In studying the lives of noted individuals, we find the written history of them in many ways so very different.
Some are always before the eyes of the public. They seem to know just how to arrange, that their words and deeds are known and read of all men.
Then there are others, perhaps as worthy or perchance even more so, who are reticent and modest, and the very simplicity of their lives causes them to shrink from the lime-light, the glare of the torch and the noise of the trumpet of victory, preferring rather the inner-consciousness of having done well that which was committed unto them.
Apart from either of these classes, we find a few who are unconstrained, who take destiny into their own hands, rough hewing as they will, and are indifferent alike to either public censure or applause. In this last division, we would have to place our patriot, Robert Sallette.
"Neither history nor tradition gives us the place of his birth or the date of his death, yet it is known that he played a more important part in the struggle in the Colony than any one man who had no troops at his command." Like Melchizedek, he seems to have had no beginning or ending or length of days. It is known that his grave lies in the noted old cemetery at Midway, Georgia along with many famous revolutionary heroes.
Sallette's bravery was beyond dispute, even to recklessness. His hatred of the Tories and all subjects of the King was so bitter, that it caused a price to be set upon his head. Most of us are familiar with the traditions which the historian, Harris, tells of in his "Stories of Georgia," where "A Tory of some means offered a reward of one hundred guineas to any one who would bring him the head of Sallette." The Tory had never seen Sallette, but his alarm was such, that he offered a reward large enough to tempt some one to assassinate the daring partisan. When Sallette heard of the reward, he disguised himself as a farmer, placed a pumpkin in a bag and took it to the home of the Tory. He was invited in and deposited the bag on the floor beside him, the pumpkin striking the boards with a thump. "I have brought you the head of Robert Sallette," he said. "I hear that you have offered a reward of one hundred guineas for it."
"Where is it," asked the Tory.
"I have it with me," replied Sallette, shaking the loose end of the bag. "Count me out the money and take the head."
The Tory neither doubting nor suspecting counted out the money and placed it on the table.
"Now show me the head," said he.