VOL. 1.

No. 6.

"BLOODY with spurring, fiery red with speed," see you yon horseman as he glances along like a bird, now | seen, now hidden by the wild and waving foliage; listen to the crackle of the small dry twigs under his courser's feet; above all, notice the quick, yet steady and powerful action of that noble steed, and the erect, easy, and swaying carriage of the rider. You may easily distinguish his countenance, shaded though it be by the deep visor of his horseman's cap; you observe the keen quick glance of his rolling eye, but its expression is redeemed from the charge of mildness by a brow like that of Jove, very wide between the eyes, not high, but broad and ample, with thick and black eyebrows. The nose slightly curved, and remarkably sharp and thin about the nostril, which ever and anon expands, while the short lip curls with some proud thought, and the small sinewy hand contracts upon the sword hilt. His was a face to know again, to rise involuntarily in our memory and fix its lineaments deep in our recollection. One could not help noticing it, and yet it would have been difficult to say what was the predominant expression. When at rest there was a most winning openness and a lurking pleasantry about the mouth, while the eye beamed and melted with the various feelings which ran through the mind. Speeding on, he has passed from our view, and the rolling sound of his horse's hoofs comes fainter and fainter on the ear.

That horseman is William Washington, the Murat of the Revolution, known for many a deed of desperate bravery, and not unworthy of his name and kindred.

He is bearing tidings of import to the retreating army of Morgan, and spares not horse nor man in his eager course.

rans, there was a steadiness and moral as well as physical force about that dark body of men, that bespoke a readiness to act boldly or endure sternly.

They made up the main body of the army, and small divisions acted as scouting parties in the advance and on the flanks. To most of them, or at least to many, the intricacies of their woodland path were familiar; to many the long swells of the hills, crowned with the spreading beech, had been the scene of many a youthful expedition, when they first began to raise the heavy and formidable rifle; with weak and unpractised arm, often had the woods echoed to the jocund shout of the young sportsman, when he at last succeeded in scalping. with steady ball, the active squirrel.

Here, too, with hasty hoof, brushing away the spangled and matin dew, the antlered buck, with ear reverted to catch the hoarse sound of the following chase, had bounded to his death; or, failing at length, had turned to bay in yonder rocky pool, with his spiked horns bent low, and his full, black, moist eye, watching the movements of his noisy and numerous assailants.

But now there were higher game and a nobler chase through that rich and verdant country. Morgan with his riflemen, and the Delaware and Maryland line, was in full retreat from the open country to join the army under Greene, while the fiery, daring, and impetuous Tarleton, with a greater force, and all tried men, was pressing on his traces.

The patriots had that morning crossed the Pacolet and were pursuing their course toward the boundary line of the state. They halted for a while, and when the line of march was again taken up, they advanced at a moderate speed.

At this moment one of the scouts rode in from the rear, and announced to the General that a single man was approaching at high speed. Scarce had the words parted from his lips, ere the horseman passed the rear company, and spurring on his foaming steed, suddenly checked him with a force that threw him on his haunches, and, springing from the saddle, raised his plumed cap and stood before the general.

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This is the first time I ever heard Colonel Washington count the odds, when we had to meet the enemy," said Morgan; “but I did not think he was so near-let us do him justice: he is active enough, and has been so used to success by his preternatural rapidity, that he thinks to ride over us without any more ado. Well, if he be so eager, let him come in God's name; we will meet him, gentlemen. Col. Washington, you, of course, command our handful of cavalry, and had better lead to some place more suitable than this to await our hasty antagonists."

"With your permission, then, General, I will lead to a spot some mile hence, where we shall at least have a fair field." beau tebud

The officers were called together and acquainted with the circumstances, and received the orders for their respective posts.

A few moments placed them on the field of the Cowpens, and a more beautiful spot could scarcely have been selected. Sloping in a long, gentle descent from the woody hill on which the patriots took their stand, to a rich and level plain of no great extent, it was covered in the rear by the forest, thick with underwood, and offered a smooth and verdant turf for the display of the troops. They took a hasty meal, standing, and were drawn up in battle array. The Continentals, in a line four deep, were arranged at some hundred and fifty yards distance from the grove in their rear. The mounted riflemen were placed behind them, to the right and left, so as to cover their flanks, while the mountaineers, on foot, filled the space between the openings of the regulars, and were disposed in front as skirmishers, with directions, upon the advance of the enemy, to fall back in the rear of the troops of the line. The small, but well-appointed band of cavalry, under Washington, their adored leader, hovered about the field, part as outposts, and part drawn up, upon the right of the line.

All was done, and as the files of motionless men, stood on that field, fresh with nature's choicest gems, who can tell the deep current of various feeling that flowed in the hearts of that warlike assemblage. There they stood, the cool and matured bravery of the veteran, side by side with the fair haired boy, on whose cheek the down of incipient manhood had just sprung-in whose young heart throbbed the daring blood; the sunburnt cheek and flashing eye of the South, by the Saxon form and features of the Northern states; all good men and true, and though hundreds of miles were between their native spots of earth, their hearts were brethren in that just and holy cause. There they

stood: I: a low murmur passed along their ranks, like the rustle of the western wind in the dry and golden harvest field; friends were there, speaking what might be their last; the bravest, reflecting, felt their souls stirred with a solemn sadness which bore no kindred

his hand against his fellow, and as the dark spirits are evoked from his heart by the trumpet-call, the strife rouses all the fiercer energies of his nature. The bullet finds a home, and the sword a sheath in God's noblest handiwork; the blood which warms and gives impulse to that frame, the minister of a heavenly soul, wells unregarded out upon the foul and discolored earth; the war-steed's hoof tramples into an undistinguishable mass, the features which some short while since, beamed with the impress of the Creator. But the green earth blooms over them, and hides in beauty the ghastly relics of mortality. Yet fearful as war and death are to the reflecting mind, give man but a noble cause, and the rejoicing spirit thrusts its tenement into danger and ruin, and if need be, gladly pours out the gushing stream of life for the triumph of truth and justice. This it is that ennobles strife, this that makes man finally successful by drawing cut the noblest and purest feelings of the human soul. Death has no hold on them, though dead they live-live in the memory of friends too proud almost to grieve-live in the hearts of the true-live wherever devotion is honored, or principle revered. This is not to die.

The afternoon advanced, when suddenly a dropping fire, irregular and quick, was heard, and the videttes came in with intelligence of the immediate approach of the British. The cavalry was collected around the standard, and in breathless expectation awaited the arrival of the assailants.

Soon the kettle drums and trumpets of the Legion sounded louder and louder, and, at a moderate pace, this hated body of cavalry advanced upon the plain. The bright beams of the sun fell upon their glittering arms, and, as Morgan had arranged his men, fronting the north east, the light was full in the faces of the enemy. In a little while, the long scarlet lines of the English infantry entered the battle-ground.

The music of the royal forces rang loud and clear as they were rapidly formed into columns of attack. The fiery Tarleton, confiding in the desperate rapidity of his charge, scarce waited till they were arranged, and without allowing his men time to rest and recover their breath, ordered the advance.

The cheers of the brave Englishmen pealed aloud as they rushed on in double quick time. The rapidity of their advance saved many a life, for though the scattered riflemen each in succession poured in his fatal fire, yet the speed of the enemy was such as to force them to retire without a second shot. They fell back in the rear of the Continentals, and through the openings of the line kept up a deadly discharge.

I need not, nor can I here, describe the course of the battle; the loud shouts of the combatants, the vivid flashes of musquetry through the dun cloud of smoke, and the masterly movement of Howard, when the advancing British, secure of the victory, were met by their own favorite weapon, and turned and driven back at the point of the bayonet. These are all well known.

At the head of a company of mounted riflemen, to the left of the line, was Charles Edwards, burning with impatience, but restrained by the express order

It is a sad thing at any time to see the cold and crambling form from which the moving spirit has departed; even when death has laid his hand calmly and quietly, it bears an awful impress; but when the

Morgan called aloud to his men to stand firm. "Do not fire till you see their eyes; and hark ye, do not waste a grain of powder-let all tell." On they came, careering on their managed horses, and high above the din of battle rang their shout. The mountaineers sat on their saddles, statue-like and stern; the fatal rifle resting with the breech upon the pommel. "Now!" shouted the clarion voice of Morgan-the whole line of deadly tubes fell in an instant, rested one moment level, then blazed the stream of living fire; and when the smoke cleared away, not a man of the front line of the troopers was in his saddle, while in the second and third many reeled upon their seats, and all instinctively drew up.

With a bullet fixed in his broad breast, and his left arm hanging useless by his side, yet waving aloft his glittering brand, Capt. G- —was borne by his excited steed, full into the ranks of the riflemen. Death was busy with him, yet still in his glazing eye and stiffening features, glared the unquenchable fire of his malignant spirit. Charles Edwards saw and shouted to save him. Cruel and licentious though he had been, the determination which he evinced deserved and won respect. But he was in the hands of an unsparing antagonist, and mustering his strength for one last blow, the film of death passed over his eyes, and the motionless corpse fell heavily from the saddle.

This passed with the quickness of lightning, and before the British could recover, Washington and his brave band were upon them. Man to man, blade to blade, a dreadful conflict ensued, but the British were disheartened by their desperate loss, and a general rout ensued. The Legion troopers asked no quarter and received none—a long account of crime and injury was that day settled in blood.

Tarleton himself, and several of his officers who were well mounted, fled for their lives. The fiery Washington and Charles Edwards led the pursuit. The marks are still shown of the prodigious leap that Washington forced his horse to take, in order to cut Tarleton off. Almost alone, he dashed into the flying British, and as he struck at Tarleton, a blow of which he bore away the mark, the blade of a trooper would have passed through his body, but for the interference of Charles Edwards. Washington, finding that they were almost alone among the British, who were rallying upon them, turned bridle, and said to Edwards, Come, my good friend, it is our turn to run," put his horse to speed, and sent his compliments to Colonel

in action, lies lopped, disfigured, convulsed; stained with the life blood clotted upon the writhed features, yet wearing the grim and fierce look which death has fixed there, or livid with incipient decay, gashed, pierced-Oh! all the comeliness, the sad beauty of death, is gone. It is a sight to rise up in one's dreams.

The battle of the Cowpens was the effectual ruin of the English domination at the South; after that the fabric of their power melted away in a series of partizan actions, till at last the Southern states were free.

The fair, round moon shone bright and pure on that scene of violence and death, and her beams danced gaily on the ripples of Tyger river. The rapid rush of the stream over its rocky bed broke the deep silence of the midnight with its sweet music, and the shrill song of the katydid thrilled from the branches of the birch trees, that laved their pendent tassels in the limpid current. A horseman came at the full speed of his charger to the brink of the stream, and throwing himself from the saddle, raised the cap from his hot, red brow, and bathed his forehead in the water; a Jong, long draught he drew from the living stream, and raising his eyes to the calm heaven, spoke as it were musingly. Thou art still the same fair stream as when I saw thee last, some twelvemonth since; thy unconquered current still flows from the free hills to the plain, and thy waves have washed away the pollution of foreign and conquering footsteps. Thou art an omen of my country: long, long has the invader dammed and paralyzed the current of her life into a stagnant pool, but now her new-born energy has burst the barrier, and she has rejoicingly commenced her course of freedom. But I must not delay." He rubbed with skilful hand the close joints of his steed, and leading him to the water's edge, permitted him to drink; then vaulting on his back, touched him with the spur. The noble animal reared, and springing forward, clave, with his broad breast, the mountain current; a few minutes of exertion placed them on the opposite bank, and again they sped upon their wild career. In the few villages through which they passed, the horseman drew bridle at some well-known house, and at the clatter of his horse's hoofs and the clear sound of his voice, the sleepers roused themselves and heard him proclaim, "Tarleton is defeated at the Cowpens by Morgan; spread the news, arm and join him." The cheers that burst from the hearts and lips of his auditors startled the echoes of the night, and again the fiery horseman spurred on his way. With the first dawn of day he dismounted from his foaming and weary horse, at the house of Mr. Edwards, and his loud call was answered by the appearance of several woolly heads from the offices, and their uncouth cries

of gratulation were perfectly astounding as they crowded around the steed and his rider.

"Charles! Charles! my own dear brother! thank God you are safe," and the young man was wreathed

Charles extricated himself with some difficulty from the kind hearted creatures, and delivering his horse to one old gray headed fellow who delighted in the appellation of Uncle July, requested him to be well laken care of.

"To be sure, massa-ki! but he is a beauty, maybe he a'n't, look mose like de ole Tearcoat hoss-come along, sir, hab little corn, eh? aha! ole nigger gib you 'nuff."

Charles ran into the house, where the stir of his arrival had awakened the inmates, and bending low before the venerable and time-stricken form of his father, begged his blessing.

"Thou hast it, my brave and glorious boy, and may it ever rest upon thee. But tell me, my son, why do we see you here? have you failed?"

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No, no, my dear father, we are triumphantly successful; yesterday evening the vaunted Legion fled from the field of the Cowpens before our half armed riflemen. I saw Tarleton himself flying as fast as his noble black could carry him, and Washington in full pursuit."

The gray head of the patriot was raised in solemn thankfulness to heaven, and his thin lips murmured in joy.

pure lips breathed the unutterable force of a sister's love.

Aye, my sweet sister, he died soldier-like and manfully, fighting to the last. But let us talk of more pleasant things; and, by the way, I must see to my poor horse; he bore me gallantly home, and I would not lose him, for he is a gift from Washington."

On his return, the happy family gathered around, and the tale of the battle, with all its circumstances, was repeated to the unwearied audience. After a day or two of relaxation, Charles returned to camp with his new levies, and followed the standard of Washing ton in many an exploit and ruse de guerre of that brave and skilful leader. Philadelphia,

A. H.

I WOULD I were a peasant boy-
That merry son of careless joy;
Without a thought that smacks of care,
He whistles sorrow to the air,
Whilst jovially the wild wood rings
With tunes this merry peasant sings.
He wears a free, unclouded brow,
For youth's sunshine is with him now,
Gilding his thoughts with lines of light,
Making his life serene and bright.
Alas! he little recks that soon
After morn comes troubled noon.

Pass on, dear boy-in after life,

When mingling in the cares and strife

Of this most sordid, hated world,

When down by fate's rough hand thou'rt hurl'd,

When sorrow shall thy bosom seize,

When yields thy form to fell disease,

When Mammon all his hoards employs To sting thy heart, and steal thy joys— Then wilt thou think of former years,

Of former mirth, and former joy, Ere that thine eyes were red with tears, Ere that thy breast knew cares or fears, When thou wert but a peasant boy.

I envy thee thy happy lot,

Ay! though thy fate be cast thus low-
No sorrow does thy bosom know,

No envy enters in thy cot.

Thou canst not see, thou canst not taste,
The bitter waters of life's waste;
Ambition is not yet thy care,

Its very name to thee is air.
Without a thought to dim thine eye,
Without a shade to cloud thy sky,

And none of gloom to damp thy joy,
Thou happy, happy PEASANT Boy.
Blockley, November, 1837.