The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1838-10-27
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the Southern Citizen
LANNON'S MARE.
/. The Creek Indians.

The exploits of Fannon, the famous tory
partizan Of Randolph, would make body Of
facts more interesting than any tale Of fiction
He was reckless fellow--bloody minded as
the hounds Of Hayti. He sometimes slew
the helpless and innocent in cold blood-the
coward! But he had that instructive tone and
bearing of authority that keeps his people
within the metes and bounds Of his own des-
potc will. He and his party were one day
resting themselves by spring, lounging here
and there on the green grass, in the shade Of
the trees. One of his subordinates, big,
strong man, had got mad with him. His rage
had been boiling in him for several days and
some fresh affront at the spring caused his
anger to become ungovemable--he drew his
sword, and was resting with his elbow on the
ground and his hand under his head. His
devoted followers were around him, and he
heard the click Of their locks, as they cooked
their rifles. Let him alone p cried Fan
non' in his quick sharp; tone. He laid still,
Eyes, fixed on the raging lieutenant, as Inc
made tremendous plunge at his breast. But
when the stroke came, its object swerved
away like snake, and the baffled man plung-
ed his sword into the ground. Quick as light
his gigantic form" Thus and thus I punish
those who disregard my authority !''-and his
eyes glowed and sparkled like serpenps.
The man sunk to the earth forever.
But lannon's mare is written at the top Of
this sheet; and she is the hero OF the present
writing. Achilles had his Xanthus and Balius,
and Podargae Alexander had his Bucepha-
lus Mcdonald had his Selim. Fannon was
pf Eko At L
had his favorite and trusty charger; and Fan
mons mare was worthy of her owner, or
seven better man." He called her the Red
Doe, from her resemblance in color to deer.
She was rare animal-feet, powerful, intel
ligent, docile as lamb-and her owner
valued her, dare say, above king or country,
or the life of his fellow man. She bore him
proudly and fearless in the bloody skrmish or
the quick retreat. When he stood in the noisy
council Of his partizans, or in the silent am
bush, the faithful brute was by his side, ever
ready to bear him whthersoevcr he would.
But Fannon lost his mare.
Down on the east of Little River, the parti-
ian and some four or five of his followers, one
day captured man by the name of Hunter
a wing from the country about Salisbury.
This was sufficient cause of death, and Fam
non told the man he should hang him. Hunter
was evidently man Of the times; but what
could he do, alone and deienceless, with a
dozen bitter enemies 1t was a case of COM
plete desperation. The rope was ready, and
a strong old oak threw out its convenient
branches. Fannon told him he might pray for
his time was come. The poor man kneeled
down, and seemed absorbed in his last petit
ton to throne of mercy. Fannon and his
men stood by, and the trusty mare stood
among them, with the reins on her neck. They
began to be impatient for their victim to close
his devotional exercises. But they soon dis
covered there was more Of earth than heaven
in Hunters thoughts: for he suddenly sprang
on lannon's mare, bowed his head down on
her powerful neck, pressed his heels on her
TANKS, and darted away like the wind
The tory rifles were levelled in moment
-" shoot high shoot high!'' cried Fannon-
"save my ~ The slugs all whistled over
Hunters back, save one that told with uner-
ring aim, which tore and battered his shoulder
dreadfully. He reeled on the saddle, and felt
sick at heart; but hope was before him, death
behind, and he nerved himself for the race
On he sped-through woods and ravines, and
brambles, did that powerful mare carry him,
safely and swiftly His enemies were in hot
pursuit. They followed him by the trail of
blood from his wounded shoulder. He came
to Little River: there was no ford the bank
was high, and a deep place in the stream be-
fore him. But the foe came +: he drew the
rein, and clapped his heels to her sides, and
that gallant mare plunged reckessly into the
stream. She snorted in the spray as she rose,
paved the yielding wave, arched her beautiful
name above the surface, and skinned along
like wild swan. Hunter turned her down
stream, in the hope of evading her pursuers
and she reared and dashed through the fash.
ing waters of the shoal, like lightning in the
storm-cloud.