XLVIII
HOW WE KEPT TRYST AT APPLEBY HUNDRED
'Twas late in the afternoon of the last day of January when we set outtogether, Jennifer and I, from the camp of conference at Sherrard'sFord.
The military situation, lately so critical for us, had reached andpassed one of its many subclimaxes. Morgan's little army, with itsprisoners still safe in hand, was on its way northward toCharlottesville in Virginia, and only the officers remained behind toconfer with General Greene.
For the others, Huger and Williams were hurrying up from Cheraw to meetthe general at Salisbury; and General Davidson, with a regiment of NorthCarolina volunteers, was set to keep the fords of the Catawba.
As for the British commander's intendings, we had conflicting reports.Two days earlier, Lord Cornwallis had burned his heavy baggage atRamsour's Mill, and so we had assurance that the pursuit was onlydelayed. But whether, when he should break his camp at Forney'splantation, he would go northward after Morgan and the prisoners, orcross the river at some nearhand ford to chase our main, none of ourscouts could tell us.
We were guessing at this, Richard and I, as we jogged on together downthe river road, and were agreed that could my Lord cross the floodedriver without loss of time, his better chance would be to fall upon ourmain at Salisbury or thereabouts. But as to the possibility of hiscrossing, we fell apart.
"Lacking another drop of rain, we are safe for forty-eight hours yet,"Dick would say, pointing to the brimming river rolling its brown floodat our right as we fared on. "And with two days' start we shall have himburning more than his camp wagons to overtake us."
"Have it so, if you will," said I, to end the argument. "But this Iknow: were Dan Morgan or General Greene, or you or I, in LordCornwallis's shoes, the two days would not be lost."
Jennifer laughed. "Leave the rest of us out, Sir Hannibal Ireton, andtell what you would do," he said, mocking me.
We were at that bend in the road where Jan Howart and his Tories hadsought to waylay us in the cool gray dawn of a certain June morning whenwe were galloping this same road to keep my appointment with Sir FrancisFalconnet. A huge rock makes a promontory in the stream just here, and Ipointed to a water-worn cavity in it where the flood lapped in and outin gurgling eddies.
"You've been sharp to take me up on my forgetting of the landmarks, butthere is one I've not forgot," said I. "One day, about the time you weregetting yourself born, I was passing this way with my father and acompany of the county gentlemen. 'Twas in the Seven Years' War, and theCherokees were threatening us from the other side. The river was inflood as it is now; and I mind my father saying that when you could seethat hole in the rock, Macgowan's Ford would be no more than armpitdeep."
"So?" said Richard; "then it behooves us to--" He stopped in midsentence, drew rein and shifted his sword hilt to the front.
"What is it?" I asked.
For reply he pointed me to a canoe half hidden in the bushes whereroadside and river-edge came together.
I laughed. "An empty pirogue. Shall we charge and run it through?"
"Hist!" said he; "that canoe was afloat a minute since. Mark thepaddle--'tis dripping yet."
As he spoke an Indian stood up in the bushes beside the pirogue, holdingout his empty hands in token of amity. We rode up and were presentlyshaking hands with our old-time ally, the Catawba.
"How!" said he; "heap how! Chief Harris glad; wah! Make think have to goto Sal'bury to find Captain Long-knife and Captain Jennif'. Heap muchglad!"
"Chief Harris?" I queried. "Who may he be?"
The Catawba drew himself up and drummed upon his breast.
"Chief Harris here," he answered, proudly. "The Great War Chief," bywhich we understood he meant General Greene, "say all Catawba takewar-path 'gainst redcoat; make Uncanoola headman; give um new name.Wah!"
At this we shook hands with him again, well pleased that our stanch allyshould have recognition at the hands of the general. Then I would ask ifhe were on the way to raise his tribesmen to fight with us.
"Bimeby; no have time now; big thing over yonder," pointing across theriver. "Manitou Cornwally fool Great War Chief, mebbe, hey?"
"How is that?" said Dick; and the query elicited a bit of news to makeus prick our ears. The Catawba had been in the British camp at Forney's,posturing again as a Cherokee friendly to the king's side. Some suddenmovement had been determined upon, though what it was to be he could notlearn. At the end of his own resources he had crossed the river in astolen pirogue to find and warn us.
"What say you, Dick?" I asked, when we had heard the Catawba through.
The lad was holding his lip in his hand and scowling as one who pitsduty against inclination.
"'Tis our cursed luck!" he gloomed. Then he swore it out by length andbreadth, and, when the air was cleared, let me have what was in hismind.
"After all, 'tis like enough we should find Appleby house deserted.Gilbert Stair will cling to Lord Cornwallis's coat-skirt as long as hecan for sheer safety's sake. At all events, our business must wait; thecountry's weal comes first." Then to the Indian: "If we can make thebeasts take the water, will you ferry us across, Chief?"
The Catawba nodded, and made the nod good by setting us dry-shod on thefarther bank of the brown flood. By the time we had the horses rubbeddown and resaddled 'twas twilight in the open and night dark in thewood; but we were on our own ground and knew every by-path through theforest.
So, when we had sent the Indian back to carry news of us to GeneralDavidson at the lower ford, and to advertise him of our purpose, wemounted to begin a scouting jaunt, keeping to the wood paths and bearingcautiously northward toward the enemy's camp at Forney's plantation.
At times we were close upon the British sentries, with every nervestrained tense for fight or flight; anon we would be making wide detoursthrough bog and fen, or beneath the black network of wet branches withthe rain-soaked leaf beds under foot to make the horses' treadings asnoiseless as a cat's.
None the less, in the fullness of time--'twas near about midnight as weguessed it--we had our patience well rewarded. Hovering on the confinesof the camp we heard the muffled drum-tap of the reveille, and soonthere was the stir of an army making ready for the march.
"Which way will it be, north or south?" whispered Dick, when we haddismounted to cloak the heads of the horses.
"We shall know shortly," said I; and truly, we did, being well-nighenveloped and ridden down by the fringe of light-horse deploying topioneer the way. When we had sheered off to let this skirmish cloud blowby, Dick struck a spark into his tinder-box to have a sight of hiscompass needle.
"South and by east," he announced; "that will mean Beattie's Ford, Itake it."
"Not unless they swim, horse and foot," I objected. "'Twill beMacgowan's, more likely."
Having this uncertainty to resolve, we must hang upon the skirts of theBritish advance till we could make sure, and this proved to be a mostperilous business. Yet by riding abreast of the moving main we didresolve the uncertainty; heard the orders passed from man to man, andlater saw a small feinting detachment split off to take the road forBeattie's, whilst the main body held on for Macgowan's; all this beforewe were discovered in the gloaming of the dawn by some of Tarleton'smen.
Then, I promise you, my dears, it was neck or nothing, with the devil totake the hindmost. Away we sped toward the near-by river, spurring ourwearied beasts as men who ride for life, with a dozen troopers so closeupon us that when I glanced over my shoulder the foremost of the redcoatriders was having his face well bespattered with the mud from my horse'sheels.
'Twas touch and go, but happily, as I have said, the river was at hand.We came to the high bank some hundred yards above the fording place, andlacking Dick's example to shame me to the braver course, I fear I shouldhave recoiled at the brink. But when the lad sent his horse without themissing of a bound far out over the eddying flood, I shook the reins onthe sorrel's neck, gave him the word and shut my eyes.
After all, it was
nothing worse than a cold plunge, with a few pistolbullets to spatter harmlessly around us when we came up for air.Moreover, there were the camp-fires of Davidson's men on the fartherbank to encourage us; and so swimming and wading by turns we got acrossin time to give the alarum.
As you would guess, there was a mighty stir on our side of the riverwhen we had splashed ashore and got our news well born. As it turnedout, General Davidson's main camp was a good half-mile back from theriver in one of the outfields of Appleby Hundred. So it chanced therewere upon the spot only brave Joe Graham and his fifty riflemen todispute the passage of an army.
What was done at Macgowan's Ford in the gray of the morning of Februaryfirst, 1781, has become a page in our history. But I protest that notany of the chroniclers do even-handed justice to the little band ofpatriot riflemen doing their utmost to hold a hundred-to-oneoutnumbering host in check.
'Twas a fine sight, be the onlooker Whig or Tory. The Guards, led bythe fiery Irishman, O'Hara, took the water first, the men crowdingshoulder to shoulder to brace against the sweep of the current which, onthe western side of the stream, was little less than a mill-tail forswiftness. After them came the foot and horse in solid squares, andalways with more to follow. None the less, our little handful did notblanch; and when the Guards in midstream held straight across instead ofbearing to the right as the ford ran, a shout went up on our side andthe fifty hastened up from the ford-head as one man to face the enemysquarely.
Now it was that the brown-barreled rifles began to crack and spit fire;and I do think if we had had our other two hundred and fifty out of thatback field on the manor lands, we might at least have made the wadingredcoats hurry a little. Indeed, as it was, the van of the Guards brokehere and there, and we could hear O'Hara berating his men as only abattle-mad Irishman can, with blarneyings and curses intermingled.
Having no firearms save our wetted pistols, Jennifer and I crouched incover, waiting to do what two swordsmen might when the blade's lengthshould bridge the fast-narrowing distance between us and the advancinghost.
'Twas in this little interval of forced inaction that we heard a mostfamiliar voice issuing from a clump of holly just below our covert; avoice lifted now in fervent prayer and again in Scriptural anathema onthe foe.
"'Let God arise and let His inimies be scattered.... Let them be as thechaff upon a threshing-floor'--"
The sharp crack of the old borderer's rifle filled the momentary pause,and a British officer in a colonel's uniform swayed drunkenly in hissaddle and plunged headlong in the stream.
"'Let them be as the children of Amalek before the Mighty One of Israel:make them and their princes like Oreb and Zeeb; yea, make all theirprinces like as Zebah and Zalmunna.... O my God, make them like unto awheel, and as the stubble before the wind; like as the fire that burnethup the wood, and as the flame that consumeth the mountains.'"
Crack! went the long-barreled piece again, and again an officerhallooing on his floundering battalion bent to his saddle horn andslipped into the turbid flood.
My gorge rose. This picking off of officers has always seemed to me thesavagest of war's barbarities. How Richard divined my thought andpurpose, I know not; but when I would have slipped down to Yeates'sholly bush he laid a detaining hand on my arm.
"Let be," he said; "'tis murder, if you like, but all war is that. Whenold Eph's turn comes, they will kill him as relentlessly as he iskilling them."
By this time the British vanguard was storming ashore through theshallows below the tree fringe which served as cover for Graham's men,and the king's muskets, silent hitherto, began to roar and belch byplatoon and volley fire. Jennifer craned his neck and took a swift viewof the situation.
"By the Lord Harry!" he cried, "'tis high time Joe Graham was gettinghis lads in order for a foot race. Once those fellows come ashorethey'll play hare and hounds with us to the king's taste. Keep your eyeon the nags, Jack. It may chance us to do what two men can to cover abelated retreat."
We had tethered our horses in a thicket of scrub oak where they would beout of bullet-reach until the enemy gained the bank. As I looked to makesure of them, the sorrel gave a shrill neigh to welcome the pounding ofhoofs on the Appleby road. I made sure this would be General Davidsonbringing in the reserves; and so, indeed, it was; but he came too late.O'Hara's men were already climbing the bank; and Joe Graham was rallyinghis little company for flight in the face of an onset that made the treefringe sing with musket balls.
"'Tis our cue to run away!" Dick shouted, dragging me to my feet. "Tothe horses!"
But now we were too late. Davidson's men were between us and the scruboak thicket, and we must wait till the column swept by.
Dick swore fervently and put his face to the foe and his back to atree. Whereupon I dragged him down as promptly as he had just nowdragged me up, telling him his broadsword would make but a poor shiftparrying musket-balls.
What followed after was over and done with in a dozen flutteringheart-beats. Seeing the case was desperate, General Davidson gatheredGraham's fifty into his flying column, flogged his rear into theretreat, and was pitched out of his saddle by a Tory rifle-bullet whilsthe was doing it. And when the way to our horses was clear of thegalloping Carolinians, and we would have run to mount and ride afterthem, the swarming redcoat van was upon us.
"Up with you and out of this!" cried Jennifer, setting me the example."We must e'en gallop as we can. Quick, man!"
But in the gathering and the retreat our old sharpshooter under hisholly bush had been left behind; and now we heard him again, chantinghis terrible imprecations on the enemy.
Dick saw the meaning in my look, and together we pounced to drag the oldman out of hiding. When we burst down upon him, Yeates had his piece tohis face and was drawing a bead on a stout man in cocked hat and plainregimentals whose horse was curveting and sidling in the nearershallows; no less a figure, in truth, than my Lord Cornwallis himself,cheering his men on to the attack.
We had scarce made out the old hunter's target when the rifle spat fire,the curveting charger reared in its death plunge, and the Britishcommander-in-chief, unhurt, as it seemed, was dragged from theentanglement of his stirrups by his aides.
The old marksman sprang up in a fury of wrath. "Dad blast ye for a pairof aim-sp'ilin'--"
A roar of musketry cut the rebuke in half, and a storm of bullets smotethrough the branches overhead. A falling bough knocked my hat off, and Istooped to recover it. When I rose, Dick was clipping the old mantightly in his arms. Yeates's belt was cut, and a little oozingwell-spring of red was slowly soaking the fringe of his hunting-shirt.
"Ease me down, Cap'n Dick; ease me down. The old man's done for, thistime, ez I allow--spang in the innards. Ease me down and get off foryerselves, if so be ye can, im--me--jit--"
The wagging jaw dropped and the keen old eyes went dim and sightless.Dick's oath was more a sob than an imprecation; and now it was I whosaid: "Come on--the living before the dead!" and so we made thewell-nigh hopeless dash for the horses.
How we rode free out of that hurly-burly at the ford-head you mustfigure for yourselves, if you can. The men of the British vanguard wereall about us when we got to the scrub oak thicket and mounted, but noone of them raised a hand to stay us. I have thought since that mayhapthey took us for a pair of their own Tory allies who were not abovewearing the stolen uniforms of the dead. Be that as it may, we rode awayunhindered, Dick in all the bravery of his captain's slashings, and Iin light-horse buff and blue, taking the road toward the manor housebecause that was the only one open to us, and ambling leisurely till wewere beyond the sight and sound of the victors at the ford.
But once at large, we put spurs to our horses in true _ritter_ fashion;and we had galloped half way to Appleby house before Dick said:
"Now we are well out of that, what next? We can not go to Margery withthe whole British army at our heels."
"Nay, but we shall, if only for a short half-hour," I asserted. Then, asonce before, I gave him my best bow. "For
the last time, it may be, letme play the lord of the manor. You are very welcome to my father'sdemesne, Richard, and to all of its holdings."
"All?" said he, giving me a quick eye-shot as we pressed on side byside.
"Yes, all," said I; and I meant it in good faith. He should have thelady, too; that precious holding of the old manse without whom myfather's acres would be but a bauble to be lost or won indifferently.
"Then you do not love Madge more?" he queried, his eye kindling.
"Nay, I did not say that. But I did say the other; that you should havethe house and all its holdings."
We were cantering up the oak-sentried avenue to that door which GilbertStair had once sought to keep against us with his bell-mouthedblunderbuss. There was no sign of any living thing about the place; andwhen we had no answer to our sword-hilt knockings on the door, the ladturned upon me with a flash of anger in his eyes and his lip a-curl.
"You knew full well what you were promising, John Ireton!" he said. "Sheis not here."
The Master of Appleby Page 50