With the utmost satisfaction I can acquaint you with the sudden and favorable turn of our public affairs. A few days ago destruction hung over our heads. Cornwallis with at least 1500 British and Tories waited at Charlotte for the reinforcement of 1000 from Broad River, which reinforcement has been entirely cut off, 130 killed and the remainder captured. Cornwallis immediately retreated, and is now on his way toward Charleston, with part of our army in his rear.... Elizabeth Maxwell Steel: Salisbury, October 25, 1780.

So thoroughly had the Cherokees been subdued by the devastations of the campaign of 1776 that for several years thereafter they were unable to organize for a new campaign against the backwoodsmen along the frontiers of North Carolina and Tennessee. During these years the Holston settlers principally busied themselves in making their position secure, as well as in setting their house in order by severely punishing the lawless Tory element among them. In 1779 the Chickamaugas, with whom The Dragging Canoe and his irreconcilable followers among the Cherokees had joined hands after the campaign of 1776, grew so bold in their bloody forays upon small exposed settlements that North Carolina and Virginia in conjunction despatched a strong expedition against them. Embarking on April 10th at the mouth of Big Creek near the present Rogersville, Tennessee, three hundred and fifty men led by Colonel Evan Shelby descended the Tennessee to the fastnesses of the Chickamaugas. Meeting with no resistance from the astonished Indians, who fled to the shelter of the densely wooded hills, they laid waste the Indian towns and destroyed the immense stores of goods collected by the British agents for distribution among the red men. The Chickamaugas were completely quelled; and during the period of great stress through which the Tennessee frontiersmen were soon to pass, the Cherokees were restrained through the wise diplomacy of Joseph Martin, Superintendent of Indian affairs for Virginia.

The great British offensive against the Southern colonies, which were regarded as the vulnerable point in the American Confederacy, was fully launched upon the fall of Charleston in May, 1780. Cornwallis established his headquarters at Camden; and one of his lieutenants, the persuasive and brilliant Ferguson, soon rallied thousands of Loyalists in South Carolina to the British standard. When Cornwallis inaugurated his campaign for cutting Washington wholly off from the Southern colonies by invading North Carolina, the men upon the western waters realized that the time had come to rise, in defense of their state and in protection of their homes. Two hundred Tennessee riflemen from Sullivan County, under Colonel Isaac Shelby, were engaged in minor operations in South Carolina conducted by Colonel Charles McDowell; and conspicuous among these engagements was the affair at Musgrove’s Mill on August 18th when three hundred horsemen led by Colonel James Williams, a native of Granville County, North Carolina, Colonel Isaac Shelby, and Lieutenant-Colonel Clark of Georgia repulsed with heavy loss a British force of between four and five hundred.

These minor successes availed nothing in face of the disastrous defeat of Gates by Cornwallis at Camden on August 16th and the humiliating blow to Sumter at Rocky Mount on the following day. Ferguson hotly pursued the frontiersmen, who then retreated over the mountains; and from his camp at Gilbert Town he despatched a threatening message to the Western leaders, declaring that if they did not desist from their opposition to the British arms and take protection under his standard, he would march his army over the mountains and lay their country waste with fire and sword. Stung to action, Shelby hastily rode off to consult with Sevier at his log castle near Jonesboro; and together they matured a plan to arouse the mountain men and attack Ferguson by surprise. In the event of failure, these wilderness free-lances planned to leave the country and find a home with the Spaniards in Louisiana.

At the original place of rendezvous, the Sycamore Shoals of the Watauga, the overmountain men gathered on September 25th. There an eloquent sermon was preached to them by that fiery man of God, the Reverend Samuel Doak, who concluded his discourse with a stirring invocation to the sword of the Lord and of Gideon a sentiment greeted with the loud applause of the militant frontiersmen. Here and at various places along the march they were joined by detachments of border fighters summoned to join the expedition Colonel William Campbell, who with some reluctance had abandoned his own plans in response to Shelby’s urgent and repeated message, in command of four hundred hardy frontiersmen from Washington County, Virginia; Colonel Benjamin Cleveland, with the wild fighters of Wilkes known as “Cleveland’s Bulldogs”; Colonel Andrew Hampton, with the stalwart riflemen of Rutherford; Major Joseph Winston, the cousin of Patrick Henry, with the flower of the citizenry of Surry; the McDowells, Charles and Joseph, with the bold borderers of Burke; Colonels Lacy and Hill, with well-trained soldiers of South Carolina; and Brigadier-General James Williams, leading the intrepid Rowan volunteers.

Before breaking camp at Quaker Meadows, the leading officers in conference chose Colonel William Campbell as temporary officer of the day, until they could secure a general officer from headquarters as commander-in-chief. The object of the mountaineers and big-game hunters was, in their own terms, to pursue Ferguson, to run him down, and to capture him. In pursuance of this plan, the leaders on arriving at the ford of Green River chose out a force of six hundred men, with the best mounts and equipment; and at daybreak on October 6th this force of picked mounted riflemen, followed by some fifty “foot-cavalry” eager to join in the pursuit, pushed rapidly on to the Cowpens. Here a second selection took place; and Colonel Campbell, was again elected commander of the detachment, now numbering some nine hundred and ten horsemen and eighty odd footmen, which dashed rapidly on in pursuit of Ferguson.

The British commander had been apprised of the coming of the over-mountain men. Scorning to make a forced march and attempt to effect a junction with Cornwallis at Charlotte, Ferguson chose to make a stand and dispose once for all of the barbarian horde whom he denounced as mongrels and the dregs of mankind. After despatching to Cornwallis a message asking for aid, Ferguson took up his camp on King’s Mountain, just south of the North Carolina border line, in the present York County, South Carolina. Here, after his pickets had been captured in silence, he was surprised by his opponents. At three o’clock in the afternoon of October 7th the mountain hunters treed their game upon the heights.

The battle which ensued presents an extraordinary contrast in the character of the combatants and the nature of the strategy and tactics. Each party ran true to form Ferguson repeating Braddock’s suicidal policy of opposing bayonet charges to the deadly fusillade of riflemen, who in Indian fashion were carefully posted behind trees and every shelter afforded by the natural inequalities of the ground. In the army of the Carolina and Virginia frontiersmen, composed of independent detachments recruited from many sources and solicitous for their own individual credit, each command was directed in the battle by its own leader. Campbell like Cleveland, Winston, Williams, Lacey, Shelby, McDowell, Sevier, and Hambright personally led his own division; but the nature of the fighting and the peculiarity of the terrain made it impossible for him, though the chosen commander of the expedition, actually to play that rôle in the battle. The plan agreed upon in advance by the frontier leaders was simple enough to surround and capture Ferguson’s camp on the high plateau. The more experienced Indian fighters, Sevier and Shelby, unquestionably suggested the general scheme which in any case would doubtless have been employed by the frontiersmen; it was to give the British “Indian play” namely to take cover everywhere and to fire from natural shelter. Cleveland, a Hercules in strength and courage who had fought the Indians and recognized the wisdom of Indian tactics, ordered his men, as did some of the other leaders, to give way before a bayonet charge, but to return to the attack after the charge had spent its force.

“My brave fellows,” said Cleveland, “every man must consider himself an officer, and act from his own judgment. Fire as quick as you can, and stand your ground as long as you can. When you can do no better, get behind trees, or retreat; but I beg you not to run quite off. If we are repulsed, let us make a point of returning and renewing the fight; perhaps we may have better luck in the second attempt than in the first.”

The plateau upon which Ferguson was encamped was the top of an eminence some six hundred yards long and about two hundred and fifty yards from one base across to the other; and its shape was that of an Indian paddle, varying from one hundred and twenty yards at the blade to sixty yards at the handle in width. Outcropping boulders upon the outer edge of the plateau afforded some slight shelter for Ferguson’s force; but, unsuspicious of attack, Ferguson had made no abatis to protect his camp from the assault to which it was so vulnerable because of the protection of the timber surrounding it on all sides. As to the disposition of the attacking force, the center to the northeast was occupied by Cleveland with his “Bulldogs,” Hambright with his South Fork Boys from the Catawba (now Lincoln County, North Carolina), and Winston with his Surry riflemen; to the south were the divisions of Joseph McDowell, Sevier, and Campbell; while Lacey’s South Carolinians, the Rowan levies under Williams, and the Watauga borderers under Shelby were stationed upon the north side. Ferguson’s forces consisted of Provincial Rangers, one hundred and fifty strong, and other well-drilled Loyalists, between eight and nine hundred in number; but his strength was seriously weakened by the absence of a foraging party of between one and two hundred who had gone off on the morning the battle occurred. Shelby’s men, before getting into position, received a hot fire, the opening shots of the engagement. This inspired Campbell, who now threw off his coat, to shout encouraging orders to his men posted on the side of the mountain opposite to Shelby’s force. When Campbell’s Virginians uttered a series of piercing shouts, the British officer, De Peyster, second in command, remarked to his chief: “These things are ominous these are the damned yelling boys.”

The battle, which lasted some minutes short of an hour, was waged with terrific ferocity. The Loyalist militia, whenever possible, fired from the shelter of the rocks; while the Provincial Corps, with fixed bayonets, steadily charged the frontiersmen, who fired at close range and then rapidly withdrew to the very base of the mountain. After each bayonet charge the Provincials coolly withdrew to the summit, under the accumulating fire of the returning mountaineers, who quickly gathered in their rear. Owing to their elevated location, the British, although using the rapid-fire breech-loading rifle invented by Ferguson himself, found their vision deflected, and continually fired high, thus suffering from nature’s handicap, refraction. The militia, using sharpened butcher-knives which Ferguson had taught them to utilize as bayonets, charged against the mountaineers; but their fire, in answer to the deadly fusillade of the expert squirrel-shooters, was belated, owing to the fact that they could not fire while the crudely improvised bayonets remained inserted in their pieces. The Americans, continually firing upward, found ready marks for their aim in the clearly delineated outlines of their adversaries, and felt the fierce exultation which animates the hunter who has tracked to its lair and surrounded wild game at bay.

The leaders of the various divisions of the mountaineers bore themselves with impetuous bravery, recklessly rushing between the lines of fire and with native eloquence, interspersed with profanity, rallying their individual commands again and again to the attack. The valiant Campbell scaled the rugged heights, loudly encouraging his men to the ascent. Cleveland, resolutely facing the foe, urged on is Bulldogs with the inspiriting words: “Come, boys; let’s try ’em again. We’ll have better luck next time.” No sooner did Shelby’s men reach the bottom of the hill, in retreating before a charge, than their commander, fiery and strenuous, ardently shouted: “Now boys, quickly reload your rifles, and let’s advance upon them, and give them another hell of a fire.” The most deadly charge, led by De Peyster himself, fell upon Hambright’s South Fork boys; and one of their gallant officers, Major Chronicle, waving his military hat, was mortally wounded, the command, “Face to the hill!”, dying on his lips. These veteran soldiers, unlike the mountaineers, firmly met the shock of the charge, and a number of their men were shot down or transfixed; but the remainder, reserving their fire until the charging column was only a few feet away, poured in a deadly volley before retiring. The gallant William Lenoir, whose reckless bravery made him a conspicuous target for the enemy, received several wounds and emerged from the battle with his hair and clothes torn by balls. The ranking American officer, Brigadier General James Williams, was mortally wounded while “on the very top of the mountain, in the thickest of the fight”; and as he momentarily revived, his first words were: “For God’s sake, boys, don’t give up the hill.” Hambright, sorely wounded, his boot overflowing with blood and his hat riddled with three bullet holes, declined to dismount, but pressed gallantly forward, exclaiming in his “Pennsylvania Dutch”: “Huzza, my prave poys, fight on a few minutes more, and the pattle will be over!” On the British side, Ferguson was supremely valorous, rapidly dashing from one point to another, rallying his men, oblivious to all danger. Wherever the shrill note of his silver whistle sounded, there the fighting was hottest and the British resistance the most stubborn. His officers fought with the characteristic steadiness of the British soldier; and again and again his men charged headlong against the wavering and fiery circle of the frontiersmen.

Ferguson’s boast that “he was on King’s Mountain, that he was king of the Mountain, and God Almighty could not drive him from it” was doubtless prompted, less by a belief in the impregnability of his position, than by a desperate desire to inspire confidence in his men. His location was admirably chosen for defense against attack by troops employing regulation tactics; but, never dreaming of the possibility of sudden investment, Ferguson had erected no fortifications for his encampment. His frenzied efforts on the battlefield seem like a mad rush against fate; for the place was indefensible against the peculiar tactics of the frontiersmen. While the mountain flamed like a volcano and resounded with the thunder of the guns, a steady stricture was in progress. The lines were drawn tighter and tighter around the trapped and frantically struggling army; and at last the fall of their commander, riddled with bullets, proved the tragic futility of further resistance. The game was caught and bagged to a man. When Winston, with his fox-hunters of Surry, dashed recklessly through the woods, says a chronicler of the battle, and the last to come into position,

Flow’d in, and settling, circled all the lists,

then

From all the circle of the hills death sleeted in upon the doomed.

The battle was decisive in its effect shattering the plans of Cornwallis, which till then appeared certain of success. The victory put a full stop to the invasion of North Carolina, which was then well under way. Cornwallis abandoned his carefully prepared campaign and immediately left the state. After ruthlessly hanging nine prisoners, an action which had an effectively deterrent effect upon future Tory murders and depredations, the patriot force quietly disbanded. The brilliant initiative of the buckskin-clad borderers, the strenuous energy of their pursuit, the perfection of their surprise all reinforced by the employment of ideal tactics for meeting the given situation were the controlling factors in this overwhelming victory of the Revolution. The pioneers of the Old Southwest the independent and aggressive yeomanry of North Carolina, Virginia, and South Carolina had risen in their might. Without the aid or authority of blundering state governments, they had created an army of frontiersmen, Indian-fighters, and big-game hunters which had found no parallel or equal on the continent since the Battle of the Great Kanawha.