, Capt. Bedford, from Georgia, who hap
pened to be at, the Fort, but not in command, headed,
nevertheless, six mounted soldiers from that place ; and
getting on the trail of the murderers followed them across
the Kentucky line, out into the Barrens, as they were
then called, in the Green River country, and into the
neighborhood of the Mammoth Cave, or at least eight or
nine miles north west of Prewitt's Knob, and finally los
ing all trace of them, after a diligent search for more
than a day and a half, abandoned the pursuit and re
turned home.
The fact is, as the women afterwards disclosed, they
had hid in the Mammoth Cave, or some other remarkably
large one, where they remained for two or three weeks.
From thence they passed down Barren River, near to
the mouth of Gasper's River, and murdered a Mr. Stump,
with whom they met when hunting. His body being
shortly after found, the alarm was given through the
sparcely settled neighborhood, and a number followed
them through the country for two or three days.
Before these vile fiends, however, passed the village of
Russell ville, and when, within three or four hundred yards
of the residence of Mr. Samuel Wilson, the infant of
Susan Wood, about nine months old, being very sick and
crying all the morning, so that nothing could quiet it,
Big Harpe snatched it from its mother's arms, slung it by
the heels against a large tree by the path-side, and liter
ally bursting its head into a dozen pieces — threw it from
him as far as his great strength enabled him into the
woods. This was the third of his children by poor Susan
he had murdered and in like manner destroyed.

334 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Harpes and Cherokees continue their blood-thirsty journey—
At the point of the Clay Lick woods they murder, strip, and mu
tilate the families and servants of two brothers — They are chased
by a party from Russellville and Drumgool's stations — The Harpes,
in the meantime, murder Stegall's family near the Double Licks,
rob and burn up his home- — They are overtaken at the " Lone
some Oak" by the pursuing party — Big Harpe and one Indian
is killed, and the head of the former hung on a tree — Stegall at
tempts to murder Susan Woods— Is restrained and wholly checked
by Wm. Stewart, of Russellville-^Maria Davidson and Susan
Woods are taken with the return party to Russellville — Excite
ment of the populace against them — They are privately conveyed
out of town to a place of safety — Maria is subsequently married.

We range the fields and woods
Like beasts of prey. Murder
And robbery mark our path ;
Our hands are wet with human blood,
And human life and hopes are withered
At our touch. Avaunt 1 Hell
Gapes and opens for our treacherous souls,
Accursed alike of God and man — Impromptu.
Passing about one half mile on the north of Russell
ville, this blood-thirsty party crossed big Whippoorwill
about eight miles west of Russellville, and traveling
through the very level and naked barrens of the west side
of the above named creek, entered what is called the big
Cave, where they housed themselves for the space of two
weeks, hunting in the day (for game was very abundant)
and at night carousing and debauching. On the day
before they moved from the cave, one of them discovered,
near sundown, two brothers and their families, by the
name of Titsword. Each with a wife, several children,
and a few black servants. He watched them at a dis-

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 335
tance until they stopped at what was for many years
called the point of the Clay lick woods, saw them halt,
and prepare to encamp by the bank of the Claylick
branch. Narrating what he had seen on returning to the
cave, it was determined to make all things ready at day
break, proceed to the place, attack the camp, rob and
murder them, and then proceed on their journey to the
Ohio, and to Stack Island. This bloody resolution, these
demons in human form but too successfully executed. At
the break of day they sallied forth, the 'Harpes, the two
Cherokees, and the two women. It was only about a
mile and a quarter to the fatal spot — the camp of the
Titswords and their innocent wives and children. As
soon as it was light enough to shoot, they all, except the
women, fired on the peaceful families, most of whom were
still reposing in quiet sleep, and at the first fire one of
the brothers was instantly killed, also one of the wives
and several of the innocent children ! . The other bro
ther escaped unhurt, ran out from his tent, leaving his
wife shot through the heart, and one of his children mor
tally wounded, supposing they were attacked by a large
band of Indians; got into the buffalo trace along which
they traveled the day before, and ran back eight miles,
quite in his undress, to Drumgool's station, in Logan
county, Kentucky, near the Tennessee line, precisely
where the village of Adairville is now situated. There a
company of nine men was raised, who set out immedi
ately for the dreadful scene of cruelty and death. Some
passing by Russellville, the county seat of all Green river
at that time, where, also, ten or fifteen more set oul;
for the point of the Claylick woods. When they reached
the place, most horrible was the spectacle they beheld !
The ground covered for a space with the bodies of men,
women, and children, white and black ! Some of them
dreadfully mangled; and some stripped to the skin.
This was especially the condition of. the two sisters-in-
law. The men immediately, or most of them, set to work

336 LEGENDS OF THE .
in digging a large deep grave in which to bury the dead,
masters, mistresses and servants, in one common grave,
whose mingled ashes must there rest till " the last loud
trump shall bid the dead arise."
Meanwhile, several of the most experienced of them,
went forth to find the trail of the bandits. Within a short
distance they ascertained they had taken the buffalo trace
along which the Titswords had traveled for some days
before, and which those primitive inhabitants of this vast
wilderness — the buffaloes — by hundreds, and, perhaps,
sometimes by thousands, used to travel from Bledsoe's
licks, in Tennessee, to the day lick and Double licks ;
and so on to the Highland lick, near the Ohio. Accor
ding to the arrangement between themselves, in the
morning following, ten or twelve of the most active and
efficient of the men from Russellville and Drumgool's
station were to follow and endeavor to apprehend the
murderers; if Indians, destroy them, or if whites, to
bring them to Russellville for punishment. Of the num
ber of those who set out next morning to pursue the
Harpes and Indians from Russellville and Drumgool's
station, were William Stewart of the former, and John
Mann of the latter place. The. former was a man of
great originality of character. More distinguished through
a long life of the most hazardous adventure — possessing a
nature of extraordinary malignity of purpose and action,
deep design, dark and v yet more certain in execution of
such purposes and designs — than personal prowess or
moral courage. The latter was a man of great bodily
strength, indomitable courage and pacific temperament.
More of them, however, we shall take occasion to speak
in another place in these legends.
The Harpes, from where they perpetrated the murder
of the Titswords, fled, as we have already said, along the
buffalo trace on to the Claylick ; from thence to the Dou
ble licks, near which, at the distance of eight miles from
the latter place, was situated the house of Stegall. They

wab Of independence. 337
found his wife and four children there, and also a negro
woman and two of her children. Stegall was from home.
They put them all to death, robbed the house of every
thing they desired to take off with them, and putting all
the slain in one pile in the dwelling, set fire to it and
burned it to ashes. At night the unfortunate husband
and father came home and found everything consumed.
He went that night to the house of his acquaintance,
Samuel Leeper, and told the horrible tale. Early in the
morning Stegall and his neighbor Leeper returned to
Stegall's house, saw the burning bones of the family con -
sumed. They hunted for the tracks of the murderers,
were not long in finding them, and commenced the pur
suit. On their way they passed by the residence of
McBey, another neighbor.
Still the murderers kept the buffalo trace, and traveled
rapidly. Others of Stegall's and Leeper's neighbors heard
of the occurrence and joined in the race till the number
increased to eight or ten. The pursuers traveled during
that entire day, and, did not overtake them. They en
camped that night near to what was called the Lonesome
Oak, well known in all that country for standing *out
" solitary and alone " in the midst of a body of very level
barrens of four or five thousand acres with no tree, or
even a shrub within a mile's distance.
Again in the morning, as soon as light, they recom-
menced the pursuit and traveled about twelve miles, when-
suddenly they came upon the camp of the 'bandits. Big
Harpe first discovered them, and instantly gave the
alarm, mounted his fine young mare, rushed to the some
what steep bank of Pond river near at h&nd^ forced her to-
leap into the stream, swam to the opposite shore and en
deavored to make his escape. Leeper followed him in
hot haste, had to cross at a place some distance lower-
down the stream, but getting across, soon was upon the
plain track made by Harpe in the thick tall pea vines ;.
and being mounted on one of the fleetest of horses, in-
22

338

LEGENDS. OF THI&

about a mile and a half came near enough, to shoot an<3
put, a ball through Harpe's right thigh, some three or
four inches above his knee, and kill his horse outright.
They both fell together, Harpe's gun rolling off from him
fifteen or twenty feet as he fell. Leeper came up to him
while he was growling and writhing like a wounded
tiger, struggling to get up and reach his gun. It was
impossible. He then sunk down and commenced cursing
and defying his assailant in the most ferocious and bitter
terms, blasphemous oaths and denunciations. Then
begged for water, as he said he{was famishing with want,
and seemed to, sink down in a swoon. Leeper's pity op
magnanimity was awakened,; he ran hastily to, the river,
about a hundred and fifty yards distant, dipped his hat
full, but ere he got back to hinj, Stegall had- come up,
and cut. the murderer's, throat fron?, ear to ear, which
with the next blow he entirely severed, and afterwards
hung hjs head upon a tree at the forkp of the road from,
HopkinsviUe to Morganfield, and Madisonville — a place
still known and, called Harpe's Mead.
One of the Indians, who had accompanied them and
was at the camp when it was reached, fled; on foot and
endeavored to follow big Harpe in his flighty but was un
able to get more than a half a mile down the river before
McBey overtook and killed him and left his body, as was
also that of big Bill Harpe, to feed the wolves, wild cats,
and, panthers of the Pond river bottoms, and dense forests.
Returning to the camp from, where the Harpes and Indi
ans had fled, and at which several of the men who had
accompanied them had stopped, they found Maria David
son and Susan Woodsfc Instantly Stegall recognized the
calico dress of his murdered wife upon Susan Woods*.
His fury was, greatly aroused, and he made several at
tempts to, slay her and, tear it from her person. With
much difficulty he was prevented by Leeper and McBey.
In vain she told him in the most humble and suppliant;
terms her own sad stqry and cruel sufferings. In vain;

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 339
Maria Davidson confirmed her statements, and related
her own intolerable sufferings. Still he persisted in his
attempts to destroy her. But just at that time, the com
pany made up at the point of the Clay lick woods and at
the grave of the Titswords, to pursue their murderers,
came up, and learning the incidents that had occurred,
as well as the cause of Stegall's fury and threats, William
Stewart, from Russellville, looking him steadfastly in the
face, wdth an expression of countenance no man could
imitate, and none misunderstand, who had the least ac
quaintance with him, said:
"Look here, Stegall, I reckon you once had, or now
have, a mother. So had I a mother. I have occasion
ally, aye, several times in my life, seed men killed, but
can't and won't see a woman."' Still looking Stegall very
significantly in tbe eye, he continued :
" Did you see that flash of lightning, Stegall ?"
" No, sir," answered Stegall.
" Well, well,'" said Stewart, " a word to the wise is
sufficient."' Stegall did not respond, but sinking down to a seat on
the ground, began to cry qtiite audibly, and nothing more
was said at that time about killing the unhappy woman.
In a short time after, those that had followed Josh. •
Harpe and the two Indians, returned, stating they had
wholly failed to keep their track or overtake them.
The conversation then turned upon the question as to what
was to be done with the women. The deputy sheriff of
Logan was along, and said it would be his duty to take
them back to Russellville, as they were present when the
Titswords were killed and would have to be tried. Wil
liam Stewart said, " that was right, and he wasn't going
to leave them in the woods no way."
So they all set forth to return to the court at Russell
ville. Arrived there, a prodigious excitement arose
against them. The intelligence had come of many of the
murders perpetrated by the Harpes as they had passed

340 LEGENDS OF THE
through the country, and they were placed in jail by the
advice of the clerk of the court, Mr. Armsted Morehead,
and several others, who pitied them very much, and be
lieved it safest for them. Still the fury of the populace
spread more and more, till threats were openly made
of a determination by many to tear down the jail, which
was but a log cabin, and murder or destroy them in
some way. Mr. Morehead, Gen. Samuel Caldwell, and
Phillip Latham, got the jailor to place them in their
charge, and they sent them secretly a distance into the
country, where they were taken care of till the excitement
had passed. They both lived in the county of Logan
many years after, where they were often seen, known and
conversed with by the author of these narratives, and who
received from the lips of Susan Woods herself most of the
tacts narrated in the foregoing pages, in reference to her
self, Maria, and the Harpes, from the time they became
so unhappily connected with them.
Maria married Sol. Hostetter, of Logan county, where,
it is believed, she died some ten or twelve years since. It
is not known to the writer what became of poor Susan.
Profoundly mysterious are thy ways, O, Lord God of
all human destiny ! Passing all finite comprehension.
' Deep in unfathomless mines,
Of never-failing skill,
Thou treasnrest up thy bright designs,
And works't thy sovereign will! "

WAK OF INDEPENDENCE. 341

CHAPTER XXXII.

Further narrative of the adventures of Josh Harpe — His escape —
His appearance at Natchez with Peter Alston — They conspire to
murder and decapitate Mayerson for the government reward —
They do so and while waiting for the reward are recognized and
seized, tried, condemned and executed.

Alas ! alas ! 'tis sin, man's doom decrees ;
A bondage to misery and death creates !
Mercy loudly pleads to release,
But iniquity ordains man's sadest fate. — The Author.
We again enter into a farther narrative of those re
markably desperate men, the Harpes; or, rather, that
of Josh Harpe, and the Indian that followed him from
Nickajack, at the time when they fled from before Capt.
Jackson, where he attacked and utterly destroyed that
place. It will be remembered that the two Harpes, when they
were found in their camp, by Stegall, Leeper and others
on or near Pond River, fled like affrighted wolves; one of
the Indians taking the same direction, westward, with
Josh Harpe. The Indians on foot and both the Harpes
on horseback. Bill Harpe was mounted on a very val
uable and fleet mare, of which he had possessed himself
after they had broken jail at Danville, — unequaled by
many in point of speed.
It so occurred that the part of Kentucky, in which
they were overtaken, and particularly that through which
they fled, was covered with the most extraordinary growth
of the pea .vine, in the bottoms and indeed, throughout
the timber, while in the barrens as they were then there
called, and are still ; the grass grew so thick, tall and lux-

342 LEGENDS OF THE
uriant, that it was not at all difficult to discern or follow
the break in them by a man running, or especially a
horse, at a considerable distance. Thus it was notwith
standing the speed of Big Harpe's fine mare, his pursuers
had no dfficulty in trailing him. Those that followed
Josh Harpe, however, were more puzzled, as he traveled
much slower, made a less plain and distinct mark ; and
being less pressed by those that undertook to chase him,
he had more time to pick his way and cautiously direct
his flight. This was particularly the case when within a
few miles from where they started, they reached the
immediate neighborhood of a lick, which was perfectly
bare of grass or pea vine, or even shrubbery ; and there
the trail was lost altogether.
Onward they pressed with celerity and reached the
Ohio, near the mouth of Trade Water, where, finding a
perogue fastened to the Kentucky shore, supposed to have
been brought and left there by some lUinoisians, who had
crossed from the neighborhood of where Shawneetown is
now situated, to hunt in the vicinity of the Highland lick,
as game of all kinds was there very abundant, into that
they hastened, and Josh Harpe and the Indian, were seen
floating down about where Ford's Ferry is situated, (on
the Ohio), a little below the position of the Saline Salt
Works. From that time they were not again heard of
until at Natchez, — Josh Harpe was recognized, together
with Peter Alston, the son of the celebrated counterfeiter,
Phil. Alston, who was also from North Carolina, — who
had some years before, moved to, settled, and five or six
years, lived in Logan County, Kentucky, and being
driven from there by the Kentuckians, fled to Stack
Island, where he with the said Peter, had acted with the
terrible bandits of whom we have heretofore given a de
scription, in robbing and murdering on the Ohio, flatboat-
men and passengers down that river. He, however,
chiefly conducting the vile work of counterfeiting of the
silver coins and the most current paper money, then in

WAK OF, INDEPENDENCE. 343
circulation in the West, having at an early period of
the revolution, practiced that business in Raleigh, North
Carolina, and continued in Kentucky, as long as permit
ted to remain there.
These two, Josh Harpe and young Alston, added
to their diabolical crimes and character ft* murder and
rapine practiced at said place. Having learned that at
Natchez, then part of Louisiana, a reward of two thous
and dollars was offered for the head of Mayerson, the
leader and commander at Stack Island, they conceived and
executed the traitorous design of murdering him, taking
off his head, and, going to Natchez, demand the reward.
The next day after they reached Natchez, and were
waiting the payment of it, they were recognized by two
young men, as two of a gang that had robbed their boat
at Stack Island — murdered several of the crew, and from
whom they had almost miraculously . themselves made
their escape.
Upon the testimony of these two young Kentuckians,
they were immediately apprehended and in the most
summary mode tried and convicted of murder and rob
bery, and immediately executed. Before his death, how
ever, Josh Harpe made to one of those young Kentuckians
and others a tolerably full disclosure of his life of iniquity,
as in the preceding pages set forth, touching his bloody
career in connection with his still more despicable rela
tive, big Bill Harpe, — protesting to the very last breath,
however, that he was destined by God and nature, to the
crimes or acts of his whole life, and to the horrible end to
which he had come. These things he stated in the cal-
laboose, and at the place of execution, to Thomas L.
Hawkins, one of the young Kentuckians we have men
tioned, as witnesses against him on the trial, who was
afterwards a well esteemed and useful officer in the U. S.
Army, in the north-west, during the war of 1812.
Many others, however, in Kentucky and several from
North Carolina, have made statements to this writer,

344 LEGENDS 0F< THE
personally, in corroboration and establishment of the en
tire narrative of the lives of those Harpes; so highly
illustrative of the capabilities of fallen human nature,
trained in false notions of God, and themselves and the
principles upon which human conduct is certain to be
finally judged, rewarded or punished, at the bar of Al
mighty God. " And must I be to judgment brought,
" And answer in that day,
" For every vain and idle thought
" And every word I say ?
" Yes every secret of my heart,
" Shall shortly be made known
" And I receive my just desert,
"For all that I have done."

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 345

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Major Bland Ballard— His parentage—His father locates at Boons-
boro— Removes to Tick Creek— Family locates at Tyler's Station
— Maj. Bland marries — The Station becoming crowded, the Bal-
lards remove outside the stockades — Danger from the Indians
anticipated— The family of old Mr. Ballard is attacked and nearly
all murdered by the Indians — Maj. Bland, hearing the attack,
rushes to the door of his cabin to receive the last groan of his
murdered mother — Decides to take the open ground and defend
himself and wife — Is heroically assisted by his wife — After shoot
ing seven Indians, he finds his bullet pouch exhausted — Is supplied
by his wife who melts her spoons for the purpose, and exposes her
life to hand the bullets to her husband — He finally triumphs.

" Courage in arms and ever prompt to show,
His manly forehead to the fiercest foe :
Glorious in war, but for the sake of peace,
His spirits rising as his toils increase,
Guards well what arts and industry have won,
And freedom claims him for her first born-son." — Campbell.
Among the many gallant and daring spirits that emi
grated to Kentucky, at an early day, and periled their
lives to rid its fertile soil and that of the vast valley of
the Mississippi of the innumerable savage tribes, none
was more active and efficient than Maj. Bland Ballard,
who died on the 5th day of September, 1 853, in Shelby
County, Kentucky, at the advanced age of ninety-four
years ; possessed through life of a most daring and un
conquerable spirit ; knowing no fear of man, and yet alike
distinguished for his generous bearing to others, and
amiable conformity to and practice of all the amenities
of social life and all the obligations by it imposed. Cau-

346 LEGENDS OF THE
tious, active and fearless in the pursuit of the wily savage,
he was from his youth up,- ranked among those upon
whom the greatest reliance was placed, in the times of
the greatest danger.
The father of Maj. Ballard, removed to Kentucky from
Virginia, in the year' 1780, with his family ; settled or
stopped, for about two years, at Boonsboro; — sharing dur
ing that time, in common with all then in the West, the
privations, toils and hairbreadth escapes, incident to a life
in the wilderness and the dangers of the destruction of
himself and family, by the ruthless tomahawk and scalp
ing knife. When it was generally believed some degree
of safety had been won by frequent chastisements inflicted
upon the Indians, the father of Maj. Ballard, whose name
was also Bland, with the view to a permanent settlement
at the falls of the Ohio, removed to a Station occupied by
a few families on Tick Creek, about four mile east of
where Shelby ville is now situated, then in Jefferson, now
Shelby County, — Tyler's Station it was called. This
Station was named after Capt. Robert Tyler, a most res
pectable gentleman, who early emigrated from Yirginia,
and first made a settlement at that place ; and whose
numerous relatives, generally industrious and enterpriz-
ing, now much dispersed through Kentucky, are justly
numbered among her most respectable, judicious, intelli
gent and wealthy citizens.
Before this removal it was that the services of Major
Ballard, of which we have already given some account,
were rendered, in conipany with and under the com
mand of Capt. Thomas McClanahan, as spies or rang
ers along the Ohio River, in the release of two young
ladies from their captivity by the Mississinawa Indians.
After his return from that most arduous and trying cam
paign, he became the husband of Elizabeth Williamson,
a young and heroic girl, like himself, enthusiastically
delighted with frontier life, inured to its vicissitudes and
dangers ; having witnessed more than one attack by the

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 347
Indians, upon the infant settlements and familiar with
the Indian war-whoop and scenes of blood. Tyler's Sta
tion was small, and in the numerous and rapid immigra
tions to that place, soon became inconveniently crowded.
Hence the Ballards were induced to build their cabins
without the limits and line of stockades erected for the
defence of the Station, and they lived there without the
protection enjoyed by their neighbors. But as the Indi
ans had for some time seemed quieted, no great appre*
hension was felt or fear entertained from that quarter.
Nevertheless, they were not long left to enjoy the hope of
security. The Indians, always on the look-out for an opportunity
successfully to assail the whiteB ; watched the progress of
things at the Station, and seeing a favorable opportunity
in the defenceless condition of the Ballards and their
dwellings, planned a murderous attack. At about day
light in the morning, twenty or more aroused the inhabi
tants of the Station, by a furious assault upon the cabin
of the elder Ballard, occupied by himself and wife, and
several of their unmarried children; forced the door
open and before' any effective resistance could be made,
right away, and within the house, butchered the father,
brothers and sisters ! His mother for a minute or so sur-
viyed them, got out of the house, but was shot down
when endeavoring to reach the door of her son ! The
son with his wife was in bed, in his cabin, which, as we
have said, situated a few yards from that of his father,
was awakened at the first onset of the savages, sprang
up,, hurried on a few of his clothes, heard the last ex
piring groans of his mother, who fell near his door. He
seized his trusty rifle and prepared for the desperate con
flict. Having some confidence in his skill in using his gun,
and as to remain in the cabin would, he believed, the
more endanger the lives of himself and his wife, he prefer
red the open woods for the fight, and rushing out, concealed

348 LEGENDS OF THE
himself as much as possible behind the trees ; keeping.
however, in a position to communicate with his wife, still
within his dwelling. With astonishing coolness he sur
veyed the ground and prepared for the deadly conflict.
Thte wife, alive to a sense of their imminent danger, but
still calm as he was brave, kept a close watch upon the
movements of the Indians, and at every change of posi
tion by any of them, gave him, by word, notice of it, if
he was near enough to hear, or signal, if too distant.
The Indians knew Ballard, and by experience, knew the
man they had to deal with. As soon, therefore, as he
was discovered abroad, he concealed himself behind a tree
and acted with extreme caution. It was not long, before
he had an opportunity to fire, and one of the most daring
of them fell instantly. Reloading from time to time, hus
banding his shots with the utmost prudence, he thus kept
up this unequal contest till he had killed seven of his foes.
More than double that number yet survived to fight.
But even these bloody savages, thinking " discretion the
better part of valor," left the field in Ballard's possession,
and fled beyond the reach of his deadly aim. During
this terrific battle, he found he had just loaded with his
last bullet. He remembered there was lead in his fa
ther's cabin, but to obtain it was incalculably hazardous.
He gave the signal to his wife. She understood it, and
in a moment flew to a few pewter spoons they possessed,
siezed the ladle and his bullet moulds, melted them upon
the coals still lingering in the fire-place, quickly turned
out an ample supply, and with that heroic daring, known
alone among the early women of the West, like a bound
ing fawn darted across the space to where he stood, and
placed them in his shot-pOuch ! then again skipped back
to her cabin without injury. Not unseen, however, by
the Indians ; for they fired upon the noble woman, yet
Heaven protected her, and she escaped their aim.
Another incident occurred which we think ought to be
mentioned. About the moment of the fleeing of the In-

WAK OF INDEPENDENCE. 349
dians, and when Mr. Ballard could see but one that lin
gered behind, who seemed endeavoring to obtain a shot
through a fence that ran between them, Ballard ran
near to it, and both ran along side for the like purpose.
The Indian fired and missed, and in a moment was the
eighth victim of Ballard's unerring rifle.
For many years he lived, upon the soil and at the quiet
home so bravely by his own hands won and rescued from
savage invasion and control, and which he so profusely
enriched with the heart's blood of the ruthless murderers
of his mother, brothers and sisters. Single in heart and
purpose ; peaceful, kind, and courteous towards all ; the
advocate of right ; the friend and defence of the poor ;
and the firm and unconquerable resister of whatever he
believed to be wrong. Early in youth he sought, and
faithfully battled for, a home on the loved soil of Ken
tucky ; and waited long there to find his grave. There,
now, his honored asheB shall rest in calm repose, till
" Heaven's last thunder shall shake the world below ; "
till Gabriel's loud proclaim shall bid the dead arise.
Then, " These new rising from the tomb,
With luster brighter far shall shine ;
Revive with ever-during bloom-
Safe from diseases and decline,"
Maj. Ballard died at his farm in Shelby county, Ky.,
fifth of September, 1853, and was there buried by the
side of that heroic wife, long before deceased. But since
the above narrative of his highly adventurous life was
written, and in the — day of the present year, 1854, in
accordance with an order of the Kentucky Legislature,
passed at the session of 1853-4, his body, with that of his
beloved Elizabeth, under the order of Gov. Powell, were
taken and reinterred at the State's cemetry at Frankfort,
. the seat of government.

350 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XXXIV.

William Stout" — Thoughts on the adage "Murder will out" —
Why Stout came to Kentucky — His dark deeds of blood — His care
of his family — Tracks and destroys the murderer of his son — Re
dnesses the widow's wrong — Prevents Jerry Moore's trip to Mis
souri! — Dies.

" Will all great Neptune's Ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hands ? No : this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green — one red." — Shakspeare.
" He has done the murder. No eye has seen him, no ear has
heard him. The secret is his own, and it is safe ! Ah! gentlemeB,
that was a dreadful mistake.. Such a secret can be safe nowhere.
The. whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner wher,e the
guilty can bestow it and say it is safe. Not to speak of that eye
which pierces through all designs, and beholds everything as in the
splendor of noon. Such secrets of guilt are never safe from de
tection, even by men. True it is, generally speaking, 'Murder
will out.'"
Thus spoke that preeminently great orator and sound
philosopher, Daniel Webster, in his unequalled speech
against the Napps. Generally, indeed, it is so. " Mur
der will, out." We rejoice it is so, in a great majority
of the instances of murder. We rejoice and felicitate our
selves, and all who love civilization and social life, that
Providence hath, so ordained and doth so govern things
that those who break the great law of Heaven by shed
ding man's blood, seldom succeed in avoiding discovery.
Yet. we must record, that such is the imperfection of hw-
man laws, of human perception ; the irregularity and in
equality of human judgment and action ; the secretive
powers and cautious cunning of some murderers, over

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 351
thoBe of the great number alike guilty, that to the great
discomfort of society, not to Bpeak of the dark stamp of
degradation of our race, too many perpetrate this horri
ble crime, sculk back into society; and often, though
again and again they perpetrate this dreadful outrage
against the laws of God, society, and humanity, are per
mitted to pass a long life and die in their beds the sub
jects of the attentions and sympathies of all our better.
natHcres, as though, they had lived honest, harmless, and
inoffensive lives. Ah ! who does not see in the actual
existence qf this state of things on earth, an argument ir-
resistably confirmatory of the wise and just order of the
Almighty in the appointment of a day of general judg
ment, '* in the which He will judge every man according
as his deeds shall be ! whether they be good, or whether
they be evil."
To these seemingly abstract remarks, courteous reader,
we are led, preparatory to your perusal of a brief, but
truthful exhibit of the life and character of one of the pir
oneers of the West, most unique in the strange commin-
glement they exhibit of vices of the deepest dye, and
seeming virtues of the most proper and fascinating char
acter ; with all the secret craft, cunning, malignity and
pusillanimity of the midnight assassin, and the dariDg,
toilsome apd hazardous enterprises of men of the greatest
energy and; prowess. A dastardly coward, yet relying
upon his own perfected and matured knowledge of men
and things, the machinery of the human mind, the pas
sions, motives and purposes of the human heart in its
most corrupted or graciously purified phases, to cover and
carry out in secret and, safety, his bloody deeds, he sallied
forth in a darkness almost of his own creation, and per
petrated whatever a practised and cultivated thirst for
human blood or malignant revenge dictated, from youth
to hoary age.
To many, nay, thousands, who yet live in Kentucky,
who have known the original from whose strong linea-

352 LEGENDS OF THE
ments of character the foregoing picture is truly sketched,
it is unnecessary for us to assign a name. To all others
who may chance to read these pages, the real name of
this extraordinary man cannot be material, and the fic-
tious one we shall give, instead of the real, out of a just
respect entertained for his worthy descendants and collat
eral kin, yet living, will answer for all the purposes of
reference, while we assure them we personally knew the
man more than forty years, — with frequent opportunities
to observe and mark his physiognomy and manners,
throughout that length of time.
The birth of William Stout, the subject of this narra
tive, according to his own statement, was in the district
of Edgecombe, South Carolina, in the year 1772. There
his parents lived, and he was raised, till he reached his
eighteenth year, when he left them and never more saw
them. Of their history, before and after his birth, none
knew in this country, more than as he very seldom said
of them, his father was of a remarkably quiet and taci
turn disposition, while he seemed proud to speak of his
mother as Amazonian in temper and spirit ; stern toward
all in her manners, and inexorably revengeful toward her
enemies. These traits of his parents were imparted by him in
brief anecdotes, in his familiar conversations^ with his
friends, as he chose, occasionally, to unbend his stern na
ture. It was always evident that his love and admiration
for his mother was preeminent. He often gave that, as a
reason for his devotion to the sex, generally, and as the
reason why he called them all sisters, and avowed himself
ready to protect them at all hazards. Very frequently,
however, when speaking of his " mammy," as he always
called her, and especially of her resolute spirit and dispo
sition, he would conclude, in some apparent seriousness,
by saying, " she got me into a devil of a bad scrape once
by her high temper." But he never explained how.
His education was of a common grade. In nothing su-

I
WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 353
perior, except in a sufficient knowledge of figures and the
ordinary branches of mathematics — trigonometry and ge
ometry, to enable him to execute with reasonable correct
ness and promptitude, surveys of lands. His penmanship
and diction were, ready, in matter and manner. His
heighth was a little above ordinary ; person robust ; fea
tures tolerably symmetrical ; light auburn hair, hazel eyes,
heavy, eye-brows, large head, and particularly so in the
rear and above the spinal column. Always eccentric in
his material and style of dress — sometimes, and often so
much so, he appeared attired in an entire suit made of
various colored " lists," taken from the finest broadcloths,
sewed together, fantastically cut and 'fitted to his person,
while the buttons of his coat and pantaloons were quarter
dollars, United States coin, with eyes attached by his own
ingenuity (for he was a worker in metals), and his vest
buttoned with genuine United States dimes. This dress,
however, was rather for high days and holydays, — such
as a fourth of July, an extraordinary assemblage of the
people to worship ; or the reception at his town of Presi
dent Monroe, Gen. Jackson, or Mr. Clay. His conversa
tion was always vulgar, obtrusive and profane, — gener
ally in the order of the jocular and facetious, and desir
ous to cover himself in a mist of enigmas and inexplica
ble inuendoes. He was between nineteen and twenty
years of age, according to his own statement, when he
came to Kentucky, and that was about the year 1790.
He died at Russellville, Kentucky, 1852.
To the writer of these legends he once said, in a sort of
private way, and in his own peculiar style of talking,
" Smith, did you ever know why it was I first come out
to Kentucky ? "
He was answered in ,the negative.
" Damn it, then I'll tell you. You know I loved fid
dling. I larnt to play when I was a small boy. They
used to get me to play at frollicks about in daddy's neigh
borhood, for the gals and boys to dance after. So when
23

( 354 LEGENDS OF THE
I was about eighteen, I was at a frollick about a half mile
from daddy's, playing away the best I could in one cor
ner, and a whole passel of gals and boys dancing. A
big black fellow, of the name of Jack Patty, come to me,
and said to me, says he, ' Bill, play the tune called Cap
tain Johnson.' I seed he was drunk, and paid no atten
tion to him. So I played along, the tune I Was at. In a
little while he come again, and cursed me. Still I took
no notice of him ; kept on. He cursed me again, give
me a rousing slap on the side of the face, and sent me
half over to the floor. Bless you! I played no more that
time. But jist rose up and laid Betty (that is what I
called my fiddle) on a table, close by, and walked right
off from the house, pretty mad, I tell you.
" I walked about and about, through the woods, then
-round daddy's field to' the house. It was about an hour
before I come home. Mammy and daddy was still sit
ting up. The old woman was mighty mad, and spoke to
me fust. She said, says she, 'Billy Stout, Tom. Ellit
come here awhile ago, and said Jack Patty had slapped
your jaws, down at the frollick, and hurt you very much."
'" Well," says I, "mammy, he did."
•" ' Well,' says she, ' now, Billy Stout, if you, after that,
•let .Jack Patty live in South Carolina, above ground, you
aint the son of your daddy.' Daddy said nothing. Said
,1, ' mammy, now let me alone about thatt I don't tell
folks what I am going to do,' — and went right to bed ;
but didn't sleep much, for thinkin' about it. ' Well,'
says I to .myself, ' mammy says Jack Patty oughtn't to
live above grouhd knj mote, in South Carolina. I think
so too.' So I made a decree in the morning to go aud
look at him that night after dark. I said nothing to any
body all day. Mammy said to me after dinner, ' Well,
Billy Stout, what are you going to do about Jack Patty? '
Said I, ' mammy, that's my business,' and said no more
16 her that titoO.
"GOd bless you, Smith, I Went that night and took a

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 355
look at Jack through a crack in his house wall, and I
took a straight edge along to look at him by. Now, a
straight edge is a mighty dangerous thing to look along,
at anybody. So I peeped at him through a crack that
night, and he dodged me or fell down, and I never saw
him after tbat. Ha ! ha ! You may depend, it's dangerous
to look at a fellow along a straight edge, — it is that.
Well, the people all about began to say, I or somebody
had looked at Jack rather hard that night ; that he had
set off to go to another country, or somewhere. So I
thought, as they made such a big fuss- about it, I had bet
ter come out and see what the folks was all doing out
this way ; and that is the way I come out to Kentuck
you see. Ha ! ha ! haw ! "
We have already intimated that this man's life and
acts constituted an exception to the aphorism, " Murdef
will out," above quoted and referred to. That there are
cases in which the dreadful crime of murder has been
perpetrated, wherein the guilty murderer has never been
brought to the condign punishment due to his crime.
The universal belief has been , and now is, that this man
shed the blood of many, in the midst of his neighbors,
and a population the most staid, sober, and law-abiding
that exists in the State, and yet went down to his grave
wholly unpunished. There were hundreds convinced and
ready to swear, he committed such crimes in many instan
ces ; yet no one able to testify to a solitary fact or cir
cumstance upon which a prosecution could be predicated.
The extraordinary secrecy with which the deeds of death
had been conducted, in every case, baffled all possibility
of conviction or proof of any fact establishing legal guilt.
In many instances in which the murdered bodies have
been found and identified, universal suspicion at once
fixed on him as guilty ; but, suspicion is not proof. There
was a case where an old gentleman, who lived a few
miles from the town of Russellville, was found dreadfully
mangled and murdered, within a few hundred yards from

356 LEGENDS OF THE
the boundary of the village. Suspicion fixed at once on
William Stout and a free negro butcher, who lived, also,
in the county and neighborhood of the deceased. The
charge was directly made against the negro, his case ju
dicially examined, and he committed for trial at the crim
inal court. Before his trial, however, he committed sui
cide in the prison. By the side of his dead body was
found a confession, to this effect:
" I did not murder Knox ; but I saw it done. The
deed was done by the man that everybody believes has
often done such things in this neighborhood. But 1 can
be no witness. C. W."
This, so far as is known to us, is the nearest approach
to anything like the proof of guilt on Stout ; and cer
tainly, this was not the slightest legal proof of guilt. From
the first of his residence in Logan county, Kentucky, till
within six or eight years of his death, murders occurred,
bodies were found and identified. All who knew of these
things seemed not to doubt he was guilty, but none
could prove a fact sufficient to begin the establishment of
guilt upon him. All was conjecture — all suspicion.
As prefatory to this narrative, we said above, there was
a strange comminglement of the basest with the most
virtuous and fascinating elements of character in this ex
traordinary man. We take more pleasure in pointing
these last out to the reader than in depicting his horrible
crimes. He was a husband and a father.
About the year 18 — he united in matrimony with  ,
a plain, but most estimable lady. He also became the
father of five children by her — four daughters and one
son. In these several relations of husband and father, it
is believed he discharged most faithfully every obliga
tion. Toward his wife, maintaining every propriety;
manifesting the most appropriate affection and respect.
Toward his children, giving always the strongest eviden
ces of parental care and affection. To the education and
advancement of his fair daughters, he exhibited the most

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 357
proper solicitude, and although they were most of them
of very tender years, when they lost their fond and pru
dent mother, he seemed but to double his parental dili
gence in their behalf, and to withhold no expenditure or
any other necessary care to make them accomplished and
respected. And they certainly were entitled, when they
grew to womanhood, in point of personal merit and ele
gance of appearance, to stand well in any circle. His
son was also well educated, intelligent and respectable.
Settling, however, after marriage, in one of the adjacent
States, peopled as yet, as frontiers often are, by reckless
and lawless adventurers, he fell into a quarrel with one
of that character, got into a sort of Indian fight with
him, shooting from' behind trees, and was shot by his an
tagonist through the heart. This constituted the occasion
of another display on the part of Stout, his father, of his
extraordinary revengeful spirit and thirst for human
blood. At the time of the murder of his son, John G. Stout,
he was at his home in Russellville. His son lived and
was murdered near the south-western border of Arkansas.
He received the intelligence of the sad affair and without
telling any one his purpose, in a few days he prepared
and at the advanced age of upwards of sixty years,
mounted his horse, shouldered his rifle, traveled the dis
tance of four or five hundred miles to his son's residence,
and learned all the facts from the neighbors. The mur
derer of his son, doubtless, having learned the character
of the father, and anticipating his speedy appearance in
Arkansas, had disappeared. William Stout soon ascer
tained the direction he had fled. He took his track,
followed him with the infallibility of the most practised
woodsman, as he really was, through the Red River por
tion of Louisiana, through the vast wilderness of the
Sabine, and on the Brazos and near Brazoria, overtook
and slew him. In the course of a little more than three
months returned to where he had set out telling to many,

358 LEGENDS OF THE
and with all his dreadful vices, that of falsehood was
never charged, in his own peculiar style, he had " acci
dentally met with Jim Bell, (the murderer of his son) and
looked at him a while, away down yonder in the woods,
left him and never seen him more." The man was
actually found dead near Brazoria. The truth is, re
venge and blood were not only his passion, but darling
delights. We turn again from the contemplation of such of his
traits of character to his feats of a less sanguinary nature,
and which the reader can at least smile at, as not worse
than comic tragedy.- We have already spoken of his de*
votion to woman, and pledges to be forever her protector.
We relate now, therefore, some curious instances in which
he showed much proof that on such occasions, he meant
what he said and pledged himself to.
About twelve or thirteen miles distant from Russellville
lived in the County of Logan, the widow of a man whom
he knew reasonably well, before he died, but with whom
or any of his family, he had not at any time, had any
particular acquaintance, or association. Before his death
the husband had purchased a rich and beautiful tract of
land containing three hundred acres, built a comfortable
dwelling, made a good beginning for a productive farmer,
became sick, made his will and died, — bequeathing to his
amiable wife, the mother of his three or four little children,
his land and negroes and in short, everything in fee sim
ple, only requesting that their prudent mother should
raise and give to his children as she should find it con
venient to bestow. But three or foiir hundred dollars
remained unpaid and due to the vender of the land, and
for the payment of which a lien was retained. The cred
itor, after a time, began to press for his claim. The in
experienced and faithful mother, began to fear the loss of
her comfortable home. She had a neighbor who possessed
the amount neccessary to save it. He pretended great
kindness to her and her little orphans. She borrowed

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 359
the sum at the rate of sixty per cent per annum. She
redeemed the lien, paid the debt, but then she gave a
mortgage tO secure to her kind neighbor, the sum and
interest, borrowed. So it stood for several years, the
very kind neighbor, only every ninety days adding up
the interest, making it also principal, and taking her note
to be tacked on to the mortgage, and to abide a future
settlement. Thus his kindness had enlarged and improved
in the estimation of the worthy yet inexperienced widow,
till he had her not only involved for more money than
the land would sell for, upon a foreclosure of the mortgage,
but also he had exacted a bill of sale for ,her four negroes.
The thing got out and began to be much talked and com
plained of by her other neighbors.
Stout heard of the mortgage, read it on the record,
silently waited and watched the entire progress of the
money lender's doings, till on a certain day at about
four o'clock, P. M., and when the usurer was passing
round his luxuriant field of corn, just in the roasting ear,
with his shot- gun to gather a mess of the pillaging squir
rels, at a distance from his dwelling in the midst of heavy
timber and a mazy thicket of tall hazle bushes, greatly
interwoven with bamboo-briers, he was confronted by
Stout, with his rifle cocked and presented at his breast,--
the man whom most of all he feared, and least of all his
acquaintance, expected to see.
His first exclamation was " My God ! — Uncle Bill, what
is the matter 2"
He was quickly answered, accompanied by a look of
fury, unmistakably expressive of the most deadly purpose,
"Throw down that gun, sir." Instantly the command
was obeyed. Again, he appealed for an explanation, and
in great trembling and trepidation, asked, "What harm
have I ever done you ?"
" O, none that I know of, but," looking upward with a
glance of his eyes, he said, " old Master has sent me for

360 LEGENDS OF THE
you. He says you are not fit to live among men, and has
directed me to kill you and throw you into that sink-hole,"
— a deep break or cavity in the earth, very commonly oc
curring in that rich district of Kentucky, and which was
just by where they stood.
"0! Maj. Stout, have mercy on me," and falling on
his knees, lifting up his eyes and hands in the most sup
pliant tones, the usurer cried, " O, have mercy upon
me." "Well now," he was answered, "don't pray to me! — ;
pray to old Master ! for he says you must die. If you
want I'll give you time to pray to Him, but you must be
quick about it. Maybe He'll help you, I can't."
The usurer fully believed, or seemed to believe im
plicitly what he said to him ; and then earnestly engaged
in supplications to Almighty God, to spare him from so
dreadful and instantaneous a death. Among the subjects
embraced in his prayer was, "O! Lord have mercy on
my poor wife and children."
When those words were uttered, Stout, who stood near
him, looking him in all the bitterness of revenge and
death sternly in the face, with his rifle still presented at
his breast, said, " Aye, now that's a good prayer. Pray
for your wife and children, and while you pray for them,
pray also for the poor widow and orphans of J. King,
whom you have ruined. Maybe old Master will then
do something good for you."
" O ! said the usurer, I will do anything you say I must,
for Mrs. King and her poor little children ; only spare my
life, Major."
" I cannot spare your life, unless old Master tells me
so," said Stout. Again the suppliant addressed himself
to the throne of infinite mercy and grace. Prayed for
the poor widow and orphans, each by name. And while
in the fervor and greatest apparent earnestness of petition
in their behalf, Stout said, "Ah ! that is the right way to

WAK OF INDEPENDENCE. 361
pray ! Did you not say a while ago you were willing to
do anything I said you ought for Mrs. King and her
children?" " O ! " replied the usurer, now melted into tears, stream
ing down his pallid cheeks, "I'll do anything for them
you say."
" Well," said he, " old Master has told me, if you will
do what I tell you, I may spare your life. Now you
must give back her negroes for whom you have her bill
of sale, and execute and record a release of the mortgage
you hold upon her land."
" O ! Pll do it, Major, I'll do it now,— anything you
require." " Well," said Stout, " we'll see," and taking a sheet of
paper from the crown of his hat, a pen of ink from his
ink-phial, which he always carried, the latter hung to his
vest by a string and button, he seated himself upon a log
of fallen timber and began to write. This attitude he
was most accustomed to, and would have prefered to the
best cushioned seat at any table in any gentleman's par
lor, or at his desk. Quickly he wrote a bill of sale
reconveying the negroes and a deed of release of the
mortgage. He read them to the usurer slowly and dis
tinctly, and then said, " This" (presenting the bill of sale)
" you must now sign, and I will witness it and keep it
for Mrs. King, — and this also you must execute but as it
has to be recorded in the County Court clerk's office, you
must sign it also now and go to-morrow morning to the
clerk and acknowledge it for record, before him, as it is
best not to have to call in two witnesses. This is a mat
ter between us alOne and I want no witnesses. And now
upon two conditions, old Master tells me, I may spare
your life. Now you know I will kill you, if you fail to
comply, go where you will. If you do not meet me to
morrow morning, at the Clerk's office in Russellville,
between nine and ten o'clock, in the day, to acknowledge
the release. This is one condition. And if you raise a

362 LEGENDS OF THE
talk and fuss about it, now or hereafter, I will assuredly
kill you. Nothing but death shall save you from my
vengeance." The usurer solemnly engaged to comply with all he re
quired. He then signed his name to the papers; — Stout
attested them and put them in his pocket-book, when, as
it was nearly night, he started for his home, at Russell
ville, and rode thirteen miles, while the usurer went
round to his house, not a little nervous and unfitted for
sleep that night. He, however, duly appeared next morn
ing at the Clerk's office, and acknowledged the release,
as his act and deed, and it is not known to this day, that
he ever complained in any way, or even whispered the
affair to any one. But Stout did, more than once ; and
referred to the record, as a proof of the whole.
Now it is not surprising, if our readers shall doubt
whether the threats and acts of Stout, were anything
more than a hoax, practiced upon the oowardly timidity
of the usurer. They may rely upon it, however, it was
no joke, no hoax! C. the usurer, had known Stout, per
sonally, for more than thirty years ; had heard and known
more or less of the tales circulated rifely, throughout the
land of no dissimilar events in reference to the man, in
a dozen or more cases. Ah ! he was a man of the most
perverted and vicious passions, but indomitable will.
Never threatened, but always acted.
We will now very briefly give another anecdote of his
life illustrative highly, as is generally believed, of his pe
culiar traits of character on the same side of the picture,
and which is also highly calculated to show the power
his strange reputation had, to alarm and deter all the
bad and despicably vicious of his acquaintance, especially
if women was in any way involved.
J. Moore, late of Logan County, Kentucky, was raised
a farmer. For years, however, after he married an igno
rant but good woman, as it was said, he lived in Russell
ville, and engaged in keeping a doggery as it was usually

WAK OF INDEPENDENCE. 363
called. He became habitually a sot, and, of course, much
perverted in natural feeling towards his wife and children.
He, however, purchased a farm six miles in the country,
where he lived for eight or ten years, still growing more
and more excessive in drink, and more and more brutal
ized. Often cruelly and brutally abusing his family. He
sold his farm, cashed it for four or five thousand dollars,
gold and silver, and then again rented a house in the
town and continued his brutal treatment of his wife and
helpless children.
At length, as a sort of spite to them, he swore he would
abandon them, and purchased a two horse wagon and fine
pair of horses, with which to travel to Missouri ; swear
ing he would leave them all except his oldest son, a lad,
and without any provisions for their support. He made
it generally known throughout the town he would start
in the morning of a certain day.
The day before Moore was to start, Stout saw him
standing on the street and with an appearance of great
seeming simplicity, he stepped up close to Moore's side,
and in a sort of loud whisper, said to him, " Why Jerry,
I understand you're gwyne to Missouri, to take but one
of your boys, with all your money, and leave your wife
with the other five children to shift as she can, for their
support. "Yes, yes," replied he, "Uncle Bill, I am gwyne in
the morning, sure."
"What!" said Stout, "and make' no provision for
your family, left behind."
« ]SJo! d — m 'em," replied Moore, " let 'em starve."
Stout said, looking at him with his indiscribable gaze,
steadfastly in the eye, and leaning a little closer still to
ward him, said " Now Jerry, that's a mighty dangerous
road for you to travel ; for as sure as there is a God in
heaven, you'll catch your death, if you travel that way."
Moore started back, took a more searching look into the
eye of Stout, and exclaimed, " Great God, Uncle Bill,
what is that for ! "

364 LEGENDS OF THE
" 0, God knows," said he, " but I tell you as certain
as you try it you will catch your death," at the same time
somewhat impressively griping his right arm above the
elbow. Moore turned exceedingly pale, said not a word
more, but walked directly off, never started for Missouri
nor even talked of it again, but died in the vicinity some
few years after.
Of many other like occurrences in the extraordinary
life of this man, we could speak, but here conclude by
giving, in few words, the manner in which it came to a
close, without further note or comment :
About three months before, he was observed, by his
neighbors, to be evidently declining in flesh and strength ;
seldom appearing out from what he called his den. He
complained to none of suffering, and though, to all that
called in to see him, he admitted he was suffering much
and was rapidly going, — he utterly refused to take med
icine, or even but a very little of nutritive food. His
answer was, generally, '¦ O, let the poor old devil die in
peace. Gabriel has blowed his horn ! " In the morning
of the day on which he died, he with but little aid, drew
on his curiously constructed, many colored, suit of clothes,
heretofore described, as made of the lists taken from the
bolts of fine broad-cloth, and in that attire he died, and
was buried. " And there he Bat with his sunken eyes,
That old man, thin and pale,
While the wind in broken symphonies
Through the creaking blinds made wail,
And the raven croaked on the battlements
In the rising Autumn gale !
Ah 1 sad and fearful to look upon
Were those glassy eyes of his,
For a soul shone out of them, had done
Much in its day amiss,
And thought was a dark and bitter thing,
Unto that man, I wit.
" Lo! the dark clouds around him close, dim waves above him roll,
The casket perishes in death, but where's the gem, the soul ? "

WAE OF. INDEPENDENCE. 365

CHAPTER XXXV.

A picture of the earlier settlements in the West—State of Society-
Who gave it tone and polish.

" So live, that when thy summons come
To join the innumerable caravan,
That move to that mysterious realm,
Where each shall take his chamber in the silent
Halls of death," — not
" Like the quarry slave at nightt
Scourged to his dungeon ; but,
Sustained and soothed by an unfalteribg trust,
Approach thy grave like one
Who wraps the drapery of his couch around him,
And lies down to pleasant dreams."
Hitherto little has been said in respect to society,
generally, and the social phases exhibited by the earlier
emigrants to the West. To Kentucky they were chiefly
from Virginia. But Maryland, Pennsylvania, and the
Carolinas, sent forth, each, a respectable portion of their
plain and industrious citizens. These last, however, sel
dom mixed well (except the Marylanders) with the popu
lation from Virginia, who, in a conscious possession, or
supposed possession of greater polish of manners, perfec
tion of education, though in fact the most illiterate of all,
only having the superior genius to make " a little learn -
ing pass for a great deal," rather assumed, or were sus
pected of assuming, something like exclusiveness in the
social circles, as they formed in the wilderness.
The Marylanders who came from the vicinity of the
District of Columbia, or who hailed from the eastern
banks of the Potomac, and could trace easily the geneal
ogy of the F. F. V.'s., or first families of Virginia, or

366 LEGENDS OF THE
could claim feasibly, relationship to; or a very familiar
acquaintance with those universally acknowledged digni
taries of the Old Dominion ; or the North Carolinians,
who though natives of that State, claimed plausibly to
have come from " near the the Virginia line" get along
pretty well in the " upper tendom of Kentucky aristoc
racy. Then, as indeed now, the Virginians, or Figini-
ans, as many in those times called themselves — now, " gen
tlemen from Varginiar" — are, indeed, " a peculiar peo
ple ; zealous of "  good eating and drinking, fiddling
and dancing, and are, in short, a great people ; the most
courteous, the most companionable, the most agreeable,
and the most fashionable of all the nation ; and in no
case, to be understood, as playing second fiddle anywhere,
to anybody. Of course, therefore, we must set them
down, and no mistake, as taking the lead in, and giving
tone to all social, political, and religious formulas.
Early was it settled as an axiom of unquestioned and
unquestionable propriety by the staid and well born mat
rons from Virginia, in solemn council, met at divers tea
tables, that all bundling of the ladies, under thirty-five
and over fourteen, with their sweet-hearts, as was the
habit of the fair dulcinas of Coheedum, and the Bunk-
umites in those days of natural proclivities, was not at
all admissible until the solemnities of matrimony were
duly pronounced by the parson or just-ass of the peace.
However, by reason of the general hardships all had to
encounter, for want of the common conveniences, not to
speak of absolute necessaries for their families, and espe
cially their mutual dependence upon each other for the
defence of the infant settlements agains the incursions of
the savages, great kindness and cordiality took posses
sion of all hearts, and spread throughout the social cir
cles ; putting aside the usual fastidiousness of the charm
ing lady pioneers from Virginia.
O! it was transportingly delightful to witness with
what amiable condescension and beautiful amenity and

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 367
gracefulness of manners they received, among the new
comers, even the overseers and their dowdy wives and
daughters, who came in from Virginia, Maryland, and
the Carolinas. So that the law of neighborly kindness
universally prevailed. The male Virginians and Mary
landers brought with them to the West much of the
roughness, rude diversions, horse racing, wrestling^ jump
ing, shooting, drinking, dancing, &c, usual in their na
tive States. These diversions were often accompanied
with personal combats, blows, kicking, biting, and goug
ing — commonly called " rough and tumble." Sometimes
with what they denominated " pitched battles," in which
the combatants agreed upon the time and place of meet
ing, stipulating the employment of fists only.
But it was not many years ere these rude sports were
supplanted by the more noble ambition for mental culture
and skill in the useful arts. To the rude, and often in
decent song, roughly and unskillfully sung, succeeded the
psalm, the hymn and swelling anthem. To the clamor
ous boast, the provoking banter, the biting sarcasm, the
horrid oath and imprecation, succeeded urbanity of man
ners and conversation, enlightened by science and chas
tened by mental attention and respect. The direful spirit
of revenge, with but few exceptions, became unknown.
Civilization and elegant ease, favored by the abundant
productions of the rich soil, without much labor, readily
furnishing the material and subjects of commerce, changed
in rapid degrees the exterior aspect of the population of
the country, and gave a new current to public feeling and
individual" energy. Religion, also, in all her humanizing
and harmonizing teachings, brought forth in her unosten
tatious ministry, chiefly of the Methodist church, accord
ing to her itinerant plan ; always visiting the cabins of
the frontiers with the same messages of " peace and good
will to man," which they bore and proclaimed to the
dwellers in palaces and parlors ; on the other side the
mountains, alike " in the city full and the wilderness

368 LEGENDS OF THE
waste ; lifting high their voices; sounding the Gospel toc
sin of warning to the wicked, and notes of grace to the
believing penitent. Nay, we presume to say, had it not
been for the labors of these pious, generous, self-sacrifi
cing and most indefatigable servants of God, to a great
extent, instead of our present almost Eden blooming land,
we should have been, at this day, a semi- barbarian re
gion ; and our wilderness would have never blossomed as
the rose, and the solitary places would have never been
made glad, by reason of the coming of those Heavenly

Early views of western society will pretty readily be
understood and appreciated by those who, in the days of
President Washington's, J. Adam's, and Jefferson's ad
ministration, were familiar with the manners, customs,
and feelings of the Virginians and Marylanders. For, as
we have already stated, the former, at least, gave cast
and coloring to everything of a social, moral, religious
and political character. Of the three former, little, it is
true, was cared or felt. Of the latter, all talked much,
yet few understood. All, however, were zealous politi
cians, Republicans or Federalists, as their respective
partizan leaders, Jefferson or Adams, gave direction. Of
the former — morality — little was regarded, less practiced.
For religion, little was cared, less possessed. Churches
were few. Christian ministers were yet fewer. Indeed,
the greater majority that thought or concerned themselves
about such a thing as religion and a Christian ministry,
could scarcely persuade themselves there were any, ex
cept those who were of the English Church, and these
came, not even as angels' visits, few and far between.
None who had not sufficient evidence along with them
that they had been regularly taught religion and divin
ity, and graduated at some ecclesiastical college in Europe
or America, had a right to preach the gospel, or had the
least claim to be heard. The consequence was, that re
ligious feeling and influence occupied a remarkably con-

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 369
tracted sphere in the public mind, and it was among the
rarest things to be met with, that of an experimental and
practical professor of Christianity. Still, however, there
were such to be found, shining here and there, as " lights
in a dark place."
The time, however, to favor Zion in these western
moral wastes — this wide-spread wilderness, budding to
its glorious season of blossom and bloom, was fast com
ing, and in the providence of Almighty God, did shortly
come. 24

370 LEGENDS OF THE

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Religious revival in the West — Eev's John and William M'Ghee—
Their appointments to preach — Preaching at Red River Meeting-
House — Its results — Preaching at Beech Meeting House— Results,
especially on those who came to mock, but remained to pray —
Meeting at Muddy River Church — The Meeting House too small
to accommodate — They go out into the open air — A pulpit is erect
ed — First Camp Meeting — Great results.

"And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost and began to speak
with other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance."
" And as I began to speak, the Holy Ghost fell on them, as on us
in the beginning." — Acts i. 4; xi. 15.
"Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride,
In all the pomp of method and of art,
When men display to congregations wide
Devotion's every grace except the heart ;
But happy we in some cottage far apart
May hear well pleased the language of the soul."
The year 1799 is distinguished for the commencement
of the great revival of religion in the West, and the intro
duction of Camp-meetings in the United States.
This revival commenced under the united labors of two
brothers John and William M'Ghee; the former, a Meth
odist local preacher, and the latter, ordained a Presby
terian minister, and called to the pastorial care of a Pres
byterian congrega ion in Sumner county, Tennessee.
Both had moved with their families from North Carolina
and settled near each other in Smith county — both had
received good educations preparatory to the Presbyterian
ministry. But, when the revolutionary struggle came
on they patriotically decided for their country, and enter
ed the army of the Whigs to battle, side by side, in lib
erty's cause.

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 371
Peace and the independence of the country being se
cured, they both returned to the private circle of their
parents, and both professed conversion and the new birth
under the ministry of a distinguished Methodist preacher
in North Carolina, where they and their parents lived.
After marriage, which occurred shortly after their return
from the army, the elder, John, was made a minister of
the Methodist Episcopal Church,' and the younger, Wil
liam, a minister of the Presbyterian, according to the
order respectively of those Christian denominations.
It was not long after, that they, together with their
families emigrated to that portion of Tennessee of which
we have spoken, then almost an unbroken wilderness, and
settled on farms contiguous to each other. There they
industriously engaged in the business of opening, each a
farm, and cultivating the soil. William, ministering as
pastor of a congregation of Presbyterians in Sumner
county, while John, as a local preacher of the Methodist
Church, preached in a sort of itinerant style, here and
there, throughout that sparsely populated portion of the
state, making war upon the enemies of God and man in
all the potency of the word of truth.
The two brothers were ever greatly allied to each other
and often attended meetings of two day's continuance in
that state. In 1799, living contiguous to that part of
Kentucky commonly called Green River, poorly supplied
with ministers, yet rapidly filling with immigrants, to
visit whicb they had been often urgently solicited, in the
the latter part of the summer, sent forth a series of ap
pointments to hold together,' two day meetings, at a num
ber of places reaching toward the Ohio river, leaving it
to the brethren contiguous to the respective places of ap
pointment, as each meeting was to include a Sabbath, to
make them sacramental meetings, or not, as might best
suit their own wishes.
The first of their appointments was at Red River meet
ing-house, in Logan county, Ky., one of the congregations

372 LEGENDS OF THE
under the charge of Rev. James M'Gready, a Presby
terian clergyman. It was announced as a sacramental
occasion. The two brothers, M'Ghee, came duly to their
appointment, and were met by the Rev. Wm. Hoge, John
Rankin, and James M'Gready. On Saturday the pulpit
was filled by William M'Gheej who delivered an interest
ing discourse, well adapted to a preparation of the con
gregation to participate in the eucharistic feast of the next
day. The assembling of the people was reasonably nu
merous. The order of the next day's services were, a ser
mon in the forenoon by Rev. Mr. Hoge to be followed by
a sermon from Rev. John M'Ghee, and accordingly they
took their positions in the pulpit.
A large congregation for that sparsely peopled neigh
borhood, gathered, and filled the large old log house
very well. Mr. Hoge arose, and, as he was often heard
afterwards, to say addressed the assembly with a freedom
and power of speech he had never felt before. Still, bow-
ever, the hearers though riveted in their attention, remain
ed silent and quiet.
As he closed his discourse, the Bev. John M'Ghee arose
singing, "Come holy spirit, heavenly dove,
With all thy quick'ning powers.
Kindle a flame of sacred love
In these cold hearts of ours."
He had not more than sang through the verse quoted, ere
an aged lady, Mrs. Pacely, sitting quite across the con
gregation, to his left, and Mrs. Clark, also advanced in
years, Bomewhat to his right,began in rather suppressed,
yet distinct tones of voice to hold a sprt of dialogue with
each other, and to reciprocate sentiments of praise and
gladness to the " Most High," for His grace and good
ness in redemption. Still the preacher, sang on — still the
venerable ladies in louder terms praised God ! The
preacher, yet singing this beautj-frd and most supplicatory
hymn, came down from the pulpit, intending to take the;

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 373
hands of those two happy sisters, shaking hands, however,
as he passed, with all those within his reach. Instantly
they fell as he progressed through the crowd — some as
dead men and women— some most piteously crying for
mercy, and a few, here and there, lifting their voices high
in the praise of the Redeemer. Among these last was
the Rev. Wm. M'Ghee, who fell to the floor, and, though
shouting praises, was for some time so overpowered with
the divine afflatus that he was not able to rise. The other
ministers, M'Gready, Hoge, and Rankin, were so surpri
sed and astonished with this apparent confusion, in the
house of the Lord, that they made their way to, and out
at the door, and there continued for some minutes, whisp-
eringly enquiring of one another, "What is to be done ?"
There they might have remained yet longer, had not Mr.
Hoge, who returned to the door, and seeing all on the
floor, praying or praising, said to his reverend brethren :
"We can do nothing. If this be of Satan, it will soon
come to an end. But if of God, our efforts and fears are
vain ! I think it is of God, and will join in giving glory
to His name."
He walked into the house, while the others presently
followed. Rapidly some of those who fell to the floor
mourning and crying for mercy, rose, sometimes two or
more at the same moment, shouting praise for the eviden
ces they felt in their souls of sins forgiven — for "redeem
ing grace, and dying love!" So there remained no more
place, that day, for preaching, or the administering of the
sacrament. From thirty to forty that evening professed
conversion, and to have found " peace with God, through
our Lord, Jesus Christ."
Their next appointment was for the Saturday and Sab
bath following, at what is to this day called the Beech
meeting-house, situated a little south-east of the Cumber
land Ridge, ten miles west of Gallatin, Sumner county,
Tennessee, and seventeen miles north-east of Nashville.
Hither, even on Saturday, many hundreds of the inhabi-

374 LEGENDS OF THE
tants of the adjacent country, in earnest and anxious
haste, from a considerable distance around, had come.
The news of the wonderful power displayed, at the Red
River meeting, on the Sabbath preceding, and "the time
of refreshing from the presence of the Lord," poured out
on that occasion, had spread, as. if by electric communica
tion, together with the announcement of the preaching
by the brothers at the Beech, throughout much of the
Green River portion of Kentucky and of all middle Ten
nessee. Some came to witness and catch, if happily they
might, "these touches of his love," some to pray and
praise, while a far greater number came to witness, ana
lyze and expose what they were pleased to stigmatize
with the stereotyped phrases and brands of infidelity in
every land, and country, and in all ages, "fanaticism,
wild-fire, and hypocrisy."
We will hear the results, however, of the experiments
made, by many of these last, who came, as they afterwards
declared, to laugh and deride.
At 11 o'clock, A. M., the two brothers, John and Wil
liam M'Ghee, were at their posts, met by other ministers
of the Presbyterian and Methodist orders, to learn and
know for themselves what this strange matter meant.
The preaching commenced. The Rev. John M'Ghee
commenced the services; and the writer of these narra
tives well remembers to have heard from the lips of that
venerable old man, when speaking of the events of that
time, and of the occurrences, particularly, at Beech meet
ing-house, when at a Camp-meeting near the same place,
in Sumner county, about thirty years after. He quoted
the words from Acts xi, 15, heading this chapter. " And
as I began to speak, the Holy Ghost fell on them, as on
us in the beginning." And said, "hundreds fell and
began, to rejoice, or plead for pardoning mercy." To
many, very many, it proved a most joyous season and
little less than one hundred of the gathered crowds of
sinners professed peace through faith in Christ.

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 375
And yet, the tidings of these wondrous demonstrations
of power to bless and save, winged their way to regions
farther and wider. And when the days came, the ensuing
Saturday and Sunday, for the next meeting, of those
brothers, at Muddy River, three miles east of Russellville,
the gathering of the people from distant parts of the two
states, some twenty, thirty, fifty and even one hundred
miles, was astonishing! Some in tented wagons, some
in open wagons, some in carts, some on horses and many
on foot!
The meeting-house it was found, hours before preach
ing time, could not seat the third part of those already
gathered. And still they came, by dozens, fifties, and
hundreds. A temporary pulpit, therefore, was quickly
erected under the foliage of a contiguous grove of thick
and broad-spreading trees, seats were made of large
timber felled, and, laid upon the ground. Here the thou
sands seated themselves, and the worship commenced.
Soon the presence of the all-pervading power of the Most
High was felt by all. Some crying for mercy, some in
ecstacies of joy and praise, strewed the ground. Many
of the former were members of the churches and had been
for many years such ! Nay, not a few of them had been,
for years, preachers of the gospel, but now, for the first
time, convinced thoroughly of sin, and of their absolute
need of the converting grace of God applied to their own
hearts. One of those, in a conversation with .the writer
the universally beloved, well known and respected,
Samuel Wilson, who lived on the very ground, we may
say, we are now describing, and the place of this meeting,
to a great age, and where now, his venerated ashes lie
interred, said: "Up to the time of that meeting, from a
young man, I belonged to the Presbyterian Church, and
long had been a ruling Elder in the congregations to
which I belonged, persuaded myself I had religion, hoped
and hoped I had religion, but there I found I was deceived
into that hope, that it was without foundation, and never

376 LEGENDS OF THE
until that blessed meeting at Muddy River did I know,
for myself, Christ's power on earth to forgive sin. My
preacher also," he said, " Rev. James M'Gready, was for
a time there, among those crying for mercy, and never
before, as he often told me afterwards, felt a scriptural
assurance that he was born of God. This you may de
pend, my friend," continued this simple-hearted, but
most sensible and useful Christian, " was the case with
almost all of us Presbyterians there, and all through the
country, at that time. We did not know what it was to
have God's ' spirit bear testimony with our spirits, that
we were children of God '."
Thus spoke this truly christian man; and it gives u&
pleasure, here to record, in honor of his name and pious
life, that after fulfilling, with great dignity and universal
approbation, all the relative duties of husband, father,
neighbor, citizen, and a responsible public officer, he died
a beloved and most exemplary member of a Presbyterian
church, having lived as such more than forty-five years.
But to return to a further discription of the proceedings
of the meeting at Muddy River. Above we have said
the ground round the temporary pulpit erected in the
grove, was litterally strewed with the slain of God's con
victing power ; and we, further remark, that the number
of these was constantly augmented. Witb some appre
hension of mind, some of those who lived nearest the
place, saw. night approaching, while the meeting grew
hourly more solemn and interesting, the seekers of salva
tion every moment increasing, — and began to think how
these mighty multitudes, from so great distance from their
homes, after night, were to find shelter, and to be fed.
It was believed by them, all the dwellings for ten miles
round, put in requisition, would not give them shelter.
What was to be done? "Eight or ten of us," said the
venerable Mr. Samuel Wilson, "began to think of the
same difficulties at the same time. We hurried together,
as if by accident, and began to talk about it. One pro-

W.AE OF INDEPENDENCE. 377
posed one thing and another something else. I proposed
that I and my neighbor, Col. Daniel M. Goodwin, should
take three or four of the many wagons on the ground,
hasten to our treading yards and barns, and bring all the
straw we had, to spread the ground. Others to sewing
together the wagon sheets, and others cutting forks and
poles, on which to spread the same, together with coun
terpanes, coverlits and bed sheets, secured together like
wise, to make tents or camps. While others should be
dispatched to town and all the nearest houses to gather
all the bacon, flour, and meal, and cooking utensils, neces
sary, in which to prepare the provisions for the multi
tudes. In a few hours it was a sight to see how much
was gathered together in preparation for our encampment,
and food for the hungry. Soon we strewed a half-acre,
at least, with the straw, pushed up a large tent spreading
over the pulpit and for a distance in front, and then ten
or twelve smaller ones, in order, ranging round the
ground where the straw and people were spread, standing
and sitting. Fires were built, cooking begun, and by
dark candles lighted and fixed on a hundred trees around
and interspersing the ground surrounded by the tents,
showing forth the first, and I believe still, one of the most
beautiful, camp-meetings the world has ever seen."
The meeting progressed and continued for four days,
night and day. Several hundreds professed conversion,
many back-sliders joyfully proclaimed their restoration
to the favor and blessings of their heavenly Father, and
still a greater number, when the meeting closed, went
forth yet mourning, and enquiring, "saw ye the Lord
whom my soul desireth to love," &c.
Here then, we cease with this narrative, having feebly,
we feel, but faithfully we know, traced the history of the
first camp-meeting in America, and we fully believe, the
first in the world, properly speaking; except those mus
terings of the captains and their hosts, of the children of
Israel, in their exodus through the wilderness to the land

378 LEGENDS OF THE
of promise, and their assemblage for the worship of the
God of Hosts, guided by " the pillar of cloud by day, and
pillar of fire by night," are to be regarded as such. Thus
briefly, also, we have given the first exhibitions and
effects of the great revival of religion, which so signally
marked and characterised the earlier immigrants to the
eswt; effecting in a great variety of ways the various
sects, and church organizations of Protestants; first in
Kentucky, and Tennessee in respect to membership, faith
and practice; and quickly, in the mercy of its great
Author, spreading to all the populated and peopling por
tions of this vast continent, giving new life and energy to
the great cause of evangelizing the world, and enlarging
the borders of Messiah's kingdom on earth.
For the verity of the facts we have narrated, even in
detail, both as it regards this great revival, and the origin
of Camp-meetings, we rely upon the statements of hun
dreds of eye-witnesses of the events themselves, the co-
temporaries and intimate acquaintances and friends of
the Messrs. M'Ghee,, whose lives of piety and usefulness
they well knew from the beginning. All these, however
as we know, are now gone down to the grave, but many
of whose participation in the interesting events when and
as they occurred stand well authenticated and recorded,
and whose pious and useful services in the church during
long lives, built up characters forbidding all doubt of the
truth of their statements.
O ! it was delightful to us, and to all who took an in
terest in religious matters, or even those who found enter
tainment in the earlier history of these western wilds, to
listen to the grateful and joyful accounts given by many
of the happy participants in this great revival of the bliss
ful assemblings of the people at those camp, and other
meetings, where, "the stately stoppings of our Immanuel
were so demonstrably seen ! while the hearts of his joy
ous followers, imbued with his love, sweetly harmonized,
dwelt and acted together in unity."

WAE OF INDEPENEENCE. 379
Particularly was this the case with the Methodists and
Presbyterians. They admitted and believed the doctrines,
as taught by the scriptures, of the direct witness of the
"spirit with our spirits, that we are born of God." But
for this faith and practice, many of them, we lament to
say, were afterwards made the subjects of persecutions
and bitter denunciations from their own brethren, who
stood aloof from these meetings, and had tied their faith
and practice to the Calvanistic dogmas of election and
reprobation !
The Methodists always believed and taught the doc
trines of the direct witness of the spirit to the believing
soul. That it was by the operation of the divine spirit,
the third person in the adorable trinity, through the word
of His grace the sinner was convicted, justification made
known and sanctification and redemption perfected.
These things, however, the tenets of the Presbyterian
brethren, and confession of faith, and in short, all other
of the Calvinistic Protestant sects denied, and taught
otherwise. Indeed how could they consistently admit
them to be true ? Believing, as their confession of faith,
and all other of their standard writings declared, that all
salvation was in virtue of, and accomplished by, the sove
reign and infallible decree and gracious foreordination of
God, from before the foundation of the world. To be
consistent, we say,- those brethren must needs be under
stood to differ- from the Methodists on those doctrines of
the immediate agency and efficacy of the Holy Ghost.
Hence the denunciations, generally, of the Calvinistic
orders against the disorders, as they chose to call them,
of the revival of which we have been speaking, and of the
meetings we have been describing, which followed under
its divine influence. But many men and women, servants
of God, and willing to labor, preach, and pray for the
salvation of souls belonging to those orders, were among
the earliest participants in that blessed out-pouring of the
spirit of life and salvation, and the earliest in the field to

380 LEGENDS OF THE
do battle for the Lord at the meetings throughout the
Union, which have ensued and still ensue. And we
rejoice to say that among the most pious, useful and faith
ful, practical Christians we have ever known, have been
men whose creeds and confessions of faith hung solely
upon the eternal and immutable decrees of the Almighty,
yet who were daily, in the language of the apostle Jude,
"building up themselves, on their most holy faith, pray
ing in the Holy Ghost, keeping themselves in the love of
God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ,
unto eternal life." Such have ever loved, with the
people called Methodists, since 1799; revivals and camp-
meetings. For many years the honored ^instruments in the hands
of a gracious providence, by whom this wonderful revival
of primitive and evangelical Holiness was exhibited in
the west, and which has spread all over the republic,
wrought good in all the Christian churches, and still is
accomplishing bo much for the saving of souls, the two
M'Ghees, lived in Tennessee. Each died at his post, in
the communion of saints on earth, to rise again to the
communion of saints in Heaven.
"How blest the righteous when they die !
When holy souls retire to rest,
How mildly beams the closing eye,
How gently heaves the expiring breast ! —
So fades the summer cloud away,
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,
So dies the wave upon the shore."

WAE 0tf INDEPENDENCE. 381

CHAPTER XXXVII.

State of Western Society— Dr. Gist's story of the honey — Its disas*
trpus results — Is confirmed by Dr. Wilmot— His additional re
marks.

"But they say the bee's a roamer
That he'll fly when sweets are gone j
And, when once the kiss is over,
Faithless brooks will wander on !— ^
Nay, if flowers will lose their looks,
If sunny banks will wear away,
'Tis but right that bee's and brooks
Should sip and kiss them when they may^j^Mooret
Returning once again to a contemplation of the earlier
settlements in the West, and to a relation of the peculiar
phases exhibited in the moral, religious and efocial rela-
tions of its inhabitants, we remark, as before we have said
in substance, that in these aspects, Virginia manners,
habits and customs predominated, diflering only, to any
material or very observable extent, in what we may term
western speed, or western fastness, as contradistinguished
from the almost tread-mill progress made by their pro
genitors on the eastern, or Atlantic side of the Allegha-
nies. For, strange as it may seem, the painter of charac
ter and progress in the West, contrasting those in the
older States, particularly Virginia and North Carolina, is
compelled, in justice, to seem to exaggerate and deal in
the marvelous.
There appears actually something in the air breathed,
the invigorating and cheering draughts of- the pure, lime
stone water they quaffed for the first time, the enlarged
and enrapturing views of the vast expanse of hill and
dale, forest dell and Eden-blooming prairies, of fertile

382 legends of the
farms, villages and hamlets springing up in a day, giving
a hundred fold increase to the entire man, mentally,
morally and physically. The result is, therefore, that
speedily, your slow, cautious and very punctilious Virgi
nia impractical, regenerated and rejuvenated, became a
George Rogers Clark, a Daniel Boone, a Bland Ballard, a
Tom M'Clanahan, or a Simon Kenton, aye even a Simon
Girty, a Nick of the Woods, or, "a Horse- in the cane-
break, a little touched with the snapping turtle!" And
as to the famed hospitality of the inhabitants of the Old
Dominion, here they have not only been known to give
cordially to man and beast, entertainment, "aid and com
fort for a night, and as much more as he pleased," to the
passing stranger, not dreaming of compensation, but also
insisting, before he leaves, he shall go home and bring
also his wife and children and share the hospitalities and
courteous cheer of their frontier cottages !
Literary attainment or much of scholastic education was
not a great deal enjoyed, or much more prized. But in
the West, "the reader may rely upon it, the young gentle
men springing from the families of the genuine early Vir
ginia and Maryland immigrants quickly entitled them
selves to the appellation " of fast " young gentlemen. Their
feats of learning at gin-mill grammar-schools, and geo
graphical and arithmetical lecture schools, were truly
wonderful. Born and bred in the new world of prodi
gies, and reared in the midst of the feats of their fathers
killing Indians, shooting buffalo, seven -horned elk, ter
rific bears and ferocious panthers, narrated and garnished
with items of the most marvelous hair-breadth - escapes
and miraculous successes and victories. Such constituted
the chief elements of their son's conversational exercises
as well as fashionable accomplishments. Indeed the
great wonder is, there did not arise, and rapidly spread
all through the country as the fruitage of such an abun
dant planting and culture, many hundreds, nay thousands
of Munchausens, Robinson Crusoes, Arabian Nights and

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 383
Don Quixotes, with Sancho de Panzas. But in those days
there were, if any, few book publishers in all these lands,
or otherwise such a flood of comicalities as Davy Crockett,
in forty lives, could never have "grinned into potatoe
peelings." As it was, however, the young geniuses con
tented themselves generally with spinning their yarns of
western adventure to the entertainment of their wonder-
loving dulcineas, to the extortion of showers of " O my's!"
"dear me's," and "you don't say so's," from their tidy
high-capped antiquated mammas, and gruff, "I wonders,"
from their old fogy papas.
Specimens innumerable of these Young- Am erica, yarn-
spinning fillibusteis might be given. A few we will
here subjoin.
We mention first Dr. Thomas Gist, born near Lexing
ton, and chiefly educated at Transylvania University.
An expert talker, (and who of the descendants of Virgi
nia parents are not?) a regular graduate of Pennsylvania
Medical Institute, a man of wonderful sight-seeing, and a
narrator of more tales of thunder and death and love' and
murder, than forty thousand old women could listen to or
unravel, or forty thousand old fogies could begin to.believe
to be true. Very well.
This dashing Lothario, came, saw, and was conquered
by the fascinating charms of Miss. Courtney Baylor,
daughter of Col. Robert Baylor, late of Virginia, and his
hundred negroes! All sweet and honied in hope and
word, be deemed it prudent and necessary to win the fair
lady by most industriously and cautiously pouring forth
from his wordy battery, stories, learned by land and sea,
of mortals bewitched, or by jack-o'lanterns drowned. It
would'nt do. So he resolved to throw himself " upon his
reserved rights and real Kentucky invention." Therefore,
on his next call on his fair one, he determined upon some
thing most delectable to her fancy and taste. So being
in preparation, he very seriously and pompously delivered
himself, on his next visit, in this wise :

384 LEGENDS OF TflE
"Well, did you ever hear, Miss Courtney, of the won-
derful occurrence that took place some years . ago in
Philadelphia in respect to the bees and the great amount
of honey aand honey-comb got from the old church, at
one time ?"
Of course he was answered in the negative.
" 0 ! I wonder you, never heard of it 1 Why the winter
I was .last there attending the lectures, the session I re
ceived my diploma as M. D., the greatest bee-hive ever
opened was that fall found. Forty* years before, when
they were putting a new roof upon the old church and
when the workmen had nearly finished, there came a
swarm of bees and settled on a rafter. The workmen
just went on and shingled over the bees, and there they
remained, working, swarming and peopling the garret for
forty years, till it was literally filled to the roof with the
most beautiful comb, as white as alabaster, richly filled
with the most delightful honey. Sixty-five hogsheads of
it were shipped to Liverpool, and there remained enough
to supply every family in the city, rich and poor, high
and low that winter. It was so distributed !" ,
"O! doctor what a — — I" said Miss Courtney Baylor.
"Alas! alas!" said her grave and truly gentlemanly
Virginia father, who was near and heard the whole story,
"Doctor Thomas Gist, I have now for at least the hun
dredth time, been compelled through politeness to sit and
listen to your contemptible twaddle and remorseless false
hoods, till I have not the conscience to endure it any lon
ger. I cannot submit to your course of falsehood, before
myself and in the presence even of the ladies of my house
hold, without sinking myself to the grade of a common
falsifier. Will you please, sir, find my door as soon as
you can make it convenient, and have the politeness
never to enter it again ? Be assured it will greatly
oblige me."
The young Kentuckian looked unutterable confusion.
First at his blushing, fair one, who quitted the parlor

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 385
while the Col., her father, was yet speaking, and then he
gazed with amazement at the stern and resolute features
of -the old gentleman, who also hastily rose and quitted
the roOm, leaving the gay Lothario dreadfully astounded,
eyes distended, mouth expanded, and every way the pic
ture of desperation and the victim of surprise and despair.
At last, however, arOused; to a sense of the necessity of
immediate action he arose from his seat, and muttering to
himself that he had never known so much honey to create
so much bitterness, seized his hat, ordered his horse and
disappeared, a used-up man.
The young and very pretty Miss Courtney B., from
thence refused any further entertainment Of his proposals
in the Ijne of courtship, and the young Kentuckian was
left'freeto direct his invincibilities, in future, to whatso
ever like Object his prurient enterprise might suggest.
¦ This (gentleman had the'good^fortune to boast of a lady
friend. ' The lady of a member of Congress, no less skilled
in arranging iand adjusting all ¦ the . matrimonial affairs
within ;any reasonable distance in the early settlements of
the West as well as of all matters of etiquette and neigh
borly comity of action, as her honored husband was in
national legislation. To her he made known his utter
overthrow at Col.H's, the' honey story, &c. Promptly
the honorable lady showered upon him all her sympathies
in; the most approved expressions of contempt for such
proud airsj' exhorting him to treat the affair with silent
contempt — that the BV did not seem to her, as they
elaimed to be, one of the F. F. V's, any way, enter
taining, or pretending to entertain, such a disgust for
honey because it happened to be raised in Pennsylvania
and not in Virginia!' And many other pretty things the
lady said, to the great comfort and consolation- of the dis
comfited Kentucky gallant. But, be it remembered, this
truly sympathising, magnanimous lady friend introduced
to his; acquaintance a young, accomplished niece, just
reached the west on a visit from Virginia to her sister,
25

386 LEGENDS OF THE
Mrs. Minor, at Clarksville, and to her aunt at whose
house she was then spending Borne weeks. Indeed she
was a lovely girl ! And no wonder our young hero was
at a loss to determine, from the first, whether the delight
ful words of his sympathising friend, the aunt, or the en
trancing smiles and beauty of the lovely Virginia niece,
Miss Nancy Barber, had brought the most consolation to
his wounded heart and pride of character. At all events
he concluded he must see them both shortly again or his
stock of consolations would totally evaporate. Early,
therefore, he again visited them, and crowned with equal
success, often repeated the delicious, antidote.
Meanwhile this lady friend, indeed, of our young Ken
tucky M. D., plied all her superior powers of inquiry and
investigation, to get to the bottom of the honey story.
O! she "would see if her young friend, Dr. T. Gist, was
justified in the truth of the honey narrative or not. And
if he was, she would let the B's know it, certain." Well,
most opportunely on visiting a sick neighbor she made
the acquaintance of Dr. Robert Ridgely Wilmott, attendant
physician, a fine-looking, young Kentuckian, admirably
(as it was said) educated at Transylvania University, tra
velled, as he said, over all the six continents of the earth
and two or three of those of the moon. Of course there
was no man had ever seen as much, or could talk so
familiarly of this universe as Dr. R. R. Wilmott, born in
Kentucky about the time Daniel Boone made his break
fast upon two buffaloes and a panther. His parents were
Marylanders. And no lady of half the knowledge and
experience of men and manners possessed -. by Mrs. Mary
W., would be at all at a loss to determine that he was
fond of talking, and wielded rather extraordinary collo
quial powers, i
" Well, Doctor Wilmott," said she, after a brief ac
quaintance, "I dare say you are a graduate of , the Penn
sylvania Medical University, and I should like to inquire
of you what years: you attended the lectures there and
graduated ?"

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 387
" Yes madam, certainly. I was a student at Philadel
phia in the years 1796 and 1797."
"OP' she replied, "I verily believe that was exactly
the tirhe, or about the time, my dear friend, Dr. Thomas
Gist, graduated at that medical institution."
"No madam, he received his diploma as M. D., pre
cisely one year before I went there."
" You «k'now him then ?" said the lady.
"Know him, madam? Why as well as if I had made
him, as old chums, at Transylvania and every where
else." "Well indeed, now this is fortunate," said she, "tell
me if you plteaBe, Dr. Wilmott, did you ever hear any
thing at Philadelphia of the many hundreds of hogsheads
of honey comb; taken by the corporation of that city,
at the time Dr. Gist was there, from the garret of a church
and who sent one hundred hogsheads to Liverpool, besides
furnishing an abundance to every family in the city for
their consumption during the entire winter ?"
"Yes; indeed, madam. Aye ¦ yes, yes. But pray, my
dear lady, what has prompted these enquiries iv
"Well, doctor," she said, "I will tell you," and she
proceeded to narrate, in every particular, and with all due
emphasis, her friend's adventure at Col. Baylor's, giving
in his exact words, the doctor's story of the church, the
bees, and the honey-comb, and concluding with a pretty
severe pbillipic pronounced against the airs of the Bay-
kws,&c. •'
" Why, dear me, madam/' replied Dr. Robert Ridgely
Wilmott, " silly airs they were truly. For I well remem
ber I heard not only of the shipment to Liverpool, but of
a like quantity to Amsterdam', and not only the furnish
ing of the city, the winter your friend graduated as M.
D., but I and everybody else luxuriated most gloriously
upon it two years afterwards ! Truly, madam, travelers
that have seen a little of the world, and been subjected
to a few of the occasional adventures to which the inhabi-

388 LEGENDS OF THE
tants of these mundane shores are always incident, must
be exceedingly careful, in the presence of your truth-lov
ing, punctilious, chivalrous Virginia dignitaries, lest they
speak of something beyond the ordinary occurrences, and
exhibitions of their mill-pathj or the court-house green.
Why, madam, I dare say, if I were to relate to the Bay
lors the hundredth part of the wonders I have seen in my
extended travels by land and sea, they would discredit
me, for a miserable fabricator of old women's fables!
And if I were to narrate to them even a single adventure
of my life, — that of my being clutched up by the Golden
American Eagle, that used to inhabit in great numbers
the tall cliffs of the Kentucky River, borne to the highest
peak of the Cumberland mountains, and there left, though
unhurt, to clamber down as best I could to the fertile vales
below, they would wholly disbelieve me ! Or if I were
to tell them of the visit I once made to old Treadwell's
mutton mill-, in North Carolina, where I saw one of the
very poorest old sheep, I ever saw, thrown up into the
hopper, ground over and turned out, right away, five first
rate fat quarters of mutton, two wool hats, and a leather
apron, they would want me prosecuted for lunacy ! Why,
madam, Dr. Gist's honey story is perfectly jejune, flat,
and, insipid compared with either of these."
"Well, well, Doctor Wilmott, I am sure I can't tell
about, that," she said, "but I am sure I can now prove to
the Baylors, by evidence they dare not dispute, they are
utterly wrong, entirely too hasty, and put on entirely too
many airs for the West, though they are Virginians.
: " Oh sons of earth 1 attempt ye still to rise
'By mountains piled on mountains, to the skies ?
Heaven s.tyi^tl^- laughter, thy vain toil suryeys,
., , And buries madmen in the heaps they raise." — J^ope.

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 389

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Religion in the West--The revival of 1799 — Its effects— Dissenting
of the Presbyterians and denial of God's hand in the work — Re
sults of such denial — Cause of the organization of the Cumberland
Presbyterian Church — Conclusion.

" And there was a day when the sons of God came to present
themse)yes before the Lord, a,nd Satan came also among them,"
— Job i, 1.
" And again there was a day when the sons of God came to pre
sent themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them,
to present himself before the Lord. And the Lord said unto Satan,
from whence comest thou ? And Satan answered the Lord, and
said, from going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and
down in it." — Job ii,, 1, 2.
In several of the preceding pages we have given some
account of the revival of 1799 or 1800, which so vitally
effected and powerfully controlled, generally, the reli-
gioufe opinions, observances, and intercourse of the earlier
settlers in the great valley of the Mississippi, ako of the
rise and progress of camp-meetings, as consequent upon
that revival ; spreading on from Kentucky and Tennessee,
east, south, and northeast, crossing the Alleghanies, on
ward to the Atlantic shores. Reference, also, is made to
the general dearth of mdral and religious feeling, and
destitution ot an evangelical ministry at the time of the
occurrence ; while the feebleness and simplicity of the
means employed by the Almighty to bring them about,
are likewise, to some extent, presented in the simple nar
rative of the facts, thus enabling the reader, by a compar
ison of these with the ordinary means employed by the
Divine Ruler and Governor of the universe, as shown
forth in His^wn inspiration— the Bible ; and which, as

390 LEGENDS OF THE
it seems to us, judging by analogy, was a divine influ
ence among the people of the west ; and should, instead
of being a ground of contention and bitter denunciation
toward their advocates, have been gratefully acknowl
edged by all lovers of Christianity, as productive of the
happiest effects upon all that sought for, and became par
takers of, its power and grace ; and cheerfully and faith
fully maintained and cultivated for its heavenly origin
and teachings.
Thousands became awakened to their interest in the
things that belong to their everlasting well being. Thou
sands converted to God, proved it by a long life of con
sistent profession and action, to be genuine. The " wicked
man forsaking his way, and the unrighteous man his
thoughts." ' ' Turning to the Lord, who had mercy on
him, and to our God who had abundantly pardoned him."
Yet such, little as christian men may be inclined to be
lieve it, hundreds of the hope so brethren denounced, both
them and all the partakers and advocates of the revival,
as workers of iniquity. Yea, even some of the partakers
themselves, in the first instance of its exercises and bene
fits, came afterward to decry its divine origin, repudia
ting the voice, " crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the
way of the Lord, make straight his paths," and joined in
with infidels, and other practical opposers of God, deny
ing that it " was a time of refreshing from the presence
of the Lord ;" asserting that all those that declared, in
strict scriptural language, that it was a manifestation of
God's power on earth, to forgive sins, that " the spirit it
self bore testimony with their spirits that they were born
of God," (as yery many did) were all deluded fanatics,
enthusiasts^ bewitched by some evil influence, or led cap
tive by Satan himself.
Of these last, however, it is hard for us to refrain from
comparing them to certain of whom the Apostle Peter
speaks, and compares to " the sow that was washed,
turned to her wallowing in the mire" — "the dog to his

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 391
vomit." These, we said, at first participated in the revi
val, — were for a time its advocates, and showed evident
marks of, and loudly proclaimed to be themselves in the
enjoyment of the converting grace of God. But they be
came the bitterest revilersof the brethren that adhered to
the faith and practice of the privileges of the revival, and
denounced them all, as we have before stated.
What, then, became of these? — we almost hear the
reader inquire. This writer does not know, and cannot
answer as to many of them. Some of them emigrated to
other and distant regions of the country, far off in the
West. Many of them, however, too many, and (we re
cord the fact with painful and almost indescribable sensa
tions of sorrow and regret) fell into manifold snares and
temptations of Satan, Some became Fatalists, and anti-
revivalists, of course. Some open and avowed Antino-
mians ; some new New Lights ; some Shakers ; some So-
cinians ; some Universalists ; some Pelagians ; and some
" counting the blood of the covenant wherewith they
were sanctified, an unholy thing," denied, at last, the di
vine authenticity of the Bible of God.
Now does the reader doubt and inquire — can these
things be so ? Is it possible that men, ministers of the
Gospel, and others who thus for years lived in its faith
and practice, proclaimed in language and acts of obedi
ence unmistakable, its power to save ? We say again, as
we have already, in sorrow and chagrin said, that with
such we were personally, and, we might say, intimately
acquainted, in all their after life, and affirm solemnly, it
is so. Trace, reader, the acknowledged and current his
tories of those times, and the years following. Look into
the biographies of many of the earliest actors and parti
cipants in that remarkable revival. Inquire for the
Last Days— for the " last state " of the Craigheads, the
Balches, Donnells, McNamers, Bowmans, Houstons, Bar
tons, Stones, Rankins, , Marshalls and McCombes, the
Smiths, Creths, and Campbells.

392 LEGENDS OF THE
A heathen once sai$, " whom the gods doom to de
struction, they first make mad ; " and there are those,
who,, in the exercise of the freedom of volition choose
" evil in the error of their ways," of whom God has said,
" He would bring upon them strong delusions, that they
might believe a lie," &c. Ought we not, humbled under
a just view of our own weakness and fallibility, say with
the Apostle Paul, 1st. Cor. x. 12 — " Let him that think-
eth he standeth, take heed lest he fall."
But, that the courteous reader be at no loss to deter
mine our purpose in returning to, and extending our re
marks in regard to the revival of 1800, as it is very com
monly called, though as we have shown, it took its rise
in the latter part of the summer or first of the fall of
1799, as in connection with a detail of its effects upon the
moral, social and religious condition of society among the
earlier settlers of the West, we state, as we have hereto
fore in another place stated, its progress was greatly crip
pled and retarded by a host of oppos'ers. First, by the
wicked of every grade in every rank, conjoined might
and main with Satan and every Satanic emissary. This,
however, was perfectly natural. All, as it was a work
of God, a mighty means of saving sinners, would have
anticipated, or expected that would be the case. But it
is a lamentable fact that it was opposed, also, by the pro
fessed followers of Jesus, readers of the Bible, in the
greater number of the Protestant churches, especially the
Calvinistic branches of them, who decried it and its ad
vocates as being side by side with the bitterest subjects
and most fanatic supporters of the Pope of Rome, here
and elsewhere. And why ? Was Satan divided against
himself? Was Christ and Belial in fellowship with each
other ? Never — no, never. What, then, was the matter ?
Why, then, did the Protestant Calvinistic christians op
pose ? A thousand explanations and reasons have been
given, or attempted to be given, by some, and conjec
tured by others. But we must be permitted to reject

WAE OF INDEPENDENCE. 393
them all, as altogether unsatisfaptory. and inadequate.
Some charged the meetings consequent upon the revival,
the excitement produced by those rejoicing and shouting
the praises of God,; together with the loud cries of sinners
to Almighty God for mercy, as being nothing but "noise
and confusion," " unscriptural and unchristian disorder,"
and they "would have none of it."
Why they said, when seekers of religion, in the for
giveness of sins, whoj feeling the answer of peace to their
prayers through faith in Christ, rose from their knees
with tears of joy streaming down their cheeks, giving
glory to God for redeeming grace and dying love, was
indecent and satanic, and dealing with familiar spirits!
Many of these opposers, we are induced to believe, joined
in these general denunciations of the advocates and be
lievers in the genuineness of the revival from ignorance.
They were, for the most part, members of the church who
never witnessed such displays of the convicting and con
verting power of the spirit of grace, and such seasons of
"refreshing from the presence of the Lord," and who
being prejudiced by the reports of the enemies of all reli
gion, in wholesale denunciations, rife with the stereotyped
charges of hypocrisy, indecency, disorder, and the like,
kept themselves at a continued distance from these meet
ings of the sons of God. They came not within the influ
ence of the pervading spirit of those meetings, but satis
fied themselves in pronouncing the harsh judgments upon
all, indiscriminately, who favored and partook of them.
Hence, bitter, unchristian aud unchastened revilings of
brethren of the same communion, in the same church,
spread throughout the land.
But it was mainly among the brethren of the Presby
terian church that bitterness, denunciation and excommu
nication, for belief in the genuineness of this revival, be
came most common. There the opposers of the revival,
claiming, with great self-complacency, to be the exclusive
orthodoxy of the times', and sole correct expounders of

394 LEGENDS OF THE
the word of God ! having shut themselves up in their
confessions of faith, and teachings that His fore -knowl
edge of all things was as a necessary consequence, a fore
ordination of " whatsoever cometh to pass," — and that as
the beneficiaries of the redemption of Christ, were the
elect of God, decreed from before the foundation of the
world and infallibly to be saved, do what they would,
while all others were passed by, and left in their sins to
perish do what they could ; they very consistently, as we
have said, repudiated and rejected the appliances and
opportunities of those revival meetings, for the conviction,
conversion and final salvation of sinners. As "all that
mighty affair in the sovereign grace, mercy and power of
God, himself, was immutably fixed, fore-ordained and
decreed from before the foundation of the world."
But let us not seem even to do these conscientious, pious
and sincere brethren injustice. They saw, or, very many
of them at least, thought they saw, that in the revival
exercises and meetings, many hundreds of the converts
whom they previously knew personally to be the wickedest
servants of Satan, lived changed, and for years, faithful
christians, yea, from thence-forth until death. As they
are justly entitled to be considered lovers of good, we
respectfully express the opinion, that they should have
grounded and ceased all this bitter denunciation of their
brethren, the Cumberland Presbyterians (as they are now
called) and the Methodists, who have always believed in
these revivals as being productive of real conversions to
the service of the living God. Should they have made
these opinions, and the honest exercise of them, cause of
such denunciations, nay, even of the excommunication of
brethren ? We think not. Yet this they did, and still
do! Should the prayers of the convicted sinner to God
for mercy "with strong cries and tears," at these meet
ings,, have been called the co- workings of the devil, and
such sinners' rejoicing, when made to believe their sins
were forgiven and owned it before men, feeling the wit-

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 395
ness of the spirit within that they were born of God, have
been made the ground of abuse and utter repudiation ?
Alas! alas! that mere pre-conceived opinions should
accomplish such sad consequences ! Yet so it is!
Bnt our good brethren found difficulties in the way, to
the maintaining such christian charity. Ah, our creeds —
our confessions of faith are put in danger. "Away with
it!" was then, and still is, their cry.
And what think you, reader, was the real difficulty ?
Why all the revival preachers and people, converts and
all, believed, and taught, and professed openly, the simple
scriptural doctrine of the witness of the spirit to the con
verted believer. They all spoke one language. They all
talked of their hearts being filled with "the love of God
shed abroad " by the Holy Ghost given unto us. O ! all
this was too bad ! Aye, yes, it was anything else than a
mere " hope so " — a mere, " I hope my sins are forgiven,"
— a mere " hope I have got religion," as taught by the
Calvinistic creeds and practice. Hence they could not
affiliate it, but characterised such boldness in expressions
of joy and confidence in the religion of the, blessed Re
deemer as highly immodest and presumptuous, and wor
thy of a dozen other ugly names. Well, they honestly
thought, or it seemed so. There was yet another thing
showed itself in process of time as an accompaniment of
these revival meetings, that proved beyond all contro
versy, as those Calvinistic opposers said of satanic origin.
The bodily exercises, demoniac howlings, as they called
them, the jerks and other strange phenomena settled, as
they said, the matter. Some of them fully believing and
declaring all these things were lying hypocrisies, would
venture forth and go to the meetings. O! they would
show it was all pretence, they could not be made to jerk
nor howl nor bark. But in not a few instances of just
such experiments these gainsaying individuals would
suddenly find themselves jerking, dancing, barking, roll
ing, or something, else unacconntable, notwithstanding

396 LEGENDS OF THE
their previous incredulity and sedulous desire and exer
tions to avoid it, uttering the most pitiable groans and
horrible shrieks. While others would at the same time
be seen to fall into excess of joy, expressed in every fea
ture, and exhibiting faces radiant, with felicity and delight.
Truly these things were marvellous, yet were certainly
realities. Many conjectures and speculations were given then and
now are indulged as to the cause. But we are still with
out having among them all any that approach, even
plausibility. But suppose we admit with these Calvinis
tic railers, that these strange accompaniments of those
revival meetings, camp-meetings, and all others, were of
Satanic influence or origin, are they justified in denounc
ing the thousands of genuine conversions that attended
them as satanic also ? That, it seems to us, would be
unreasonable and unjust. Yet this those brethren con
tinue to do to this day. 0! tempora — 0! mores. O!
wonderful is the force of custom and prejudice for injus
tice and evil.
They say- when the people came together in those days
for the worship of God, Satan came also. Well, what of
that ? Was not that the case in patriarchal times — in the
days of Job ? Read again the quotations at the head of
this chapter. And Satan still almost visibly pervades
the earth. At least, his foot-prints are everywhere visi
ble. Does he not even, sometimes, when our Calvinistic
brethren assemble before the Lord, appear also ?
But not to wander farther from what properly belongs
to our narrative, it is right for us now to state, that those
of our Presbyterian friends who believed the doctrines
preached in the revival and in the utility of camp-meet
ings, and continued, as honest men, professing to be gov
erned by the Bible, to preach and teach them, till by the
church to which they belonged in Kentucky and Tennes
see, they were robbed of all quiet, and many of them ex
communicated, were compelled to form themselves into a

WAB OF INDEPENDENCE. 397
separate church organization, and call themselves the
Cumberland Presbyterian Church.
They and their successors are now going on, believing
and preaching the same true and scriptural doctrines of
the " direct witness of the spirit" to those who are born
of God, and the " refreshings from the presence of the
Lord " — " building themselves up in their most holy
faith, praying in the Holy Ghost," — till now the year of
our Lord 1855, the church so formed by that mere hand
ful of men, smitten from the self styled orthodox church,
has multiplied and spread out through the great valley of
the Mississippi, as well as through many of the older
States, till it almost equals the old organization in num
ber of communicants.
".Quench not the spirit." " Mind not high things, but
condescend to men of low estate." "Be not wise in your
own conceit." "He that believeth on the Son of God
hath the witness in himself." " If any man have not the
spirit of Christ, he is none of His." These are the doc
trines which gave them, under God, their success in win
ning souls to Christ, and these are the doctrines that
must eventually conquer the world. "Ah, whal? hath
God wrought!"