THE FIGHT OF THE MOUNTAINEERS.
From the narrative of a survivor of the gallant men who participated in the fight at King’s Mountain I wrote the ballad, and aimed to give it the simple style of the narrator. But the old man, perfectly truthful in intent, fell into some errors. He omits all mention of the M’Dowells. Colonel M’Dowell was not in the battle. He objected to fighting a battle without a general officer, and he was despatched in search of one. While gone, the rest elected Colonel Campbell to command, and got to work. Major M’Dowell however remained, and commanded the regiments. He calls Shelby, Evan Shelby. But Evan Shelby, who was Isaac’s father, and who distinguished himself at Point Pleasant, was not at King’s Mountain.COLONEL ISAAC SHELBY.The official account of the battle transmitted to Gates, and probably the correct one, is as follows:“On receiving intelligence that Major Ferguson had advanced up as high as Gilbert Town, in Rutherford County, and threatened to cross the mountains to the Western waters, Colonel William Campbell, with four hundred men, of Washington County, of Virginia, Colonel Isaac Shelby, with two hundred and forty men from Sullivan County, of North Carolina, and Lieutenant-colonel Sevier, with two hundred and forty men, of Washington County, of North Carolina, assembled at Watauga, on the twenty-fifth day of September, where they were joined by Colonel Charles M’Dowell, with one hundred and sixty men, from the counties of Burke and Rutherford, who had fled before the enemy to the Western waters. We began our march on the twenty-sixth, and on the thirtieth we were joined by Colonel Cleaveland, on the Catawba River, with three hundred men, from the counties of Wilkes and Surrey. No one officer having properly the right to the command-in-chief, on the first of October we despatched an express to Major-general Gates, informing him of our situation, and requested him to send a general officer to take command of the whole. In the mean time, Colonel Campbell was chosen to act as commandant, till such general officer should arrive. We marched to theCowpens, on Broad River, in South Carolina, where we were joined by Colonel James Williams, with four hundred men, on the evening of the sixth of October, who informed us that the enemy lay encamped somewhere near the Cherokee Ford, off Broad River, about thirty miles distant from us. By a council of principal officers, it was then thought advisable to pursue the enemy that night with nine hundred of the best horsemen, and have the weak horse and foot men to follow us as fast as possible. We began our march with nine hundred of the best men about eight o’clock the same evening, and, marching all night, came up with the enemy about three o’clock P.M. of the seventh, who lay encamped on the top of King’s Mountain, twelve miles north of the Cherokee Ford, in the confidence that they could not be forced from so advantageous a post. Previous to the attack on our march, the following disposition was made: Colonel Shelby’s regiment formed a column in the centre on the left; Colonel Campbell’s regiment another on the right, with part of Colonel Cleaveland’s regiment, headed in front by MajorJoseph Winston; and Colonel Sevier’s formed a large column on the right wing. The other part of Cleaveland’s regiment, headed by Colonel Cleaveland himself, and Colonel Williams’s regiment, composed the left wing. In this order we advanced, and got within a quarter of a mile of the enemy before we were discovered. Colonel Shelby’s and Colonel Campbell’s regiments began the attack, and kept up a fire on the enemy, while the right and left wings were advancing to surround them, which was done in about five minutes, when the fire became general all around. The engagement lasted an hour and five minutes, the greater part of which a heavy and incessant fire was kept up on both sides. Our men, in some parts where the regulars fought, were obliged to give way a distance, two or three times, but rallied and returned with additional ardor to the attack. The troops upon the right having gained the summit of the eminence, obliged the enemy to retreat along the summit of the ridge to where Colonel Cleaveland commanded, and were there stopped by his brave men. A flag was immediately hoisted by Captain Depeyster, the commanding officer (Major Ferguson having been killed a little before), for a surrender. Our fire immediately ceased, and the enemy laid down their arms (the greater part of them charged) and surrendered themselves prisoners at discretion. It appears from their own provision returns for that day, found in their camp, that their whole force consisted of eleven hundred and twenty-five men, out of which they sustained the following loss:“Of the regulars, one major, one captain, two sergeants, and fifteen privates killed; thirty-five privates wounded, left on the ground not able to march; two captains, four lieutenants, three ensigns, one surgeon, five sergeants, three corporals, one drummer, and forty-nine privates taken prisoners.“Loss of the Tories: two colonels, three captains, and two hundred and one killed; one major and one hundred and twenty-seven privates wounded, and left on the ground not able to march. One colonel, twelve captains, eleven lieutenants, two ensigns, one quartermaster, one adjutant, two commissaries, eighteen sergeants, and six hundred privates taken prisoners.“Total loss of the enemy, eleven hundred and five men at King’s Mountain.“Given under our hands at camp.“Benja. Cleaveland,Isaac Shelby,Wm. Campbell.”
From the narrative of a survivor of the gallant men who participated in the fight at King’s Mountain I wrote the ballad, and aimed to give it the simple style of the narrator. But the old man, perfectly truthful in intent, fell into some errors. He omits all mention of the M’Dowells. Colonel M’Dowell was not in the battle. He objected to fighting a battle without a general officer, and he was despatched in search of one. While gone, the rest elected Colonel Campbell to command, and got to work. Major M’Dowell however remained, and commanded the regiments. He calls Shelby, Evan Shelby. But Evan Shelby, who was Isaac’s father, and who distinguished himself at Point Pleasant, was not at King’s Mountain.
COLONEL ISAAC SHELBY.
COLONEL ISAAC SHELBY.
COLONEL ISAAC SHELBY.
The official account of the battle transmitted to Gates, and probably the correct one, is as follows:
“On receiving intelligence that Major Ferguson had advanced up as high as Gilbert Town, in Rutherford County, and threatened to cross the mountains to the Western waters, Colonel William Campbell, with four hundred men, of Washington County, of Virginia, Colonel Isaac Shelby, with two hundred and forty men from Sullivan County, of North Carolina, and Lieutenant-colonel Sevier, with two hundred and forty men, of Washington County, of North Carolina, assembled at Watauga, on the twenty-fifth day of September, where they were joined by Colonel Charles M’Dowell, with one hundred and sixty men, from the counties of Burke and Rutherford, who had fled before the enemy to the Western waters. We began our march on the twenty-sixth, and on the thirtieth we were joined by Colonel Cleaveland, on the Catawba River, with three hundred men, from the counties of Wilkes and Surrey. No one officer having properly the right to the command-in-chief, on the first of October we despatched an express to Major-general Gates, informing him of our situation, and requested him to send a general officer to take command of the whole. In the mean time, Colonel Campbell was chosen to act as commandant, till such general officer should arrive. We marched to theCowpens, on Broad River, in South Carolina, where we were joined by Colonel James Williams, with four hundred men, on the evening of the sixth of October, who informed us that the enemy lay encamped somewhere near the Cherokee Ford, off Broad River, about thirty miles distant from us. By a council of principal officers, it was then thought advisable to pursue the enemy that night with nine hundred of the best horsemen, and have the weak horse and foot men to follow us as fast as possible. We began our march with nine hundred of the best men about eight o’clock the same evening, and, marching all night, came up with the enemy about three o’clock P.M. of the seventh, who lay encamped on the top of King’s Mountain, twelve miles north of the Cherokee Ford, in the confidence that they could not be forced from so advantageous a post. Previous to the attack on our march, the following disposition was made: Colonel Shelby’s regiment formed a column in the centre on the left; Colonel Campbell’s regiment another on the right, with part of Colonel Cleaveland’s regiment, headed in front by MajorJoseph Winston; and Colonel Sevier’s formed a large column on the right wing. The other part of Cleaveland’s regiment, headed by Colonel Cleaveland himself, and Colonel Williams’s regiment, composed the left wing. In this order we advanced, and got within a quarter of a mile of the enemy before we were discovered. Colonel Shelby’s and Colonel Campbell’s regiments began the attack, and kept up a fire on the enemy, while the right and left wings were advancing to surround them, which was done in about five minutes, when the fire became general all around. The engagement lasted an hour and five minutes, the greater part of which a heavy and incessant fire was kept up on both sides. Our men, in some parts where the regulars fought, were obliged to give way a distance, two or three times, but rallied and returned with additional ardor to the attack. The troops upon the right having gained the summit of the eminence, obliged the enemy to retreat along the summit of the ridge to where Colonel Cleaveland commanded, and were there stopped by his brave men. A flag was immediately hoisted by Captain Depeyster, the commanding officer (Major Ferguson having been killed a little before), for a surrender. Our fire immediately ceased, and the enemy laid down their arms (the greater part of them charged) and surrendered themselves prisoners at discretion. It appears from their own provision returns for that day, found in their camp, that their whole force consisted of eleven hundred and twenty-five men, out of which they sustained the following loss:
“Of the regulars, one major, one captain, two sergeants, and fifteen privates killed; thirty-five privates wounded, left on the ground not able to march; two captains, four lieutenants, three ensigns, one surgeon, five sergeants, three corporals, one drummer, and forty-nine privates taken prisoners.
“Loss of the Tories: two colonels, three captains, and two hundred and one killed; one major and one hundred and twenty-seven privates wounded, and left on the ground not able to march. One colonel, twelve captains, eleven lieutenants, two ensigns, one quartermaster, one adjutant, two commissaries, eighteen sergeants, and six hundred privates taken prisoners.
“Total loss of the enemy, eleven hundred and five men at King’s Mountain.
“Given under our hands at camp.
“Benja. Cleaveland,Isaac Shelby,Wm. Campbell.”
KING’S MOUNTAIN BATTLE-GROUND.
KING’S MOUNTAIN BATTLE-GROUND.
KING’S MOUNTAIN BATTLE-GROUND.
I.
You ask your grandsire hoaryTo tell you of the day,When, in his lusty manhood’s prime,To fight he took his way.So here beside our cabin,Deep in the Baptist Yale,While sinks the sun within the west,And light begins to fail—Upon the lofty summit,Before the set of sun,I’ll tell you how by mountaineersThe battle-field was won.
You ask your grandsire hoaryTo tell you of the day,When, in his lusty manhood’s prime,To fight he took his way.So here beside our cabin,Deep in the Baptist Yale,While sinks the sun within the west,And light begins to fail—Upon the lofty summit,Before the set of sun,I’ll tell you how by mountaineersThe battle-field was won.
You ask your grandsire hoaryTo tell you of the day,When, in his lusty manhood’s prime,To fight he took his way.
You ask your grandsire hoary
To tell you of the day,
When, in his lusty manhood’s prime,
To fight he took his way.
So here beside our cabin,Deep in the Baptist Yale,While sinks the sun within the west,And light begins to fail—
So here beside our cabin,
Deep in the Baptist Yale,
While sinks the sun within the west,
And light begins to fail—
Upon the lofty summit,Before the set of sun,I’ll tell you how by mountaineersThe battle-field was won.
Upon the lofty summit,
Before the set of sun,
I’ll tell you how by mountaineers
The battle-field was won.
II.
In Southern CarolinaCornwallis settled down;And Forguson twelve hundred led,In pride from Gilbert Town.For Gates was crushed at Camden,And only Marion’s bandLay, but a remnant of itself,Within the low swamp-land.The cause was hid in darkness,And few expected dawn,For strength had fled, and fire was dead,And even hope was gone.Then spoke old Evan ShelbyTo Campbell and Sevier—“Shall base maurauders revel thus,As we sit idle here?“Up steep and stern King’s MountainWent Forguson, I learn;Should men take heart to deal a blow,He never would return.“Out then and scour the counties,Our forces shall combine,And, ready for the battle, crossThe Carolina line.”Said gallant William Campbell—“I’m with you there, old friend;Though borne by numbers to the earth,We will not break nor bend.“Three hundred western huntersI volunteer to bring,All loyal to their country’s cause,Though rebel to the king.“All hardy western hunters,Who serve for love, not hire;Each prompt to mark the foeman dark,And drop him when they fire.”Sevier was in their counsel—“Three hundred I can bringTo meet these savage myrmidonsOf George, our former king.“Each man is firm and fearless,Each uses rifle well;Nor sabre-stroke, nor musket-ball,Upon our ranks may tell.“From home or over oceanThey fear no haughty foes—”’Twas thus he boasted of his band,And I was one of those.Then word went out that Shelby,With Campbell and Sevier,Against the common enemyWould lead the mountaineer.With moccasons corked, and riflesNew flinted every one,Right soon a thousand brave and strongWere gathered at Doe Run.To them came Cleaveland’s forces,When once they left the glen,And mounted on their own good steedsRode sixteen hundred men.Campbell, as chief commander,The centre column led;And with him Shelby’s regiment,With Shelby at its head.The left was led by Cleaveland,The right obeyed Sevier;And like the sky which bent o’erheadEach brow was calm and clear.Then this laconic orderWas passed both left and right—“Tie overcoats, pick touch-holes, prime,And ready be for fight!”We neared where they stood waiting,And cleft our force in three;And then dismounting, to the limbsTied horses silently.The centre up the mountainPressed eager to the fight,While round the base, to gain his rear,The wings swept left and right.In calm and deadly silence,With firm and steady tramp,On pressed our three divisions towardsThe centre of their camp.Then came their muskets’ rattle,And comrades at my side,Whom I had known for many years,Were stricken down, and died.Uriah Byrne, of Black Fork,A younger man than I—His hot blood spurting in my face—Fell at my feet to die.And swarthy Robin Harper,Whose house was nigh to mine,Pierced by a bullet, fell and leftA wife and orphans nine.And golden-haired John Bowen,A boy scarce past sixteen—I knew his mother ere his birth,And few so fair I’ve seen—A woman fair and stately,Who loved her husband well,And mourned, nor ever wedded more,When he in battle fell.She sent with us this stripling,And thus to him she said,“Return with honor to your home,Or stay among the dead.“You are the stay and comfortOf my declining years;That I am loath to part with you,Witness these bitter tears.“But now these foul invadersSweep hill and valley o’er,Go! drive them from these mountains free,Or see my face no more!”And there I saw his ringletsLie, bloody, on his cheek;I caught his eye, and stooped to hearThe words that he might speak.“A message to my mother,If you survive the day:And say her darling son was stillThe foremost in the fray.“My spirit to my MakerI yield, and trust that HeForgives my sins for sake of HimWho died upon the tree.“Yet ’tis a thing of terror,When youthful hopes are bright,And youthful blood flows full and free,To bid the world good-night.“Go, comrade, to your duty,And leave me here to die—”His pulses stopped, I turned away,I had no time to sigh.But filled with sudden fury,I joined the strife again,Nor paused to watch the fight aroundTill I three foes had slain—One for my early schoolmate,One for my neighbor old,And one for him with golden hairThat lay so stark and cold.The foe raised shouts exulting;We answered not at all;But still with steady coolness pouredOur rain of rifle-ball.But hark! a voice is ringingAs clearly as a drum—’Tis Forguson’s—“Charge bayonet!And drive the rebel scum!”
In Southern CarolinaCornwallis settled down;And Forguson twelve hundred led,In pride from Gilbert Town.For Gates was crushed at Camden,And only Marion’s bandLay, but a remnant of itself,Within the low swamp-land.The cause was hid in darkness,And few expected dawn,For strength had fled, and fire was dead,And even hope was gone.Then spoke old Evan ShelbyTo Campbell and Sevier—“Shall base maurauders revel thus,As we sit idle here?“Up steep and stern King’s MountainWent Forguson, I learn;Should men take heart to deal a blow,He never would return.“Out then and scour the counties,Our forces shall combine,And, ready for the battle, crossThe Carolina line.”Said gallant William Campbell—“I’m with you there, old friend;Though borne by numbers to the earth,We will not break nor bend.“Three hundred western huntersI volunteer to bring,All loyal to their country’s cause,Though rebel to the king.“All hardy western hunters,Who serve for love, not hire;Each prompt to mark the foeman dark,And drop him when they fire.”Sevier was in their counsel—“Three hundred I can bringTo meet these savage myrmidonsOf George, our former king.“Each man is firm and fearless,Each uses rifle well;Nor sabre-stroke, nor musket-ball,Upon our ranks may tell.“From home or over oceanThey fear no haughty foes—”’Twas thus he boasted of his band,And I was one of those.Then word went out that Shelby,With Campbell and Sevier,Against the common enemyWould lead the mountaineer.With moccasons corked, and riflesNew flinted every one,Right soon a thousand brave and strongWere gathered at Doe Run.To them came Cleaveland’s forces,When once they left the glen,And mounted on their own good steedsRode sixteen hundred men.Campbell, as chief commander,The centre column led;And with him Shelby’s regiment,With Shelby at its head.The left was led by Cleaveland,The right obeyed Sevier;And like the sky which bent o’erheadEach brow was calm and clear.Then this laconic orderWas passed both left and right—“Tie overcoats, pick touch-holes, prime,And ready be for fight!”We neared where they stood waiting,And cleft our force in three;And then dismounting, to the limbsTied horses silently.The centre up the mountainPressed eager to the fight,While round the base, to gain his rear,The wings swept left and right.In calm and deadly silence,With firm and steady tramp,On pressed our three divisions towardsThe centre of their camp.Then came their muskets’ rattle,And comrades at my side,Whom I had known for many years,Were stricken down, and died.Uriah Byrne, of Black Fork,A younger man than I—His hot blood spurting in my face—Fell at my feet to die.And swarthy Robin Harper,Whose house was nigh to mine,Pierced by a bullet, fell and leftA wife and orphans nine.And golden-haired John Bowen,A boy scarce past sixteen—I knew his mother ere his birth,And few so fair I’ve seen—A woman fair and stately,Who loved her husband well,And mourned, nor ever wedded more,When he in battle fell.She sent with us this stripling,And thus to him she said,“Return with honor to your home,Or stay among the dead.“You are the stay and comfortOf my declining years;That I am loath to part with you,Witness these bitter tears.“But now these foul invadersSweep hill and valley o’er,Go! drive them from these mountains free,Or see my face no more!”And there I saw his ringletsLie, bloody, on his cheek;I caught his eye, and stooped to hearThe words that he might speak.“A message to my mother,If you survive the day:And say her darling son was stillThe foremost in the fray.“My spirit to my MakerI yield, and trust that HeForgives my sins for sake of HimWho died upon the tree.“Yet ’tis a thing of terror,When youthful hopes are bright,And youthful blood flows full and free,To bid the world good-night.“Go, comrade, to your duty,And leave me here to die—”His pulses stopped, I turned away,I had no time to sigh.But filled with sudden fury,I joined the strife again,Nor paused to watch the fight aroundTill I three foes had slain—One for my early schoolmate,One for my neighbor old,And one for him with golden hairThat lay so stark and cold.The foe raised shouts exulting;We answered not at all;But still with steady coolness pouredOur rain of rifle-ball.But hark! a voice is ringingAs clearly as a drum—’Tis Forguson’s—“Charge bayonet!And drive the rebel scum!”
In Southern CarolinaCornwallis settled down;And Forguson twelve hundred led,In pride from Gilbert Town.
In Southern Carolina
Cornwallis settled down;
And Forguson twelve hundred led,
In pride from Gilbert Town.
For Gates was crushed at Camden,And only Marion’s bandLay, but a remnant of itself,Within the low swamp-land.
For Gates was crushed at Camden,
And only Marion’s band
Lay, but a remnant of itself,
Within the low swamp-land.
The cause was hid in darkness,And few expected dawn,For strength had fled, and fire was dead,And even hope was gone.
The cause was hid in darkness,
And few expected dawn,
For strength had fled, and fire was dead,
And even hope was gone.
Then spoke old Evan ShelbyTo Campbell and Sevier—“Shall base maurauders revel thus,As we sit idle here?
Then spoke old Evan Shelby
To Campbell and Sevier—
“Shall base maurauders revel thus,
As we sit idle here?
“Up steep and stern King’s MountainWent Forguson, I learn;Should men take heart to deal a blow,He never would return.
“Up steep and stern King’s Mountain
Went Forguson, I learn;
Should men take heart to deal a blow,
He never would return.
“Out then and scour the counties,Our forces shall combine,And, ready for the battle, crossThe Carolina line.”
“Out then and scour the counties,
Our forces shall combine,
And, ready for the battle, cross
The Carolina line.”
Said gallant William Campbell—“I’m with you there, old friend;Though borne by numbers to the earth,We will not break nor bend.
Said gallant William Campbell—
“I’m with you there, old friend;
Though borne by numbers to the earth,
We will not break nor bend.
“Three hundred western huntersI volunteer to bring,All loyal to their country’s cause,Though rebel to the king.
“Three hundred western hunters
I volunteer to bring,
All loyal to their country’s cause,
Though rebel to the king.
“All hardy western hunters,Who serve for love, not hire;Each prompt to mark the foeman dark,And drop him when they fire.”
“All hardy western hunters,
Who serve for love, not hire;
Each prompt to mark the foeman dark,
And drop him when they fire.”
Sevier was in their counsel—“Three hundred I can bringTo meet these savage myrmidonsOf George, our former king.
Sevier was in their counsel—
“Three hundred I can bring
To meet these savage myrmidons
Of George, our former king.
“Each man is firm and fearless,Each uses rifle well;Nor sabre-stroke, nor musket-ball,Upon our ranks may tell.
“Each man is firm and fearless,
Each uses rifle well;
Nor sabre-stroke, nor musket-ball,
Upon our ranks may tell.
“From home or over oceanThey fear no haughty foes—”’Twas thus he boasted of his band,And I was one of those.
“From home or over ocean
They fear no haughty foes—”
’Twas thus he boasted of his band,
And I was one of those.
Then word went out that Shelby,With Campbell and Sevier,Against the common enemyWould lead the mountaineer.
Then word went out that Shelby,
With Campbell and Sevier,
Against the common enemy
Would lead the mountaineer.
With moccasons corked, and riflesNew flinted every one,Right soon a thousand brave and strongWere gathered at Doe Run.
With moccasons corked, and rifles
New flinted every one,
Right soon a thousand brave and strong
Were gathered at Doe Run.
To them came Cleaveland’s forces,When once they left the glen,And mounted on their own good steedsRode sixteen hundred men.
To them came Cleaveland’s forces,
When once they left the glen,
And mounted on their own good steeds
Rode sixteen hundred men.
Campbell, as chief commander,The centre column led;And with him Shelby’s regiment,With Shelby at its head.
Campbell, as chief commander,
The centre column led;
And with him Shelby’s regiment,
With Shelby at its head.
The left was led by Cleaveland,The right obeyed Sevier;And like the sky which bent o’erheadEach brow was calm and clear.
The left was led by Cleaveland,
The right obeyed Sevier;
And like the sky which bent o’erhead
Each brow was calm and clear.
Then this laconic orderWas passed both left and right—“Tie overcoats, pick touch-holes, prime,And ready be for fight!”
Then this laconic order
Was passed both left and right—
“Tie overcoats, pick touch-holes, prime,
And ready be for fight!”
We neared where they stood waiting,And cleft our force in three;And then dismounting, to the limbsTied horses silently.
We neared where they stood waiting,
And cleft our force in three;
And then dismounting, to the limbs
Tied horses silently.
The centre up the mountainPressed eager to the fight,While round the base, to gain his rear,The wings swept left and right.
The centre up the mountain
Pressed eager to the fight,
While round the base, to gain his rear,
The wings swept left and right.
In calm and deadly silence,With firm and steady tramp,On pressed our three divisions towardsThe centre of their camp.
In calm and deadly silence,
With firm and steady tramp,
On pressed our three divisions towards
The centre of their camp.
Then came their muskets’ rattle,And comrades at my side,Whom I had known for many years,Were stricken down, and died.
Then came their muskets’ rattle,
And comrades at my side,
Whom I had known for many years,
Were stricken down, and died.
Uriah Byrne, of Black Fork,A younger man than I—His hot blood spurting in my face—Fell at my feet to die.
Uriah Byrne, of Black Fork,
A younger man than I—
His hot blood spurting in my face—
Fell at my feet to die.
And swarthy Robin Harper,Whose house was nigh to mine,Pierced by a bullet, fell and leftA wife and orphans nine.
And swarthy Robin Harper,
Whose house was nigh to mine,
Pierced by a bullet, fell and left
A wife and orphans nine.
And golden-haired John Bowen,A boy scarce past sixteen—I knew his mother ere his birth,And few so fair I’ve seen—
And golden-haired John Bowen,
A boy scarce past sixteen—
I knew his mother ere his birth,
And few so fair I’ve seen—
A woman fair and stately,Who loved her husband well,And mourned, nor ever wedded more,When he in battle fell.
A woman fair and stately,
Who loved her husband well,
And mourned, nor ever wedded more,
When he in battle fell.
She sent with us this stripling,And thus to him she said,“Return with honor to your home,Or stay among the dead.
She sent with us this stripling,
And thus to him she said,
“Return with honor to your home,
Or stay among the dead.
“You are the stay and comfortOf my declining years;That I am loath to part with you,Witness these bitter tears.
“You are the stay and comfort
Of my declining years;
That I am loath to part with you,
Witness these bitter tears.
“But now these foul invadersSweep hill and valley o’er,Go! drive them from these mountains free,Or see my face no more!”
“But now these foul invaders
Sweep hill and valley o’er,
Go! drive them from these mountains free,
Or see my face no more!”
And there I saw his ringletsLie, bloody, on his cheek;I caught his eye, and stooped to hearThe words that he might speak.
And there I saw his ringlets
Lie, bloody, on his cheek;
I caught his eye, and stooped to hear
The words that he might speak.
“A message to my mother,If you survive the day:And say her darling son was stillThe foremost in the fray.
“A message to my mother,
If you survive the day:
And say her darling son was still
The foremost in the fray.
“My spirit to my MakerI yield, and trust that HeForgives my sins for sake of HimWho died upon the tree.
“My spirit to my Maker
I yield, and trust that He
Forgives my sins for sake of Him
Who died upon the tree.
“Yet ’tis a thing of terror,When youthful hopes are bright,And youthful blood flows full and free,To bid the world good-night.
“Yet ’tis a thing of terror,
When youthful hopes are bright,
And youthful blood flows full and free,
To bid the world good-night.
“Go, comrade, to your duty,And leave me here to die—”His pulses stopped, I turned away,I had no time to sigh.
“Go, comrade, to your duty,
And leave me here to die—”
His pulses stopped, I turned away,
I had no time to sigh.
But filled with sudden fury,I joined the strife again,Nor paused to watch the fight aroundTill I three foes had slain—
But filled with sudden fury,
I joined the strife again,
Nor paused to watch the fight around
Till I three foes had slain—
One for my early schoolmate,One for my neighbor old,And one for him with golden hairThat lay so stark and cold.
One for my early schoolmate,
One for my neighbor old,
And one for him with golden hair
That lay so stark and cold.
The foe raised shouts exulting;We answered not at all;But still with steady coolness pouredOur rain of rifle-ball.
The foe raised shouts exulting;
We answered not at all;
But still with steady coolness poured
Our rain of rifle-ball.
But hark! a voice is ringingAs clearly as a drum—’Tis Forguson’s—“Charge bayonet!And drive the rebel scum!”
But hark! a voice is ringing
As clearly as a drum—
’Tis Forguson’s—“Charge bayonet!
And drive the rebel scum!”
III.
Down gallantly and boldlyThe British soldiers came,When on their wall of bristling steelWe hurled our scorching flame.They paused a single moment,And then they broke and fled;But Forguson re-formed their ranks,Proud riding at their head.They fell on us like panthersIn laurel roughs at bay,And at their front, compact and firm,The Cleaveland men gave way.But ere a rod they drove them,Sevier came back again,And up the ridge the Britons ran,Thinned by the leaden rain.Relieved by reinforcements,They wheeled and charged again,O’er rock and hillock, log and stone,And through the heaps of slain.On Shelby and on CampbellThey charged in wrath once more,Though every step they made in frontWas in their comrades’ gore.But Cleaveland now had rallied,Sevier kept firing fierce,And through our solid centre thereThey vainly strove to pierce.Then first there rose our shouting,And rang our wild hurra;For well we knew that they would loseAnd we would win the day.It roused the Briton’s anger,Who bade his men stand fast;And, turning, tried another charge,The fourth one and the last.But now our blood had risen,The hour of fury came;And driving them within their lines,We hemmed them round with flame.The dead lay heaped around us,The ground with blood was wet;And gouts of gore hung dripping thereFrom knife and bayonet.But still our hardy hunters,As when the fight began,Kept plying trigger busily,And no one missed his man.Still smaller grew the circleAround the loyal band;Still fell our long-pent hate uponThe spoiler of our land.Hark! Forguson is speaking!His voice is stern and low—“To saddle, horsemen! Sabres draw!And charge upon the foe!”Ah! deadly was that order,For, as upon his horseEach horseman strove to mount, he fellOr wounded or a corse.But with his heart undaunted,The soldier of the crownContrived to save one section there,And bade it ride us down.Down came the bold Dupoister,And down came Forguson:We held our fire, for well we knewOur work was nearly done.Down came they like a torrent—A stream of bold and brave;We met them like the solid rockThat breaks to foam the wave.The clinking of their horse-hoofsWas only heard at first,Then came a sound as sharp and loudAs though a mine had burst;Down falls both horse and rider,Backward the charge rebounds,And down falls gallant ForgusonWith seven mortal wounds.The tide was spent and harmless;Ere we could fire again,Up went the white, appealing flag—None raised to us in vain.Up went a cry for quarter,And down their muskets fell,While rang our cry of victoryThrough nook, ravine, and dell.And so upon King’s Mountain,From rise till set of sun,By hardy western mountaineersThe battle-field was won.
Down gallantly and boldlyThe British soldiers came,When on their wall of bristling steelWe hurled our scorching flame.They paused a single moment,And then they broke and fled;But Forguson re-formed their ranks,Proud riding at their head.They fell on us like panthersIn laurel roughs at bay,And at their front, compact and firm,The Cleaveland men gave way.But ere a rod they drove them,Sevier came back again,And up the ridge the Britons ran,Thinned by the leaden rain.Relieved by reinforcements,They wheeled and charged again,O’er rock and hillock, log and stone,And through the heaps of slain.On Shelby and on CampbellThey charged in wrath once more,Though every step they made in frontWas in their comrades’ gore.But Cleaveland now had rallied,Sevier kept firing fierce,And through our solid centre thereThey vainly strove to pierce.Then first there rose our shouting,And rang our wild hurra;For well we knew that they would loseAnd we would win the day.It roused the Briton’s anger,Who bade his men stand fast;And, turning, tried another charge,The fourth one and the last.But now our blood had risen,The hour of fury came;And driving them within their lines,We hemmed them round with flame.The dead lay heaped around us,The ground with blood was wet;And gouts of gore hung dripping thereFrom knife and bayonet.But still our hardy hunters,As when the fight began,Kept plying trigger busily,And no one missed his man.Still smaller grew the circleAround the loyal band;Still fell our long-pent hate uponThe spoiler of our land.Hark! Forguson is speaking!His voice is stern and low—“To saddle, horsemen! Sabres draw!And charge upon the foe!”Ah! deadly was that order,For, as upon his horseEach horseman strove to mount, he fellOr wounded or a corse.But with his heart undaunted,The soldier of the crownContrived to save one section there,And bade it ride us down.Down came the bold Dupoister,And down came Forguson:We held our fire, for well we knewOur work was nearly done.Down came they like a torrent—A stream of bold and brave;We met them like the solid rockThat breaks to foam the wave.The clinking of their horse-hoofsWas only heard at first,Then came a sound as sharp and loudAs though a mine had burst;Down falls both horse and rider,Backward the charge rebounds,And down falls gallant ForgusonWith seven mortal wounds.The tide was spent and harmless;Ere we could fire again,Up went the white, appealing flag—None raised to us in vain.Up went a cry for quarter,And down their muskets fell,While rang our cry of victoryThrough nook, ravine, and dell.And so upon King’s Mountain,From rise till set of sun,By hardy western mountaineersThe battle-field was won.
Down gallantly and boldlyThe British soldiers came,When on their wall of bristling steelWe hurled our scorching flame.
Down gallantly and boldly
The British soldiers came,
When on their wall of bristling steel
We hurled our scorching flame.
They paused a single moment,And then they broke and fled;But Forguson re-formed their ranks,Proud riding at their head.
They paused a single moment,
And then they broke and fled;
But Forguson re-formed their ranks,
Proud riding at their head.
They fell on us like panthersIn laurel roughs at bay,And at their front, compact and firm,The Cleaveland men gave way.
They fell on us like panthers
In laurel roughs at bay,
And at their front, compact and firm,
The Cleaveland men gave way.
But ere a rod they drove them,Sevier came back again,And up the ridge the Britons ran,Thinned by the leaden rain.
But ere a rod they drove them,
Sevier came back again,
And up the ridge the Britons ran,
Thinned by the leaden rain.
Relieved by reinforcements,They wheeled and charged again,O’er rock and hillock, log and stone,And through the heaps of slain.
Relieved by reinforcements,
They wheeled and charged again,
O’er rock and hillock, log and stone,
And through the heaps of slain.
On Shelby and on CampbellThey charged in wrath once more,Though every step they made in frontWas in their comrades’ gore.
On Shelby and on Campbell
They charged in wrath once more,
Though every step they made in front
Was in their comrades’ gore.
But Cleaveland now had rallied,Sevier kept firing fierce,And through our solid centre thereThey vainly strove to pierce.
But Cleaveland now had rallied,
Sevier kept firing fierce,
And through our solid centre there
They vainly strove to pierce.
Then first there rose our shouting,And rang our wild hurra;For well we knew that they would loseAnd we would win the day.
Then first there rose our shouting,
And rang our wild hurra;
For well we knew that they would lose
And we would win the day.
It roused the Briton’s anger,Who bade his men stand fast;And, turning, tried another charge,The fourth one and the last.
It roused the Briton’s anger,
Who bade his men stand fast;
And, turning, tried another charge,
The fourth one and the last.
But now our blood had risen,The hour of fury came;And driving them within their lines,We hemmed them round with flame.
But now our blood had risen,
The hour of fury came;
And driving them within their lines,
We hemmed them round with flame.
The dead lay heaped around us,The ground with blood was wet;And gouts of gore hung dripping thereFrom knife and bayonet.
The dead lay heaped around us,
The ground with blood was wet;
And gouts of gore hung dripping there
From knife and bayonet.
But still our hardy hunters,As when the fight began,Kept plying trigger busily,And no one missed his man.
But still our hardy hunters,
As when the fight began,
Kept plying trigger busily,
And no one missed his man.
Still smaller grew the circleAround the loyal band;Still fell our long-pent hate uponThe spoiler of our land.
Still smaller grew the circle
Around the loyal band;
Still fell our long-pent hate upon
The spoiler of our land.
Hark! Forguson is speaking!His voice is stern and low—“To saddle, horsemen! Sabres draw!And charge upon the foe!”
Hark! Forguson is speaking!
His voice is stern and low—
“To saddle, horsemen! Sabres draw!
And charge upon the foe!”
Ah! deadly was that order,For, as upon his horseEach horseman strove to mount, he fellOr wounded or a corse.
Ah! deadly was that order,
For, as upon his horse
Each horseman strove to mount, he fell
Or wounded or a corse.
But with his heart undaunted,The soldier of the crownContrived to save one section there,And bade it ride us down.
But with his heart undaunted,
The soldier of the crown
Contrived to save one section there,
And bade it ride us down.
Down came the bold Dupoister,And down came Forguson:We held our fire, for well we knewOur work was nearly done.
Down came the bold Dupoister,
And down came Forguson:
We held our fire, for well we knew
Our work was nearly done.
Down came they like a torrent—A stream of bold and brave;We met them like the solid rockThat breaks to foam the wave.
Down came they like a torrent—
A stream of bold and brave;
We met them like the solid rock
That breaks to foam the wave.
The clinking of their horse-hoofsWas only heard at first,Then came a sound as sharp and loudAs though a mine had burst;
The clinking of their horse-hoofs
Was only heard at first,
Then came a sound as sharp and loud
As though a mine had burst;
Down falls both horse and rider,Backward the charge rebounds,And down falls gallant ForgusonWith seven mortal wounds.
Down falls both horse and rider,
Backward the charge rebounds,
And down falls gallant Forguson
With seven mortal wounds.
The tide was spent and harmless;Ere we could fire again,Up went the white, appealing flag—None raised to us in vain.
The tide was spent and harmless;
Ere we could fire again,
Up went the white, appealing flag—
None raised to us in vain.
Up went a cry for quarter,And down their muskets fell,While rang our cry of victoryThrough nook, ravine, and dell.
Up went a cry for quarter,
And down their muskets fell,
While rang our cry of victory
Through nook, ravine, and dell.
And so upon King’s Mountain,From rise till set of sun,By hardy western mountaineersThe battle-field was won.
And so upon King’s Mountain,
From rise till set of sun,
By hardy western mountaineers
The battle-field was won.