i-AI F IJNIVERMf ( I IBRARi- 3 9002 06462 0868 s.^ Ct^^. ^il /^' away ; but left a letter for her and another for his friend,. Robert S. Montcrief, informing him of the fact that he had just sailed for the American shore ; that he had done so because he could not bear the shame of bankruptcy and poverty at home ; and that his keys, books and papers of every description would be found in such a place. This was exceed ingly unfortunate ; for, as they informed him after'^ wards, if he had remained and settled up his business 300 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. himself, they would not have lost more than one shilling in the pound, or one twentieth of the whole, which, they said, they would have borne without a murmur ; but having gone off without leaving his property in the care of any one, or duly authorizing any of his friends to act for him, so much of it was lost by the peculations of servants, the costs of legal processes and in various ways, that in the final settlement, they did not realize more than one third of the amount. By this step, however, he did not lose the confi dence of his friends ; and his creditors imputed it to his having too high a sense of honor, or too great a sensitiveness in regard to his character. The follow ing extract from a letter addressed to him by Robert S. Montcrief, a merchant of Edinburgh, and the gen tleman with whom he had first been engaged in busi ness, and now one of his creditors, bears an explicit and honorable testimony to his character. It is dated, Edinburgh, July 2d, 1773 ; and after such matters and things as are usually most prominent in letters of friendship, he says, " I should be happy to hear that you are successful in business. You will derive some advantage from past experience, and learn from that not to be too sanguine in your expectations, nor too forward in depending upon the honesty of others. There never was a time that called for more caution and circumspection than the present. I sincerely wish you may meet with many of as honest principles as yourself; for, notwithstanding all that has passed, I never could call in question your integrity. I had COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 301 great confidence in it while we used to do business together. I have not changed my opinion of your heart, though I regret your too great sensibility and sense of honor, whereby, I am persuaded, you were led into the step you took." In his answer to the above letter, dated Newport, R. I., Nov. 12th, 1772, Colonel Balfour, after expressing his gratification at receiving such a kind and consoling letter from one who had sustained a considerable loss by his failure, says, " It gave me the greatest sorrow to hear of the bad effects my leaving the country has had upon the interests of my friends. I had too little experience in business to know or foresee the bad consequences of such a step, and too little firmness of mind to sup port the disgrace of a failure, perhaps the reproaches of friends, and all the melancholy consequences of poverty and dependence. This weakness, which your humanity and friendship are pleased to soften with the soothing appellations of too great a sensibility and a high sense of honor, was the chief cause of my flight. Indeeid, my dear friend, the greatest conso lation, and comfort I have under all the revolutions of fortune, is in the reflection that I never had, have not, and, I hope in God, never shall have the smallest disposition to any thing that is in the least dishonest, or even dishonorable." All his letters, written about ^his time, to his wife, his father, and others, with whom he had been in habits of intimacy, are in the same strain; and it appears to have been his earnest desire, if he could be 26 - . ¦ 302 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. successful in business, to make up all the losses which his creditors and friends had sustained by his failure. This was his sole object in coming to America, and he appears to have made every possible exertion for the accomplishment of his purpose. His father, who was also a merchant in Edinburgh, and who ap pears, from all his letters to his son, to have been a man of piety and of sound discretion, thus commences a letter to him, dated, Edinburgh, Feb. 20th, 1773, "Dear Andrew: — I received your very agreeable letter, which gave me a great deal of comfort, as I see much of God's good providence in it, for which we ought to be thankful. As it is plain it was not by your own conduct or imprudence it happened, so I hope you will ascribe the praise to him." A high- minded young Scotchman, raised in affluence, and honorably related, both by blood and affinity, could not brook the idea of a failure in business, and the untold evils to which it would subject him — the scorn of enemies, the mortification of friends, and the taunts and sneers of rivals. To escape from it, all at once, in the agonized state of his feelings, and without ever thinking of the consequences to himself, or anybody else, he abruptly left the country, and sailed for " the land of promise." He sailed from Grenock, in Scotland, May 20th, 1772, in a ship called the Snow George, and arrived at Boston on the 18th of July, intending to go by water, via Philadelphia, to Charleston, in South Caro lina, where his brother, John Balfour, was already engaged in business; but while waiting for a vessel COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 303 to sail, he accidentally became acquainted with a man by the name of John Thompson, a merchant in the city of New York, who had gone to Boston in his gig, with a single horse, and having transacted his busi ness, was now ready to return. Being desirous of company, and having met with a countryman, an ad venturer like himself, with whom he professed to be well pleased, he readily offered him a seat in his gig, and the offer was as readily accepted. Thompson was from the south of Scotland, and had been only a few years in America. Being a man of liberal edu cation, Balfour says, he was very companionable and prepossessing in his manners, a member of the Pres byterian church, strictly moral in his deportment, and very popular in New York. As they were from the same country, they contracted a great intimacy and friendship as travelling companions; and, on their arrival in New York, he in-vited Balfour to stay with him at his boarding house until his trunks should ar rive, which, being too heavy to bring with them, he had left in Boston to be sent round by water. During this time, which was thirteen days, they became such boon companions, that Thompson pro posed to take him in as a partner, and to give him a full third of the profits, provided he would put in what little money he had, and give his whole attention to the business. The partnership was soon formed, and they commenced business with flattering pros pects. Thompson was, at this time, a young man, or a single man ; but soon after married a Miss Bobbins, the daughter of a clergyman in Connect!- 304 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. cut. He stood high in the public confidence, and was doing an extensive business, having three coun try stores and a ship or two, at sea. By submitting his bonds, book accounts, &c., to Balfour's inspec tion, he made him believe that he had a clear capital of five thousand pounds sterling; and that there were no claims against him which were diie, or which he could not promptly meet. Balfour, with his characteristic frankness and honesty of intention, told him at once that he had been unfortunate in business, and that he had no capital, except two hundred pounds, or about a thousand dollars, which he had brought with him to be prepared for any emergency that might arise, or, for any casualty that might befall him in a strange land. From such a beginning he had high expectations of success, and there was apparently no ground for apprehension. For a time their mutual friendship and confidence were unimpaired; and they seemed to be doing a safe and profitable business. In the midst of it, however, he received the sad intelligence that his wife, whom he had left behind, with an infant at the breast, and who had gone to live with her brother,' Robert McCormick, at Preston Pans, had died of in flammatory fever, June 17th, 1773 ; and, while the object of his fondest affection, for whose welfare he had been most solicitous, was now taken away, he felt aU the bitterness of separation. In about a year after, he married Miss EUzabeth Dayton, of Newport, in Rhode Island, a most estimable young lady, and of a very respectable family. By her he had two COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 305 children, a daughter whom he named Margaret, for his mother and sister; and a son whom he called Andrew, for himself and his father. As Thompson had the most experience in this line of business, and was regarded by Balfour as owning the principal part of the stock, he either assumed the management, or it was conceded to him, as a matter of courtesy, and with full confidence in his integrity ; but within eighteen months after the partnership was formed, he exploded and became insolvent to a considerable amount. Although Colonel Balfour, had discernment enough to see that a storm was coming, before it burst upon them, and in time to secure the greater part of what was due to him, yet, he sustained a considerable loss. What little money he advanced was, at his own request, so fixed that Thompson could, in no event, be liable for his debts; and, at Thompson's suggestion, was so secured that his creditors could not take it from him, during the two or three years, for which the co-partnership was formed. Of course, . he was not in strict justice bound for Thompson's debts, and would not in law, be held liable to his creditors. The firm was in fact, a mere nominal one; and the creditors, though much chagrined at their loss, acquitted Balfour of any fraudulent or dishonest conduct. In a letter written to his father on this subject, and dated Newport, R. I., January 3d, 1775, he says, " I have got it from under the hand of my creditors, that I have behaved in an honest and honorable manner towards them. It 26* 306 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. gives me particular satisfaction that, disposed as they were to use me with rigor and severity, I have not afforded them the least opportunity to refuse me an honorable testimony to my character." We feel tempted here, to give an extract from a letter of his pious old father, written when he first heard of these disasters ; and we give it as illustra tive of the old man's Christian character, and conse quently, of the religlolis instruction and training, which we suppose he had given to his children. It is dated — Edinburgh, Oct. 20th, 1774. " My dear Andrew — I received your very melan choly letter of the 23d of May, and we all sincerely condole and sympathise with you, and hope you will bear your afflictions patiently, as from the hand of a good and merciful God, who afflicts us only for our good ; and believe in our Lord and Saviour, and pray for the forgiveness of your sins in, and through his merits and sufferings for us. Then I hope God will make the remaining part of your life, as prosperous as the by-past part of it has been troublesome, (full of trouble,) but though our whole life were troublesome, we ought not to repine, as we are promised eternal' happiness, when we perform our duties sincerely, and' repent of our sins. Read the first and last chapters of Jbb ; and I hope you will observe the many com forts you have, of which he was deprived. You have good health, friends who sincerely condole with, and pity you, and a wife who sympathises with you — so you have no reason to despair of God's goodness. COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 307 Read also the 15th chapter of the first Epistle to the Corinthrans, which gives a description of the Deity, and the history of our Saviour ; and especially the 13th chapter of John's Gospel to the end of the book." It is probable that he had received a liberal educa tion, or, at least, that he had a good knowledge of the Latin and Greek classics, and with the common branches of science ; for a man could hardly be raised in such a city as Edinburgh, and in the circle of society to which he belonged, without some such education ; for otherwise he could not maintain his standing, or feel hipiself on a par with his associates. It is known that Balfour was a good French scholar ; and it is therefore presumable that he was not defi cient in other things. The Hon. Augustine H. Shephard, our late representative in Congress, has informed me, that, when Colonel Balfour was in the legislature, in the spring of 1780, a communication was received by that body, which was written in French, and that he was the only man there who could give it a translation. He read it off readily and with great correctness. Mr. Shephard had this fact from his father, Jacob Shephard, who was also a prominent Whig, and held different offices of pub lic trust, during the war. Jacob Shephard and Colonel Balfour lived within two or three miles of each other, and were very intimate. He said Bal four had a very valuable library, for that day, and for a man who was nCt engaged in any of the learned professions. He always spoke of Balfour in terms of the highest respect, as a man who showed a high 308 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. sense of honor in every thing, very intelligent, very patriotic, and had the entire respect and confidence of the community, so far as he was known. If a man's family and most intimate friends can appreciate his character better than any other, and if their regard for him, while living, and their veneration for his memory, when dead, are the best evidences of his worth, then Colonel Balfour ought not to be for gotten ; for, as will be shown hereafter, there were few men, of that day, whose nearest friends and most intimate acquaintances were more warmly at tached to them, while they lived, or manifested a deeper sorrow for their death. Whether he ever made a profession of religion, or was in communion with the church, is not known ; but the early religious instruction which he had received, and the influence of the Christian example which had been set him by his pious parents, had, at least, the effect of making him moral, conscientious and upright in all his transactions and intercourse with society. There is now before me a large bundle of letters, a family correspondence kept up for a num ber of years, and consisting partly of letters written by hiin to men with whom he had been engaged in business, as well as to his most intimate and confi dential friends ; partly of letters from men who had sustained considerable loss by his failures ; and partly of letters from friends who lived at a great distance from each other, and who spoke of him in all the frankness usual in such correspondence ; but I have not seen the least suspicion expressed in COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 309 regard to his integrity or honesty of purpose. From all I can learn, here and elsewhere, he was a man of sound principles and of enlightened views, of patri otic feelings, of an enterprising chara|Cter, of a fear less spirit and of strict fidelity to whatever trust was reposed in' him, whether by his fellow-citizens or by his friends in the ordinary transactions of life. As soon as the difficulties arising out of his con nection with Thompson were adjusted, he commenced business for himself, in a village called Enfield, on the Connecticut river, about the latter end of the year 1774, and continued there between two and three years. What he saved from the failure of Thompson and what he got with his wife, would have enabled him, in quiet and prosperous times, to do a respect able business, or one which would have enabled him to support his family in decency and comfort ; but, at that time, the" north was the theatre of war, and every thing was in confusion. The implements of husbandry, if not actually beaten into swords and instruments of death, were nearly laid aside as use less for want of time and opportunity to use them ; foreign trade, if not entirely cut off by the effects of the enemy, was reduced to almost nothing ; and men, who had families to be provided for, were often com pelled to change their business and resort to any honest occupation that would afford them a bare subsistance, or leave those who were most dear to them and who had the strongest claims on their ex ertions, to take care of themselves. i About the beginning of 1777, he went to Charles- 310 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. ton, in South Carolina, where his brother John had been for some years engaged in a profitable busi ness ; and there were several things which now induced him to visit the south. The north being the seat of war, business of every kind was at a stand ; manufactures had not yet commenced ; for eign commerce was cut off; and merchandising, the occupation in which he had hitherto been engaged, was out of the question ; but the south, being com paratively tranquil, presented a better prospect of providing for a family. In addition to these consi derations, his maiden sister, Margaret, and his little daughter, Tibby, the only child he had by the wife of his youth, were there, and had been for a year or more. It was natural that he should wish to see them both, but especially his daughter; and leaving his wife and her two children in the care of her friends until he could make some comfortable or safe arrangement for them in the south, he travelled the whole or most of the way to Charleston by land. His brother, John Balfour, was a royalist; but it does not appear that he had taken any active or pro minent part in the contest. As I infer from some incidental remarks or allusions, in the letters now before me, Andrew was, from the first, a Whig in principle and feeling; but, like many others who wavered, or rather remained inactive for a time, not from any hesitancy in regard to the principle, but from the condition of their families, which seemed to have, for the time being, an imperious claim on their attention, he became more decided and active as the struggle advanced. COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 311 Whether he took any part in the civil or military operations of the north, is not known, but his main object in coming south was evidently to make better provision for his family ; and there seemed to be a necessity for doing something. Not only were the difficulties then great, but they were every day increasing ; and to show the distressed condition of the country soon after he left, it may not be amiss, in passing, to notice the great scarcity and high prices of provisions, during the next year. In a letter written to him by his wife, and dated South Kingston, R. I., Oct. 23d, 1778, she tells him that corn was then selling at five and six dollars per bushel ; in another, dated Feb. 13th, 1779, she says it was then selling at ten dollars, and in another dated the 1st of June, following, it was selling at twenty to thirty dollars per bushel, which was equivalent to saying that it was not to be had at all ; and although she had procured enough for her family in good time, many poor families had to subsist almost entirely with out bread. Whether this extreme scarcity was owing to the drought or the ravages of war, is not stated — probably to both ; but from the enormous prices of bread stuffs, and the extreme severity of the winter, which she says was greater than usual, the sufferings of all classes, except the most provident and fore handed, must have been immense. The South being free from war and comparatively tranquil, the two brothers, though belonging to opposite parties in the great contest which was going on for freedom and Independence, might 312 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. have prosecuted their business in harmony together, as was often done by brothers similarly situated and with good success; but no such partnership was formed by them and perhaps -was not designed. The object of Colonel Balfour in going to Charleston was part to pay his. brother a visit, having never seen him since they came to America ; but mainly to see his daughter and take her under his own care, for we find him soon after at Georgetown, or in the vicinity of it, engaged in making salt. As none of his letters to his wife and other friends, during this period, have been preserved, or if they have it is not known by whom, we gather these facts from the incidental allusions which she makes in her answers to what he had written. Thus in a letter, dated March 31st, 1778, she says, "I rejoice at your success in making salt, though I am not very san guine in my expectations ; for I have resolved not to be disappointed with respect to riches." Under what circumstances he engaged in this business and with what results, I have not learned, but probably he and some other public spirited and enterprizing gentlemen, of that region, had been induced to undertake it by the pressing wants of the country and by the encouragement which the legislative authorities had repeatedly given. However this may have been, either they did not succeed as they expected, or else a supply was obtained from some other source ; for we find him, in a little time, at Chevau, to which place his brother John also removed either in company with him or soon after, and re- COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 318 mained there until his death. How long the Colonel remained at Chevau we know not; for there are long intervals between the letters of his wife, at least so far as they have been preserved. Many letters were written by him and as many by her which were never received. At this period, the transmission of letters or papers of any description especially to such a distance, was a very uncertain business, sometimes the mail was captured by the enemy, and often from carelessness or some other cause, letters were lost by the way, so that it was frequently months and even a year or two, before a communication sent either way, though not lost by violence or carelessness, arrived at the place of its destination. Of this she complained bitterly, and adopted the expedient of sending to some man who was high in office, or so distinguished in other ways, that his name would command respect : — sometimes they were sent to the care of Mr. Marshall in Wachovia, or the Moravian settlement ; sometimes to the care of Gover nor Nash ; sometimes enclosed in a letter to Governor Nash from Dr. Stiles, President of Yale college. The first notice we have of Colonel Balfour, in North Carolina, is in a letter to his wife, dated Salisbury, N. C, July, 1778, in which he tells her that he was sometimes there, and sometimes at his plantation ; but that he intended to remove, in a short time, to the plantation. He did remove to it, and with the intention of making such improvements, 27 ^ 314 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. as would render it a jcomfortable home for his family. It ultimately became their residence; but the sovereign Disposer of all things, did not permit him to enjoy it with them. At this time, he had a considerable quantity of land in this state, some in the neighborhood of Cheraw, and a number of ser vants. Had he lived, they would all have been in dependent in their circumstances, and happy in the enjoyment of their social comforts and relations. The plantation to which, we suppose, he refers, in the above letter, was one which he had recently, bought on the south side of Randolph county, at the head waters of Little river or Uwhar, and probably adjoining or near to a tract of land, belonging to his father. The old man had either taken this land to secure a debt, or, what is more likely, had purchased it some years before, from the heirs of Lord Gran ville, as men in the older states, have been ever since the Independence of the country was obtained, in the habit of buying lands in the far west on speculation, or as a settlement for their children at a future day. It seems that he had either put the title deeds of this land, into the hands of Andrew, before he left Scotland, or had sent them to him after he came to America ; for in a letter written to him, and dated Edinburgh, Feb. 20th, 1773, he mentions these papers and tells him what to do with them. He directs him to send them back by his brother John, who was expected shortly to pay a visit to his friends in Scotland ; and he would then fix the land for him, so that in case of any misfortune, his credi- COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 315 tors could not take it from him, by which we suppose, he meant that he would secure it to his children. It appears that the original Deed called for ten hundred and fifty acres ; but when it came to be re- surveyed, according to the corners and limits desig nated, it was found to contain nineteen hundred acres. Thus, Mrs. Balfour, in a letter to her husband, dated May 4th, 1779, says, " I need not tell you that JI am glad you are so far successful as to be able to purchase so much land. * * * * What an agreeable disappointment to find 1900 instead of 1050 acres in the old plantation I" By " the old plantation," we presume she meant the plantation or tract which had belonged to the old man, and had now been made over to her husband, or to his chil dren; but be this as it may, his descendants have been living on it ever since, and it is still owned and occupied by the third generation. There is some thing quite remarkable in the whole history of this affair, as will appear in the sequel ; but any further details here would only be anticipating what will be more appropriate in another place, and cause an irksome or useless repetition. In this year, 1779, he wrote to his wife that he would be ready, in a short time, to go for her, and bring her to her new home in this country. When replying to this, in a letter already referred to, she says, " It is impossible for me to express the joy I feel at hearing that you are well, and that you have fixed upon a time when you' will visit your family. I earnestly pray that nothing may happen to disap- 316 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. point us. After an absence of more than two years and a half, to meet will be a pleasure beyond the power of words to express. * * * * j ]ja,ve always understood that to be a sickly country, and have been anxious on account of your health ever since you went there. I have been reading the his tory of the European settlements in America, and the author recommended it, not only as one of the most pleasant, but one of the most healthy places in the world ; from which I am led to think that the fact of the inhabitants being sickly is owing to their high living ; but, be this as it may, I shall never have an objection to living there, or any where else that may be most agreeable to your circumstances." The anticipations which were now so flattering, and so fondly indulged, were never realized, and for several reasons, some of which were quite as sad as they were imperative. During this year, Randolph county was formed, and he was chosen as one of the first representatives. This is noticed in a letter from his wife, and his name stands on the records of the State as a member of the Assembly for 1780. Another reason was, that before the adjournment of the Assembly, orvery soon after, the British army had taken Charleston, and were advancing through South Carolina toward this State ; and it was not deemed expedient to remove his family here, when every thing seemed to indicate an approaching time of great and protracted distress, while the Eastern States were now comparatively tranquil. When the country of his adoption was COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 317 thus invaded, or threatened with invasion, he felt it his duty to share all their dangers with his fellow- citizens, and sacrifice his life, if need he, in the com mon cause. He Was appointed colonel : and, with a heroic and magnanimous spirit, engaged in the mili tary operations of the day ; but to what extent is not known. In view of such perils and sufferings through out the entire south, as he would necessarily bg much from home, and his life would be all the time exposed to the most imminent dangers, he deemed it best to let his wife and children remain, for the present, with their friends in Rhode Island, and leave to Providence the ordering of their lot for the future. That he determined to risk his life in the military defence of the country, -we are informed by a letter from Mrs. Balfour, dated June 1st, 1779, and written in answer to one from him. After noticing some other things in his letter, she says, "I have been anxious about the enemy's being in Georgia ever since I heard they were there ; but your resolution of exposing yourself raises a thousand melancholy thoughts. I can only say, I am unhappy and shall be so until I see you." From this I would infer that he went, or at least that he intended going with the unfortunate expedition to Georgia, under the command of General Ashe ; but of this we have no certain information. How he was employed, or what" he accomplished, during this period, we have no means of knowing; for no letters could pass between him and his family in the north ; but he must have taken an active and prominent part in the cause ; for he 27* 318 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. had become very obnoxious to the Tories. In the fall of 1780, he and Jacob Shephard, father of the Hon. Augustine H. Shephard, who was also a promi nent Whig, were captured by a party of Tories, from the Pedee, under the command of Colonel Coulson, who were carrying them as prisoners to the British at Cheraw, but were attacked by Captain Childs, from Montgomery, who completely dispersed them, and set their prisoners at liberty to return home. On their return, Shephard left the neighborhood and went into one of more security, but Balfour re mained and met an untimely fate. In the narrative of Judge Murphy, furnished for the University Maga zine, by Governor Swain, we >have the following ac count of this most barbarous and disgraceful affair. " In one of his predatory and murderous excursions, he (Fanning) went to the house of Andrew Balfour, which he had plundered three years before. Stephen Cole, one of Balfour's neighbors, hearing of his approach and apprised of his intentions, rode at full speed to Balfour's house and gave him notice of the danger that threatened him. Balfour had scarcely stepped out of his house before he saw Fanning gallop ing up. He ran, but one of Fanning's party, named Absalom Autry, fired at him with his rifle and broke his arm. He returned to the house and entered it, and his daughter and sister clung to him in despair. Fanning and his men immediately entered and tore away the women, threw them on the floor and held them under their feet till they shot Balfour. He fell on the floor, and Fanning taking a pistol, shot him COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 319 through the head." These are the most important facts in the case ; but we have the details more fully and minutely given in letters written soon after by his sister and others, who, being j)resent at the time, and treated with most barbarous cruelty, felt what they wrote. As Col. Balfour was the most prominent and influ ential man in that region. Fanning, in this murderous excursion up the river, made him the first victim, and accompanied the act with almost every degree of barbarity that was possible. It was on Sabbath morning, March 10th, 1782; when it might have been expected that the sacredness of the day would have had at least, some mitigating infiuence on the ferocity of these banditti ; but we will let Miss Mar garet Balfour give the accoiint of this transaction in her own language. It was some months, however, before her feelings were sufficiently composed and tranquil to write an account of a scene so distressing, and in the meantime, Mrs. Balfour, who, from all her letters, appears to have been a most affectionate and devoted wife, had received" intelligence of the fact by another hand. Mr. Marshall, of Salem, N. C, had communicated a notice of Colonel Balfour's death to his friend, the Rev. Mr. Russmeyer, in Newport, where she lived, and he had made it known to her. Owing to the difficulty of transmitting letters, this was a little over two months after the event ; and she immediately wrote to Miss Margaret for a par ticular account of the whole affair. , Her letter, from 320 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. which the reader will, no doubt, be pleased to see a short extract, is dated Newport, B. I., May 22d, 1782. "My dear Peggy: With the utmost grief and sorrow of heart, I sit down to write to you, having, eight days ago, heard the unhappy news of my dear husband's death. I had the day before, received two very affectionate letters from him, which raised my hope to a height to which I had long been a stranger. I had flattered myself that, with my dear little ones, I should, in a short time, be happy under the protection and guidance of the best of husbands and fathers. My fond imagina tion had painted an addition of happiness in the society of an affectionate sister who, though personally un known to me, I had ever thought upon with love and esteem, and of my dear Tibby, to whom I had con sidered myself as under particular obligations of friendship ; but I was soon roused from these pleasing thoughts by the most distressing account of his being killed by a company of villains in his own house. My dear Peggy, it is not in the power of language to express what I feel on the present occasion, and I shall not attempt it. It is some consolation that there is a way open through which I may hope to hear from you, and I embrace this, the first opportu nity of entreating you not to delay writing, and let me know every thing which you think can afford con solation. I wish to know the particulars of your brother's death ; and, 0, I wish to know more than COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 321 it is possible for me to express in my present distress." In reply to this sorrowful request. Miss Margaret wrote a letter, of which we shall give the greater part, because it contains a fuller and more authentic account of Colonel Balfour's murder, and of the treatment which she and little Tibby received from these savages, than can be got elsewhere ; because it gives an affecting view of the disorder, recklessness and heart-rending distress which then prevailed in the country, for this was one of the almost numberless cases of a similar kind, and differing from it only a little in degree, and because the writer was not only an eye-witness, but a deep sufferer in the scenes which she describes. When we read such accounts, it seems difficult to say whether the men or the female portion of the community were the greatest sufferers ; for the revengeful and infuriated spirit, which reigns in^ state of civil war, has very little respect for age or sex ; but it might not be amiss for the present and all coming generations, while living at their ease and enjoying all the luxuries which wealth and ingenuity can furnish, to remember the toils and privations, perils and sufferings, which were the price of our liberties and all our blessings. It is neither duty nor policy to forget the lessons of the past; but we return to the letter ; it is dated 822 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. Swearing Creek, Sept. 2Mh, 1782. My Dear Eliza, I have just now received your very kind but sor rowful letter, dated May 22d; and it gives me a great deal of both pleasure and pain. I am ex tremely happy to hear from you ; but as sorry, that it is on such a melancholy subject. You desire me to give you a particular account of your husband's death. My Dear Eliza, imposes on ine a hard task ; for the very thought of it throws me into such nerv ous fits, that it is with the greatest difficulty, I can hold the pen. Besides, I have not yet quit the bed of a long and dangerous fever, occasioned, I believe, by grief and vexation. However, to show that I really love you ; I will comply with your request, but in as few words as possible. On the 10th of March, about twenty-five armed Ruffians came to the house with the intention to kill my brother. — Tibby and I endeavored to prevent them ; but it was all in vain. The wretches cut and bruised us both a great deal, and dragged us from the dear man then before our eyes. The worthless, base, horrible Fanning shot a bullet into his head, which soon put a period to the life of the best of men, and the most affectionate and dutiful husband, father, son and brother. The sight was so shocking, that it is im possible for tongue to express any thing like our feelings ; but the barbarians, not in the least touched with our anguish, drove us out of the house, and took every thing that they could carry off except the negroes who happened to be all from home at the COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 323 time. It being Sunday, never were creatures in more distress. We were left in a strange country, naked, without money, and, what was a thousand times worse, we had lost forever a near and dear relation. What added to our affliction, was the thought of his poor, helpless family left destitute, and it was not in our power to assist them. I wish his two families were united together. We would be a, mutual help and comfort to each other ; but whether it would be best that you should come to us, or that we should go to you, is out of my power to determine 'til I hear from you. Until then, I shall hire out my negroes, and go to Salisbury, where we intend to try the milliner's business. If there is good encouragement for that business with you, please let me know it, as soon as possible. If there' is not, I beg you will come to us; and while I have a sixpence, I will share it with you. We are at pre sent about ten miles from Salisbury, at Mr. James McCay's, where we have made a crop of corn. We remained only a few days on our own plantation, after the dreadful disaster, having been informed that Fanning was coming to burn the house and take the negroes. I will write you soon again, and let you know how we succeed in business, and I pray you will write immediately. Let me know how you are and whether you will come out or not. If you will not come to us, I will endeavor to sell out and go to you ; for I cannot be happy, 'til I see my dear An drew's beloved wife and little innocent children, of whom I have often heard him speak with a gi-eat deal 324 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. of pleasure. I had a letter from my brother John's widow, who is at Charleston. It informs me of my father's death ; and that his will remains in the same way it was when I left home. As it will be of some advantage to us ; I propose going home as soon as circumstances will permit. Tibby joins me in love and compliments to you, and the dear little remains of our besfr friend. She will write you by the first opportunity. I am, my dear Eliza, with great sincerity your affectionate and loving, but distressed sister, Margaret Balfour. The following letter from Major Tatom to Go vernor Burke, is both interesting and reliable ; it is appropriate in connexion with the above. It is copied from the communication of Governor Swain to the University Magazine, for March, 1853 ; and it con firms, not only the main facts respecting the paurder of Colonel Balfour, but what we have said about the general state of things in that part of the country, during the period in which the South was the theatre of war. Major Tatom, it appears, was a member of the House of Commons, from Hillsboro', about the year 1802 ; and, having died there, while a member, he was buried in the cemetery of the late Comptroller Goodwin, in the Raleigh grave yard. The letter is dated, Hillsboro', March 20th, 1782. Sir :— On Sunday the 11th inst., Col. Balfour, of Randolph, was murdered in the most inhuman man- COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 3l 5 ner, by Fanning and his party, also, a Captain Bry ant and a Mr. King were murdered in the night of the same day, by them. Colonel Collier's and two other houses were burned by the same party. Col. Balfour's sister and daughter, and several other women, were wounded and abused in a barbarous manner. These, sir, are facts. I was at that lime in Ran dolph — saw the Tories and some of their cruelties. Without a speedy relief, the good people of that county must leave their habitations, and seek refuge in some other place. I am, sir, your o'bt serv't, A. Tatom; It is not strange that his friends, especially his widow and sister, should wish to have such a mon ster as Fanning, and all his accomplices, brought to punishment ; and we give an extract from another letter of Miss Margaret, to her sister-in-law, as illus trative of the feelings that existed, and of the course of conduct pursued at that period of civil confiict. In a letter to Mrs. Balfour, dated June 6th, 1783, a little more than a year after the death of her brother, she sa,ys : " Some time last February, hav ing been informed that my horse was at one Major Gholson's, I got Mr. John McCoy with me, and we went to the Major's, where we found the horse, but in such a poor condition, that it was with great diffi culty we got him home. However, he is now so much recruited, that he is fit for a little service. 28 326 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. When I was after the horse, I heard that one of Fanning's men was in Hillsboro' jail ; and, as the court commenced on the 1st of April, I went to Hills boro', and witnessed against him. The crime was proved so plainly, that not one lawyer spoke a word in his favor, though he had three of them employed. My story was so affecting, that the court was willing to give me tfvery satisfaction in their power ; and in order to do this, they broke a little through the usual course, for they had the villain tried, con demned and hung, all in the space of the court. While the judge was giving the jury their charge, I heard several gentlemen of my brother's acquaintance wishing to God the jury would not bring him in guilty, that they might have the pleasure of putting the rascal to death with their own hands ; and if the jury had not brought him in guilty, I am sure they would have killed the wretch before he had got out of the house. If it is an inexpressible happiness for one to know, that his dear friends are much beloved, we have that happiness ; for I believe, that there has not a man fallen since the beginning of the troubles, who was more sincerely and generally lamented, than our dear Andrew. My brother gave the rights of the land that is in the neighborhood of Georgetown to Mr. Randolph Hays, a gentleman who lives in that town, to dispose of it ; but he could not do it at that time. According to the last accounts, my brother had of him, he was a prisoner in Charleston; but since my brother's COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 327 death, I have seen General Harrington, who tells me that Mr. Hays is now in Georgetown. My dear Eliza, I am infinitely obliged to you, and I sincerely thank you for your kind and friendly ad vice. I shall use every method in my power to drive the horrid scene from my thoughts, as my life may be of some service, both to my dear Andrew's family, and to the avenging of his innocent blood. I have not had the pleasure of the letter you wrote in October. The distance between Salisbury and the plantation, is 42 miles, and 30 between Salisbury and Salem. I am, my dear Eliza, your sincere friend, and affec tionate sister. Margaret Baleour. Miss Balfour, in the letter just quoted, does not give the name of the man against whom she witnessed ; but we have it in the following extract from the re cords of the court at which she attended as a witness. We give the indictment as drawn up by Alfred Moore, the Attorney General ; and then the simple state ment that a " true bill " was found. At the same court, some half a dozen others were tried and con demned, some of them for " high treason" and others for horse stealing ; but to notice them here would be foreign from my purpose. 328 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. CI. , r AT xi, n T "1 Superior Court of Law State of Nor A Carolina I ^^j Equity, April Hillsboro District. J Term, 1783. The jurors for the State, upon their oath, present that David Fanning, late of the County of Chatham, yeoman, and Frederick Smith, late of the county of Cumberland, yeoman, not having the fear of God in their hearts, but being moved and seduced by the insti gation of the devil, on the ninth day of March, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty-two, and in the sixth year of American Inde pendence, with force and arms, in the county of Ran dolph, in the District of Hillsboro', in. and upon one Andrew Balfour, in the peace of God, and the said then and there being, feloniously, wilfully and of their malice aforethought, did make an assault,-and that the said David Fanning, a certain pistol of the value of five shillings sterling, then and there charged with gunpowder and one leaden bullet, which pistol, he, the said David, in his right hand then and there had and held, to, against, and upon the said Andrew Balfour, then and there feloniously, wilfully, and of his malice aforethought, did shoot and discharge, and that the said David Fanning, with the leaden bullet aforesaid, out of the pistol aforesaid, then and there, by force of the gunpowder, shot and sent forth as aforesaid, the aforesaid Andrew Balfour, in and upon the head of him the said Andrew, then and there with the leaden bullet aforesaid, out of the pistol aforesaid, by the said David Fanning so as aforesaid COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 329 shot, discharged and sent forth, feloniously, wilfully, and of his malice aforethought, did strike, penetrate, and wound, giving to the said Andrew Balfour, then and there, with the leaden bullet aforesaid, so as aforesaid shot, discharged and sent forth out of the pistol aforesaid, by the said David, in and upon the head of him the said Andrew, one mortal wound of the depth of four inches and of the breadth of half an inch, of which said mortal wound, the aforesaid Andrew Balfour then and there instantly died ; and that the aforesaid Frederick Smith, then and there, feloniously, wilfully, and of his malice aforethought, was present, aiding, helping, abetting, comforting, assisting and maintaining the said David Fanning, the felony and murder aforesaid, in manner and form aforesaid, to do and commit, and so the jurors upon their oath aforesaid, do say, that the said David Fanning and Frederick Smith, the said Andrew Bal four, then and there in manner and form aforesaid, fe loniously, wilfully, and of their malice aforethought, did kill and murder against the peace and dignity of the said State. Alfred Moore, Att'y Gen'l. State 1 vs. y Indictment Murder. Fred'k Smith. J Hillsboro' Sup'r Court, April Term, 1783. Margaret Balfour, 1 Witnesses. Stephen Cole. J Sworn and sent. A True Bill. P. Henderson, Clerk. John Hogan, Foreman. 28* 330 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. As the letters of Miss Balfour, though written with great simplicity, and in the freedom and confi dence of private correspondence, describe the deplo rable state of things at that period more feelingly and more vividly than the present writer could pos sibly do, the reader will no doubt be gratified to peruse another from the same hand. Mrs. Balfour had written her two letters, the first of which had not been received, and in the second which had come safe to hand, she had requested her sister-in-law to relate fully the circumstances of her husband's death. It appears that in writing this letter, instead of be ginning with "My dear sister," as usual, she inad vertently began with " My dear Madam," and this will explain an expression in the first of Miss Mar garet's letter. The first part of it relates merely to private matters which are unimportant in themselves ; but as they were the consequence of Col. Balfour's death, we give the letter entire. Salisbury, N. C, August llth, 1783. My dear, DEAR Sister : — Two days ago I re ceived yours of Oct. 13th. By your changing the appellation at the top of your letter, I am afraid you imagine that I am indifferent about my dear brother's family ; but I assure you it is one of my greatest afflictions that I can do so little for them. I wish from my heart you could come home. We might, by our industry, make a decent and independent living. I have had the negroes hired out this sum mer ; but as they sell very high at present, I have COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 331 some thoughts of selling them and going into trade, if you would come and assist us ; for I cannot think that I will ever be happy on the plantation where I have seen so much distress and misery. Besides, I shall take every opportunity to bring to justice all who had any hand in my brother's death. I do not think, therefore, that it would be safe for us to live among their friends, as it is very possible they would do us some private injury. That there was a time when my dear brother was happy in his family, I well know ; and it was his constant and ardent wish, as well as ours, to have his two families united. A great deal of pleasure we promised our selves from this union ; but fortune was pleased to persecute him to the grave. My dear Eliza, I beg you will not insist on all the particulars of your husband's death, as every circum stance strikes me like a clap of thunder. I held his dead head in my bosom till a moment before his death, when the ruffians dragged us from him; and then — 0, Eliza ! I can write no more. I hope and pray that I may see you soon. Then, I will tell you all" for I do not think that it is so dreadful to repeat as to write, though the repetition of it in court shocked me so much that I was sick for three weeks. But whatever may be the consequences, I shall attend all courts, and every place where my presence is necessary, to bring the infernal villains to condign Dunishment. Dear sister, it grieves me to the heart that you should be dependent even on your father. It was very far from my dear brother's endeavor. 332 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. Pray, come to us ; and by the blessing of God and your assistance, we may make a comfortable living, and have it in our power to give the dear children a proper education. Tibby joins in kind compliments to you, to the children and to all friends. Adieu ! my dear Eliza. I remain you affection ate, loving, perplexed sister, Margaret Balfour. Although the writer of the above letters has avoided any detail of circumstances, and has no doubt omitted the most cruel and revolting parts of the tragedy, nothing more need be said. The rest may be safely left to the imagination of the reader. We can hardly conceive a more heart-rending scene than that which was exhibited in the house of Col. Balfour on the day of his murder ; yet it was only one of scores hardly less bloody and atrocious, and often the sur viving sufferers had not the means of temporal sup port and comfort afterwards even, which Col. Bal four's family had. We feel indignant that acts of such savage barbarity should be committed in a civilized and Protestant country ; and not only that, but com mitted so often by the same hands. We seem to be carried back to the days and the countries of Turkish or Popish ferocity , and we can hardly believe that men raised in such a country as ours, so blessed, even at that day, with civilization, intelligence and Christian influence, could deliberately murder a lone man, in his own house and in the presence of his family ; that they could rudely tear away two help- COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 333 less females, a sister and a little daughter only ten years of age, from the embrace of a murdered and expiring father and brother, and that they could drive them from the house in the night and in the cold, blustering winds of March, without sufficient clothing, without a protector, and without the means of subsistence. Then, where was the boasted human ity and generosity of the British nation, when a Bri tish Colonel, holding his commission under the Bri tish government, and acting under the eye of his superiors in office, who must have been aware of his conduct, was permitted to commit such atrocities to the full extent of his power, and knowing that their connivance, if there was nothing more, encouraged him in this course of savage barbarity ? A distin guished poet said of Lord Bacon, that he was " the wisest, greatest, meanest of mankind ;" and the lan guage might, at any time, be applied, with very little qualification, to the British government. In every war we have had with them, they employed blood-thirsty savages to murder, at discretion, help less females and children, stimulating them by the most tempting bribes to the full exertion of their powers; and they not only bribed Fanning by a commission, but, by their connivance, if not by their plaudits, encouraged him and his lawless bandits in their course of savage cruelty. In the above accounts of Colonel Balfour's murder, Mr. Tatom says that there were several females and that they were all treated with great rudeness. Miss Margaret makes no mention of any except herself 334 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. and little Tibby ; but we must recollect that he wrote from report while she was present — an eye witness of the scene and a deep sufferer. In Judge Murphey's narrative already quoted, it is stated that he attempted to escape ; but that one of Fanning's men shot at him with his rifle and broke his arm, when he returned to the house and submitted to his fate. A number of years ago I was told that he could have escaped, but that he heroically determined to stay by his sister and daughter, who had no. other protector, rather than save his own life by flight and leave them to the barborous treatment of his enemies. There Is, however, a tradition in the family, which seems to be reliable and which is confirmed by the concurrent traditions of the neighborhood, that he had, only a short time before, returned home very sick, from some tour of military service and that, although he was convalescing and had so far recov ered that he could be up a little and about in the house, he was unable either to fight or fly. The current tradition of the country a number of years ago, was that he was conflned to bed at the time and was murdered in his bed ; but I believe the other to be the most reliable. Miss Margaret makes no mention either of his sickness or"of his having it in his power to escape, but as she relates, in the intensity of her grief, only the fact of his murder, without going into a minute detail of circumstances, her silence in relation to this matter cannot be regarded as disproving the family tradition; and both may be true. Having been suddenly attacked, and on the -COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 335 Sabbath, when not expecting such a thing, even if he had so far recovered that he could get out of the way, he may have resolved to stand by his sister and little daughter at all hazards ; thinking perhaps that they were not such merciless savages as to murder a sick man, on the day of sacred rest and in the presence of those whose delicacy and dependence, and especially whose entreaties and distresses, even savages often respect. It was natural for him to suppose that men, who had been born and raised under the influence of civilization and Christianity, would so far regard the presence and the entreaties of a sister and a daughter, who had no other friend and no other protector within hundreds of miles, as to spare his life, though they might have taken him prisoner ; but in this, to the shame and tli^ grief of humanity, he was mistaken. There was not an instance during the war, and hardly one in the history of modern warfare, of more savage and shocking barbarity. We feel indignant at the fate of Colonel Hayue; but if there was as much injustice, there was certainly not as much cold blooded cruelty in his case as in that of Colonel Bal four. They were both American officers and of the same rank. They were both put to death, too, by British officers; but in the case of Colonel Hayue there was a semblance of a trial. A pretext was alleged, false and futile as it was ; he had some time allowed to prepare for an exchange of worlds ; his family had abundantly the means of support and they were in the midst of sympathising friends; he was 336 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. not butchered in their presence, nor were they treated with scorn and barbarity ; but it was not so with Colonel Balfour. He was put to death as soon as found, on the Sabbath day, and in his own house. The officer, on whom his life or death depended, be came the executioner and shot him with his own hand. His sister and daughter, the only relatives he had in the country, who ought to have been allowed at least the melancholy privilege of closing his eyes in death, and of performing the last sad offices of friendship, were rudely torn from his dying embrace, then beaten, trampled on, hacked with their swords and driven from the house, pennyless and friendless, strangers in a strange land, without com fortable clothing and without the means of subsist ence, except as they could get it in charity from those who were little better off than themselves; for the miscreants plundered the house of all the money, provisions and everything else they could carry away. But a kind Providence was their protector, and they lived many years, not only to enjoy the bless ings of a free country, and to be, in some measure, compensated for their sufferings, but to contribute their full share to the prosperity and social enjoyment of the community in which they lived. The letters of Miss Margaret, already quoted, tell us what course they took and where they fixed their residence. Other letters give us their history for fifteen or twenty years, and that brings us within the reach of living testimony. The descendants of Colonel Bal- COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 837 four, many of whom are still living in the country, and who are among our most useful and estimable citizens, are a standing proof that man cannot curse whom God has blessed, and that man cannot destroy whom God designs to protect. The reader will be pleased, we have no doubt, to see a letter from this little girl, Tibby, Colonel Bal four's only child by his first wife, who was so rudely treated by the murderers of her father, and turned out to perish amidst the desolation which they had made, a stranger among strangers, fatherless, moth erless, and without a friend within several hundred miles, except a maiden aunt, who, it seems, had been treated with even greater barbarity, and who imme diately had a severe attack of nervous fever, occa sioned by the treatment which she received, and the horrid murder of the best and only friend she had in the country. We give the letter, not because it con tains any additional information respecting her father's death, but because it is a good index to her character. There appears to be something womanly in it, when we consider that she was now only about eleven years of age, and that her opportunities for improvement had been very small. Before the war, she was too young to have made much progress in learning, and during the war, especially the latter part of it, and in North Carolina, amidst all the perils and desolations of civil war, going to school was out of the question. It was addressed to her step-mother, in Newport, R. I., who had, a short time before, 29 338 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. written to her for the first time, and this is her answer. It is dated Salisbury, N. C, June 6th, 1783. " My dear Mother : It gives me a great deal of pleasure to learn that you intend coming to Carolina, as I hope I shall be able to show myself worthy of your regard, of which I have been convinced ever since I heard my dear father speaking of you. " We have not had a letter from Mrs. Balfour, (widow of John Balfour, who had lately died at Che raw) since about a week before the evacuation of Charleston. She was there then and mentioned her coming up to her plantation at the Cheraw, but as we have heard nothing of her since, we suppose she has gone home. Uncle died of a lingering disorder of three months, and left three children, Nancy, Peggy and Andrew. Their youngest daughter, Mannie, died some time before her father. " As my aunt is writing now, I refer you to her letter for further particulars. Give my best love to my dear brother and sister ; and believe me to be, my dear mother, most affectionately Yours, Tibby Balfour." Our readers would, no doubt, be willing to know what became of Col. Balfour's widow and children, especially of that little Tibby ; for every one must feel a deep interest in learning something about her COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 339 subsequent history. She and her aunt Margaret, went to reside in Salisbury, where, with some indus try and economy, they lived comfortably on the rent of the land and the hire of the negroes. Towards the close of the year following the date of Tibby's letter to her, Mrs. Balfour, with her two little children, came by water to Wilmington and thence to Salis bury, where Margaret and Tibby had already made many warm friends. As General Greene was leav ing Rhode Island about the same time, for Charleston, he proffered to take her under his protection, provided she would go in the same vessel ; but as that would be more expensive, and require her to be longer on the water, she preferred coming, in another vessel, directly to Wilmington. He gave her a letter of recommendation, which secured for her a most respect ful attention from the Captain and all on board. In Fayetteville and all along the route, she appears to have received every mark of civility and cordial greet ing that she could ask, at least from the Whig portion of the community. It was only a few miles out of her way, and she made a pilgrimage to the grave of her murdered husband ; but the scene was too excit ing, and she lingered only a short time around the tomb of her buried hopes and affections. Having arrived on the east bank of the Yadkin in the evening, when it was too late to cross, especially as the^ stream was swollen, the news got to Salisbury before her ; and next morning, George Lucas sent his carriage to the river for her, and brought her into town just in good time to eat a Christmas dinner with him, Decern- 340 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. ber 25th, 1784. She appears to have been most cor dially welcomed by the good people of that place ; and every thing was done that could be done to make her comfortable. In a few years, an arrangement was made for her to keep the Post Office, and the profits of that yielded her a comfortable support. This was obtained either by a petition of the citizens, or, more likely, through the influence of General Steele, who, at that time, had some office under Washington's administration. The office went in the name of her son Andrew ; but he held it for her bene fit. She transacted all the business and received all the profits. She kept it until 1825, or thereabouts, which was some twenty-five or thirty years ; and, from first to last, gave entire satisfaction to all con cerned, making her quarterly returns very punctu ally and with great correctness. In proof of this, the following little incident will be sufficient. On making her quarterly or annual report, after she had been many years in the office, the Postmaster Gene ral wrote back to her that he had at length detected, in her account, a mistake of half a cent. About the year 1790, Tibby Balfour married John Troy, a native citizen of Salisbury, and had by him three children — John Balfour Troy, now of Randolph county, and two daughters, Margaret and Rachel. Margaret died at the Flat Swamp Springs, in what is now Davidson county, in 1813. Eachel married Lewis Beard of Lexington, and is yet living in the State of Mississippi. Margaret Balfour, the sister of Colonel Balfour, who was so cruelly beaten and COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 341 trampled on by Fanning and his crew, remained in this country, and during the latter years of her life, resided on the old plantation in Randolph county, with Lewis Beard, who married Tibby's youngest daughter, Rachel Troy. There she died, in 1818, and was laid in the same burying ground, beside, or near to her brother. After she lost her husband, Tibby went to live with her son, John B. Troy, Esq., who is well known in Randolph and in all the ad joining counties, as one of our most upright and use ful citizens. There she enjoyed, during the remain der of life, all the comforts and kind attentions which filial piety could bestow. Many years before her death, she made a profession of religion, and con nected herself with the Methodist church. The wri ter saw her at the house of her son, not long before her death ; and although she looked like a woman over whom the waves of affliction and sorrow had passed, she had in her countenance and demeanor, all the calm serenity of a meek and submissive Christian. She continued to adorn her profession, and to enjoy the confidence of all around her, until she was about sixty-five years of age, when she took a dimission from the church on earth, to join the church in heaven. She died on February 22d, 1837, as she had lived, in the peaceful hopes of the gospel, and sincerely lamented by a large circle of friends and acquaintances. , Colonel Balfour's son, Andrew, married Miss Mary Henly, daughter of John Henly, who was a member of the Quaker society ; and by her he had nine chil- 29* 342 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. dren — five sons and four daughters, all of whom re moved to the West, except Mrs. Eliza Drake, wife of Colonel Drake, now living in Ashboro'. He lived on the old plantation, on Betty McGee's creek, where he died in 1828, and was laid in the same burying ground with his murdered father. Respecting the character and standing of those who have goUe to the West, nothing is known to the writer, nor is it known whether they are all yet living ; but it may be presumed that the same kind Providence which has done so much for the rest, in this country, will also have them under the wing of his kind protection. The third, and only remaining child of Colonel Bal four, his daughter Margaret, and the only daughter he had by his second wife, married Hudson Hughs, of Salisbury, and had two daughters, — Mary, who married Samuel Reeves, of Salisbury; and Eliza, who died when young. This daughter also, now the widow Margaret, having lost her husband, by a mys terious Providence, was led to spend her last days on the old place, where she died and was laid in the com mon burial ground. All the family that have yet died, so far as known, have been buried at the old homestead, except Tibby, Mrs. Troy, and 'Squire Troy now says, he has often regretted since, that he did not take his good old mother there, and lay her with the rest. Some of them, after removing to the West, came back on business, or on a visit to their friends, but by the ordering of an all-wise Providence, died before they could get away, and were buried in the same cemetery; and even some who were grafted COL. ANDREW BALFOUR. 343 into the family by marriage, though with other thoughts and other places in view, have been made, by a strange over-ruling of circumstances, to end their days at the old mansion, and are now taking their long sleep in the common resting place. There they are all lying in their lowly beds, around their common ancestor, the patriotic, the heroic, the generous hearted, but unfortunate Colonel Andrew Balfour. What a place for serious reflection and for the undisturbed indulgence of all the pensive and sacred emotions of filial veneration and affection!' There are more tender and hallowed associations con nected with that little spot on Betty McGee's creek, than with almost any other spot in the whole country. If there is a place in this wide world which seems more sacred and more impressive than all others, it is the final resting place of departed friends, especially when their death had any thing of the martyr charac ter about it, or was attended with circumstances of peculiar solemnity; and the descendants of Colonel Balfour, for generations to come, may not only desire to find their last repose in the same family group, but may love to show their regard for his memory, and to re-invigorate their own sentiments of filial veneration for his name, by visiting the spot where he fell a sacrifice in the cause of freedom, and where his last remains are quietly waiting the sound of Gabriel's trump. 344 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. MAJOR ELROD. Courage and generosity, we believe, are natural and not acquired. By proper culture, they may be refined, expanded and rendered more uniform and salutary in their operation; but the elements must be there as a natural endowment, or there will be nothing to cultivate. There must be an original congeniality for great principles which, in proportion as they are purified and elevated by a Christian in fluence, will supplant the low spirit of avarice or re venge by loftier motives and raise their possessor above the contracted interests of party or the mere pur poses of self-aggrandizement. Even when the advantages of literary and reli gious cultivation have been withheld, the instinctive impulses of a noble nature, however much they may have been under a perverting and deteriorating in fluence, will occasionally expand over all adverse cir cumstances, and prompt to some act of generosity, which is at once surprising and delightful; but, then, being more under the control of circumstances, than of settled principles, they will be irregular in their promptings, and the acts thus performed, will be marred by gross inconsistencies. A man who has no strong and permanent emotions of a generous kind stirring within him, as the gift of nature, is utterly incapable of anything noble or praiseworthy ; and, in such a time as the revolutionary war, or, at any time when the circumstances in which he is placed tend MAJOR ELROD. 345 to develope his real character, his course will be marked sometimes by cruelty, and sometimes by cowardice. In the forks of the Yadkin, were two men on the Tory side. Major Elrod, whom, if I am not mistaken, I once heard called John Elrod, but am not certain, and Samuel Still, who furnished a good illustration of the above remarks. We have thus given their characters in advance, partly, because it is the most we know of them, and partly, because it will give us a better understanding of the few facts that have come to our knowledge. We have introduced them together, because, though of opposite character or disposition, they were always together, and both met their fate at the same time. Elrod, appears to have been a man of true courage, and would sometimes do a generous act ; but the other was a stranger to all those principles, from which anything noble or praiseworthy could proceed. Under any circum stances, even when facing death in some of its most appalling forms, Elrod was as brave as Caesar ; but Still was brave only when "the king of terrors" seemed to be at a distance ; and when any of his enemies fell into his hands, he could neither appre ciate heroic worth, nor commlsserate those, who like himself, shrunk from the thought of an immediate approach into the world of spirits. Elrod, with whom we are now principally concern ed, lived in the Forks of the Yadkin, where Colonel Bryant had control; and, as he carried on his ope rations mostly in that region, up and down the river. 346 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. we know very little about him. He was a young man, and lived in a small log house, with his mother. With a few men who rallied round him at his call, he was very enterprising and efficient in the service of the King. He was not properly a marauder, or mere freebooter, for he had a nature which, if cir cumstances had permitted, would have raised him above such a course. It does not appear that he ever came on a predatory excursion, or brought his men with him over the dividing ridge, between the waters of the Yadkin and those of Deep River ; but when he came over, he had only a very few men with him, and was on his way to Wilmington, or on his return. He was not attached to Fanning's corps, nor subject to his authority. He very seldom co operated with Colonel Fanning ; but seems to have confined himself to a different range of operations. He was with him at the battle of McFall's mills, but, so far as I have learned, that was the only instance ; and what part he took there is not known. There was a good understanding, with occasional co-opera tion or intercourse, and that was about all. With respect to his rank or standing as an officer, but little is known to the writer. According to my information, which is altogether of a traditionary kind, and in regard to this matter, rather vague and uncertain, he was called Captain Elrod until the summer of 1781, when he got the rank or title of Major ; but whether from British authority, or the Tory militia, does not appear. Isaac Farlow, who has a distinct recollection of what transpired in those MAJOR ELROD. 347 times, so far as they came within his knowledge, in the communication now before me, simply says, that " he held a commission," by which I presume, he meant a commission from British authority ; and as he went more than once during that year to Wil mington, it is natural to infer that he received the commission from Major Craig. When going to Wilmington and returning, he seems to have passed through the Tory region, accompanied with some two or three men, and spending a little time with Fan ning by the way ; but committing no murders or de predations on the Whigs, until the beginning of the next year, when on his return through the Whig settlement on Deep river, he killed one man, and wounded another, which caused him to be pursued and put to death. This affair, however, was con nected with so many others, that it will be necessary to go back, and take a little license in the detail of facts, some of which are new and worth relating. It was stated under another head, as the reader will recollect, that, on the day after the battle at McFall's mill, when he was returning to his head quarters in Moore county, one of his scouting par ties captured Col. Thomas Dugan, and carried him to Fanning, who almost instantly pronounced the sen tence of death, and he was about to be executed; but some of Fanning's men being his intimate ac quaintances, and personal friends, wished to save him. One man particularly, whether Elrod or some other, I have not learned, interested himself so warmly that he got a decided majority opposed to his execution, 348 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. and Fanning was compelled, much against his will, to revoke the sentence. Dugan was permitted to live, but was sent a prisoner to Major Craig at Wilming ton, where he lay a long time, and, like most other prisoners, suffered hardships which none but a very sound constitution could bear. After being confined for several weeks, either in the town or some build ing used for th3_ purpose, he was put on board a prison-ship and confined there, for two or three months, amidst all the filth and vermin, and pestilen tial air with which all such ships then abounded. Although he was now two hundred, or near two hundred miles from home, his mother, Mary Dugan, went all the way to see him, accompanied by, or rather " under the protection " of Mrs. Bell, a woman who went just where she pleased, regardless of all danger, and who commanded respect wherever she went ; but when they got there, the commanding officer. Major Craig, or some other, most inhumanly refused Mrs. Dugan permission to see her son, and she was obliged to return with a sad and troubled heart. " A long time after this," my informant says, " Col. Dugan was sentenced to be hung on the yard-arm, or some fixture of the prison-ship, and the time appointed for the execution had arrived. The preparations were all made — the rope round his neck and the cap drawn over his face, ready to be swung off, when Major Elrod, Samuel Still, and Michael Robins, who were down there at the time, came on board. Whether they had come casually, or having heard of what was about to take place, had come for MAJOR ELROD. 349 the purpose of trying to do him a favor, is not known ; but Elrod interceded so effectually on his behalf, that he obtained his release, and permission for him to return home. By this time he had become, from long confinement and the impure air of the prison-ship, so feeble, emaciated and sickly in his appearance that, he may have excited their compassion, or probably they thought that it was not worth while to hang him, for he would soon die without hanging. With some assistance, however, he got home, and lived many years. Shortly after his return, Isaac Farlow saw him at Bell's mill, walking the mill-yard, moaning and sighing, apparently in much trouble of mind, and so emaciated that his clothes were all hanging loosely about him ; or, to use Farlow's ex pression, " he wore shorts, and his legs did not near fill his long hose." He lived within a short distance, and had probably rode over there for the exercise. We will now leave him there for the present, and bring into notice two or three other incidents. In the latter part of February, 1781, Col. William Fields, with the men under his command, having captured Henry Johnson, Joseph Johnson, and several other Whigs, had them with him as prisoners, on his way to the head-quarters of Colonel Pyle, on Cane creek, where he intended to join Colonel Pyle, and go with him to the British army, in Hillsboro', but be fore he reached the place of rendezvous he heard of " Pyle's hacking match " at Holt's, where Col. Lee made such havoc of his little Tory army ; and then he let his prisoners go on parole. Through the sum- 80 850 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. mer and fall, as it appears, they all stayed at home, and manifested no disposition whatever to violate the conditions of their parole. About the last of Febru ary, or the first of March, 1782, Henry Johnson went over to a neighboring house to get his shoes mended, and was returning. As no man in those times, whether at home or abroad, felt safe a minute without his gun, he had carried his rifle, either for the purpose of killing squirrels or of self-defence, if it should be necessary. On his way home, one of his neighbors, by the name of Robert Tucker, fell in with him, and the two went along together at their leisure, and without apprehension. Elrod, Still and Robbins remained a short time at Wilmington after Col. Dugan left, and then set off on their return home. Taking it leisurely, and probably making a call on Col. Fanning, by the way, as he passed through Johnson's neighborhood he accidently met with him and Tucker. Elrod knowing that Johnson was on parole, told him that he would chastise him for carrying a gun, and immediately struck him on the head with his new sword, which had probably been given him shortly before, by Major Craig, at Wil mington, and broke it into two pieces. Then, with the stump or butt end, which he held in his hand, he knocked him down, and Still instantly shot a rifle ball into his head. They were going to shoot Tucker also, but he seized the gun ; and either wrested it temporally out of the man's hand, or turned it up so that the ball, when the gun fired, passed over his head, and then ran. One of the MAJOR ELROD. 351 men shot at him, however, as he ran, with a gun or pistol, and broke his arm; but he went on to the nearest Whig house, and gave the alarm. This happened near Osborne's place, where Colo nel Hogan since lived. After going a little distance they left the road and halted for the purpose of eat ing a snack and taking a dram. While thus engaged, they fancied that they heard the sound of horses' feet passing along the road, and returned to ascertain, if they could, who had passed, or whence the sound had proceeded. They found a number of fresh tracks, which one of them suggested might have been made by the horses of the Quakers going to meeting, but the rest thought they must be the tracks of the light horse. As Johnson was an active Whig and highly esteemed in the neighborhood, they were well aware that as soon as his death became known, they would be pursued, and they were easily alarmed. Robins is said to have been a man of daring charac ter ; but he was sagacious enough to know what must soon be the consequence, and, like most other men, he regarded self-preservation as the first law of nature. After shirking about for a few days, or a very short time, he "cut out" with his family, went to the frontiers of Georgia, and never returned. Elrod and Still immediately pursued their way to the forks of the Yadkin, where they appear to have thought themselves secure, and felt no apprehension that the Whigs of Johnson's neighborhood would leave their houses exposed and pursue them so far into that Tory region where the influence of Colonel 352 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. Bryant was then predominant ; but they were mis taken. The alarm having been given in the neighborhood, a troop of mounted men was quickly paraded and ready for marching orders, consisting of Colonel Dugan, Captain William Clarke, Jacky Veach, Bar tholomew Grogan, and many others. Galling at the house of Colonel Williams, where Nicholas Williams now lives, on the Yadkin, they got him to go with them to the house of Mrs. Elrod, and arrived there in the night. Colonel Williams, though a resolute man himself, viewed the enterprise as so perilous that he hesitated for some time before he would con sent to go along as a pilot ; but it was in the night, and the road was difficult to find ; it was an important matter to have these men killed or taken, and having full confidence in the well known courage and sagacity of the Whig party now in pursuit, he finally con sented. On approaching the house, they called a halt, and held a brief consultation to determine on the course of procedure, and to have everything dis tinctly understood. Well aware of Elrod's resolute character, and not knowing how many men he might have in the house, they thought it best to be cau tious ; and the first move was to send Captain Clarke to the house, for the purpose of making what disco veries he could. At the back of the house, he found a high stump, on which he mounted, and looked through the cracks. A wood fire was still burning in the chimney, and threw a dim, flickering light over the house. He saw two men together in a bed, and one MAJOR ELROD. 353 lying on the hearth before the fire. They appeared to be all in a sound sleep, and their guns were stacked in the corner. Having got all the informa tion necessary, he returned to the company, and made his report. Several suggestions were made, and at first they could not agree; but, they soon as sented unanimously to the proposal of Captain Clarke, which was, that two of them, should go with all 'their force against the door and burst it open, then rush in and seize the men before they could get their guns. Almost as a matter of course, considering his muscular strength, and his dauntless courage, Clarke was the first one nominated for this purpose, and Jack Veach volunteered to go with him, but on ap proaching the door, Veach drew back, and refused to go any further. They returned then to the com pany a few rods off, and Grogan volunteered to take Veach's place ; but on approaching the door again, he suddenly stopped and retreated. Clarke, then seizing a fence rail, and telling the rest to come along, ran up and drove it against the door with so much force, that he stove the door off the hinges, and threw it half way across the house, then bounding in with great rapidity, he seized one of the men in bed, rushed him to the fire, and holding his face to the light, said, "I have got hold of Mr. Still;" but the other denied, and said it was not Still. Clarke then, still holding him by the throat, jolted or bumped his head two or three times against the side of the fire-place, when the other told Clarke not to 30* 854 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. abuse him ; and Clarke replied that he would not, if he would tell him no lies — Still, no longer denied his name, and could not do it, for Clarke knew him as soon as he brought him to the light. In the mean time, the rest of the men had fol lowed close upon Clarke's heels, one of whom had seized the other man in bed, who proved to be Elrod ; and another had seized the one who was lying on the hearth, so that they had them all secure, and at the light, where they could recognize them. Clarke now said to Still, " You had fine fun the other day in killing Henry Johnson ;" but Still replied in a timid way, "that Johnson was dead, when he shot him," thus admitting that he did kill him, for he would be a savage to shoot a man whom he knew to be dead ; but Elrod then spoke, and said, " Come, Still, don't go to death with a lie in your mouth." Having secured their prisoners, they held a kind of court martial or consultation, for the purpose of determining Avhat disposition should be made of them, and it was decided, that as they had shot John son, they should be shot next morning. When morn ing came, they took them away about half a mile from the house, where they tied them to trees, and shot them. Still, showed that he had no true courage — turned and twisted in every way, tried his best to get the tree between him and the guns, and could not be kept quiet ; but Elrod was calm, and without uttering a word or moving a muscle, submit ted to his fate, leaving some messages for his friends, and distributing some of his clothes. Elrod was MAJOR ELROD. 855 shot under the arm, and the ball probably penetrated his heart, for Isaac Farlow says, " he saw William Darnell shortly after, wearing Elrod's waistcoat, with a patch over the bullet hole." Having accomplished their purpose, the company, according to the heart less custom of the times, left these men just in the position in which they were when shot, and returned home. In this case, Colonel Dugan, who was both honor able in his principles, and humane in his feelings, was placed in a trying position, and he felt it very sensibly. The reader will recollect, that only a few weeks before, Elrod had saved him from the gallows, when the rope was about his neck, and the cap drawn over his face, at Wilmington; and would he not now be grateful and generous enough to save the life of his benefactor ? — There are two accounts of this mat ter, which, at first, appear quite contradictory, but may be easily reconciled. According to one of these, which, is that of Isaac Farlow, after the men had been seized in the house, and before any consultation had been held on their case, Elrod and Dugan retired to the bed, and then, sitting together on the side of it, talked for some time. Elrod urged upon Dugan, to recollect how he had saved him from being hung on board the prison-ship, and claiming, as a matter of honor and generosity, that Dugan would now do as much for him ; Dugan replied that, for any thing he had ever done to him, he could freely forgive him ; but for having killed Henry Johnson, he must die. According to the other account, which I had 856 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. from Doct. Wood, of Cedar Falls, who is better ac quainted with the revolutionary incidents of that region, than almost any other man ; Dugan did his best to save Elrod's life, from a grateful sense of obligation, and had his feelings much mortified be cause he could not succeed. From Dugan's character, we have no doubt that his feelings would have prompted him to spare Elrod's life, and had it depended on him alone, we think it probable, that he would not have put him to death, but, as the commanding' officer of the com pany, he must sustain the decision. In the court or consultation which they held, he may have done all he could to save his benefactor ; but the men and the officers, if any were present, would never agree that those who had killed Henry Johnson, and had done it so wantonly, should be permitted to live; and Dugan, when addressing Elrod or conferring with him, was obliged to maintain his position, and speak as the organ of others. On this supposition, which is a very natural one, and almost the only one that could be made, the two accounts are consistent, and Dugan is free from any imputation of ingrati tude or want of generosity. My informants proba bly got their information from different sources, and even if they both got it from men who went on the expedition, as we have no doubt that Farlow got his from Captain Clarke, himself, who was one of his near neighbors, they might have received accounts a little different, as those who were present, would MAJOR ELROD. 357 relate what they saw and heard, according to their own feelings, or impressions at the time. The above transaction took place in March, 1782, and probably during the time that Fanning was making his terrible irruption into the Whig settle ment up Deep river, in which Colonel Dugan lived. As Fanning was only some twenty-five or thirty miles below Bell's Mills, and was remarkable for the quickness and accuracy, with which he got informa tion from all directions, he must have been informed very quickly, that Elrod had killed Johnson, and that the Whigs of his neighborhood had gone in pur suit. This afforded a fine opportunity for him to make an excursion into that region, and he resolved not to let it pass. Moreover, he knew very well, that if they got Elrod in their power, they would put him to death, and that with such men as Colonel Dugan and Captain Clarke at their head, they would be almost sure to succeed. His ambition and re venge, had already been roused to a high pitch of excitement, by the execution of several of his men at Hillsboro', and the anticipated execution of Elrod, now nerved him to deeds of the most reckless daring. He and his banditti, swept through the settlement, like a troop of Saracens, with fire and sword, killing every Whig that they could find, burn ing the houses, and destroying the property of such as they could not kill, and leaving behind them a scene of unparalleled desolation and distress. If Dugan and his men had been at home. Fanning would not have ventured into their bounds, or, if he 358 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. had been so fool-hardy, they would very quickly have raised men enough to arrest his progress, and make him repent his rashness. As it was, John Clarke, raised a few men as quickly as possible, and went in pursuit. Captain John Gillespie, of Guil ford county, having probably been notified by ex press, came down with his company, and with his aid, they ran Fanning back to his old haunts. Gillespie was a man of most daring courage, and would have been glad to measure swords with Col. Fanning or any other Tory in the land. They over took one of those, whom they found at the " gallows limb," about to bury or rob the corpse of the Whig whom they had just hung, and Clarke shot at him. He wounded him, but not badly. The man however, "played possum" so well, that he deceived them, and they left him before he was dead, when he jumped up and ran away. They left so soon, because they were impatient to overtake the rest, and they got in chase of one or two, but they could uot overtake them. During this pursuit, they got in chase of Michael Robbins, who was yet skulking about in the country, and Clarke shot at him with his pistol, but missed, and Robbins escaped; immediately after which Robbins left the country and never returned. If we are right in our conjectures, this proves that Fan ning, for natural abilities, was no ordinary man, and that, during his brief career, he was a more terrible scourge to this country, than the good people of the present day can easily imagine. THE MEBANE FAMILY. 359, THE MEBANE FAMILY. " Colonel Alexander Mebane, the patriarch of the family, came from the north of Ireland and settled in Pennsylvania, where he remained several years, when he removed with his family to North Carolina and settled in the Hawfields, in Orange county. He was a man of good sense, upright, industrious and prudent in the management of his business affairs and soon acquired considerable wealth. He was commissioned Colonel and Justice of the Peace under the Regal government. He had twelve chil dren, six sons and six daughters, all of whom, except one, married and settled and raised families in Orange county. After the Declaration of Independence it was soon ascertained that they were in the neighborhood of many Tories ; but the old gentlemen and all his sons except the youngest who was not grown, at once became Whigs and- active defenders of the liberties' of the country and supporters of the army The British and Tories committed great depredations on the old gentleman's property — burnt his barns and fences, plundered his dwelling and took away every thing they could carry, even emptying the feathers from the beds and carrying away the ticks and furniture. The old gentleman was too old to become an active soldier himself; but his sons were active and zealous in the cause of Independence. William, the oldest, was a Captain in the militia. ^=7 f-^ (^ ^-y^ 360 , REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. Alexander was constantly and actively engaged in the service of his country, and in addition to other duties, he discharged that of Commissary in collect ing and distributing supplies of necessary provisions to the troops. The neighborhood was so much harassed by the Tories that he was compelled to send some of his oldest children and servants to a place in an adjoining county out of their range. When Cornwallis took Hillsboro', he narrowly escaped on foot, leaving a valuable mare, saddle, bridle, holsters and pistols. Whilst the British army were in Hillsboro', a company of them who went into the country around to collect supplies visited his mill and dwelling, when there was no person on the premises except his wife and some of the youngest children, and carried away meal from the mill, and bacon and poultry from and about the house. A few days after this, Lee's company of Light Horse with a company of Catawba Indians passed by the mill ; and in a day or two after this, eight or ten of General Picken's men called at the gate, when Mrs. Mary Mebane, wife of Alexander, went out accom panied by some of the youngest children who were at home with her, and one of the men presented a pistol to her breast and threatened to shoot her unless she would tell them where her husband was. She replied that he was where he ought to be, in General Green's camp; and after some more talk, they asked her for something to eat. She brought it out to them, and they eat it sitting on their horses, and departed. THE MEBANE FAMILY. 361 Col. Robert Mebane was a man of undoubted courage and activity in the cause of his country and was a Colonel in the Continental line of the army. He was in many battles and skirmishes with the British and Tories. At the battle on Cane creek he displayed great prowess and valor and fought hero like. General Butler having ordered a retreat. Colonel Mebane rushed before the retreating army and, by violent efforts, got a part of them stopped, and gained a victory. Towards the close of the battle, ammunition becoming scarce, he passsed along the line carrying powder in his hat and distributing it among the soldiers, encouraging and animating them to persevere in the bloody strife. He was afterwards with his regiment on the Waters of the Cape Fear, contending with the Tories; but being notified that his services were needed in the northern part of the State, he set out accompanied only by his servant. On the way, he came upon a noted Tory and horse thief, by the name of Henry Hlghtower who was armed with a British musket. Knowing him, and perhaps too fearless and regardless of the con sequences, he pursued him and when within striking distance with his arm uplifted, Hightower wheeled and shot him. Perhaps one of the first expeditions in which he was engaged was in company with General Rutherford, in 1776, with one thousand and nine hun dred men, against the " overhlll Cherokees," routing them, burning their towns and destroying their crops, in which he displayed his fearlessness and unflinching- 81 362 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. courage. In person he was large, strong, active, and of commanding appearance. Colonel John Mebane, late of Chatham county, entered as Captain in the service of his country in the time of the revolution. When Hillsboro' was taken by the British and Tories, the Tories com manded by the notorious David Fanning, he was captured and with Thomas Burke, Governor of the state, and William Kinchen and others, was marched under the Tory Col. McDougal, who, although there was an attempt made by the Whigs to rescue them at Lindley's mill, succeeded in taking them to Wil mington, N. C, when they were put on board a prison-ship and from there taken to Charleston, S. C. where they were still confined on board the ship for a long time, suffering extremely by the privations, heat, filth and vermin and the diseases common on board prison-ships. As John Mebane and William Kinchen, after their release, were on their way home, Kinchen was taken sick and died. A skirmish took place in the Hawfields, near old Colonel Mebane's house, between a small party of Whigs and Tories, in which the Tories were defeated and fled. The Whigs pursued them. Joseph Hodge, a valiant Whig, who was very resolute and eager in the pursuit, overtook a noted Tory, by the name of John Hasting, who was an active Tory and had piloted the British and Tories through the neighbor hood (he living near Col. Mebane's,) to places where their property was concealed. Hasting was armed with a British musket and THE MEBANE FAMILY. 363 bayonet. He was overtaken, surrendered to Hodge, and pitched his musket from him which stuck in the ground by the baycinet. Hodge, wheeled, to pursue the other Tories who were still before, leaving Hast ing to the care of John Steel, who was just behind. Hasting took his gun and shot Hodge, as he rode from him, in the hip with the iron ramrod, and attempted to escape. Steel fired his rifle at him and the ball struck a tree near Hasting's head. Steel then charged upon him with his sword, cutting his nose through into the face, and splitting his head in a variety of places, and would have killed him if it had not been for the entreaties of Hodge, who was lying near with the iron ramrod sticking in him, and begged him to spare his life. He being then lite rally cut to pieces, he got a hat, fitted the pieces of skin on his head and put on the hat to hold them together. He was then put into the custody of Moses Crawford to take him to jail in Hillsboro' ; but as they were passing the lane of James Mebane, Senr., Hasting snatched a stake out of the fence, knocked Crawford down and escaped. The ramrod was drawn, with much effort, from Hodge, and he had to secrete himself from the Tories until he got well. During this time he was occasionally visited by Doct. John Umstead, a worthy man and eminent physician, who practised medicine successfully for many years, after the war, in the Hawfields, and whose memory is yet cherished by many who had partaken of his kindness and skill. David Mebane, the youngest of the brothers, did not arrive at the 364 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. age at which men were taken into the service until near the close of the -^ar, yet he served two terms in the militia. After the close of the war, the sons of old Colonel Mebane were highly respected for their services in obtaining the liberty and independence of the coun try, and were frequently called upon to serve their country in various departments, William Mebane was chosen by the freeholders of Orange county, in 1782, to serve them in the Senate of the General Assembly, with William McCauley and Mark Patter son in the Commons. He was twice married. His first wife was. a Miss Abercrombie, with whom he lived many years, and in his old age he married a Miss Rainey, a daughter of the Rev. Benjamin Rainey. He died leaving no child, having had none by either marriage. v' Alexander Mebane was a member of the Provincial .Congress or Convention that met at Halifax, on the 16th day of December, A. D., 1776, to form a Con stitution of the State, and of the Convention at .Hillsboro', to fix the Seat of Government and adopt the Constitution of the United States. He was a member of the House of Commons of the General Assembly, in 1783, '84, '87, '88, '89, '90, '91, and '92. About this time -he was elected a Briga,dier-gene- ral by the General Assembly of North Carolina. In 1793, he was elected a member of Congress and served two sessions in Philadelphia, He was elected ^gain to the »ext Congress, but died before the com- THE MEBANE FAMILY. 365 mencement, on the 5th day of July, 1795. He was distinguished for his sound practical sense, his un blemished integrity and unfiinching firmness. Gene ral Alexander Mebane was born in Pennsylvania, 26th of Novemberj 1744. He was married to Mary Armstrong, of Orange county, in February, 1767, by whom he had twelve children, four sons and eight daughters. One of the daughters died before she was grown. All the other children married and had families. Of his sons there are yet alive, James Mebane, Esquire, now near Yancyville, Caswell^ county, who has been much in public life, served very often in both Houses of the legislature, was one of the first students at Chapel Hill, and one of the founders of the literary societies there. The Dia- lective Society, to perpetuate his name and his ser vices, have procured a life-like portrait of him, that may be seen in their hall. He married in early life, Elizabeth Kinchen, the only child of William Kinchen, whose name has been mentioned in this sketch, by whom he had six children, five sons and one daughter. William, who lives at Mason Hall, in Orange county, and Doct. John Alexander Me bane, at Greensboro', Guilford county. Of his daughters, two only survive, Frances, the wife of the Rev. William D. Paisley, who is the son of Colonel John Paisley, a brave and valiant soldier of the Re volution, and Elizabeth, the wife of William H. Goodloe, of Madison county, Mississippi. General Alexander Mebane was, in his person, what is gene rally termed a likely man, about six feet high, of 31* 366 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. ruddy complexion, black hair and of robust appear ance. He was a member of the Presbyterian church, and died on the 5th day of July, 1795, with a com fortable assurance of a glorious and blessed immor tality. Some of his last words were — I know Him in whom I have believed. Capt. James Mebane was also actively employed during the Revolutionary war. He married Marga ret Allen, of the Hawfields, by whom he had a large family of children. He died some years before hia wife. Col. John Mebane, late of Chatham- county, was elected for that county, and served in the House of Commons of the General Assembly, in 1790, '91, '92, '93, '95, '98, '99, 1800-1-3-8-9-11. About the close of the war he married Mrs. Sarah Kinchen, widow of William Kinchen, who died on his way home from the prison-ship, at Charleston, S. C, by whom he had one son, John Briggs Mebape, who represented the county in the House of Commons in, 1813, and one daughter who married Thomas Hill, of Rockingham county. David Mebane, the youngest son of the patriarch of the family, represented the county of Orange, in the House of Commons, in the years 1808, '09 and 10. He married Miss Ann Allen, of the Hawfields. He had a large family of children, of whom, George A, Mebane of Mason Hall, merchant and Post Master, is one. After the death of his first wife, he married Mrs. Elizabeth Young, of Caswell, by whom he had THE MEBANE FAMILY. 367 one daughter. He died several years before his last wife. A considerable portion of this numerous family are now living in Orange, Caswell and Guilford coun ties ; but a large portion have migrated to the west and are living in various States of Tennessee, Ken tucky, Mississippi, Indiana, Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas." The above sketch was furnished by James Mebane, Esq., of Caswell county, who is so well known over the State for his integrity, his strong good sense, his public spirit and the consistency of his Christian deportment. It was furnished at my special request ; and for this act of courtesy and kindness I consider myself under strong obligations. It was my design from the first, provided the memoranda could be obtained, to give a sketch of Col. Robert Mebane, whose military and patri otic services, during the war, I had always heard mentioned in terms of high commendation ; and for this purpose I applied to his nephew, Doct. John A. Mebane, of Greensboro', who told me that he had several brothers who were equally patriotic and active during that eventful period of our country's history. I then told him that I would be glad to get an account of the others also ; and he referred me to his brother James who was much older and much better acquainted with the history of the family. At my request he promptly consented to procure the facts from his brother; and the sketch which he has furnished is certainly a '^erj well written one for a man who is 368 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. seventy -five -years of age. It contains many facts of interest, as matters of history, and having been written, as it evidently was, with great candor and modesty, it will be read with pleasure by every one who admires the spirit and character of the men who achieved our independence. According to the information which I have had from other sources, I would say that the writer, in this plain and honest statement of facts, instead of exaggerating, has fallen below the truth; and that in all honesty and fairness, much more might have been said. Some ten or twelve years ago I called to see Nathaniel Slade, then a man of advanced age, but a respectable citizen of Caswell county. He had been in the Guilford battle, and on more than one expedi tion with Col. Robert Mebane. The energy and firmness which Mebane displayed in the battle on Cane Creek Ijave been already noticed. Disregard ing the order of General Butler for a retreat, he ral lied as many of the men as he could, renewed the conflict and gained a victory, or rather made it a " drawn battle." At the first opportunity, he went to Butler, told him that he had disobeyed his order to retreat, and then offered him his sword ; but But ler had, of course, too much sense to receive it. In this he showed the courage and magnanimity of a hero ; and all the testimony I have had, in regard to to this whole affair, is perfectly accordant. Immediately after the battle on Cane creek. Gene ral Butler collected as many men as possible, on the spur of the occasion, and pursued the Tories. THE MEBANE FAMILY, 369 Slade and Mebane were both on this expedition, as they both belonged to Butler's District. Whether it was owing to the difficulties which could not be over come, or to the want of sufficient firmness on the part of the commanding officer, the writer has no means of ascertaining ; but they did not overtake the Tories and could not rescue the Governor. At a place called the Brown Marsh, they met a party of British and Tories, and a skirmish ensued. Slade told me that Butler, under an impression that the enemy had " field pieces," ordered a retreat after the first fire and set the example himself; but Mebane did just as he had done on Cane creek, disobeyed orders, rallied as many of the men as he could, and continued the fight until they were overpowered by numbers, or by ^British discipline, and were obliged to retreat. Slade said that he was not far from Mebane, and heard him giving his orders in a bold strong voice : " Now give it to them boys — fire ! Load again, boys, and give them another round — fire !" True courage is one of those things which cannot be counterfeited; and a man of real energy and firmness will make his mark wherever, he goes. In this affair at Brown Marsh, as at the battle on Cane creek, Mebane showed an utter disregard of his own safety ; and the old man Slade, when speaking of it seemed to become quite enthusiastic. It was on his return from this expe dition that he was killed or mortally wounded by the Tory, as above related, and his death was much re gretted by the Whig party. In the last will and testament of Colonel John Me- 370 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. bane, of Chatham county, which is dated May 31st, 1834, I find the following bequest which relates to a military relic of his brother. Colonel Robert Mebane, and touchingly indicates the martial spirit of the two brothers. " Item. I give and bequeath to my nephew, Dr. John A. Mebane, of Greensboro', my silver hilted sword, it being the first sword taken from the British in North Carolina during the revolutionary war, by my brother Col. Robert Mebane." The sword mentioned in the above extract, was taken by Colonel Mebane, from a British officer, somewhere about Wilmington, or in that region, but precisely when, and under what circumstances is not now recollected. It has been carefully preserved by Doctor Mebane, to whom it was bequeathed ; and will probably be handed down as a kind of "heir-loom" in the family, for generations to come. CAPTAIN WILLIAM CLARKE. 371 CAPTAIN WILLIAM CLARKE. Samuel Clarke, whose sons appear to have been all decided Whigs, during the war, is said to have come originally from the north of Ireland, and belonged to the stock of Scotch-Irish Presbyterians. He came to North Carolina, with a young family, in the early settlement of the country, and located himself on Deep river, a few miles above Bell's mill. The family were all Presbyterians during the war, and for a number of years after. As there were some other Presbyterian families near enough to attend preach ing at the same place, they built a log house for a place of public worship, about three miles from Bell's mill and known for a long time as Bell's meeting house. Here they had preaching occasionally, and it is said that a small church was organized there, but it is believed that they never had stated preaching by any minister of that denomination, or, not for any length of time. Nothing more is known to the writer, in regard to the number or circumstances of the old man's family, except that he had six sons, William, Thomas, Ed ward, Samuel, Joseph and John, all of whom, as I have been told, were Whigs during the war; and three or four of them were very active, resolute and efficient men. William was probably the oldest, and became the most prominent. John, though the youngest, is said to have been a man of more daring courage than any of them, but his impetuosity was 372 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. not SO much under the control of his judgment. When William was appointed Captain is not known, but probably when the South became the seat of war. " Joseph also seems to have been a captain, for he had, towards the close of the war, a troop of mounted men generally under his command. They appear to have been a religious family ; but whether all or any of them were in communion with the church, I have not learned. Willlain acted as clerk in the public wor ship of the sanctuary, or raised the tune for the con gregation ; and it is still in the recollection of the oldest people in that neighborhood that he frequently shed tears while parcelling out the lines, which indi cates at least a strong religious feeling. This was before the British army entered North Carolina, about the beginning of 1781, and consequently before the war between Whigs and Tories had begun to rage with any degree of virulence. After that there was very little opportunity or inclination for public wor ship, and all the worst passions of the human heart, even in good men, for a time, gained an undue ascen dancy. The country was filled with violence and all the fruits of piety seemed to wither as if smitten by some pestilential blight. The people of the south and east parts 6f the county were chiefly Tories ; but in the west and north west part, where there was a considerable amount of Scotch-Irish population, there was a respectable num ber of most determined, resolute and thorough-going Whigs. At the head of these were the Clarkes and DuganS, only two of whom, Thomas and John, are \ CAPTAIN WILLIAM CLARKE. 373 now much known. Thomas Dugan was a Colonel, and a very firm, vigilant and enterprising officer. He was as brave as any man ; but his conscience and his humanity were equipollent with his courage. He was highly respected by both parties for his prudence, uprightness and generosity ; and even the Tories, on some occasions,, interposed to save his life, when otherwise he would have been put to death. William Clarke, with his company, was always ready to obey the call of his country, and his services" were much in demand. It has always been said, that he was one of the most energetic and intrepid men in the coun try. When not in the army, he was often out against the Tories, always on the alert, hardly ever idle and never taken by surprise. He and two or three of his brothers, particularly Joseph and" John, were so dar ing in their spirit and so rapid in their motions, that the very name of Clarke became nearly or quite as ¦ much of a terror to the Tories, as the name of Fan ning was to the Whigs of that region. He was the foremost man in capturing and putting to death the notorious Major Elrod ; but as a fuller account of that transaction has been given in a separate article, we pass it over here. How much he was in the army I have not learned; but it is known that he served two campaigns in South Carolina, He served one campaign there under General Lincoln ; but whether he was made prisoner when Charleston was taken, no one now recollects. He was there again at a subsequent period, and was probably at the battle of Eutaw in the fall of 1781. Isaac Farlow, 3-2 ¦ 374 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. who was intimately acquainted with him and often heard him relate these things, says that he was in a battle near Charleston where seven hundred men were killed and wounded ; but we presume it was the battle of Eutaw, as that was the only battle in that State in which any thing like so many -^ere killed. The old man says Clarke told him he knew he had killed one man in that battle, and might have killed more, which was a serious matter in the estimation of a Quaker, and would be a serious matter with every man, religious or not, if he would soberly con sider the subject. If such reflections were to become universal, they would soon put a stop to war. After the independence of the country was estab- Jished and he was enjoying, in common with all others, the freedom for which he had fought, he began to reflect on the past and to inquire into the future. The storm had passed and all was gradually settling down into a pleasant calm. The time and the circumstances were calculated to bring his past course into review, and to lead his thoughts forward into the distant future. His early education and the reasonings of his own strong and vigorous mind had taught him that the pardon of sin and a renovation of his moral powers were necessary to a peaceful death and to any well founded hopes of future rest. He had not been a "go-between " nor had his course been an inefficient one, consequently he had done a great deal of good or committed a great deal of sin — perhaps both. At all events he found that he was far from the great source of all happiness and there CAPTAIN WILLIAM CLARKE. 875 was much in his past life which would not bear examination. His past sins all came in array before him and imbittered all his enjoyments. He thought of God and was afraid.. He had never been troubled with the fear of man ; but he feared his Maker. He thought, he trembled, he was much distressed. He -had fought and conquered in the cause of civil liberty ; but now he sighed for a far higher and more important freedom. There was no preacher of his own denomination to explain to him the way of salvation and he was left, with the Bible in his hand, to seek and find the way himself. \ In this perplexed and troubled state of mind he continued for several years ; but at length he settled down, on the great doctrine of atonement and began to feel that he was "a sinner saved by grace." Having thus settled the great question of his accept ance with God and of his future obedience, on which every thing else depended, his next inquiry was to know what the Lord would have him to do or to find that upward and brightening path which leads to the final abodes of the blest : of course many former practices had to be abandoned and new ones com menced. Among the former, the most prominent and the most difficult to be settled were those of war and negro slavery. In regard to the latter, he read in the Declaration of Independence that the great principle for which he and others had been fighting and shedding each other's bloody was that " all men are born free and equal." In the New Testament he read, " Call no man master, but by love serve one 376 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. another. In Christ Jesus there is neither Greek nor Jew, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free, but all are one in Christ Jesus. Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you do ye the same unto them," and he found it to be the burden of evangelical prophecy that Christ would " bind up the broken hearted, proclaim liberty to the captives and the opening of the prison to them that are found." On the subject of war, he read such passages as the following : " Return not evil for evil, but over come evil with good. Thou shalt not kill ; whoso ever shall kill, shall be in danger of the judgment. If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; and if he thirst, give him drink. Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; But I say unto you that ye resist not evil; but who soever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. From whence came wars and fightings among you ? Come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members." On returning home once, from some tour of military service, his clothes were all spattered over with human blood and brains ; and this made a vivid impression on his mind for many years after. He remembered the dying looks of those who fell by his sword, and that increased the anguish of his spirit. He was brave, but he was humane, too. He could face the cannon, and stand firm on the field of battle ; but he could not brave the terrors of the Almighty, nor bear the CAPTAIN WILLIAM CLARKE. 377 reproaches of his own conscience. No wonder that having obtained forgiveness himself, he should feel like forgiving those who had injured him. No wonder that having had his own heart subdued by the goodness of God, he should feel like overcoming evil with good, and subduing the enmity of others, by the benign powor of Christian kindness. Such were the facts in the case, substantially, as I received them, here a little and there a little. Such was the process by which Captain William Clarke, there amidst the crags and solitudes of Deep river, was employed in working out for himself the solution of the important question whether war and slavery were in accord ance with the cardinal principles of the Gospel ; and in view of all the circumstances, we cannot do other wise than feel a deep interest in contemplating the mental and moral progress of a man, who when con tending for national freedom and independence, would, at any time, rush upon his foes in all the con fidence of victory, just as if he felt that he had a perfect right to conquer, and who always came off victorious. Whether right or wrong in his conclu sions, we must admire his frankness, his regard for truth and his decision of character. Having satisfied his mind that war and slavery were both wrong, it was a matter of course for him to stand by his convictions and to practice what he believed. From that time he was a Quaker in prac tice, as well as principle, and soon after connected himself with the Society. It was during a quarterly meeting at Centre meeting-house, when David Havi- 378 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS.. land, from the north, attended and preached. On Saturday, at the close of the services, Clarke rose to his feet, and walking up towards the place where the preacher had stood, and around which the office bear ers of the Society usually sat, he told them he had a desire to become a member of that religious society, and that he had been for some time using "the plain language." This was in 1800, and my informant, Isaac Farlow, was present. He had six children — two daughters, one of whom married Ben jamin Saunders, the other married a man by the name of Lamb ; and four sons, Dugan, Alexander, John and Thomas. His descendants are still in the country, and so far as I know, have a respectable standing in society. We do not know the process of reasoning by which General Green was turned from being a Quaker to be a man of war. Possibly he had no conscientious ness and no process of reasoning about it ; but merely followed the combined impulse of his patriotic feel ings, his love of liberty and the martial tendencies of his nature. However this may have been, the mere fact that William Clarke, though a hero, and a man naturally of strong mind, turned to be a Quaker, is no proof that he was right; for, where conscience and duty are concerned, men of vigorous and en lightened minds often change and go in opposite directions. The opinions which a man who is in earnest about his future welfare, forms on many points of faith and practice, must depend partly on the circumstances in which he is placed, and the faci- CAPTAIN "WILLIAM CLARKE. 379 lities which he possesses for ascertaining the truth ; and partly on the original texture of his mind, or on the constitutional and relative adjustment of his powers. There are in the Christian system, as in every thing else, certain elementary and cardinal principles, on which all must be pretty well agreed ; but there are others on which there may be some modification of belief and practice. Of these, the lawfulness of war is one ; and great and good men have frequently been found on opposite sides. Without discussing here the question whether our Quaker friends have carried the doctrine of " passi vity" to an extreme or not, we honor them for their frank and fearless avowal of what they believed to be a cardinal doctrine of the Christian system, and for the general consistency with which they have maintained their position. We hold to the right of self-defence, properly interpreted, whether in nations or individuals ; for it seems to be a universal law of nature to protect itself; and thls^ law of nature, according to our understanding of the matter, is in full accordance with the written law of heaven ; but we are no advocates of war, and care not how much it is denounced, when done in the right spirit. The unlawfulness of war is not a Quaker doctrine, but a Gospel doctrine, and has always been held by most evangelical Christians. Where life is taken by vio lence and with the intention to take it, except when it is done by the civil authority and for murder or its equivalent, there is murder; and war is nothing more nor less than wholesale murder, at least on the part of 380 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. the aggressors. Those who make the war, not only intend to destroy life, and to destroy it by the whole sale, but they do it from the same " malice" afore thought" which constitutes murder in the judgment of all civilized nations. They are actuated by the same spirit of avarice, revenge, or lust of power which prompts the assassin, the duelist or the high way robber to imbrue his hands in the blood of his fellow man. When nations or communities have once engaged in mortal conflict, the -party assailed are too apt to catch the spirit of their assailants, and, according to the teachings of the Bible, become chargeable with murder in the sight of Heaven. It is time that the character of war, as one of the most horrid manifes tations of human depravity, and the immense respon sibility resting upon the originators and abettors of war was more seriously considered, and its suppres sion made as much of an object as the suppression of intemperance, or the spread of the Gospel. The friends of peace, or those who profess to be such, and especially professing Christians of every name, throughout Protestant Christendom, have never begun to do their duty on this subject, as a whole, or en masse. They have not even formed the purpose to do it. Although they were designed to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth, although they are taught in the Bible that their power of re sistance to evil will be increased ten or a hundred fold, in proportion to their numbers, they have never combined their kindly influence into one great undi- CAPTAIN WILLIAM CLARKE. 381 vided whole, and' fairly tried the effect of Gospel truth on this subject, enforced by their own warm and beneficent feelings. They have never spoken with a united, harmonious, unhesitating voice of re monstrance and in tones of strong affection, that would pervade the entire mass of humanity and" cause the war-making powers of the earth to feel the malignity of their murderous intentions, and to stand aghast at the enormity of their past wickedness. There is wanting, on the part of professing Chris tians and the friends .of peace, a clearer understand ing of the murderous character and destructive effects of war, a stronger confidence in the power of truth^ and a full determination to do their duty in the spirit of peace and good will. The course of procedure is a very obvious and simple one. It is just that in which Gospel truth is most successfully promulgated and in which any object of great and general interest is obtained, that is, by united, earnest and perseve- ing effort ; and this country has now greater advan tages for beginning the movement, than any other. At all events, we should like to see the experiment fairly and fully tried. We should like to see a strong, earnest appeal made to the rulers and poten tates of the earth on this subject, and backed by a petition with a list of signatures which would encircle the globe, bearing, at every point, a testimony, which all heaven would approve, and sending forth, in every direction, a benign influence which would soon make all the inhabitants of the earth rejoice. 382 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM AND THE REVENGE TAKEN BY THE WHIGS. The following facts were furnished by an intelli gent and highly esteemed friend, in that region, who has taken much pains to have them substantially correct; and they are given here as illustrative of the vindictive spirit, which then reigned in both parties, and of the deeds of reckless cruelty, which were then committed, every where over the country. As he only furnished the facts, I have not copied his language ; but have not exaggerated or altered the statements. Capt. Neill McCranie, who belonged to Colonel Armstrong's command, was stationed west of Fayetteville, near little Rockfish ; and kept the Tories, for some time, tolerably quiet ; and so did Colonel Mathew's, who was stationed on Crane's creek, in the lower edge of Moore county ; but the Tories ultimately got possession of the whole country, between the Cape Fear and Pedee rivers. Gates was defeated at Camden, and the British overran South Carolina. Many fled for safety from South Carolina and the Pedee country, into North Carolina and a number went on to the Whig region, on Neuse river. Among these, were Captain Culp, of South Carolina, Colonel Wade, of Anson county, and Archd. McKizic, of Ashpole, in Robeson county, whose son was taken prisoner, as above related, at McPherson's MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 383 Mill creek, and whose property was all destroyed before his return. After Cornwallis had gone north, and General Green into South Carolina, Colonel Wade and Cap tain Culp concluded that they would return home ; and before setting out, they loaded their waggons with salt and such other articles, as were needed most in the Pedee country. They crossed the Cape Fear, at Sproal's, now McNeill's ferry, in the after noon, and after going a few miles, took up camp for the night. That night or next morning, some of their men or hands, went off the road, and stole a piece of coarse cloth from Marren McDaniel, a poor servant girl, who had hired herself to a man by the name of John McDaniel. She had been unable to pay the weaver ; for the cloth was so coarse that he would take no part of it for pay, and he was about to retain the whole, until- payment was made, much to the grief of the poor girl; but old Daniel Munroe, being present, and seeing her troubles, paid the weaver, and let her take the cloth home. In the course of that night, John McNeill, son of Archd. and Jennet (Bann,) McNeill then living on Anderson's creek, having learned where this company of Whigs were, started out his runners to collect the Tories, many of whom were lying out in the swamps and other places, with directions for them to rendezvous the next night, at Long street, and pursue Wade. Next morning John McNeill went over to Colonel Folsone's (Whig,) and remained until sundown. He then mounted a, very fleet horse, joined the Tories at or a 384 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. little beyond Long street, and about an hour before day, came up with Wade and company, encamped on Piney Bottom, a branch of the Rockfish, and apparently all asleep except the sentinel. They con sulted and made their arrangements, got into order and marched up. The sentinel hailed them, but received no answer. He hailed them again, but received no answer. Duncan McCallum cocked his gun, and determined to shoot at the flash of the sentinel's gun. The sentinel fired, and McCallum shot at the flash. - One of Wade's men had his arm broke by a ball, and Duncan McCallum claimed the honor of breaking it. Then they rushed upon the sleeping company, just as they were roused by the fire of'the sentinel's gun, and shot down five or six of them but the rest escaped, leaving every thing behind them. A motherless boy, who had been taken by Colonel Wade as a protege, was asleep in one of the waggons, and being roused by the firing of the guns, and before he was fully awake, cried out, "Parole me! parole me!" Duncan Ferguson, a renegade deserter from the American army, told him to come out and he would parole him. He came out and dropped upon his knees, begging for his life ; but on seeing Feguson approaching him In a threatening manner he jumped up and ran. Ferguson took after him and Colonel McDougal after Ferguson, threaten ing him that if he touched the boy he would cut him down. Ferguson still ran on, however, until he over took the -boy, and then with his broad sword, split his head wide open, so that one half of it fell on one MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 385 shoulder and the other half on the other shoulder. The waggons were then plundered, the officers taking the money and the men whatever else they could carry away. There were two or three hundred of the Tories. All the McNeills (Bans) were there except Malcom. Wade and Culp had only a few men to guard their families, while they were returning home in a peacable manner ; and the fact that many of their guns were found without flints and unloaded, proves that they apprehended no danger. After plundering the waggons of everything, they burned them and carried away the iron traces. In a day or two, when the wood-work of the waggons was all consumed, some of the Tories returned and car ried away the tires and other irons. They pretended to bury the dead, but did it so slightly, that when Malcom Munro, Allen Cameron, Neill Smith and Philip Hodges, who had been sent out by Captain McCranie as a scout, came to the place, a few days after, they found three of them more or less exposed, having been scratched up by the wolves, and an arm of one of them was entirely out of the ground. This looked like extending their cruelty even to the dead, or, perhaps, they became suddenly alarmed for their own safety and fled ; but the Whig scout had them buried more decently, and covered the grave with logs, so as to protect it from beasts of prey. On his way home from the scene of his nocturnal slaughter and depredation, John McNeill called on his friend and neighbor, John McDaniel, and told him t an exploit they had performed, how much plun- 33 386 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. der, money and other things they found, and showed him a large piece of new cloth which he had got, and which he seemed to regard as a valuable prize. Poor Marren McDaniel, being present, siezed the cloth and claimed it as hers. She said she could prove it by the weaver and by old Daniel Munroe, who had paid the weaver for her. So the poor girl had her plundered web of cloth most unexpectedly returned to her, and this was perhaps, the only good which re sulted from that tragical affair. About sunrise next morning, after this murder and robbery, Captain Culp came to the house of old Mr. McLean, who lived at the ford on Rockfish. "Heigh!" said Culp, " how came you here ?" "Where else should I be but at my own house ?" was the reply. Culp said, " I thought you were at Piney Bottom last night." " Why, what happened at Piney Bottom ?" enquired McLean ; and Culp told him. Culp was riding a horse bare-backed and asked McLean for a saddle to ride home, which was readily granted. As soon as Wade and Culp reached home, they collected about one hundred dragoons, or mounted men, under Captain Bogan ; and they all came down swearing never to return until they had avenged the death of that murdered boy, who seems to have been a favorite with Colonel Wade and, in fact, with all that knew him. On Thursday evening they encamped on the pre mises of Daniel Patterson, the Piper, who lived on Drowning creek, but on the west side and, of course, in Richmond county. They caught the old man and MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 387 whipped him until he gave up the names of all who were at Piney Bottom, so far as he knew. Early on Friday, they crossed the creek and entered Moore county. They came first to old Kenneth Clarke's, now Duncan Blue's, and caught Alexander McLeod, who had come there on business and without any appre hension of danger. Having tied him securely and pinioned his arms behind his back, they put his little brother, John McLeod, a boy about eleven years of age, under guard and, leaving the guard there, they galloped down to John Clarke's, son of old Kenneth Clarke's, but finding no men at the house, they rode down to a small field, not far distant, where they found John Clarke, Daniel McMillan, Duncan Currie, Allen McSweene and an Irishman who was a British deserter and wore a red coat, all of whom were help ing John Clarke to make potato hills. Daniel Mc Millan and Duncan Currie had been at Piney Bottom, and accomplices in the massacre and plunder of Colo nel Wade's party. John Clarke and Daniel McMil lan had married sisters of Duncan Currie. All these were carried up, confined and pinioned, to old Kenneth Clarke's, where they had left Alex ander McLeod and his little brother, John McLeod, and there they were all kept under guard through the day, while the rest were going and coming, ap parently in search of others. They tortured the old man Black, very much, by beating him or slap ping him. with their swords, and screwing his thumb in a gun-lock, until the blood gushed out on each side, for the purpose of making him tell where his 388. REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. other sons were, but they could get nothing out of him. In the evening, a little before sunset, Captain Bogan, and some more of his men, came over the creek, and might have been a little intoxicated. At all events, he appeared to be in a great rage, and ordered the prisoners out from the side of the house to be put to death ; and as that much lamented boy at the Piney Bottom had been killed with the sword, it was determined that these prisoners should be put to death, by having their heads split open in the same way. Alexander McLeod was first taken out, and some one or more of the men, sitting on their horses and rising in their stirrups, struck him two or three times over the head with their swords ; but by throwing up his arms, by having on a thick wool hat, and by dodging his head, he prevented a death blow. On seeing this, the other prisoners jumped up and started to run, when the men on horseback shot McLeod, putting three musket balls into him, and he fell dead on the spot. They then commenced running after, and shooting the others, who were trying to make their escape. John Clarke, after having been shot, ran into the house and died immediately. Duncan Currie, in an effort to escape, had just got over a high fence, which was joined to a corner of the house, but Was shot down on the out side. Daniel McMillan came into the house begging for his life, with the blood streaming from his side, his hunting shirt on fire, where he had been shot in the shoulder, his .wrist cut and broken by a sword, MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 389 his arm shattered and torn by a musket ball, two or three balls having passed through his body; but re venge was not yet satisfied, and another ball through his breast near the left shoulder, soon put an end to his sufferings. Allan McSweene, was sitting on the lid of a pot in the chimney corner, and his wife with a child in her arms, was standing before him, in the vain hope of being able to conceal him from his ene mies ; but as he was not perfectly concealed, the boy, John McLeod went up and stood close by her side. On seeing this, one of the men jerked him away, and cocked his gun at him ; but another, more considerate, intercaded for him, and saved his life. - Some one also jerked the wife away prostrate on the floor, but gave no further harsh treatment. A man will make any effort in his power, however desperate, to save his life ; and so he ought, for it is a law or instinct of nature. McSweene then jumped up and ran, first to one door, and then out at the other, with his enemies in pursuit. His hands were tied before, and his arms were pinioned behind ; but, even when thus confined, and with, a last, desperate and almost preternatural effort to save his life, he leaped a pretty high staked and ridered fence which was round the house. Two guns were fired at him as he made the leap, still he ran about a quarter of a mile before they overtook him, and shot him down, putting several balls into his body, and then, having fallen on his face, they split his head open to the nose. Then charging old Mr. Clarke to have every corpse buried by the next evening, or they would 83* 390 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. come back and put him to death, they went away, and took the deserter with them, riding bare-backed with his hands tied, his arms pinioned, and his feet tied under the horse. After going two or three miles to the eastward, they encamped on a little creek, and remained there until Sabbath morning. The deserter was never heard of again; but as some guns were heard on that morning, and as some bones were found years afterwards, at or near the place of their encampment, no doubt could be entertained, that he was there put to death. Early on Sabbath morning, they left their camp ground, and came down to David Buchan's, where they found some trace chains, which had been taken from the Piney Bottom ; but not finding him at home, they set fire to the house, and then came on to old Kenneth Black's. He lived where Laughlin McKInnon now lives, but in the old field east of the creek. They surrounded the premises, but he and his son were lying out in a place of concealment, a quarter of a mile or more from the house. Culp and some of his men found them, and took them to the house." Both doors being open, the men rode into the house until it was full of horses, and the family were crowded up into the chimney. Having done so, they rode out, alighted, and commenced splitting some "light wood" to burn the house ; but concluded that they would first search it, which they did. On going up stairs, they found and broke open two large chests, belonging to the families of Captains Verdy, Nicholson and McRae, who were in the British MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 391 army, and who had left their families under the care of Mr. Black, as their houses were not far apart. One chest was filled with China ware, which they broke ; and the other was full of books, which they strewed over the fioor, having first cut open their backs, and. rendered them useless. At this time, the far-famed Flora McDonald lived four miles north of the scene which we have been describing, upon a plantation belonging to Mr. Black, on Little River, and the one on which his son, Malcom Black, now lives. Mr. Black's family having had the small pox, two daughters of Flora came over to see their friends and his family ; but, to their utter surprise, they found the Whigs there, who took the gold rings from their fingers and the silk hand kerchiefs from their necks : then putting their swords into their bosom, split down their silk dresses and, taking them out into the yard, stripped them of all their outer clothing. During all these transactions, one man was observ ed sitting near Colonel Wade, who, as well as the Colonel, seemed to pay no attention to what was doing, but looked serious and even melancholy. Mrs. Black asked him why he was not gathering up something to take away as well as the rest, to which he replied that he did not come there to plunder; for she had nothing that he wanted — "But, my son! my son !" was his abrupt and pathic exclamation, by which the impression made on her mind was that he was the father of that motherless little boy who was such a favorite of Colonel Wade and his company 392 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. and who had been so cruelly murdered shortly before in the Piney Bottom. Having collected their plunder and mounted their horses, just ready to start, Mrs. Black said to them, " Well, you have a bad companion with you." " What is that?" was the inquiry; and she replied, " the small pox." Instantly they threw down the blankets, clothing and every thing else of the kind that they had taken and rode off in great haste. They took Mr. Black along to pilot them down to Mr. Ray's ; but after going about half way, probably thinking there might be danger of getting the small pox from him, they told him he might return home. Some of the men proposed shooting him down ; but Culp told them to go On, while he stayed behind with Black for his protection. After going the distance of about a hundred yards, one of them turned round and fired at Black with his rifle ; but' the ball missed him and passed very near Culp's head, who ordered them, with a loud, stern voice to go on and behave themselves. They pursued their course then ; and when they got to the fork in the road, some went to Alexander Graham's, and some to Alexander Black's, the place on which the Honorable Laughlin Bethune now lives, at both of which places a similar course was pursued and with similar results. Whent hose who took the road to Squire Graham's came in sight of the house, there was one man out at the corn crib who slipped under it without being seen, and Archibald Peterson was sitting in the house by the fire who jumped into a bed at the MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 393 lower end of the house and drew the bed clothes over him. One of the young ladies then, with great presence of mind, took up a broom and stood by the bed-side, waiving it over him very deliberality,, as if keeping off the flies. When the men rushed into the house, they enquired, " where is such a man ? and where is such another man?" " She could not tell ;" but on observing her so gravely and deliberalety keeping the flies off the man in bed, they asked her what was the matter with the sick man ;. " The small pox:" — "well this is no place for us;" and they immediately started towards the door; but just at that moment they heard the firing of guns over at Alexander Black's, where the other party had gone. " There," they exclaimed, clapping their hands to gether, " there they have caught Alexander Black" Then mounting their horses, they galloped over to his house and found him dying. Taking the road now towards Rockfish, before they reached it. Captain Culp rode on a head to see and protect his old friend McLean. When the men arrived, he told them to pass on ; for, McLean not having been at the Piney Bottom, was his friend, and they must do no mischief there ; so they crossed the Bockfish and came to the house of Peter Blue, where they found him and Archibald McBride, and shot them both. Blue was badly though not mortally woun ded ; but McBride was shot dead on the spot. This was sorely to be lamented ; for McBride was a sound Whig, one of Captain McCranie's men and was then at home on parole ; but he was found in com- 394 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. pany with a man who had been at the Piney Bottom, and without any inquiry, or waiting for explanation, they recklessly shot him down. The Whigs, it must be admitted, had great pro vocation; but still most people will perhaps think that they carried their revenge too far, and that they let their resentment of a most wanton and atrocious act of cruelty control their judgment and their better feelings ; or we may suppose that their object was, .not merely to take revenge for the murders committed at the Piney Bottom, but to teach the Tories a lesson which they would not soon forget, and to make an impression which would deter them from ever attempting such a thing again. If this was their object, it may be said to have been accom plished ; for they were now both deterred and disabled. My correspondent says that the Tories were now under' dreadful apprehensions, believing that it was Wade's intention to scour the whole country and put every man of them to the sword. They were there fore greatly relieved In their feelings when his revenge seemed to be satisfied, and when he began to turn his course towards home. He turned down through the upper end of Robeson county and passed thence through the lower side of Richmond, by the Rockdale mills, into the Pedee country. At the Rockdale mills, there lived some free mu- lattoes by the name of Turner, who were Tories and very wicked. The troops engaged in this expedition, having been disbanded, and Captain Gulp having MASSACRE AT THE PINEY BOTTOM. 395 gone home, some of these mulattoes followed him to his own house, called him out at night, and accused him of whipping one of their brothers. He refused at first to come out, and they threatened to burn the house ; but still he refused, until they began to apply the fire ; then he came out between two young men, one on each side, holding them by the arms, and begging for his life ; but the Turners told the young men that, if they did not wish to share the same fate with Culp, they must leave him. They did so ; and he was immediately shot down in his own yard. It is said that they not only murdered him, but his family also, and then burned his house -which stood about a mile below Hunt's Bluff, Old Major Pon- cey's wife was Culp's daughter. After the close of the war. General Wade had John McNeill tried for his life on account of the robbery and murders committed at the Piney Bottom ; but he was acquitted, principally by the oath of Colonel Fol- som, who testified that John McNeill was at his house at or about sundown, the evening before the massacre. This made the impression on the minds of the jury that, considering the distance, it was not probable he could have been there by the time the attack was made ; but neither old Daniel Munro, nor Marren McDaniel, nor the weaver were called into court, either because they could not be found, or because it was not known that they were acquainted with any facts involved in the case. They could have testified that John McNeill had shown them the cloth next day, and told them that he got it at the Piney Bot- 896 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. tom, where they had killed so many of Colonel Wade's company the night before ; and by their tes timony he must have been condemned. Perhaps he had bribed them, and kept them concealed in some place where they could not be found, until the trial would be decided ; but however this may have been, from all these circumstances John McNeill was ever after known by the name of Cunning John. BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 397 BATTLE AT ELIZABETHTOWN, WITH ONE OR TWO SUBSE QUENT TRANSACTIONS, AND SOME ACCOUNT OF COLO NEL SLINGSBY, who COMMANDED THE TORIES ON THAT OCCASION. There was a noble band of Whigs on the Cape Fear, who, though few in' number, did good service in the cause of freedom, and who deserve from pos terity more honor than they have yet received. With the fearful odds of five or ten to one against then^ they adhered to their principles with heroic firmness, and in the darkest hour of gloom and depression, defended them with Spartan valor. Perhaps in no conflict during the war, so far at least as North Carolina was concerned, was there displayed more military skill, more boldness of enterprise, or more promptness and vigor of action, than by the Whigs of Cape Fear, in the battle of Elizabethtown. At this time, their prospects in that region were more gloomy than at any other period during the war ; and the difficulties in their way were apparently so insurmountable that none but men of strong nerves and brave hearts would have encountered them. When this enter prise was determined on with such daring courage, and crowned with such triumphant success, the Bri tish had possession of Wilmington, and were trying every scheme to extend their power and influence up the river. The Tories had Fayetteville virtually, if not actually, in possession ; and a body of them, con sisting of three hundred or more, under the command of Colonels Slingsby and Godden, two talented, brave 31 398 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. and vigilant officers, had taken post at Elizabethtown, the seat of justice for Bladen county. Thus over powered by numbers and left without succour from other parts of the State, the Whigs along the river had been plundered of their property and drLven from their homes to wander as fugitives in a land which they were toiling to redeem from oppression. About sixty of them had taken refuge in Duplin county ; and were suffering privations and hardships which men of sound principles and high aspirations could not pa tiently endure. Most of them were men of property, intelligence and tried patriotism ; but were now with out a shelter of their own, half starved and almost naked. Any set of men of their character and in their circumstances, would become desperate ; and they resolved that rather than bear it any longer, , they would attack their enemies in their strong hold, let the consequences be what they might. It was like going on a forlorn hope ; for when the venture was once made, they must conquer or die. Their enemies who were flve or six to one, were well pro tected, high-minded, and ably commanded. When they had once crossed the river, if unsuccessful, there could be no retreating in that direction before a powerful and exasperated foe. If they ^iJitempted to escape down the river, they would certainly be taken by the Tories and delivered up to the British. If they went to the south or west, the same fate awaited them ; but they bad strong confidence in the good ness of their cause, and their courage was adequate to the emergency. BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 399 Many of this heroic and patriotic band were very competent to command in any expedition of the kind ; for several of them were officers of some repute, and had been more or less, in actual service. "Col. Owen had fought at Camden ; Morehead had com manded the nine months' men sent to the south; Robeson and Ervin were the Percys of the Whig party; and Col. Brown had fought under Governor Tryon at the battle of Alamance. He had been wounded at the battle of the Great Bridge, under General Howe, near Norfolk, in Virginia :" and he had been actively engaged in military operations- during most of the war; or at least during the year previous, as will appear in another place. -In this expedition, so full of peril and of difficulty, the com mand was given to Col. Brown, probably as a cour tesy due to his greater experience in the military service, as well as to his age ; and nobly did he fulfil the expectations of his comrades. Having made their arrangements, and having col lected all the ammunition they could, they set off without tents or equipage and without any commis sary's stores except a little "jerked beef and bread," which they carried in their pockets ; and, after marching fifty miles through a dreary and desolate country, in July, 1781. , When they arrived, in the night, on the north bank of the Cape Fear, a little below Elizabethtown, there was not a boat to be found on that side of the river. Col. Slingsby was a man of too much good sense to leave any such means of annoyance within reach of his enemies, or to neglect 400 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. any preparations for defence that were within his power. As in all military encampments, guards and sentries were regularly posted ; no boats were suffered to remain on the other side of the river ; and, to all appearance, they were secured against any force then in the country. But the river must be crossed, or this heroic band of patriots would be disappointed of their object; and, if they failed in this enterprise, Elizabethtown, which was at the head of navigation on the Cape Fear, would become the stronghold of Toryism ; and that whole region, on many accounts so important to the cause of Independence, would soon be overrun by British troops. Some of the tallest amongst them, having made a trial by wading into the deepest parts, said it could gave a prompt and hearty assent. The preparation be crossed, and must be crossed ; to which all present for crossing was soon made by stripping off their clothes and tying them on their heads. Then grasp ing their guns by the barrel and turning up the breech so as to keep the lock above water, they reso lutely entered the stream ; and while the tallest had no difficulty, those who were of low stature could barely keep their mouths and noses above water; but they all got over safe. The Rubicon was now past and there was no retreat, nor was there any quailing or " weakness of knees" in that patriotic corps. Resuming th'eir dress and fixing their arms for action, they took up their line of march through the dense growth of lofty cane which then covered the low grounds. After ascending the precipitous BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 401 hill on the other side and crossing what was called the " King's Road," they halted for a few minutes to form themselves in order and prepare for the attack ; but everything had been so well arranged by the officer in command, and so well understood by every man in the corps that very little time was requisite for this purpose. Then, in about two hours after crossing the river, a mile below, they commenced a furious attack on the enemy, by driving in the sen tries and outposts; and, having made such an auspi cious beginning, they rushed on with increasing con fidence until they came in conflict with thejnain body which consisted chiefly of Highlanders, many of whom had been enured to the perils of warfare,. and all of whom were as brave, loyal, and high-minded as any of his Majesty's subjects. An onset so sudden and vio lent threw them for a moment into disorder ; but they were soon rallied by their gallant leader, and for a time made a most determined resistance. When their leaders fell, the rest soon gave way and the rout became general. In this affair, heroic courage and well-conducted stratagem were happily combined. Everything had been so well arranged by Col. Brown before they ventured within the precincts of danger, and the whole plan had been so well understood by every man belonging to the corps, that, even amidst the darkness of the night and the melee of battle, no mistakes were made, no jsetious disorder was produced, and the whole scene was enacted just as it had been previously designed ; but with less difficulty and in shorter time than they had anticipated. 34* 402 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. " After the first volley. Colonel Brown, with six officers who, for the want of a more appropriate word, maybe termed his staff; and among whom were those gallant spirits, Owen, Morehead and Robeson, took a central position, as previously arranged ; and the main body rushed to a point, at a specified distance, on his right, and reloaded with almost inconceivable rapidity. The words of command were then heard in loud and distinct tones. On the right ! Colonel Dodd's company ! Advance ! The main body advanced and fired. Then wheeling, rushed to a point on t^e left, and reloaded as before ; and the order was given in the same audible voice. On the left ! Colonel Gfillespie's company ! Advance ! The main body advanced and fired. Again. On the right ! Colonel Dickinson's coanp&nj I Advance! The main body advanced and fired, and wheeling, rushed to the designated point. Again. On the left 1 Major Wright's company ! Advance ! The main body advanced and fired. " This ruse de guerre was carried on until the Whig ' band was multiplied into ten or eleven companies. It succeeded in making an Impression on the garrison that it was attacked by a body of one thousand strong, led on by experienced officers. " The self-possefesion and the energy with which the orders were given, and the celerity and anima tion with which they were executed, under circum stances of recent fatigue and exposure, are almost unparalleled in history. During the time occupied in these evolutions, Colonel Brown, with his staff, BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 403 as I have called them, was improving accidents and making occasions for taking deadly aim. " There must have been a sublimity in the scene. The darkness of night, broken by a sheet of flame, at every successive volley of the Whig band ; the outcries and clamor; the disorderly firing of the Tories, the gallant efforts of Colonel Slingsby to restore order, and to form his lines ; his fall, so sanguinely desired by his enemies, and yet so much regretted by his friends ; and the total rout of the garrison, would, to a person not engaged in the con flict, if such a one could have been there, have pre sented a spectacle of horror which can be more easily imagined than described." The onset of the Whigs, which was at a late hour of the night, was so sudden and so unexpected, that the Tories were necessarily thrown into confusion ; and the assailants pursued the advantage thus gained with so much eagerness, and with such well conducted stratagem, that they had no time to rally. Some tried to shelter themselves in and around the houses, but were so hotly pursued that they were driven from every refuge. In concerting their plan, of operations, it had been agreed on by the Whigs, as a measure necessary to their success, that they would aim at the officers and prominent active men ; and, as this, like every other part of the scheme was strictly car ried out, the consequence was, that the officers were the principal sufferers. The number of killed and wounded, on either side, is not known ; but Godden was killed on the spot; Slingsby was so severely 404 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. wounded that he died the next evening ; and most of the subaltern officers were either killed or badly wounded. When their leaders fell, the men fled in every direction ; and many of them, probably the larger part, jumped into a deep ravine, which con cealed and protected them from their pursuers. With this place every one in that region is familiar ; and as the stranger floats down the Cape Fear, on any one of the boats which now ply its waters, when she comes opposite to the place, one and another of the crew or passengers exclaim, "There's the Tory Hole," which generally gives rise to an account of the battle, if there is any one present who can give it, and then to a good deal of pleasant chit-chat among the passengers. Of the character and circumstances of the com manding officers on the Tory side, we know very little ; and it is now too late in the day to get much informa tion that is reliable. Godden is said to have been a man of courage, activity and enterprise, who was well calculated for the post which he held as a parti- zan officer, and whose death was an irreparable loss to the royalists. Slingsby was talented and well . educated, amiable in his disposition and honorable in his principles. When the writer was down the Cape Fear, in 1852, he found that the name of Colonel Slingsby was still mentioned with much respect in that region, and by all classes of the community. The remark was frequently made that he had, while living, the respect of both parties, and that he deserved a better fate. After his death, the most BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 405 unequivocal testimony was borne to his worth, and the most gratifying respect was paid to his memory by the Whigs of that region. Nothing but dire necessity could have induced the Whigs on that occa sion to aim at his life; for, as a man, they esteemed him highly, and were not unmindful of his past favors ; but if they loved him they loved their country more. Col. Slingsby was an Englishman, and probably a native of London, where he is known to have had property. He marrigd there and engaged in busi ness ; but his wife having died in a short time after their marriage he emigrated to North Carolina and settled on the lower Cape Fear where he married a second time; and, before his death, had three children, two sons who died young, and a daughter who is still living. He had not been long in this country when the difficulties with the mother coun try commenced — not long enough to get clear of his early associations or of his English feelings and predilections; but these would not have induced him to take up arms against the country of his adop tion to which he was now bound by the strong ties of affinity and affection, if it had not been for the almost irrislstible influence which was exerted upon him. So strongly did he feel opposed to fighting or doing any thing against his adopted country that, after having positively. refused the offer of a commis sion, he had engaged passage for himself and family back to England; but was met by a commission, we presume from Governor Martin, which was almost 406 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. forced upon him. From the Journal of the Provin cial Congress, it seems that he was taken prisoner at the battle of Moore's Creek or very soon after and carried to Halifax ; but whether this was before or after receiving his commission as Colonel, I have not learned. He was however soon discharged, and returned to his family, when we hear no more of him until we hear of his death. When his daughter grew up she married the Rev. William Bingham who, having devoted- himself to the business of teaching, after trying two or three other places, located himself in Orange county, near the Cross Road Church, where for many years he kept a classical school of high repute. He died a number of years ago highly esteemed by all who knew him and with the comfortable prospept of a blessed im mortality. His sons William and John Bingham, have followed in his steps and have done more perhaps, for their age, to raise the standard of classical education than any other men in the country. His widow, the daughter of Col. Slingsby, is still living with some of her children in western Ten nessee; and, in addition to the gratification of knowing that her descendants are among our most' estimable and useful citizens, is enjoying a comfort able old age and the respect of a large circle of friends and acquaintances. Colonel Slingsby is said to have been a pious man ; and, according to the promises of the Bible, and the general experience of the church, the blessings of divine grace seem to BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 407 thus far descended, without any dimunition, upon his offspring in their successive generations. While the colonies had no other design than to ob tain a redress of grievances, he appears to have co operated heartily with them, but his mind was not prepared for independence or a separation. He had taken the oath of allegiance himself, and he knew that most of the colonists, especially in that region, had done the same. Believing, therefore, that the welfare of the country depended on its connexion with Great Britain, and that the people owed allegi ance to the King which, being enforced by the highest sanctions, they could not violate without sub jecting themselves to the displeasure of heaven, he abhorred the idea of rebellion under such circum stances, and held bg-ck when measures were taken for a separation ; but feeling, as a British subject, that they had the right of petition and remonstrance, and whatever else could be done without an actual rup ture of the ties which bound them to the established government, with patriotic feelings and honesty of purpose, he appears to have united with them in all their measures, until the commencement of actual hostilities. This is not a matter of conjecture or in ference on the part of the writer, for there is .docu mentary proof showing the confidence which, at that period, his fellow-citizens placed in him, and his readiness to co-operate with them in their measures of defence. For the following paper, I am indebted to Gov. Swain, and I have no doubt that it will be read with interest. 408 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. "At an occasional meeting of the Wilmington Committee, Nov. 20th, 1775, we find Col. Slingsby appointed on a Committee for taking measures to secure the town against the invasion of the British, as appears by the following extract from their records. " The Committee taking into consideration the danger with which the inhabitants on Cape Fear river, are threatened by the King's ships, now in the harbor, and the open and avowed contempt and vio lation of justice, in the conduct of Governor Martin, who, with the assistance of the said ships, is endea voring to carry off the artillery, the property of this Province, and the gift of his late Majesty of blessed memory, for our protection from foreign invasions, have "Resolved, That Me'^srs. John Forster, William Wilkinson and John SliiVgsby, or any one of them, be empowered to procure necessary vessels, boats and chains, to sink in such parts of the channel as they, or any of them, may think proper. To agree for the purchase of such boats and other materials as may be wanted ; and to have them valued, that the owners may be reimbursed by the public." According to my information, which is considered reliable, he often, and as far as he could, protected the property of his Whig neighbors; and on one oc casion at least, he saved the life of a Whig at the risk of his own. A body of Tories, whether of his own men or another party, is not now distinctly re collected, having come on this man in the house of a BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 409 neighbor, were about to take his life, when Col. Slingsby, coming in at the moment, interposed, and told them they must not kill him ; but when they showed a determination to accomplish their purpose, -he stepped up to the man where he stood by the wall, and, turning his face to the assailants, told them that if they killed that man, naming him, they must kill him first. This had the intended effect, and he did not leave his friend until he got him placed beyond the reach of those who were thirsting for his blood. Many anecdotes of a similar kind, I am told, are, or were for a long time current over that region ; and, probably, they might be gathered up yet, by taking a little pains, for the traditionary incidents of that period had such a thrilling interest, and occurred under circumstances of such an impressive character, that it will be long before they can be entirely for gotten among such a people. But I have in my possession, an account of Col. Slingsby, which was written by one of his descendants, a grand-daughter, who is well known and highly re spected in the country, and which I take pleasure in giving to the public. Although it was not written for the press, as the reader will perceive at once, yet it is written with so much frankness, simplicity of style, and manifest freedom from any disposition to exaggerate, that I prefer giving it in her own words. When .all of us and the descendants of those who were actors, on either side, in the perilous scenes of that day, are under such strong temptations to pre sent the character and deeds of their ancestors in 35 410 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. the best possible light, we are pleased to find one whose candor and modesty make us feel that what we are reading is the simple truth, so far at least as it was known to the writer. The account was writ ten at my request, and was intended merely to fur nish the facts for me to use in whatever way I might think proper, and such was then my design ; but I have no doubt that the reader will be more gratified with its perusal in the original form ; and we feel confident that in this we are doing the writer no wrong, or, at all events, if it is taking a little more liberty than courtesy would dictate, that it will not be regarded as an unpardonable offence. " Colonel John Slingsby, was an Englishman by birth, and I suppose from London, as he is known to have had possessions there. His age is not known, but he came to this country after the death of his first wife, who lived only a short time after their marriage. He married in Bladen county, Mrs. McAllister, a native of Scotland, whose maiden name was Isabella McNeill ; and by her he had a daughter and two sons. The sons died young. The daughter, Mrs. Bingham, widow of the Rev. William Bingham, is stiM alive in Tennessee. The Slingsby whom you mentioned as having been taken prisoner, must have been the same, as I have always heard that there was no other of that name in this country. " Soon after hostilities commenced between the colonies here, and the mother country, a commission was offered to Mr. Slingsby, but he refused it, say ing that, " although he believed the English cause BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 411 to be just, he had no wish to fight against his adopted country ;" and he had engaged a passage for himself and family back to his native land, when a commis sion was almost forced upon him. He was brought up a Quaker, and joined the Church of England, after he became a man. Perhaps, this may account in part, for his unwillingness to fight ; but he had taken the oath of allegiance before he left England, and being a conscientious man, he felt bound by his oath. He was never in the regular British army, but commanded, what we call, a band of Scotch Tories ; and had been from home only a few days, when he was wounded in the throat at Elizabethtown. He was treated very kindly by the Whig officers, who had his wounds dressed, and took him to his plantation. Finding that his wife was in Wilming ton, they took the family boat, and set off for that place, but he died before reaching it. When his property was confiscated, the Whig officers bought a valuable plantation and some of the negroes, and gave them to his wife. She received a pension from the English government during her life. Mr. Slingsby, was a merchant, and a man of character, talent and refinement. I have a confused recollection of many things which I heard in my youth, but of which I could now give no correct account. There is one thing however, which I do distinctly remember, to have heard from two old gentlemen — Mr. Manly and Mr. Grove — which is, that Colonel Slingsby, often protected the lives and property of his Whig neigh bors. And I have met with a Whig soldier, who 412 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. was In the skirmish at Elizabethtown, and saw the Colonel's wound dressed, who gave him the same character. "I recollect an instance which, though a little thing in itself, may serve to illustrate his character. A party of Tories came to the house of an old man, by the name of McLaughlin, who took him, bound him, and had their muskets ready to shoot him, when Colonel Slingsby happened to come over, and' interceded for the old man's life ; but not being able to succeed in that way, he resolutely placed himself between him and the guns, and told them, " that if they shot McLaughlin, it should be through his body." They let him go. This was before he had entered the service. " The anecdote of the Methodist preacher, which you wished me to relate, I had from the old gentle man's own lips. Mr. O'Kelly, then a young Metho dist preacher, when travelling over the country and preaching, was taken at the house of a friend or ac quaintance, by a small party of Tories. His horse, saddle and saddle-bags were taken from him, and he was tied to a peach tree. A party of Whigs coming up just at the time, a skirmish ensued ; and although, he was between the two fires, he was not hurt. Be fore this skirmish was ended. Colonel Slingsby came up with a larger party of men, and the Whigs were dispersed. Recognizing O'Kelly, the Colonel asked him to preach for them, which he did, and, drawing up his men in good order, he stood with his head uncovered, during the whole of the service. Mr. 413 O'Kelly said, when relating this anecdote to me, ' Ah, child ! your grandfather was a gentleman.' An old lady who was well acquainted with Mr. O'Kelly, tells me, that the man at whose house he was taken, was also taken, bound to the same tree, and killed in the skirmish. She had heard him re late the anecdote frequently — I, only once. " I know of no one now, from whom any further information could be obtained. More than twenty years ago, when in Robeson and Richmond coun ties, I met with several old men, who had been well acquainted with Colonel Slingsby, and they all spoke of him as a humane, honorable and generous hearted man. They were all members of the Presbyterian church, and some of them had been under his com mand. "I do not wish you to use my name as I Intended merely to furnish you with the facts, and let you clothe them yourself." May llth, 1853. The battle of Elizabethtown, near the close of the war, was regarded by the people in that region as next in importance to the one at Moore's creek, in the beginning ; and it is much to be regretted that an account of it was not written at the time or before the most intelligent of the men who were prominent actors in the scene were called away from this stage of action. It turned the tide of victory and broke the power of the Tories. The Whigs became ani mated with hope, and the others were sunk in des- 35* 414 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. pondence. Such was the impression made upon them by their defeat on this occasion, and by the loss which they sustained, that, although they had entire sway from the Cape Fear to the Pedee, they made very few efforts afterwards, and they were not of a formi dable kind. Many of them, under the apprehension that further movements of an aggressive kind would be made by the Whigs, fled for refuge to Wilming ton, then in posesssion of a British force, under the command of Major Craig ; but the Whigs knew well that if left to concert and prosecute their measures without "let or hindrance," the effects of their late victory would be all lost, and they would have their work to do over again. They were, therefore, on the alert, and were taking measures to confine the operations of the enemy, or to prevent them from doing mischief. For this purpose a small encamp ment was formed a few miles above Wilmington, under the command of Colonel Leonard, which was rather a hazardous move ; but it was dispersed by a detachment of the British, -which was sent up for the purpose. The account of this affair, which was pub lished first in the Raleigh Register, and copied from that into Wheeler's History of North Carolina, Is one of some interest, as illustrative of the perils and sufferings to which the patriots of that day were sub ject, and we will give it at full length in the words of the author. " Upon the dispersion of the Tories in that suc cessful sortie at Elizabethtown, above referred to, by the handful of Whigs under Captain, afterwards BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTO-\VN, ETC. 415 General, Brown, many of the Tories fled for refuge to Wilmington, then in ipossession of the British, under the command of Major Craig, while a portion of that same Spartan Whig band, joined by a few other choice spirits of the county of Brunswick, under the command of Colonel Leonard, formed an encampment above Vfilmington, and not far from the river, for the purpose of cutting off supplies from being carried by the Tories to the enemy, and to prevent their own and their neighbors' slaves from flocking down to the British camp, and for general and mutual protection. " This encampment was a source of great annoy ance and vexation to the British commander, and the object of special hatred and revenge to his new recruits, who had just been so handsomely whipped at Elizabethtown. It was resolved at head-quarters that this encampment should be broken up, and a large force was immediately detached on this service. A portion of them was sent up the main road, and were to wait in ambush at a bridge on a stream then known as Hood's creek, not far below the camp, while other companies, under the guide of one of these Tories, who well knew the passways and situa tions of the country, were to be conducted and piloted above, so as effectually to surround the camp and cut off retreat. Orders were given in the hear ing of the guide, to the chief officer of this expedi tion, to show no quarters, but to put to instant death every Whig that should be found with arms in their 416 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. hands After early night fall this band set out on their murderous errand. " Upon hearing these savage and blood-thirsty orders, their guide relented. Many of the men who Avere in that camp had been his near neighbors and friends, had often done him acts of kindness, and his heart quailed at the contemplation of the scene before him, and his inhuman instrumentality In having them cut off and butchered. Accordingly, after leaving the main road, he feigned to be lost, and purposely avoiding the right track, he kept them wandering in the woods from swamp to swamp, until, as he sup posed, sufficient time would elapse for the camp to have notice of the approach of the direct force, and be enabled to make good their retreat. " The Whig force did not exceed thirty, and were chiefly mounted men ; planters and men of character and substance. They had finished their scanty sup per, had secured their horses for the night, and with their saddles for a pillow, and their saddle-blankets for a bed, they had lain down to rest, unconscious of their danger and of the horrible destiny that had been prepared for them. " The British force had In the meantime arrived at the bridge and were anxiously awaiting the signal for their onset. The night passed on, and yet no sound was heard. They became impatient, and gave a blast from their horn to apprize their comrades of their presence and of their readiness to receive their response. The sound was heard in the Whig camp. "What noise is that?" said a dreamy sentry, as he BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 417 paced his lonely rounds. "Oh, nothing," said another, " but the trumpet of some lubberly boat man." Another, and another blast, louder and louder, is given. The camp is aroused. " No boat man belonging to these waters," said one, " can make that noise ; they are the notes of the Kent bugle, and in the hands too of a practised master." " They proceed from down the road, and from about the bridge," said the officer in command. " That place must be reconnoitered. We must know what all that means. Who will volunteer and go down?" No one spoke. " Come, Manly," said he, "you are always ready in a forlorn hope, and that fine black charger of yours can outrun danger itself;, will you go?" "Aye, aye, sir," said Manly; "who will go with me to bring back the news if I should lose my night cap ?" " I, I, I," said Mansfield and two young Smiths. Their horses were soon caparisoned and mounted, their holsters examined, and away they galloped to the bridge. Upon their arrival, every thing was as quiet and silent as death. They could neither see nor hear any one, but their horses exhibited alarm and refused to proceed. "All right on this side," said Manly: "let us see howit~is on the other;" and thrusting their spurs into their horses' sides, they dashed across the birdge. As soon as they had cleared it, up rose the British and Tories from their concealment on each side of the road, their muskets and bayonets gleaming in the moonlight ; and as these men turned their horses to retreat, the officer in command sung out, " Give 418 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. it to them," and a platoon of musketry fired upon them. The top of Manly's hat was shot away. One of the Smiths was badly wounded, his horse shot down on the bridge, and in falling caught his rider under him ; and the British, as they passed, perforated the body of the poor fellow with their bayonets, and commenced a running pursuit. The camp, in the meantime, had heard the firing, the guide was still lost in the swamps, and all but poor Smith made good their retreat. Thus this gallant band of chivalrous and devoted spirits, through an almost miraculous intervention of an over-ruling Providence, escaped the well planned stratagem projected for their heart less and cold-blooded massacre, and were spared to their families and country." " The names of the men concerned in this affair are well known along the Cape Fear; and their descendants are occupying their place with respecta bility and usefulness. Colonel Thomas Owen, was the father of the late Governor Owen and of General Owen, who is now living in Wilmington, and is highly esteemed by all who know him. " He was a warm hearted friend, generous to a foe, and as brave a soldier as ever wore a sword." "Morehead was a tall, thin man, of mild and amiable temper. He lived near Elizabethtown, and died of consumption. Manly, who held a captain's commission, and was an active partlzan officer in the militia during the war, removed to the back country, and settled in the county of Chatham, where he was distinguished BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN, ETC. 419 through a long life, for the strictest integrity and unflinching firmness." The account of the transactions at Elizabethtown, and lower down the Cape Fear, except what relates to the character and history of Colonel Slingsby, has been taken, substantially, from the Wilmington pa pers and Wheeler's History ; but I have not copled^it verbatim, only in part. To those who love to con template the toils and sufferings, the patriotic spirit and heroic deeds of our forefathers, the facts will be interesting, though the style may not be attractive. What the writer has here given, is only a specimen of the confiicts and deeds of cruelty, or of patriotic devotion to the cause of freedom, which, for two or three years, were frequent in that region ; but they cannot be detailed in this volume, without transcend ing the limits assigned. 420 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. FREDERICK GOSS. During the latter period of the war, though the precise date is not recollected, a number of Tories came to the house of Frederick Goss, who lived in what is now Davidson county, about ten miles south east from Lexington ; and plundered it of all the bed clothing, about seventy yards of homespun cloth, with whatever else they could find that was worth carrying away, and a young and valuable horse. Frederick Goss and his son, Jacob Goss, then only fifteen or sixteen years of age, with a bound boy, by the name of Alexander Slader, were in a field, at some distance from the house, pulling fiax ; and when the Tories went to the field for the purpose of making them prisoners, Slader hid himself in the flax, so he escaped their notice. Frederick Goss, being some what advanced in life, was not made a prisoner ; but they took his son, Jacob Goss, who was the father of Jacob Goss, Esq., now one of the special court in Davidson county. They carried away Jacob Goss , as a prisoner, and his young horse, with the plunder which they had taken in and about the house. After night they took the w,hole to a Tory camp, which was distant from any road and in a very secluded place, where they were about to tie Jacob ; but one of their number, having some acquaintance with Jacob, per suaded them not to bind him. There came up during the night a hard rain, and they all got very wet. When it was over they made a large fire for the pur pose of drying themselves, and on becoming dry, FREDERICK GOSS. 421 they all fell into a sound sleep, when Jacob went to his young horse, cut him loose, and then jumping on his back, he whipped off and got home safe. The neighbors were soon raised and went in pursuit. Before going far they were informed that the Tories, their enemies, had forded the river near Massey's ferry, which was not far from the confluence of the Uwharic and Yadkin rivers. The Whigs were led or commanded by Captain Azariah Merrill, and before getting to the river he met a man who told him that they had crossed. Being conducted by him they went over, and soon came upon the Tories, where they had halted and were lying by. Merrill had a strong company, and leaving them behind, with orders suited to any contingency that would be likely to occur, he went forward himself to reconnoitre, or try if he could discover their precise location. When, passing a hollow or ravine, he came upon one of their sentinels, who raised and cocked his gun ; but Captain Merrill shot him down before he had time to fire. This brought on a general skirmish, which was severe but short. Not one of the Whigs, how ever, was killed, and only one wounded, by a ball in the thigh ; for the Tories were attacked so suddenly and furiously, that they were not able to get into any kind of order, and could take no deliberate aim. The Tories, it seems," gave only one fire, and that was scattering, or given very much at random, until they fled, and took the boat at Massey's ferry with the intention of returning, to what is now the David son or Montgomery side of the Yadkin ; but the 36 422 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. Whigs were firing on them all the way as they rowed across, and they kept jumping out into the water until not more than four or five remained in the boat when it landed. A number of the Tories were killed and some of those who jumped Into the river were - drowned. This made peaceable times in that region of country, and only one man was killed by the Tories from this time to the close of the war. A man, by the name of John Cornelison, who lived near the lead or silv"er mines in Davidson county, was killed in his own house, and in a manner which indicated great barbarity. When several of them went in and fell upon him with clubs and swords, he got back under the mantel-piece, when they shot him down, and he fell into the fire; but his wife pulled him out. Next morning, Mrs. Ann Briggs, the mother-in-law of Jacob Goss, Esq., who was originally a Miss, Collins, from the neighborhood of Wilming ton, went over and saw the body of Cornelison. The hearth was deluged with blood, and the house pre sented a most frightful scene. The man who shot Cornelison was known, and Cornelison had a relation by the name of Spirey, who was determined to revenge his death. He pur sued the Tory who shot Cornelison, and followed his trail into Tennessee. At length he reached the house of a woman who was a relation of his ; and thinking himself out of danger, he stopped there for the night ; but Spirey was there and, with the stealthlness of an Indian, was watching round the house, when he heard the murderer tell his relation, FREDERICK GOSS. 423 the mistress of the house, that he would pull off his clothes to sleep ; for he had not had them off since he left North Carolina. While he was stripping and preparing for bed, Spirey, being certain of his man, run the muzzle of his gun through a crack or opening between the logs, and shot him dead. Spirey then returned to his home in North Carolina ; and this affair was the last of the kind that occurred during the struggle for independdfeee. Such scenes present to us the horrors of civil war in a strong light, and while they were the price of our liberties, they should serve as a perpetual warning to guard, most vigi lantly and strenuously, against every thing of the kind to the end of time. 424 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. WILLIAM CUMMINGS & CO. Towards the close of the year 1780, probably in the month of December, William Cummings, John Faddis and William Crabtree, citizens of Hillsboro', went out one morning before day on a fox hunt, and to avoid as much as possible, the danger of falling into the hands of enemiffsf they went into a section, six or eight miles east or northeast from the village, where the people were nearly all in favor of indepen dence ; for, at that time when the Tories were nearly everywhere so impudent and so confident of success, such a small party could not go into any other than a Whig neighborhood without running a great risk of being killed or taken prisoners. A little after sun rise, being very cold and hungry, they concluded they would call at the house of Thomas Couch, to warm themselves and get something to eat. As Couch was well acquainted with them, and withal a good friend to his country, he received them kindly and treated them as well as he could. Having attended to their horses and given directions for breakfast, he asked them to walk with him to his hog-pen, a hundred or a hundred and fifty steps from the house, and see his hogs that he had up fattening for his winter's meat. Faddis and Crabtree accepted the invitation; but Cummings thought he would be more comfortable by the fire ; and, as the female part of the family were out in the kitchen preparing breakfast, he was left for the time being, to amuse himself with his own medi- WILLIAM CUMMINGS & CO. 425 tatlons on the forthcoming breakfast or anything else he chose. There was a man living in the neighborhood, two or three miles off, by the name of Jake Bracken, who was a zealous royalist, and was always ready to im prove any opportunity that occurred for aiding the cause of his master. He had come over that morn ing, either incidentally or on an errand, or, more probably, had been sneaking about to see what disco veries he could make. They were all of them well and intimately acquainted with Bracken, or had been before such an animosity existed between the royalists and the friends of liberty. Though unob served himself, and perhaps had studiously kept him self out of view, he had been where he saw the fox hunters when they arrived, and could also perceive ho-w many went to the hog-pen and how many remained. Determined to improve the opportunity of doing something that would recommend him to the royal favor, he entered the house very slyly, and stepping up softly to Cummings, who was sitting with his back towards the door and his face to the fire, apparently absorbed in his own sage reflections and not dreaming of any danger, laid his hand on his shoulder, and saying as he did so, you are my prisoner, sir, and you must come alongwith me forth with. Cummings, who was a man of a ready turn and a very jocose disposition, looked up at him, not at all disconcerted, and said to him with a pleasant laugh, " Why Jake, you must be joking, I have not had my breakfast yet, and I cannot go without that !" 36* 426 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. There was no time to be lost, and he replied with an air of positiveness which left no room to doubt, " No William, you know me well enough not to indulge any such thought. I am not joking but in good, solid earnest, and you must come along at once, without another moment's delay or hesitation." "Very well," said Cummings, "if I must go, let us be off;" and, so saying, he arose briskly to his feet and started along with him or close behind ; but recollecting at the lucky moment, that when he had went into the house, he had hung his hunting horn to a nail on the out side of the door-post, and as he stepped over the threshold, he jerked that down, and putting it to his mouth, gave it a few blasts, toote, toote, toote, which roused up the hounds from their slumbers in the cor ners of the fence, and in a minute, or less, they all came yelping round him, as much as to say, " We are at your service, sir, and would be glad to have an opportunity of doing something right clever before we go home." The men at the hog-pen, concluded from the sound of the horn, so earnest and so quickly repeated, that there must be something in the wind, and they came with all possible expedition ; but when the dogs came up, expressing such a hearty good will to do the bidding of their master, Jake found himself in rather a "bad box," and "took to his scrapers," down the lane. He had not gone many rods, however until Cummings gave the hounds the signal, and the whole pack took after him, opening altogether as if they were within a few jumps of a run down fox, and stimulated to the utmost of their WILLIAM CUMMINGS & CO. 427 speed by the well-known voice of their master. Mr. Cummings always loved to tell this anecdote, espe cially when in company with his friends, or when he got in the spirit of talking with any one about revo lutionary times, and he would generally add, that it was the finest race he ever saw, until Jake had to take a tree at the end of the lane, where the dogs kept him as safe as a coon, until the men came up. He was then taken prisoner, carried to Hillsboro', and lodged in jail. Without adopting the old Latin maxim, that " fortune favors the brave," we may say that a kind Providence favors the good, or those who are heartily engaged in a good cause, and this impor tant lesson may be read all through the history of the revolutionary war, in characters too legible to be mis taken, and in the minutest as well as in the most important events. 428 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. LEWIS BOWELL. While the British army, when on its way to Wil mington, after the Guilford battle, lay encamped for a day and a night on Haymount at the west end of Cross creek, now Fayetteville, on the ground at pre sent occupied by the United States arsenal and a number of private dwellings. During this time the soldiers, in, little squads, ranged through the village, gratifying their curiosity or their propensity to plun der ; and in these plundering operations, as usual with the British army wherever it went, the Whig portion of the community were the principal sufferers. The soldiers, whenever they could, seemed to take a malicious pleasure in wantonly destroying the pro perty and distressing the families of those who were in favor of independence ; and numberless acts of cruelty and of an inhuman disregard to the safety and comfort of the helpless, were committed over the country, which were utterly inconsistent with the boasted honor and magnanimity of the British nation. Belonging to the Whig class of the citizens in Cross creek at this time, was a little Dutchman, by the name of Lewis Bowell, who kept a bakery and did a very fair business in his way. If his was not the only establishment of the kind in the place, it was the most popular, and got the run of the custom. As he did a prosperous business he bought his flour by the barrel; and when the flour was consumed the LEWIS BOWELL. 429 empty barrel was put up stairs, or " on the loft," as it was termed ; and the stock of empty barrels had accumulated until the upper story of his little frame dwelling was nearly full. A squad of soldiers, while ranging about in every direction, ready to seize upon any thing that would gratify their avarice, their vanity or their gastronomical propensities, on seeing the sign, bakery, in large letters over the door, thought this must be the very place for them, and forthwith entered the house without leave or license. Whether they were aware of his position on the politi cal arena is not known, nor is it a matter of any importance. All men love good eating ; and, in order to quiet the clamors of a "barking stomach," will fight harder, and show a more reckless disregard of friends and foes than for any thing else. Having been so much harassed along the first part of their retreat, and having marched for the last fifty miles over an uninterrupted stretch of sand hills and pine barrens, where, if there was ever any thing good for man or beast, it had doubtless been destroyed by the recent conflicts between the Whigs and Tories, probably no sight could now be more grateful to them than a well furnished baker's shop. However this may have been, the temptation was not an ordinary one to them ; and whether impelled by the cravings of hunger, or by their lawless habits of plunder, they were not disposed to lay any restraint upon themselves. While they were ranging through the house in every direction, as chance or caprice led the way, some into one apartment and some into another, two 430 REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. or three concluded that they would go up stairs and try their luck there. As Lewis Bowell, though an honest Whig, was no fighting character, and when the British army entered Cross creek, he found him self in a perilous condition. If it was not more con genial to his disposition, it was certainly more in his line of business to let others fight the battles of free dom, and for him to follow his trade and furnish them with the staff of life ; but now the enemy had come to his door and something must be done. If he remained there he expected nothing else than to be seized by them, and perhaps be put to death as a rebel. If he attempted to escape, he would cer tainly fall into the hands of the Tories, who would, beyond all question, deliver him up to the British. In this dilemma he hit upon an expedient which, if it did not succeed just as he wished, resulted more per haps to his satisfaction. He had made his wife, a few hours before, head him up in one of the empty barrels ; and this barrel, as the room was nearly full, stood not more than a few feet from the head of the stairs. When the two or three soldiers, already noticed, ascended to the top, the foremost one took hold of the first barrel he came to; and, supposing that it con tained fiour, as it felt heavy, he threw it on Its side and gave it a kick with his foot, which sent it rolling down the stairs ; but when it came to the platform, or turn in the stairs, it struck against the side of the house with such force that it burst open, when, lo, and behold, the little Dutchman sprung to his feet. LEWIS BOWELL. 481 and stood up in his full dimensions, as Minerva issued from the head of Jupiter, and exclaiming at the top of his voice, " Lewis Bowell ! Py Got, true Whig from de start. I'd as lief die as live." .Such an utterance, made with all the earnestness which the occasion demanded, and accompanied with gesticula tions indicative of a most desperate resolution, struck the batch of "red coats" with a kind of panic; and, supposing that every barrel contained a " true Whig from the start," they all moved off in short order, leaving Lewis Bowell in quiet possession of his empty barrels, and of whatever else they had not already eaten or destroyed. They never found out their mis take ; or if they did, before they had time to soothe their mortified feelings, by committing violence on his person or further depredations on his property, the army took up the line of march, and they were borne away, some to find an untimely grave at Yorktown, and the rest to a returnless distance from the Ame rican shore.