ROBERT HENRY’S ACCOUNT.
I will now relate a few facts relative to the battle at King’s Mountain that came within my own view, and not related by Col. Vance. In Vance’s narrative, he refers to Col. W. Graham’s and David Dickey’s leaving the army to visit his wife, and Major Billy Chronicle taking his place, and calling on his South Fork boys to follow him. At that time Enoch Gilmer called on Hugh Ewin, Adam Barry and myself to follow him close to the foot of the hill. We marched with a quick step, letting Major Chronicle advance about ten steps before us, but further from the hill than we were, until we met the wing from the other side of the hill, then Chronicle having a military hat, but had let it down to shelter the rain from him, and had it not set up, clapped his hand to it in front, and raised it up, and cried “Face to the hill.” The words were scarcely uttered, when a ball struck him and he dropped; and in a second after a ball struck Wm. Rabb, about six feet from Chronicle,[[8]] and he dropped. We then advanced up the hill close to the Tory lines: There was a log across a hollow that I took my stand by; and stepping one step back, I was safe from the British fire. I there remained firing until the British charged bayonets. When they made the charge, they first fired their guns, at which fire it is supposed they killed Capt. Mattocks, and J. Boyd, wounded Wm. Gilmer and John Chittim. The Fork boys fired and did considerable execution. I was preparing to fire when one of the British advancing, I stepped [back] and was in the act of cocking my gun when his bayonet was running along the barrel of my gun, and gave me a thrust through my hand and into my thigh; my antagonist and myself both fell. The Fork boys retreated and loaded their guns. I was then lying under the smoke, and it appeared that some of them were not more than a gun’s length in front of the bayonets, and the farthest could not have been more than twenty feet in front when they discharged their rifles. It was said that every one dropped his man. The British then retreated in great haste, and were pursued by the Fork boys.
Wm. Caldwell saw my condition, and pulled the bayonet out of my thigh, but it hung to my hand; he gave my hand a kick, and went on. The thrust gave me much pain, but the pulling of it [out] was much more severe. With my well hand I picked up my gun, and found her discharged. I suppose that when the soldier made the thrust, I gripped the trigger and discharged her—the load must have passed through his bladder and cut a main artery of his back, as he bled profusely.
Immediately after Wm. Caldwell drew the bayonet from me, then the word was that the flag was up—the whigs then shouted “Hurra for Liberty,” three times at the top of their voices. It was immediately announced that Ferguson was killed. I had a desire to see him, and went and found him dead; he was shot in the face, and in the breast. It was said he had received other wounds. Samuel Talbot turned him over, and got his pocket pistol.
Being in much pain and drouthy, went down, left my gun, being unable to carry her, and when I got near to the branch met David Dickey and Col. Wm. Graham riding his large black horse, wielding his sword round his head, crying at the top of his voice, “Dam the Tories,” and ascended the hill. Having seen him get leave of absence at the commencement of the battle to see his wife, I was filled with excitement and a conflict of passion and extreme pain; but this brought on another set of feelings, that may be understood, but I am not possessed of language to describe.
I then went into the branch, drank, bathed my thigh and hand—then went to see whether Major Chronicle and Wm. Rabb were dead or wounded—found them dead. I saw some of the boys hauling Capt. Mattocks and John Boyd down the hill; and Samuel Martin carrying Wm. Gilmer, who was wounded in the thigh.
Several of the South Fork boys were desirous to start for home that night, and were desirous to know how many were killed on each side. Joseph Beatty and Enoch Gilmer were appointed for that purpose of counting: They reported that 248 British and Tories were killed, and that 143 whigs were killed; they gave no account of the wounded.
In the mean time Hugh Ewin, Andrew Barry and Nathaniel Cook brought their horses and mine; put me on my horse, but could not take my gun. We rode over the battle-ground; saw in some places the dead lay thick, and other places thin. We went about five miles from the battle-ground, and staid for the night. My wounds pained me extremely. Sunday morning we started for home. When we came to the South Fork, the waters were high, and my company would not suffer me to ride the river, but took me across in a canoe, and hauled me home in a slide.
I continued in extreme pain when my mother made a poultice of wet ashes, and applied it to my wounds. This gave me the first ease. On Monday morning by sun-rise Hugh Ewin and Andrew Barry came to see me, and immediately after came several Neutralists, as they called themselves, but were really Tories, to hear the news about the battle, when the following dialogue took place between Ewin and Barry on one part, and the Tories on the other: Is it certain that Col. Ferguson is killed, and his army defeated and taken prisoners?
E. and B. It is certain, for we saw Ferguson after he was dead, and his army prisoners.
Tory. How many men had Col. Ferguson?
E. and B. Nearly 1200, but not quite 1200.
Tory. Where did they get men enough to defeat him?
E. and B. They had the South Carolina and Georgia Refugees, Col. Graham’s men, some from Virginia, some from the head of the Yadkin, some from the head of the Catawba, some from over the mountains, and some from every where else.
Tory. Tell us how it happened, and all about it.
E. and B. We met at Gilbert Town, and found that the foot troops could not overtake Ferguson, and we took between six and seven hundred horsemen, having as many or more footmen to follow; and we overtook Ferguson at King’s Mountain, where we surrounded and defeated him.
Tory. Ah! That won’t do. Between Six and seven hundred to surround nearly 1200. It would take more than 2000 to surround and take Col. Ferguson.
E. and B. But we were all of us blue hen’s chickens.
Tory. There must have been of your foot and horse in all over 4000. We see what you are about—that is, to catch Lord Cornwallis napping.
Thus ended the dialogue, not more than two hours after sun-rise on Monday; and the Neutralists or Tories immediately departed. It was reported that they immediately swam a horse across the Catawba river by the side of a canoe (the Catawba was much higher than the South Fork,) and gave Lord Cornwallis the news of Ferguson’s defeat.
Before my wounds were well, I went to Charlotte, and after Cornwallis had left it, where I met a David Knox, a brother or near relation of James Knox, the grandfather of President Polk, who gave me the following information, to wit: That on Monday next after Ferguson’s defeat, he, Knox, being a prisoner in the street in Charlotte, that an officer came to the officer of the guard, and the following dialogue took place.
The first officer said to the officer of the guard, Did you hear the news?
Officer of Guard. No, what news?
First Officer. Col. Ferguson is killed, and his whole army defeated and taken prisoners.
Officer of Guard. How can that be—where did the men come from to do that?
First Officer. Some of them were from South Carolina and Georgia Refugees, some from Virginia, some from the head of the Yadkin, some from the head of Catawba, some from over the Mountains, and some from every where else: They met at Gilbert Town, about 2000 desperadoes on horseback, calling themselves blue hen’s chickens—started in pursuit of Ferguson, leaving as many footmen to follow. They overtook Col. Ferguson at a place called King’s Mountain; there they killed Col. Ferguson after surrounding his army, defeated them and took them prisoners.
Officer of Guard. Can this be true?
First Officer. As true as the gospel, and we may look out for breakers.
Officer of Guard. God bless us!
Whereupon David Knox jumped on a pile of fire-wood in the street, slapped his hands and thighs, and crowed like a cock, exclaiming “Day is at hand!” Hence he was called Peter’s Cock, having some analogy to the crowing of the cock when Peter denied his Lord the third time.
It was generally considered about Charlotte and elsewhere, that this exaggerated account, given by the Neutralists, of Col. Campbell’s army, foot and horse, at 4000, which carried a strong air of plausibility with it, was the reason why Lord Cornwallis immediately left Charlotte in the night, after the waters were passable, and did not stop day nor night until he met Gen. Leslie at or near Winnsborough.
Mem.—Carefully transcribed from the original Manuscript in Robert Henry’s hand-writing, sent me by mail for the purpose, by Dr. J. F. E. Hardy, of Asheville, N. C., Jan. 26th, 27th, 28th and early the 29th, 1874.
L. C. DRAPER.
[8]. There is an interesting sketch of Major William Chronicle in “Hunter’s Sketches of North Carolina.” He lived in the S. E. part of Lincoln, now Gaston county, was born in 1755; his mother first married a McKee, and lived near Armstrong’s ford: When McKee died she married a Chronicle, by whom she had Major William Chronicle. Perhaps Col. Graham would have shared Chronicle’s fate, at the hand of the sharpshooters if he had remained.