Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1880-04-08

cling columns met. Ihe Engllsh soldier
with his admirable discipline and indomita
Lle courage, here proved his training and
met with the generous forbearance brave
foe always yields to another. The Tory
looked upon the circle of fire encompassing
him, and read the bitter hate and relentless
fury of those who were bearing down upon
him, and charged the closing flame with the
energy of despair. But the circle narrows
and the British cavalry were ordered tc
mount. Ferguson, with gallantry as in
domitable as it was desperate, was seen, in
every part of his ranks, cheering and encour
aging bis men. Determining, in one desper
ate charge, he took his position at the head
of his cavalry, and high above the din Of
battle cried, "crush the id rebels to the
EARTH"
The Americans heard it, and there was q
pause. Then the mountains shook with the
tramp of coming steeds and horse and foot
came laundering down its side The rifles
were silent there was the low click Of the
cock sixty PAGES intervened between them
and the coming foe; then pealing discharge
a recoil, and the patriots rnshed forward
upon the charging enemy. The craven Tory
felt his hour had come, as the hot breath and
fierce glance of his foe met him. For all in
stant he crouched, then spring Of despair,
terror.stricken shrek, a wild yell for mer'
cy, the groan Of the painting spirit, and a
mutilated corpse. With dripping sword
and bloodshot eyes, Bowen had followed
the fortunes of the day. The command to
advance had been followed by reckless
charge that made the succeeding escape mi
raculous. Suddenly retreating before the
advancing foe, he disputed every inch Of the
bloody ground, till again the shout of "for.
ward" sent him spurring into the thickest OF
the ranks. Where the shot fell thickest, there
his black steed, fecked with foam, was seen
plunging through the smoke, his sword sweep
ing in fiery circles about his head, and his
thrilling shout summoning his followers to
the charge Again and again he met the
object of his fury, but only to be drawn from
him in the tide of contending parties. Still with
unfinching purpose he followed him, and if
ever man suffered death in Protean shapes,
that day the traitor Ferris suffered. The
glare of those blood.shot eyes, as they sought
him in the fury Of battle, seemed to scorch his
inmost soul, and with terror his brutal ma
ture had hitherto been stranger to, he
shrank in pallid dread from the encounter.
At each shock that face of vengeance burst
upon him, and left him weak, crouching and
pitiful, in mortal dread. 1t was in the last
encounter they met, and nerving himself to
battle for life, Ferris met his adversary.
Striving to conquer the startled terror which
the memory Of his crimes had ever left him,
in his usual surly doggedness, he awaited
Bowen's approach. There was deadly
struggle-tbe one fighting in the energy of
despair for life that had no preparation for
the future the other in revenge that knew
no satisfaction but life blood and determina-
tion to send the sinner to the doom he so
richly merited. The contest was short as it
was severe. Bowen, graphing with his enc
my, dragged him from his horse, and blow
from his broad sword brought him bleeding
to his knees. There was an agonizing cry
for mercy, as the guilty creature fell, and
and saw, in terror, Bowen refining his horse
to trample him where he lay. The ear that
a short time since would have answered the
call, so in sympathy with the charities of his
own heart, was now deaf to its cry, and tramp
ling the wretch beneath the hoofs Of his horse,
Bowen saw, without remorse, the writhing
agony, heard the vain appeal, and as the
quivering, mutilated corpse lay still in death,
shouted his triumph, and calling to his men
to follow, saw them dash over the bruised
remains Of his mortal foe, and led them to
the last charge. Resistance was in vain, but
the unconquerable spirit of Ferguson refused
to surrender. His men were falling on every
side, and the success of his bayonets gave
him barren ground, which he could but for
a moment retain. Still, to be conquered by
such set of balfnaked savages wet, dirty
and bloody as they were, from scenes of that
hot October day, was too CALLING for his pride,
and he fought with the desperation of dy-
ing ambition, as again and again he drove
the patriots to the foot of the hill. But
Campbell cries, Follow me!' and the wild
men of the mountains spring with madden
ing cry to the charge, as they answer the
fearful daring of their leader; and Sewers
sword is seen glancing, like CLEAN Of
light, as he gallops, with clatter and crash,
at the head of his men, through the devour-
ing FIRE; and Cleveland's excited appeals
infuse new spirit into his troops, as they
charge after him like semi devils, as they are.
And Shelby, the able officer and impetuous
warrior, brought his men up with skill and
courage worthy of him; and the fiery valor
of Williams, as he passed, unheeding through
the iron tempest, and with the chevalier gal
lantry of his nature, tossing his gun from
him as he saw Ferguson armed only with
sword and pistols, and crying, II will have
a single hand tussle with him or die," dashed
on to victory or death! Charging up the
rugged hillside, they drove the flying enemy
before them, with a strength and terror as
prompt and deadly as bolt from heaven.
1t was an awful moment. The destinies of
America were in these patriots hands and
they knew It, and fought like men and like
martyrs. Foemen were mingled hand to
hand. Revenge and patriotism on the one
hand-rage and despair on the other. From
the thick haze of curling smoke, arose now
a loud and fierce huzza now a yell ofterror-
now cry of triumph, mingled with groans
and shrieks of anguish. Occasionally might
be seen speeding horseman, the twinkle Of
polished steel, or the stern face of patriot,
as the flash of his gun for moment ilumin-
ed determined features. In the midst Of the
deadly charge, white horse was seen gsllop-
ing riderless down the hill, the shrill notes of
that silver whistle that had so often cheered
the men through the heat and burden of that
stormy hour, was silent; there was a cry
of despair, a yell for quarter, triumphant
shout of "the flags are struck" and "vic-
tory !" "victory p "victory!" resounded from
the mountain.
CHAPTER XII.
And she was lost and yet breath'd,