The Road to Guilford Courthouse: The American Revolution in the Carolinas by Buchanan John

Author:Buchanan, John [Buchanan, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620459218
Publisher: Turner Publishing Co.
Published: 1999-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

16

King’s Mountain

“I will . . . follow Ferguson into Cornwallis’ Lines”

The “flying column” did not get off to an auspicious start that very dark and rainy night. The men guiding Campbell’s Virginians got confused, then lost. Silas McBee told Draper the road was “pretty good,” but Colonel William Hill in his Memoirs claimed the “path being small & the woods very thick the troop got scattered and dispersed through the woods, thus wandering the whole night.” By morning the tail of Campbell’s column was only five miles from Cowpens. At dawn those who had kept to the path missed the Virginians and sent scouts in all directions. They found Campbell and his men and put them right, but their false start, according to William Hill, “caused them to march uncommonly hard which caused many horses to give out as but few of them were shod.” But the long column pushed on, too close to the goal to be denied.1

The colonels had intended to ford the Broad River at Tate’s Crossing, the most direct route, but on reflection decided that was unwise and angled a bit to the south, downriver about two and one-half miles toward Cherokee Ford. They remained cautious. The column stopped in the hills near the river. In the ranks of Major William Chronicle’s South Fork Boys was an intrepid and talented scout by the name of Enoch Gilmer. Chronicle described him as a “stranger to fear.” What made him even more valuable was his ability to act any part, “cry and laugh in the same breath,” or convince those who knew him best that he had gone stark raving mad. Shrewd, cunning, talented, and brave, Enoch Gilmer was sent out alone while the others waited and gave their horses a much-needed rest. It was still raining and the officers reminded the men to keep their rifles dry, which was undoubtedly obvious to the riflemen, but officers will be officers. Gilmer was gone a long time, according to David Vance, “when his voice was heard in the hollow singing Barney-Linn, a favorite blackguard song. This was notice that all was right.” The sun was just rising over the hills as the column reached the ford and began crossing. It was deep at that point but there were no mishaps. The riders had come eighteen miles from Cowpens. They were about fifteen miles from King’s Mountain.2

Enoch Gilmer was sent out again and went off at a gallop. The column rode slowly. The men grew restless. Curses ripped the air. They had come to fight Ferguson. Where was he? Let’s have the battle and be done with it. Three miles from Cherokee Ford they made a brief stop for a meager snack, then pushed on, harvesting a cornfield on the way to sustain themselves and their horses on the raw kernels. The rain was now coming down heavily, and Campbell, Sevier, and Cleveland decided a halt was needed. They told Shelby and the real commander of the expedition gave them the rough side of his tongue.

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