As soon as the first report of the battle reached me, I telephoned to Bill Jackson, asking him to come at once to Four Oaks and to bring a man with him. When he arrived, attended by his big Irishman, my men had already put one of the farm teams to a great farm wagon, and had filled the box nearly full of hay. We gave Jackson a hurried account of the fight and asked him to go at once and offer relief to the wounded,—if such relief were needed. Jackson was willing enough to go, but he was greatly disappointed that he had missed the fight; it seemed unnatural that there should be a big fight in his neighborhood and he not in it.
"I'd give a ten-acre lot to have been with you, lads," said the big farmer as he started off.
Word had been sent to Dr. High to be ready to care for some broken heads. Two hours later I drove to the Inn at Exeter and found the doctor just commencing the work of repair. Thirteen men had been brought in by the wagon, twelve of them more or less cut and bruised about the head, and all needing some surgical attention. The thirteenth man was stone dead. A terrific blow on the back of the head had crushed his skull as if it had been an egg-shell, and he must have died instantly. After looking this poor fellow over to make sure that there was no hope for him, we turned our attention to the wounded. The barn had been turned into a hospital, and in two hours we had a dozen sore heads well cared for, and their owners comfortably placed for the night on soft hay covered by blankets from the Inn. Mrs. French brought tea and gruels for the thirsty, feverish fellows, and we placed Otto and the big Irishman on duty as nurses for the night. The coroner had been summoned, and arrived as we finished our work. He was an energetic official, and lost no time in getting a jury of six to listen to the statements which the wounded men would give. To their credit be it said that every one who gave testimony at all, gave it to the effect that the miners were crazy-drunk, that they stopped the carriage, provoked the fight, and did their utmost to disable or destroy the enemy. The coroner would listen to no further testimony, but gave the case to the jury. In five minutes their verdict was returned, "justifiable and commendable homicide by person unknown to the jury."
The news of a fight and the death of a miner had reached Gordonville, where it created intense excitement. By the time the inquest was over a crowd of at least fifty miners had collected near the barn. Much grumbling and some loud threats were heard. Jackson took it upon himself to meet these angry men, and no one could have done better. Stepping upon a box which raised him a foot or two above the crowd, he said:—
"See here, fellows, I want to say a word to you. My name's Jackson—Bill Jackson; perhaps some of you know me. If you don't, I'll introduce myself. I wasn't in this fight,—worse luck for me! but I am wide open for engagements in that line. Some one inside said that this gang must be conciliated, and I thought I would come out and do it. I understand that you feel sore over this affair,—it's natural that you should,—but you must remember that those boys out at Four Oaks couldn't accommodate all of you. If you wouldn't mind taking me for a substitute, I'll do my level best to make it lively for you. You don't need cards of introduction to me; you needn't be American citizens; you needn't speak English; all you have to do is to put up your hands or cock your hats, and I'll know what you mean. If any of you thinks he hasn't had his share of what's been going on this afternoon, he may just call on Bill Jackson for the balance. I want to conciliate you if I can! I'm a good-tempered man, and not the kind to pick a quarrel; but if any of you low-lived dogs are looking for a fight, I'm not the man to disappoint you! I came out here to satisfy you in this matter and to send you home contented, and, by the jumping Jews! I'll do it if I have to break the head of every dog's son among you! They told me to speak gently to you, and by thunder, I've done it; but now I'm going to say a word for myself!
"A lot of your dirty crowd attacked two of the decentest men in the county when they were riding with ladies; one of the gang got killed and the rest got their skulls cracked. Would these boys fight for the girls they had with them? Hell's blazes! I'll fight for just thinking of it! Just one of you duffers say 'boo' to me! I'm going right through you!"
Jackson sprang into the crowd, which parted like water before a strong swimmer. He cocked his hat, smacked his fists, and invited any or all to stand up to him. He was crazy for a fight, to get even with Jack and Jarvis; but no one was willing to favor him. He marched through the gang lengthways, crossways, and diagonally, but to no purpose. In great disgust he returned to the barn and reported that the crowd would not be "conciliated." When we left, however, there were no miners to be seen.
It was after one o'clock in the morning when I reached home. Going directly to the room occupied by the boys, I met Polly on the stairs.
"I'm glad you've come," said she, "for I can't do a thing with those boys; they are too wild for any use."
Entering the room, I found the lads in bed, but hilarious. They had sent for Lars and had filled him full of hot stuff and commendation. He was sitting on the edge of a chair between the two beds, his honest eyes bulging and his head rolling from the effects of unusual potations. The lads had tasted the cup, too, but lightly; their high spirits came from other sources. Victories in war and in love deserve celebration; and when the two are united, a bit of freedom must be permitted. They sat bolt upright against the heads of their beds with flushed faces and shining eyes. They shouted Greek and Latin verse at the bewildered Swede; they gave him the story of Lars Porsena in the original, and then in bad Swedish. They called him Lars Porsena,—for had he not fought gallantly? Then he was Gustavus Adolphus,—for had he not come to the aid of the Protestants when they were in sore need? And then things got mixed and the "Royal Swede" was Lars Adolphus or Gustavus Porsena Viking all in one. The honest fellow was more than half crazed by strong waters, incomprehensible words, and "jollying up" which the young chaps had given him.