After joining Col. C. McDowell, it was proposed by Cols. She

NARRATIVE

OF THE

BATTLE OF COWAN’S FORD,

FEBRUARY 1ST, 1781,

BY ROBERT HENRY,

AND

Narrative of the Battle of Kings Mountain,

BY CAPTAIN DAVID VANCE.

MANUSCRIPT PRESERVED BY ROBERT HENRY, ESQ.

COPY FURNISHED BY LYMAN C. DRAPER, LL. D.,

OF MADISON, WISCONSIN.

PUBLISHED BY D. SCHENCK, SR.

Greensboro, N. C., March 28th, 1891.

Reece & Elam, Printers

PREFACE.

Having seen the following most valuable and interesting narrative quoted

very often in “KING’S MOUNTAIN AND ITS HEROES,” written by Lyman C.

Draper, L.L.D., of Wisconsin, I wrote the Doctor with a view of

obtaining the original manuscript if possible, but was unable to procure

it. He however very generously intrusted to me the following copy which

he had himself “carefully transcribed” from the original paper in his

hands, in January 1874, and which had been sent to him by Dr. J. F. E.

Hardy, of Asheville, North Carolina. The original manuscript had been

placed in Dr. Hardy’s possession by Wm. L. Henry, of Buncombe County, a

son of Robert Henry—William L. Henry is still living.

In a note to “King’s Mountain and its Heroes,” page 259, is the

following brief sketch of Robert Henry, who was wise enough to preserve

this contribution to our Revolutionary history—to-wit:

“Mr. Henry was born in a rail pen, in then Rowan,[1] now Iredell county,

North Carolina, January 10th 1765. Full of patriotism though young, he

shared in the trials and perils of the Revolution, and in due time

recovered from the severe wounds he received at King’s Mountain. In

1795, he was one of the party who ran the boundary line between North

Carolina and Tennessee. He subsequently studied law, and practiced his

profession many years in Buncombe County. He served in the House of

Commons in 1833 and 1834. He was a clear and forcible public speaker;

and his memory deserves to be held in grateful remembrance for

preserving the narrative of the King’s Mountain campaign and battle, so

frequently cited in this work. He died in the new County of Clay, North

Carolina, January 6th, 1863, within four days of attaining the

patriarchal age of ninety-eight years, and he was undoubtedly the last

of the heroes of King’s Mountain.”

Robert Henry lived in the vicinity of Tuckaseage Ford, on the Catawba

river, which is about ten miles below Cowan’s Ford, when Cornwallis

crossed at the latter ford. He lived on the West side of the river in

Lincoln County. For many years he owned the White Sulphur Springs about

five miles South west of Asheville. It was a popular resort in the

summer for the wealthy planters from the South and was the scene of much

gayety and pleasure. Mr. Henry died in Clay County, the extreme Western

county of the State, bordering on Georgia and Tennessee. I have myself

heard my grandfather Michael Schenck, of Lincolnton, N. C., speak of Mr.

Henry as “a great land lawyer.” His practice as a surveyor, no doubt,

making him formidable in such suits.

The public is indebted to the Hon. Theodore F. Davidson, Attorney

General of North Carolina, and a great-grandson of Captain David Vance,

for the publication of this narrative.

D. SCHENCK, SENIOR.

Greensboro, N. C., March the 28th, 1891.

Footnote 1:

This is manifestly an error. He was born in Tryon. See W. L. Henry’s

letter to Dr. Hardy. Tryon was changed to Lincoln County. Lincoln was

divided and Mr. Henry’s birthplace is in the present Gaston county.

ROBERT HENRY’S NARRATIVE.

KING’S MOUNTAIN BATTLE, &c.

TO DR. J. F. E. HARDY,

Asheville, N. C.:

_My Dear Sir, and Kind Friend_:

I send you the MS. of my father, ROBERT HENRY. He was born in Tryon (now

Lincoln) county, N. C., _in a rail pen_, 10th February, 1765; was a

lawyer and surveyor by profession; was one of the first settlers in

Buncombe county; taught School on Swannanoa, the first school taught in

Buncombe county. He died in Clay county, N. C., February 6th, 1863,

wanting but four days of being 98 years old. THOMAS HENRY, his father,

died soon after the Revolution, of rheumatism contracted during the war.

THOMAS HENRY was from the North of Ireland.

I do not want this manuscript lost, as you see it is in ROBERT HENRY’S

own hand, and a little relic. If not used, I should like it should be

returned to

Respectfully,

WM. L. HENRY,

ASHEVILLE,

Buncombe County, N. C.

ROBERT HENRY’S NARRATIVE.

I will proceed to point out and correct some of the errors in WHEELER’S

HISTORY of North Carolina, so far as respects the transactions of

Cornwallis crossing Cowan’s Ford, on Catawba river, the 1st of February,

1781; then I will give my own version of that transaction; then I will

give the common report of the transaction shortly after it happened.

Wheeler’s History, p. 232-33: “Here” (meaning at Cowan’s Ford) “about

six hundred militia under General Davidson were posted, and a slight

skirmish occurred. A British Colonel (Hall) and three privates were

killed, and thirty-six wounded.”

If we take this account to be true, we must conclude that these militia

were very bad marksmen, for they had time to have fired five rounds

each, which would have been three thousand single shots, at distances

varying from fifty yards to less than twenty yards, over a naked sheet

of water; that their enemy was not obscured by smoke, being in water

above the waist-band, and hanging together by their muskets; that not a

single gun was fired by them whilst in the water. This story, if it

bears telling, cannot be accredited to be true, that in firing three

thousand single shots they only killed four, including Col. Hall, and

wounded thirty-six. The story appears further incredible from this—that

in common battles on land, there are as many, and often more, men killed

than wounded where the whole force from head to foot is exposed to fire

of the opposite party. In the present case, the body, from above the

waist-band to the top of the head was exposed—for all below was under

water and secure from lead. Wounds in the upper part [of the body] are

doubly as apt to kill as those in the lower extremities, from the

waist-band downward; hence we would expect double as many killed on this

occasion as wounded—but the reverse is told, that only four were killed,

including Col. Hall, and thirty-six wounded.

A further mistake may be noticed. The account states that Davidson had

six hundred militia, whereas he had only three hundred. The whole of

this quotation should pass for nothing.

The next error that I will notice is on page 235 of Wheeler’s History,

which I quote: “Soon after the action commenced” (meaning at Cowan’s

Ford) “General William Davidson was killed, greatly lamented by all who

knew him as a talented, brave and generous officer.” The true statement

is this: Davidson was killed by the first gun that was fired on the

British side on that occasion, for they did not fire a gun whilst in the

river; and the gun that killed him was fired at the water’s edge on the

Mecklenburg side; and if Davidson’s clothes had been examined, it is

probable that they would have shown the mark of powder. The whole of the

Americans had left their stands or posts at the water’s edge and

judiciously fled, lest the British might hem them in by the river; and

an utter silence prevailed—not a gun firing on either side: Silence was

first broken by the report of the gun that killed Davidson.

A further quotation from the same page: “The Company commanded by Gen.

Graham was the first to commence the attack” (at Cowan’s Ford) “on the

British as they advanced through the river, which was resolutely

continued until they reached the bank, loaded their arms, and commenced

a heavy fire upon his men, two of whom were killed.” The whole of this

is a gratuitous statement, for Gen. Graham was not there—nor was there

either officer or private killed at that place except Gen. Davidson; nor

was there any one wounded there except Robert Beatty, who afterwards

died of the wound. Gen. Graham and his company may have been at

Davidson’s camp, three quarters of a mile from the Ford, and two of his

men might have been killed there, if they were too tardy in making their

escape before the British arrived there.

Another quotation from Wheeler’s History, p. 264: “At day break the

British army under Cornwallis, on the 1st February, 1781, entered the

waters of Catawba, then swollen by heavy rains, at Cowan’s Ford. The

morning was dark and rainy. The light infantry under Col. Hall entered

first, followed by the grenadiers and the battalions. The piquet of Gen.

Davidson challenged the enemy; receiving no reply the guard fired. This

turned out the whole force of Davidson, who kept up a galling fire from

the bank.”

Observe the morning was dark but not rainy. Davidson’s army was

stationed three quarters of a mile from the Ford, and did not fire a gun

at the British whilst in the river, nor after they came across; all the

firing by the American side in the river and on the bank was done by the

guard.

Now, I will give my own version of the transaction of Cornwallis

crossing Catawba River at Cowan’s Ford, 1st February, 1781. Robert

Beatty, a lame man, had taken up a school near the Tuckaseage Ford, and

had taught two days, and was teaching the third, when news came to the

School-house that Cornwallis was camped at Forney’s, about seven miles

from the School-house; that Tarleton was ranging through the country

catching whig boys to make musicians of them in the British army. The

master instantly dismissed the scholars, directing them to go home and

spread the news, and retired himself. I went home, and that night Moses

Starret, Alexander Starret, George Gillespie, Robert Gillespie, and

Charles Rutledge came to my father’s! We lay out that night, and shortly

before day-light my brother, Joseph Henry, who had left the army to give

the news, and had crossed Catawba at John Beattie’s in a canoe; and when

he left the army, it was expected that Cornwallis would cross the river

at Tuckaseage Ford. Early in the morning this company crossed the river

at Beatties, about two miles below Tuckaseage Ford, where we hid our

canoe, staid some time at Beatties’—then went up to the Tuckaseage Ford,

and the army was at Cowan’s Ford, we went up the river to John

Nighten’s, who treated us well by giving us potatoes to roast, and some

whisky to drink. We became noisy and mischievous. Nighten said we should

not have any more whisky. I proposed to go to the camp at the Ford, if

any one would let me have a gun and ammunition. My brother said he would

give me his; Charles Rutledge proposed also to accompany me if he had a

gun and ammunition; when Moses Starret gave him his gun. When about to

start, I gave Nighten a hundred dollar Continental bill for a half a

pint of whisky. My brother gave another bill of the same size for half a

bushel of potatoes. We dispatched the whiskey. Being thus equipped, we

went to the Ford, which was about a mile and a half. When we arrived,

the guard that was there, thirty in number, made us welcome; the officer

of the guard told us that Cornwallis would certainly attempt to cross

that night or early in the morning; that each one of the guard had

picked their stands to annoy the British as they crossed, so that when

the alarm was given they would not be crowded, or be in each other’s

way—and said we must choose our stands. He accompanied us—Charles

Rutledge chose the uppermost stand, and I chose the lowest, next the

getting out place of the Ford; the officer observed, that he considered

that Davidson had done wrong, for that the army should have been

stationed at the Ford—instead of which it was encamped three-fourths of

a mile off, and that some person acquainted in the neighborhood of

Forney should watch the movements of Cornwallis’ army, and immediately

when they would attempt to march, to hasten to the river and give the

alarm; then that Davidson’s army might be in readiness to receive them;

the river being in the situation that it was then in, and the army thus

prepared to receive them, said that Cornwallis and a million of men

could not cross without cannon as long as our ammunition would last.

This I thought was a large expression; but since I think he was

correct.[2] He mentioned to each man of the guard to go to his stand

again and examine it, so that when the alarm was given, that there

should be no mistakes then made. I went to mine, and was well pleased

with it—for in shooting, if I would miss my first aim, my lead would

range along the British army obliquely and still do damage, and that I

could stand it until the British would come to a place the water was

riffling over a rock, then it would be time to run away. I remember that

I looked over the guard to see if there was any person with whom I was

acquainted, and found none but Joel Jetton, and my lame school-master,

Robert Beatty, with my comrade, Charles Rutledge.

Gen. Joseph Graham’s name is mentioned by Wheeler. I was acquainted with

him; but he was not there. Shortly after dark a man across the river

hooted like an owl, and was answered; a man went to a canoe some

distance off, and brought word from him that all was silent in the

British camp. The guard all lay down with their guns in their arms, and

all were sound asleep at day-break, except Joel Jetton, who discovered

the noise of horses in deep water. The British pilot, Dick Beal being

deceived by our fires, had led them into swimming water. Jetton ran to

the Ford, the sentry being sound asleep, Jetton kicked him into the

river, endeavored to fire his gun, but it was wet: Having discovered the

army, ran to our fires, having a fine voice, cried “the British! the

British!” and fired a gun—then each man ran to his stand; when I got to

my stand, I saw them red, but thought from loss of sleep my eyes might

be mistaken, threw water into them; by the time I was ready to fire, the

rest of the guard had fired. I then heard the British splashing and

making a noise as if drowning. I fired, and continued firing until I saw

that one on horse-back had passed my rock in the river, and saw that it

was Dick Beal moving his gun from his shoulder, I expected, to shoot me.

I ran with all speed up the bank, and when at the top of it, William

Polk’s horse breasted me, and Gen. Davidson’s horse, about twenty or

thirty feet before Polk’s horse, and near to the water’s edge. All being

silent on both sides, I heard the report of a gun, at the water’s edge,

being the first gun fired on the British side, and which I thought Dick

Beal had fired at me. That moment Polk wheeled his horse, and cried

“fire away, boys; there is help at hand.” Turning my eye round,

designing to run away, I saw my lame school-master, Beatty, loading his

gun by a tree; I thought I could stand it as long as he could, and

commenced loading. Beatty fired, then I fired, the heads and shoulders

of the British being just above the bank; they made no return fire;

silence still prevailed. I observed Beatty loading again; I ran down

another load—when he fired, he cried “it’s time to run, Bob.” I looked

past my tree, and saw their guns lowered, and then straightened myself

behind my tree. They fired and knocked off some bark from my tree.

In the meantime Beatty had turned from his tree, and a bullet hit him in

the hip, and broke the upper end of his thigh bone; he fell, still

hallowing for me to run. I then ran at the top of my speed about one

hundred yards, when a thought struck me that the British had no horsemen

to follow me, and that Davidson’s army would be down at the river, and a

battle would take place. Whereupon I loaded my gun, and went opposite to

the Ford, and chose a large tree, sat down by it, and fired about fifty

yards at the British. They fired several guns toward the place where I

was; but their lead did not come nearer to me than about two rods.

I will now account for the great difference between the number of the

British killed and those wounded, as stated by Wheeler. The water at the

Ford was fully waist-band deep, and in many places much deeper, with a

very heavy pressing current, and when a man was killed or badly wounded,

the current immediately floated him away, so that none of them that were

killed or badly wounded were ever brought to the shore; and none but

those slightly wounded reached the bank; Col. Hall fell at the bank—I

account for the three British that were killed as stated by Wheeler, in

this way: Beatty, the lame schoolmaster, an excellent marksman, fired

twice, at a distance of not more than twenty yards, at the British,

after they had ascended the high bank, as before stated; and I fired

twice about the same distance. I therefore think Beatty being the best

marksman killed two, and I killed one.

Wheeler states that on the American side there were two killed: I

observe, if there was any one killed that it was not at the river, for

the British did not fire a gun whilst in the river, and when they arose

the high bank, all were gone but Beatty and myself; that if any were

killed, it was at Davidson’s camp, three quarters of a mile from the

Ford of the river. But I never heard of any one either killed or wounded

of the Americans except Robert Beatty on that occasion.

I will give an account of the balance of my route after firing the last

time, as heretofore stated. I went down the river to John Beattie’s,

where we had left our canoe; there I found my company, the two Starrets,

the two Gillespies, my brother Joseph, and my comrade Charles Rutledge.

I returned the gun to my brother after counting the cartridges—found

seven missing—therefore I had fired seven times, as I supposed. The

company remained at Beattie’s until the next morning; when we took our

canoe to cross the river to the Lincoln side, it was proposed that we

would go to James Cunningham’s fish-trap, and see if there were any fish

in it. When we arrived at the trap, there were fourteen dead men lodged

in it, several of whom appeared to have no wound, but had drowned. We

pushed them into the water, they floated off, and went each to his own

home. This is my version of that transaction.

Now, I will give the common report of it. I will begin with the report

of Nicholas Gosnell, one of our neighbors, a Tory, who was in

Cornwallis’ army when they crossed the Catawba at Cowan’s Ford. It was

frequently repeated from the extraordinary language he used, and from

his manner of expression—it is therefore better imprinted on my memory.

I will endeavor to give it in his own language: “His Lordship chose Dick

Beal for his pilot, as he well know’d the Ford, and a durned pretty

pilot he was, for he suffered himself to be led astray by the Rebel

fires, and then had to go down to the Ford afterwards; but if he did bad

one way, he did good another, for he killed their damned Rebel General.

The Rebels were posted at the water’s edge—there wan’t many on ’em; but

I’ll be durned if they didn’t slap the wad to his Majesty’s men

suicidally! for a while; for I saw ’em hollerin and a snortin and a

drownin—the river was full on ’em a snortin, a hollerin and a drownin

until his Lordship reached the off bank; then the Rebels made straight

shirt tales, and all was silent—then I tell you his Lordship was Bo sure

Super gille cristilum [?],[3] and when he rose the bank he was the best

dog in the hunt, and not a rebel to be seen.” This is the Tory version

of Cornwallis crossing Catawba at Cowan’s Ford.

The following is the report of every person who lived at or near the

river between Cowan’s Ford and Tuckaseage Ford: That a great number of

British dead were found on Thompson’s fish-dam, and in his trap, and

numbers lodged on brush, and drifted to the banks: that the river stunk

with dead carcases; that the British could not have lost less than one

hundred men on that occasion.

Report of soldiers who were in Davidson’s army. When Wm. Polk returned

from the river after General Davidson was killed at Cowan’s Ford, three

quarters of a mile from the Ford—they stated that when William Polk

returned from the Ford, and reported the death of Gen. Davidson, that

some of the army had left, and the rest were in confusion; that Polk

prudently marched them off, not being able to fight Cornwallis on equal

terms.

Footnote 2:

Gen. Greene had admonished Davidson of the danger of Tarleton crossing

secretly at some private ford and falling on his rear, and for this

reason he kept his main force at some distance from the river.

D. S.

Footnote 3:

This seems to be some silly slang of that day.

KING’S MOUNTAIN EXPEDITION.

I will now give the statement of Col. D. Vance and Gen. Joseph McDowell

of the manner of raising the army to oppose Col. Ferguson—its march—and

the defeat of Ferguson.

This part is the statement of Col. Vance; and on a sarcastic and

sneering reply by M. Matthews saying that they, to wit the army under

Campbell, was a fierce and formidable set of chickens, and could make

great havoc among eggs, if each one was provided with a stick. This

elicited a more extensive reply and statement of the whole affair and

its consequences from Gen. J. McDowell. I will first give the reasons

why Vance and McDowell made these statements.

The General Assembly of North Carolina made an agreement with that of

Tennessee to run and mark the Division line between the two States, and

in the year 1799, the State of North Carolina appointed Gen. J.

McDowell, Col. David Vance,[4] and Mussentine Matthews,[5] commissioners

on the part of North Carolina, who associated John Strother and Robert

Henry surveyors, with the necessary numbers of chain-bearers, markers,

and pack-horsemen for that business, who met and went to the White-Top

Mountain, a spur of the Stone Mountain, where the Virginia line crossed

the latter. Strother did not appear at the commencement. The company

were asking a great many detached questions relative to Ferguson’s

defeat—at length requested that McDowell or Vance would give them a

connected account of the whole transaction from first to last. It was

agreed that Col. Vance should give that account. The Colonel agreed to

do so on consulting with McDowell, our pilot, Gideon Lewis, who had been

a news-carrier, and myself, [and relate it] on the first wet day that

should happen so that we could not progress with the line.

Accordingly a wet day happened, when we were at the head of the

Round-About on the Stone Mountain. Our bark camp was soon fixed, and

Col. Vance gave the account, ending with the details of the battle of

King’s Mountain. Whereupon M. Matthews observed that we (meaning the

army) were a fierce and formidable set of blue hen’s chickens among

eggs, if each one was provided with a stick. This brought a reply from

McDowell. That being done, I was provided with a note-book, separate

from my surveyor’s book, to take down a memorandum of particular things

that happened, and commenced taking a memorandum of Vance’s account of

that transaction. Whereupon Col. Vance, who was an elegant clerk, told

me as there was only one surveyor, that I had not time to do it—and if I

would give him my book, that he would write it for me, as he had

leisure. He took the book, and returned it to me, saying he had paper of

his own, at a Spring by the side of Bright’s Path in the Bald Ground on

the Yellow Mountain. Having taken down his own recollections, and also

Gen. McDowell’s reply to M. Matthews—which is as follows:

“As I have in some measure to depend on my memory, I will begin with

Col. Shelby’s retreat after his defeating the British at Ennoree. Col.

Charles McDowell had detached Shelby, Sevier, &c., with a party to go

round where Ferguson was camped—who defeated the British and Tories at

Ennoree. When Col. McDowell received intelligence of Gate’s defeat, and

sent an express to Col. Shelby to retreat, Gen. Joseph McDowell was then

Major, and I was Captain. Col. Shelby called a council of all his

officers to know what was best to do. It was agreed that we must make a

wood’s trip to get round Ferguson and join Col. C. McDowell, carrying

the prisoners alternately on horseback, and running on foot short

distances. After going some distance, found that Col. C. McDowell had

left his camp, and was retreating towards Gilbert Town, we altered our

course and overtook him and the main army.”

After joining Col. C. McDowell, it was proposed by Cols. Shelby and

Sevier that they thought an army of volunteers could be raised to defeat

Ferguson, stating that Ferguson’s main business was to kill the Whig

stock; that he would be at the heads of Broad River, and then go to the

head of Catawba to execute that purpose, which would give time to raise

an army of volunteers over the mountains, and in Wilkes and Surry

counties. All the officers, and some of the privates were consulted, and

all agreed that it was right to make the trial to raise an army. It was

then agreed that the prisoners should be sent to Virginia; that Cols.

Shelby and Sevier and their men should immediately go over the Mountains

home and procure volunteers; that Col. Chas. McDowell should send an

express to Cols. Cleveland and Herndon in Wilkes for them to raise

volunteers; and that Col. C. McDowell should provide some way to

preserve the Whig stock on the head of Catawba, and provide some way

also to give intelligence of Ferguson’s movements.

The prisoners were accordingly dispatched to Virginia. Cols. Shelby and

Sevier went immediately over the mountains; and Col. C. McDowell wrote

to Cols. Cleveland and Herndon to raise volunteers to be ready to march

upon the shortest notice;—he then called the men on the head of Catawba,

and first proposed that they who could not go over the mountains, should

take protection on the advance of Ferguson and thereby save the whig

stock: Daniel Smith (afterwards Colonel), Thomas Lytle, Robert Patton

and J. McDowell of the Pleasant Garden, absolutely refused, and stated

that they would drive the Whig stock into the deep coves under the eave

of the Black Mountain; that others might take protection and save the

stock that remained behind. John Carson, afterwards Colonel, Wm.

Davidson, Ben. Davidson and others were appointed to take protection to

save the remaining whig stock.

James Jack and Archibald Nail were appointed to be news-bearers over the

Yellow Mountains to Shelby and were to be passing continually—that they

were to receive the news in the Turkey Cove relative to Ferguson’s

movements. That Joseph Dobson and James McKoy were to be bearers of the

like news to Cols. Cleveland and Herndon, and that they were to receive

their news at the Montgomery place, afterwards Joseph Dobson’s place.

Col. Ben. Cleveland appointed his brother, Robert Cleveland and Gideon

Lewis, our pilot, to be news-bearers from B. Cleveland to Shelby. Thus

the news went the rounds as fast as horses could carry their riders.

After Col. C. McDowell had thus arranged his business, he received the

news that Ferguson was at Gilbert Town. He then collected all the men

that he could procure from Burke county and went to Shelby and Sevier,

who had engaged Col. Campbell, of Virginia, also to raise volunteers.

The orders given to the volunteers were to equip themselves as quick as

possible and have nothing to provide when they were called on to march,

but to saddle their horses and march on the shortest notice. Those who

could not go supplied those who could with any thing they stood in need

of. It was also announced to the volunteers by the officers, that a

battle with Ferguson was determined upon, and that they might rely on a

battle before they returned home.

The news went the rounds by the news-carriers already mentioned, of

every thing that happened in Ferguson’s camp—until the news came that

John Carson had played a supple trick on Ferguson—that having saved

almost all the whig stock that had not been driven into the coves by

Daniel Smith and company—that Ferguson began to suspect Carson for

saving whig stock—there being a large quantity of Tory cattle ranging

about the large cane-breaks where David Greenlee lives, and that a party

of Ferguson’s were fitted out to kill whig stock, and that they

designing to go to that place, and another party was going to the

Montgomery place—that is the place where Joseph Dobson lives on—for the

like purpose. Carson went with the party going to the Montgomery place,

without informing the party going to the Greenlee place that the cattle

ranging there were Tory stock, the owners being in Ferguson’s camp. The

parties each went to their places of destination, and returned into

camp; those who went to the Greenlee place reported that they had killed

over one hundred head of three, four, five and six year old rebel steers

at the McGonaugh place. J. Carson observed that he expected that those

steers were the stock of Joseph Brown, Dement and Johnstone, who were

there in the camp. Whereupon Brown, Dement and Johnstone went and

discovered that the steers there killed were every one theirs. This

turned the Tories rather against Ferguson; whereupon Ferguson stated

that the Rebels had out-witted him, and that he could not effect his

purpose there—that he would start back to Gilbert Town on a given day.

The news was on its passage to Shelby and Cleveland as soon as the

breath left Ferguson’s mouth—it did not stop day or night—it was soon at

the place of destination. Immediately Shelby directed Campbell and his

men to meet him at a given time at Wautaga and Sevier to meet him and

Campbell at ten o’clock on a given day at the Spring in the Bald Ground,

on the Yellow Mountain, at the side of Bright’s path—all of which were

done with great exactness. He issued orders for Cleveland and Herndon to

meet him on a given day on Silver Creek, in Burke county; and ordered D.

Smith, J. McDowell, Lytle, Patton, and those who had taken protection,

to meet him at Wm. Nail’s by a given night, which was the night next

after the meeting on the Yellow Mountain.

When the officers met at the Spring on the Yellow Mountain, it was

quickly agreed that they would send Col. Charles McDowell with an

express to Gen. Gates, for him to send an experienced officer to conduct

them in a battle with Ferguson, and as soon as Chas. McDowell, with his

silver-mounted Tom. Simpson rifle, had disappeared, steering for the

path on the Linville Ridge, the army descended the Mountain on Bright’s

path and went to Wm. Nail’s that night where they met Daniel Smith,

Thomas Lytle, Joseph McDowell and Robert Patton, the persons who had

driven the whig stock into the coves under the eave of the Black

Mountains, and also those who had taken protection. When it was agreed,

that D. Smith, T. Lytle and J. McDowell should remain at the head of the

river, as they were considered equal to a small army against Indians;

and that the Indians were expected to fall on the frontiers as soon as

Ferguson left it; and that they should have those who had taken

protection to assist them. It was agreed that Joseph McDowell, (now

Gen.) should take twenty men with him, and follow Ferguson’s trail for

fear of surprise—who at the head of Silver Creek, near the Pilot

Mountain, came on a squad of Tories who were designing to follow

Ferguson, and killed some of them and put the rest to flight and

returned to the army in the morning after staying the night at Wm.

Nails’s.

The army marched in to Silver Creek, and at the place appointed met

Cols. Cleveland and Herndon so exactly that it scarcely occasioned a

halt—proceeding on to Cane Creek of Broad River at a place afterwards

called Probit’s place.

Major Billy Chronicle with twenty men joined the army; no halt

called—still proceeding on. At Camp Creek Cols. William Graham, with one

hundred and sixty men well mounted, joined—who gave intelligence that

Ferguson had left Gilbert Town and had crossed Broad River at Twitty’s

Ford on his way to Cruger at Ninety-Six and that Col. Williams was near

to Gilbert Town. It was agreed among the officer’s [while] still on the

march, that Col. Herndon’s foot could not overhaul Ferguson before he

would reach Ninety Six. They then began to count the number of horsemen

that they could raise. Beginning with those under Col. Graham and those

of Major Chronicle, Graham’s men 160, Chronicle’s 20, were to count 200

instead of 180. Campbell mentioned to Chronicle that the lad whom he had

with him should not hear their enumeration. Chronicle replied that he

was a son of “Old Rugged and Tough;” that his cheek was too well hooped

to leak—the lad [Robert Henry] then [listening] is now our surveyor.

They numbered on, and found their true number to be between six and

seven hundred; but told the soldiers it was between 1100 and 2000 [1200]

counting Williams’ men.

Orders were then given for all who were unable, from any cause that

would hinder him in a severe march, should fall back into the foot

troops and give their horses to footmen [who needed them, in order to be

properly equipped for the march]; a number of exchanges were made.

Further orders were given at Gilbert Town to kill some beeves, which was

done; and orders were given for the horsemen to be ready to march at a

given time, which was very short. Some of the troops who were tardy got

none [of the beef?]. The line of march was taken to cross Broad River at

Pear’s Ford, below the mouth of Green River, to take a near cut on

Ferguson on his way to Ninety Six. The day and night were occasionally

showery. We marched on, crossing Ferguson’s trail in the track (?), and

proceeded to the Cowpens and came to a Tory’s house, pulled him out of

bed, treated him roughly, and asked him at what time Ferguson had passed

that place. He said he had not passed at all; that he had torch

pine—that we might light it and search, and if we could find the track

of an army we might hang him, or do what we pleased with him; and if no

sign of an army could be found, he would expect more mild treatment.

Search was made and no sign of an army found.

We then camped, and began to send persons to find Ferguson’s track.

Chronicle proposed to send Enoch Gilmer as one; it was objected to

because he was not acquainted with the country. Chronicle said that he

could find out any thing better than those acquainted, for he could act

any character that he pleased; that he could cry and laugh in the same

breath, and those best acquainted would believe that he was in earnest

in both; that he could act the fool so that those best acquainted with

him would believe him to be deranged; that he was a shrewd, cunning

fellow, and a stranger to fear. Hence he was [sent] among others. He

went to a Tory’s house on Ferguson’s trail and stated to him that he had

been waiting on Ferguson’s way from Twitty’s Ford to Ninety-Six, but

missed finding him; that he wished to join the army. The Tory replied,

that after Ferguson had crossed the river at Twitty’s Ford, he had

received an express from Lord Cornwallis for him to join the main army

at Charlotte; that he had called in Tarleton, and would call in his

out-posts, and give Gates another defeat, and reduce North Carolina to

British rule as he had South Carolina and Georgia, and would enter

Virginia with a larger army than ever had been in America. Gilmer gave

this account to the officers. This was some time in the day. They then

commenced marching to the Cherokee Ford on Broad River. Night came on,

and our pilots missed their way, the night being dark and occasionally

raining, so that when we came near to the river it was near day-light;

and when we came to the river hills it was agreed that we would send

Enoch Gilmer to see whether Ferguson had not been apprised of us and

would attack us in the river. Orders were given to keep our guns dry,

for it was raining. Gilmer was gone for some time, when his voice was

heard in the hollow singing Barney-Linn, a favorite black-guard song.

This was notice that all was right. Orders were given that the largest

horses should be on the upper side. The order was not obeyed. The river

was deep, but it was remarked that not one was ducked. After passing the

river, it was agreed that Enoch Gilmer should go ahead, and make all the

discoveries about Ferguson that he could. He went off in a gallop. The

officers kept in front of the privates at a very slow gait—the men

cursing and stating if we were to have a battle, to let it be over, &c.

All were very hungry, and when we would come to a cornfield, it was soon

pulled. The soldiers would cut part of the raw corn off the cobb, and

haul the remainder to their horses. After travelling some miles, the

officers saw Gilmer’s horse at a gate about three-quarters of a mile

ahead. They gave whip to their horses, and went at full speed to the

gate—alighted, and went into the house. Gilmer was sitting at a table

eating. Campbell exclaimed, “We have got you—you d——d rascal.” Gilmer

replied, “a true King’s man by G——d.” Campbell in order to try Gilmer’s

metamorphosis, had provided himself with a rope, with a running noose on

it, threw it over Gilmer’s neck. Gilmer commenced crying and begging.

Campbell swore that they would hang him on the bow of the gate—when

Chronicle stated that it was wrong to hang him there, for his ghost

would haunt the women, who were now in tears. Campbell observed that was

right, that we will hang him on the first stooping limb of a tree that

they should pass on the road—then sending Gilmer along one or two

hundred yards, Gilmer crying and begging for his life, the rope was

taken from his neck, and he mounted his horse, and was asked what news

he had obtained. He stated as follows:—That when he came to the Tory’s

house, he professed to be a true King’s man, that he was wishing to join

Col. Ferguson, and desired to know where he was, and that he had kissed

the two Tory women; that the youngest of the two informed him, that she

had been in Ferguson’s camp that morning; that the camp was about three

miles distant from that place; that she had carried him some chickens;

that he was camped on a ridge between two branches where some deer

hunters had a camp the last Fall. Major Chronicle and Capt. Mattocks

stated that the camp referred to was their camp, and that they well knew

the ground Ferguson was camped on.

Whereupon it was agreed on that they should plan the battle, as they

knew the ground. They rode a short distance by themselves, and reported

that it was an excellent place to surround Ferguson’s army, as the

shooting would all be up hill—that there would be no danger of our

destroying each other; but doubted whether we had men enough to surround

them. It was then instantly agreed on by all the officers, that we would

attempt to surround our foes. They immediately began to arrange their

men, without stopping and assigning to each officer the part he was to

take in surrounding the hill. By the time this was done, we were close

to our enemy. The last whose duty was to be prescribed was Col. Wm.

Graham with his men, who desired leave of absence, alleging that he had

received certain intelligence that his wife was dying with the colic,

about sixteen miles off, near Armstrong’s Ford on the South Fork.

Campbell stated to him that should be the greatest inducement for him to

stay, that he could carry the news—and if we were successful, it would

be to her as good as a dose of medicine. Graham exclaimed, “Oh my dear,

dear wife! Must I never see her again?” Campbell in an angry tone of

voice turned to Major Chronicle, and said “shall Col. Graham have leave

of absence?” To which Chronicle replied—“it is woman’s business, let him

go.” Campbell told Graham he might go. Graham said he must have an

escort—Chronicle told him he might have one; Graham chose David Dickey.

Dickey said that he would rather be shot in [battle] than go. Chronicle

said—“Dave—You must go.” Dickey said he would rather be shot on the

spot; “but if I must go, I must go, I must.” Then Col. Graham and Dickey

immediately took to the woods, and disappeared.[6]

Campbell then mentioned to Chronicle that as Graham has gone, you must

take his place: Turning to Col. Hambright, Campbell asked “have you any

objections?” He replied, that it was his wish, as Chronicle best knew

the ground. Whereupon Chronicle called “come on, my South Fork boys,”

and took the lead.

The hill was surrounded in a few minutes, and the battle commenced. Our

enemies had two to our one; of course their fire was double that of

ours. We killed 247 of them, and they killed 143 of our side, agreeably

to the account of E. Gilmer and Joseph Beatty, supposed to be the most

accurate of any. So that they having choice of ground, we fought them

two to one; we killed as many more of them as they killed of us, and

took more prisoners than we had men to guard them. But we had not a

coward to face the hill that day—they all faded off, until within ten

minutes of the battle, the last coward left us. Our equals were scarce,

and our superiors hard to find. This is the most particular and accurate

account, my friend, that I can give you.

Whereupon at the head of the Round-About, I made a similar statement to

our chain-bearers, pack-horsemen, &c. Mussentine Matthews made the

following reply: “Ah! you would have been a formidable and destructive

set of blue hen’s chickens among eggs, if each one of you had been

provided with a good stick. When anybody pretends to tell the story of

that transaction, it would be to his credit to play the game of shut

mouth.”[7] This elicited the following reply from Gen. Joseph McDowell:

Before that battle (referring to Ferguson’s defeat,) we had sustained

two shameful and disastrous defeats—that of Gates by treachery; and that

of Sumter by carelessness, in quick succession one after the other—upon

which, the Tories flocked to the British camps, and increased their

numbers to two or three fold; that the country was over-run, and fairly

deluged with them, so much that from the pressure of their numbers, the

souls of the brave, from necessity were obliged to cower under its

weight, and none but the bravest of the brave withstood the shock.

At the time when the news of Gates’ defeat reached Col. Charles

McDowell, he had detached Cols. Shelby and Sevier to go round Ferguson’s

camp to dislodge some British and Tories on the Ennoree, near to

Ninety-Six. He then sent an express to Shelby to take care of himself,

for Gates was defeated. Whereupon Shelby made the best of his way round

Ferguson, and fell in with Charles McDowell and the main body,

retreating towards Gilbert Town. Then it was suggested by Shelby, that a

sufficient force could be raised over the Mountains, with the assistance

from Wilkes and Surry counties, to defeat Ferguson. This was agreed to

by all the officers present. The troops were raised without Government

orders; each man had to furnish his own provisions, arms, ammunition,

horse, and all his equipage, without the value of a gun flint from the

public; without pay, or expectation of pay or reward, even to the amount

of a Continental dollar depreciated to eight hundred to one. They were

all volunteers; they were under no compulsion to go, but each man in

advance consulted his own courage, well knowing he was going to fight

before his return. They started in a rainy, inclement season of the

year, without baggage wagon, pack-horse, or tent cloth, across the most

rugged bar of mountains in the State, and almost pathless, having only a

hunter’s trail to travel, followed Ferguson through all his windings; at

length over took him at King’s Mountain, where he boasted the morning of

the battle, that “he was on King’s Mountain, and that he was king of

that Mountain, and that God Almighty could not drive him from it.” There

we over-hauled him, fought him two to one—hence their fire was double

that of ours; yet we killed 287 [247] of them, to 143 they killed of us.

Yet the fate of nations and of battles turn on a pivot. Ferguson, a

prudent officer, finding himself beset and surrounded on all sides,

ordered his regulars, who had muskets and bayonets, to charge bayonets

on Major Chronicle’s South Fork boys: The regulars having discharged

their muskets at a short distance with effect, in turn the Fork Boys

discharged their rifles with fatal effect, and retreated, keeping before

the points of the bayonets about twenty feet, until they loaded again,

when they discharged their rifles, each man dropping his man. This was

treatment that British courage could not stand; they in turn retreated

with precipitation; then the flag was hoisted, and all was over.

If they had succeeded in the charge, it would have made a pass-way for

his army, and they might have turned on our line on the one side of the

hill, and defeated us in detail, or have made good their march to Lord

Cornwallis at Charlotte, either of which would have been disastrous to

the American cause. We had neither a coward or a traitor to face the

hill that day. We were the bravest of the brave; we were a formidable

flock of blue hen’s chickens of the game blood, of indomitable courage,

and strangers to fear. We were well provided with sticks; we made the

egg shells—British and Tory skulls—fly, like onion peelings in a windy

day; the blue cocks flapped their wings and crowed—“we are all for

Liberty these times;” and all was over; our equals were scarce, and our

superiors hard to find.

Taking the whole campaign, including the battle, I know of no parallel

to it in the annals of ancient or Modern warfare; the nearest was that

of the Grecian Leonidas and his army at the battle of Thermopylae with

the Great Xerxes. Leonidas and his army were found, victualled and

clothed at public expense; each individual of our army had to find at

his own expense; Leonidas’ army were under Governmental orders; we were

under no government at all, but were volunteers; Leonidas’ army were

furnished with arms and camp equipage: We had to find our own arms,

ammunition and horses at our own expense; Leonidas’ army were under

Government pay; we were under no pay or reward, or the expectation of

any; Leonidas’ army had choice of ground at the pass at Thermopylae; our

enemies had the boasted choice of ground; Leonidas’ army had to fight

superior numbers—so had we; Leonidas had never a coward—neither had we

any; but Leonidas had a traitor who was his over-throw and destruction

of all but one man: We had neither coward or traitor to face our

enemy—hence we were successful: Leonidas would have been successful, and

have defeated or put to flight the great Xerxes if he had not had a

traitor aboard; Leonidas’ defeat was the destruction of the fine country

of Greece, and the burning and destruction of their fine city of Athens,

the labor of ages: Our success was the salvation of our country and our

liberty. There is no parallel here: We will see if there is any in

modern times.

The generosity and patriotism of the great Washington has been justly

boasted of; he did not charge the United States anything for his

services during the Revolution; he was found his food and camp equipage

by the public, and every thing else that he stood in need of; his

necessary incidental expenses he kept an accurate account of, and they

were paid by the public; he was paid for every thing else but his

military services. This has been justly considered as great generosity

and patriotism, and ought never to be forgotten. But this fight of the

blue hen’s chickens threw this into the shade of an eclipse.

Now we will make the comparison. Washington was rich, and had no family

to provide for; we were poor, and had families to provide for; he was

provided with a horse, victuals, clothing, arms, camp equipage and

necessary attendance. We had to provide our own horse, victuals,

clothing, arms, ammunition and blankets at our own expense. He charged

nothing for his military services; neither did we charge any thing for

military services, nor did we receive anything for them; he fought the

battles of our country with success; we did the same. The expedition

against Ferguson, including the battle at King’s Mountain, did not cost

the State, or the United States, the worth of a single Continental

dollar depreciated down to eight hundred to one. It was all done at the

expense of bravery of the actors in that transaction. There is no

parallel here.