AFFAIRS BEGIN TO DRAW TO A HEAD. PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE. A PICTURE OF
THE TWO ARMIES.
After leaving Gilbert-town, Campbell moved steadily toward the point at
which he proposed to meet Williams, and by night-fall had accomplished
about one half of the journey. The march furnished Henry Lindsay
unalloyed pleasure. Every incident belonging to it awakened the fancies
which he had indulged in reference to military life, and he was
delighted in the contemplation of this actual accomplishment of some of
the many dreams of glory which his boyish romance had engendered at
home. Besides, being a favorite of those in command, he was allowed to
ride in the ranks whenever it suited his pleasure, and to amuse himself
with what subject of interest the journey afforded; whilst, at the same
time, he found his personal ease so much attended to as to leave him but
little room to complain of the discomfort or toil of the campaign.
The night was spent in the woods, and it was scarcely daybreak, when the
exhilarating though harsh clamor of the horns summoned the troops to the
renewal of their journey, which was pursued until the afternoon, when,
about four o'clock, they reached the border of the tract of country
known as the Cowpens. Afar off, occupying a piece of elevated ground,
Campbell was enabled to descry a considerable body of cavalry, whose
standard, dress, and equipment, even at this distance, sufficiently made
known to him their friendly character,--a fact that was immediately
afterwards confirmed by the report of some videttes, who had been
stationed upon the road by which Campbell advanced. A brief interval
brought the two parties together, and the force of the allied bands was
thus augmented by the addition of our gallant friend Williams, at the
head of four hundred sturdy companions.
"Make a short speech of it," said Shelby, addressing Williams, after
that officer had ridden into the circle of his comrades, and had
exchanged with them a friendly greeting, "you have been busy,
fellow-soldier, whilst we were waiting to see the grass grow. What has
become of the runaway?"
"He left this spot but yesterday," replied Williams; "Ferguson has
something of the bull-dog in him: his retreat, now that he is forced to
it, is surly and slow; he stops to snarl and growl as if he defied us to
follow him. If he had but stood his ground here, we should have had him
in as pretty a field as one might desire. Devil thank him for his
prudence! But he is now at the Cherokee Ford of Broad river--so I
conjecture, by the report of my scouts--hard upon thirty miles from
here, on his way towards Charlotte."
"Say you so?" exclaimed Campbell; "then, by my faith, we have no time to
lose! Gentlemen, we will rest but an hour, and then to it, for a night
march. Pick me out your best men and stoutest horses; leave the footmen
behind, and the weakest of the cavalry. This fellow may take it into his
head to show his heels. If I can but tread upon the tail of the
copperhead with one foot, he will throw himself into his coil for
fight,--that's the nature of the beast,--and after that, if need be, we
can threaten him until all our force arrives. Shelby, look to the
immediate execution of this order."
"That's glorious, sergeant," said Henry, who, with his companion,
Robinson, had stolen up to the skirts of the circle of officers during
this conference, and had heard Campbell's order. "I am of this party,
whoever goes. Colonel Campbell," he added, with the familiarity of his
privilege, "the Rangers are ready for you, at any rate."
"There's a mettlesome colt," said Campbell, laughing and speaking to the
officers around him, "that bird shows fight before his spurs are grown.
Pray, sir," he continued, addressing Henry, "what command have you?"
"I consider myself answerable for the second platoon of the Amherst
Rangers," replied Henry, with a waggish sauciness, "and they march this
night, whatever happens."
"You shall serve with me in the staff, master," said Campbell,
playfully, "such fiery young blades must be looked after. Get your men
ready; you shall go, I promise you."
Henry, delighted at the notice he had received, rode off with alacrity
to spread the news.
The council broke up, and the earliest arrangements were set on foot to
make the draught required by the general orders.
Before the day had departed, nine hundred picked men, well mounted and
equipped, were seen spurring forward from the line, and taking a
position in the column of march, which was now prepared to move. All the
principal officers of the army accompanied this detachment, in which
were to be seen the Amherst Rangers with their redoubtable recruits,
Henry Lindsay and the sergeant.
It rained during the night, a circumstance that, however it increased
the toils of the soldiers, but little abated their speed--and, an hour
before daybreak, they had reached the destined point on Broad river: but
the game had disappeared. Ferguson, as we have seen, had pushed his
march on the preceding evening beyond this spot, and had taken the road,
as it was reported, towards King's mountain, which was not above twelve
miles distant.
A few hours were given by Campbell to the refreshment of his troops, who
halted upon the bank of the river, where, having kindled their fires and
opened their wallets, they soon found themselves in a condition that
pleasantly contrasted with the discomforts of their ride during the
night. The enemy consisted principally of infantry--and Campbell, having
gained so closely upon their footsteps, felt no doubt of overtaking them
in the course of the day. He, therefore, determined to allow his men
full time to recruit their strength for the approaching conflict.
The rain had ceased before the dawn. The clouds had fled from the
firmament before a brisk and enlivening autumnal breeze, and the sun
rose with unusual splendor. It was one of those days which belong to
October, clear, cool, and exhilarating--when all animal nature seems to
be invigorated by breathing an atmosphere of buoyant health. For more
than an hour after the sun had cast his broad beams over the landscape,
the wearied encampment was seen stretched in slumber--the camp-guards
only, and some occasional parties on fatigue service, were to be
observed in motion. By degrees, the drowsy soldiers woke up, refreshed
by the change of weather, no less than by the repose which they had
snatched in the short moments of the halt. A general summons, at last,
brought every one into motion. By nine o'clock of the morning, the army
were in condition to prosecute their march, as little wanting in
alacrity or vigor as when they first commenced their labors; and, at the
hour designated, they were seen to prick forth upon their way with an
elastic movement that had in it the vivacity of a holiday sport. Even
our young martialist, Henry, had become so inured to the toils of the
road, that now, with the aid of a sleep which Horse Shoe had
affectionately guarded until the last moment--to say nothing of a good
luncheon of broiled venison, which the boy discussed after he had
mounted into his saddle--he might be considered the most light-hearted
of the host.
Towards noon, the army reached the neighborhood of King's mountain. The
scouts and parties of the advance had brought information that Ferguson
had turned aside from his direct road, and taken post upon this
eminence, where, it was evident, he meant to await the attack of his
enemy. Campbell, therefore, lost no time in pushing forward, and was
soon rewarded with a view of the object of his pursuit. Some two or
three miles distant, where an opening through the forest first gave him
a sight of the mass of highland, he could indistinctly discern the array
of the adverse army perched on the very summit of the hill.
The mountain consists of an elongated ridge, rising out of the bosom of
an uneven country, to the height of perhaps five hundred feet, and
presenting a level line of summit or crest, from which the earth slopes
down, at its southward termination and on each side, by an easy descent;
whilst northward, it is detached from highlands of inferior elevation by
a rugged valley--thus giving it the character of an insulated
promontory, not exceeding half a mile in length. At the period to which
our story refers, it was covered, except in a few patches of barren
field or broken ground, with a growth of heavy timber, which was so far
free from underwood as in no great degree to embarrass the passage of
horsemen; and through this growth the eye might distinguish, at a
considerable distance, the occasional masses of grey rock that were
scattered in huge boulders over its summit and sides.
The adjacent region, lying south from the mountain, was partially
cleared and in cultivation, presenting a limited range of open ground,
over which the march of Campbell might have been revealed in frequent
glimpses to the British partisan, for some three or four miles. We may
suppose, therefore, that the two antagonists watched each other, during
the advance of the approaching army across this district, with emotions
of various and deep interest. Campbell drew at length into a ravine
which, bounded by low and short hills, and shaded by detached portions
of the forest, partly concealed his troops from the view of the enemy,
who was now not more than half a mile distant. The gorge of this dell or
narrow valley opened immediately towards the southern termination of the
mountain; and the column halted a short distance within, where a bare
knoll, or round, low hill, crowned with rock, jutted abruptly over the
road, and constituted the only impediment that prevented each party from
inspecting the array of his opponent.
It was an hour after noon, and the present halt was improved by the men
in making ready for battle. Meanwhile, the chief officers met together
in front, and employed their time in surveying the localities of the
ground upon which they were soon to be brought to action. The knoll, I
have described, furnished a favorable position for this observation, and
thither they had already repaired.
I turn from the graver and more important matters which may be supposed
to have occupied the thoughts of the leaders, as they were grouped
together on the broad rock, to a subject which was, at this moment,
brought to their notice by the unexpected appearance of two females on
horseback, on the road, a full half mile in the rear of the army, and
who were now approaching at a steady pace. They were attended by a man
who, even thus far off, showed the sedateness of age; and, a short space
behind them, rode a few files of troopers in military array.
It was with mingled feelings of surprise and admiration at the courage
which could have prompted her, at such a time, to visit the army, that
the party recognised Mildred Lindsay and her attendants, in the
approaching cavalcade. These emotions were expressed by them in the
rough and hearty phrase of their habitual and familiar intercourse.
"Let me beg, gentlemen," said Campbell, interrupting them, "that you
speak kindly and considerately of yonder lady. By my honor, I have never
seen man or woman with a more devoted or braver heart. Poor girl!--she
has nobly followed Butler through his afflictions, and taken her share
of suffering with a spirit that should bring us all to shame. Horse Shoe
Robinson, who has squired her to our camp, even from her father's house,
speaks of a secret between her and our captive friend, that tells
plainly enough to my mind of sworn faith and long-tried love. As men and
soldiers, we should reverence it. Williams, look carefully to her
comfort and safety. Go, man, at once, and meet her on the road. God
grant that this day may bring an end to her grief!"
Williams departed on his mission, and when he met the lady her brother
and the sergeant were already in her train.
Allen Musgrove explained the cause of this unlooked-for apparition. The
party, in obedience to Mildred's urgent wish, and scarcely less to the
content of all the others, had quitted their secluded position at
Gilbert-town on the preceding morning; and learning in the course of the
day from persons on the road, that Ferguson had moved northwards, the
miller had taken a direction across the country which enabled him to
intercept the army at its present post, with little more than half the
travel which the circuitous route of the march had required. They had
passed the night under a friendly roof some ten or twelve miles distant,
and had overtaken their companions at the critical moment at which they
have been introduced to view.
At Mildred's request she was conducted into the presence of Campbell,
who still retained his station on the knoll. A thoughtful and amiable
deference was manifested towards her by the assembled soldiers, who
received her with many kind and encouraging greetings. That air of
perturbation and timidity which, in spite of all efforts at
self-control, the novelty of her position and the consciousness of the
dreadful scene at hand had thrown over her demeanor, gradually began to
give way before the assurances and sympathy of her friends; and, at
length, she became sufficiently self-possessed to look around her and
mark the events that were in progress.
The important moment of battle drew nigh, and the several leaders
respectively took their leave of her, with an exhortation to be of good
cheer, and to remain at her present post under the charge of her trusty
companion, the miller, who was fully instructed by Campbell as to the
course he should take for the lady's safety, in whatever emergency might
arise.
Here we leave her for a moment, whilst we cast a glance at the
preparations for battle.
It was three o'clock before these arrangements were completed. I have
informed my reader that the mountain terminated immediately in front of
the outlet from the narrow dell in which Campbell's army had halted, its
breast protruding into the plain only some few hundred paces from the
head of the column, whilst the valley, that forked both right and left,
afforded an easy passage along the base on either side. Ferguson
occupied the very summit, and now frowned upon his foe from the midst of
a host confident in the strength of their position, and exasperated by
the pursuit which had driven them into this fastness.
Campbell resolved to assail this post by a spirited attack, at the same
moment, in front and on the two flanks. With this intent his army was
divided into three equal parts. The centre was reserved to himself and
Shelby; the right was assigned to Sevier and M'Dowell; the left to
Cleveland and Williams. These two latter parties were to repair to their
respective sides of the mountain, and the whole were to make the onset
by scaling the heights as nearly as possible at the same instant.
The men, before they marched out of the ravine, had dismounted and
picqueted their horses under the winding shelter of the hills; and,
being now separated into detached columns formed in solid order, they
were put in motion to reach their allotted posts. The Amherst Rangers
were retained on horseback for such duty as might require speed, and
were stationed close in the rear of Campbell's own division, which now
merely marched from behind the shelter of the knoll and halted in the
view of the enemy, until sufficient delay should be afforded to the
flanking divisions to attain their ground.
Mildred, attended by Allen Musgrove and his daughter, still maintained
her position on the knoll, and from this height surveyed the
preparations for combat with a beating heart. The scene within her view
was one of intense occupation. The air of stern resolve that sat upon
every brow; the silent but onward movement of the masses of men
advancing to conflict; the few brief and quick words of command that
fell from the distance upon her ear; the sullen beat of the hoof upon
the sod, as an occasional horseman sped to and fro between the more
remote bodies and the centre division, which yet stood in compact
phalanx immediately below her at the foot of the hill; then the
breathless anxiety of her companions near at hand, and the short note of
dread, and almost terror, that now and then escaped from the lips of
Mary Musgrove, as the maiden looked eagerly and fearfully abroad over
the plain; all these incidents wrought upon her feelings and caused her
to tremble. Yet, amidst these novel emotions, she was not insensible to
a certain lively and even pleasant interest, arising out of the
picturesque character of the spectacle. The gay sunshine striking aslant
these moving battalions, lighting up their fringed and many-colored
hunting-shirts, and casting a golden hue upon their brown and
weather-beaten faces, brought out into warm relief the chief
characteristics of this peculiar woodland army. And Mildred sometimes
forgot her fears in the fleeting inspiration of the sight, as she
watched the progress of an advancing column--at one time moving in close
ranks, with the serried thicket of rifles above their heads, and at
another deploying into files to pass some narrow path, along which, with
trailed arms and bodies bent, they sped with the pace of hunters beating
the hill-side for game. The tattered and service-stricken banner that
shook its folds in the wind above these detached bodies, likewise lent
its charm of association to the field the silence and steadfastness of
the array in which it was borne, and its constant onward motion; showing
it to be encircled by strong arms and stout hearts.
Turning from these, the lady's eye was raised, with a less joyous
glance, towards the position of the enemy. On the most prominent point
of the mountain's crest she could descry the standard of England
fluttering above a concentrated body, whose scarlet uniforms, as the sun
glanced upon them through the forest, showed that here Ferguson had
posted his corps of regulars, and held them ready to meet the attack of
the centre division of the assailants; whilst the glittering of bayonets
amidst the dark foliage, at intervals, rearward along the line of the
summit, indicated that heavy detachments were stationed in this quarter
to guard the flanks. The marching and countermarching of the frequent
corps, from various positions on the summit; the speeding of officers on
horseback, and the occasional movement of small squadrons of dragoons,
who were at one moment seen struggling along the sides of the mountain,
and, at another, descending towards the base or returning to the summit,
disclosed the earnestness and activity of the preparation with which a
courageous soldier may be supposed to make ready for his foe.
It was with a look of sorrowful concern which brought tears into her
eyes, that Mildred gazed upon this host, and strained her vision in the
vain endeavor to catch some evidences of the presence of Arthur Butler.
"We both look, perchance," she said to herself, "at this very instant,
upon yon hateful banner--and with the same aversion: but oh, with what
more painful apprehension it is my fortune to behold it! Little does he
think that Mildred's eyes are turned upon it. 'Tis well he does not--his
noble heart would chafe itself with ten-fold anguish at the cruel
thraldom that separates us. Yes, 'tis well he does not dream that his
Mildred is here to witness this dreadful struggle," she continued,
musing over the subject of her grief, "it might tempt him to some rash
endeavor to break his bondage. It is better as it is; the misery of the
thought of our afflictions should be mine only; the brave patience of a
manly soldier is his, and should not be embittered with sorrows that
belong not to the perils of war."
"Sister," said Henry, who had stolen up the hill unobserved, and now
stood beside Mildred, "take courage and keep a good heart! The very day
I often prayed to see has come--and it has come sooner than you promised
it should. Here I am in the field, amongst men, and no play-game is it,
either, to keep us busy, but downright earnest battle. And then, dear
sister, you are here to look on--isn't that a piece of good luck?"
"Ah, brother, I could talk to you with a boastful tongue when all
around us was peace and security. I cannot exhort you now. If I dare, I
would beg you to stay by my side. I have need of your comfort, and
shudder with a chilly fear. Henry, that small hand of yours can do no
service to-day--and in truth, I cannot bear to see you exposed to
danger."
"In tears, sister! Come now, this is not like you. Hasn't Arthur fought
many a day and often? And didn't you set him on, with good brave words
for it?"
"I was not there to see him," interrupted Mildred.
"Well, sister, I must get to my post," said Henry. "I serve as
aide-de-camp, and Horse Shoe is to help me. By-the-by, Mildred, the
sergeant is uncommonly silent and busy to-day. He smells this battle
like an old soldier, and I heard him give a few hints to Campbell,
concerning the marching up yonder hill:--he told him the column should
not display until they got near the top, as Ferguson has no cannon; and
the Colonel took it very gladly. Horse Shoe, moreover, thinks we will
beat them--and the men have great dependence on what he says. I shall
not lose sight of him to-day."
"For Heaven's sake, Henry," exclaimed Mildred, "my dear brother, do not
think of following the sergeant! I cannot part with you," she added,
with great earnestness; "it is an awful time for brother and sister to
separate--stay with me."
The cadet turned a look upon his sister of surprise, at the new light in
which her present fears represented her.
"I thought, Mildred," he said, "you were brave. Hav'n't we come all this
way from home to assist Butler? And are you now, for the first
time--just when we are going to pluck him from the midst of the wolves
upon that mountain--are you now to weep and play the coward, sister?"
"Go, go!" said Mildred, as she covered her eyes with her hand, "but,
dear Henry, remember you have a weak arm and a slender frame, and are
not expected to take upon you the duties of a man."
"Besides," said Mary Musgrove, who had been a silent and perplexed
witness of this scene, and who now put in her word of counsel, out of
the fulness of her heart, "besides, Mister Henry Lindsay, what trouble
would it give to Sergeant Robinson, and all the rest of them, if you
should get lost scampering about the hills, and they shouldn't know
where to find you? It would take up so much of their precious time in
looking for you: and, I am sure, they hav'n't much to spare!"
"You are as valiant as a mouse," replied Henry, laughing, "and monstrous
wise, Mary Musgrove. Do you take care of my sister, and speak a word now
and then to keep up her spirits--that is, if your tongue doesn't grow
too thick with fright. Your teeth chatter now. A kiss, Mildred. There:
God bless you! I must get to my post."
With these words, Henry bounded off towards the valley to rejoin his
comrades. Half way, he met Allen Musgrove, who was now on his return to
the top of the hill, whence he had withdrawn for a brief space to hold
some converse with Robinson.
"A word," said Allen to Henry, as they met; "you are but a stripling.
Remember that this day's work is to be wrought by men of might--those
who are keen of eye and steady of foot. In the tempest of battle your
weight, Mister Henry, would be but as a feather in the gale. Yet in this
fight none might be crushed whose fall would bring more anguish than
yours. Let me beg you, as a rash and thoughtless youth, to think of
that. The good lady, your sister--"
"I cannot stay to hear you," interrupted Henry; "the column is beginning
to move."
And in a moment he was at the foot of the hill.