Formed upon the slope behind us, where, on rawboned country horses,
Sat the sudden-summoned levies brought from Georgia by M’Call.
Soon we heard a distant drumming, nearer coming, slow advancing—
It was then upon the very nick of nine;
Soon upon the road from Spartanburg we saw their bayonets glancing,
And the morning sunlight playing on their swaying scarlet line.
In the distance seen so dimly they looked grimly; coming nearer
There was naught about them fearful, after all,
Until some one near me spoke, in voice than falling water clearer,
“Tarleton’s quarter is the sword-blade, Tarleton’s mercy is the ball.”