Part 5

In reply to this, a fictitious name was given, as Sallette and his companions afterwards found out.

"Where is your camp?" asked Sallette.

"We are from over the river," answered the man, meaning the Altamaha.

"Where did you cross?"

"At Beards Ferry." This was where the Whigs and the Liberty Boys were most numerous.

"That is not true!" exclaimed Sallette.

Then he turned to the second man, asked the same questions, and received the same replies. He turned to the third man, asked the same questions, and received the same replies.

"If you do not tell me the truth," exclaimed Sallette to this last man, "I'll cut off your head!"

The man persisted, and Sallette was as good as his word. The others begged for their lives, and declared that they would guide Sallette straight to their camp. This they did; and Sallette, aided by his prisoners, captured a large party of Tories.

Once when Robert Sallette and Andrew Walthour were marching with the advance guard of the American troops, they suddenly met the advance guard of the British. A short but sharp skirmish followed, during which a very large man of the British guard was killed. Observing that the dead man wore a pair of good boots, Sallette determined to get them. While he was pulling them off in the midst of a furious fire from the enemy, his companions called out to him to come away or he would surely be killed. "I must have the boots!" cried Sallette to his companions. "I want them for little John Way!"

Here was fun in the midst of tragedy; for it is said that little John Way could have put both his feet and his fists into one of the boots.

One day Sallette dressed himself up as a British officer and accepted an invitation to dine with a party of the enemy. Suddenly, in the midst of the toasting and drinking, Sallette drew his sword, killed the men who sat to the right and left of him, sprang on his horse, and rode off unhurt, though he was in such a hurry that he had no time to throw the bridle reins over the horse's head.

At the White House, near Sunbury, Major Baker, of the patriot army, with thirty men, attacked and defeated a party of Tories under command of Captain Goldsmith.

Among the slain was Lieutenant Gray, whose head was almost severed from his body by a stroke of Robert Sallette's sword.

On many occasions, when a battle was in progress, Sallette would detach himself from the American army, gain the rear of the enemy, and kill many men before he was discovered. If this brave man was indeed a descendant of the Acadians, he avenged the wrongs of many of his countrymen.

Another character who attracted attention during the War of the Revolution was Patrick Carr, whose hatred of the Tories made his name celebrated among the Liberty Boys of Georgia. Paddy Carr, as he was called, lived and died in Jefferson County. He was born in Ireland, but came to Georgia before the Revolution. When the independence movement began, he threw himself into it with all the ardor of his race. Owing to the cruelty of the Tories, he conceived a special hatred against them. He showed them no quarter. History gives but a word or two to his achievements, but tradition still keeps his name alive in the region where he operated. Like Sallette, he was an independent partisan; but, unlike Sallette, his operations were among those who could remember well enough, but who would not take the trouble to preserve the particulars of even the least of his exploits. We know that Patrick Carr lived. We know that he became famous where recklessness and daring were common. But that is nearly all we know. It is said of him that during the war he killed one hundred Tories with his own hands. Once, when praised for his bravery, he smiled and shook his head, saying that he would have made a very good soldier, but the Lord had given him a heart that was too merciful. He no doubt remembered the atrocities of the Tories in the section that is now Jefferson, Columbia, Burke, and Wilkes counties. The cruelties they committed in that region during the Revolution have no parallel in civilized warfare.

Among the adventurous characters of that time, on the side of the British, Daniel McGirth stands easily first. The history of his career during the war is a strange one. He was born in South Carolina, and entered into the struggle against the British with the utmost enthusiasm. He was a brave man, a hard fighter, and one of the most active of those who took up arms against the King. He was an expert woodsman, and was at home in the saddle. He was assigned to duty as a scout, and was better equipped for that service, perhaps, than any man in the American army. The ease with which he secured information of the enemy's movements and plans, and the energy that marked his movements, made his services of great value to the patriot cause. This was not thoroughly appreciated by some of the officers under whom McGirth acted.

He brought with him into the army a mare which he called "The Gray Goose." She is said to have been an elegant animal, and McGirth was very proud of her. With this mare under him, he always felt safe from pursuit. One of the American officers, who was a good judge of horseflesh, and who probably wanted to "cut a dash," as the saying is, saw this beautiful mare, and coveted her. Finding that McGirth scorned all offers to sell her, the officer adopted various means to obtain her. These efforts were resisted by McGirth, mainly on the ground that the mare was his own private property, and that she was essential to the duties he was called on to perform. Failing to gain his ends in this way, the officer continued to worry McGirth in other ways. He no doubt did something to rouse the ire of the scout, who was an irritable man, and who felt the importance of the service he was rendering to the cause. It is not now known how McGirth insulted the officer,--whether in a moment of passion he struck him, or whether he merely used rough language to him.

Whatever the offense, McGirth was placed under arrest, tried by a court-martial, found guilty of violating the articles of war, and sentenced to be whipped. He received this punishment, and was placed in confinement again, where he was to remain until he received another whipping. While thus held, he saw his mare picketed near the camp, and he immediately resolved to escape. He was successful in this. Once free, he secured The Gray Goose, leaped into the saddle, turned around, and, in the face of his pursuers, pronounced threats of vengeance against all the Americans for his ill treatment.

There is no doubt that he was illtreated; but if he had not been an ignorant man, he would not have pronounced against the cause of liberty on account of the treatment he received at the hands of individuals. But the savage in his nature was aroused, and he carried out his fierce threats to the fullest extent. For the time being, he attached himself to another American command; but at the first opportunity he deserted to the enemy, and became the scourge and terror of those who opposed the British cause. He spared none. His field extended from the Florida line to the Savannah River, in what is now Elbert County, and far into South Carolina. He appeared when least expected, and carried destruction with him. His mare became as noted as her master. In what was then Upper Georgia, she was known as "The Bald-faced Pony." On many an occasion he owed his life to the fleetness of his mare. But his vengeance was never satisfied: it was always active, and thirsting for the blood of the American patriot. The whim of the officer to possess McGirth's mare was a foolish one at best. It was the cause of great public and private suffering.

When South Carolina was rescued from the British, McGirth retreated into Georgia, and finally into Florida. When the Spaniards regained possession of that territory, he became subject to their laws. For some reason or other he was thrown into one of the dungeons of the old fort at St. Augustine, where he was confined for five years. When released, his health was broken, and it was with great difficulty that he managed to return to Sumter District, in South Carolina, where his wife lived.

A very queer and eccentric character in the Revolution was Captain Rory Mcintosh, of Mallow. Though Rory was a kinsman of General Lachlan and Colonel John Mcintosh, who were among the most active Liberty Boys in Georgia, he took up arms for the King, and a very devoted Tory he was. His eccentricities would have been called whims if he had not stuck to them with such constancy. He was a Highlander and a follower of the Stuarts. How and why he became loyal to the new line of British kings, history does not state; but his clan had a chief, and he no doubt thought that every government ought to have a monarch. When the Revolution began, he was over sixty years of age, and was living comfortably on his plantation at Mallow; but he volunteered, and fought through the war.

A story is told of Rory Mcintosh that once when the Spaniards held East Florida, he carried to St Augustine a drove of cattle. He received payment in dollars, which he placed in a canvas bag behind him on his horse. When near his home, the bag gave way, and a part of the money fell out. He secured what was left and rode on, paying no attention to that which had fallen from the bag. When in need of money some years after, he returned to the place where the dollars had spilled, picked up as many as he wanted, and went back home. Whenever he could, he went about accompanied by a piper. Rory was a tall, finely formed man,'with bristling whiskers and a ruddy complexion: consequently when he appeared on parade, he attracted great attention.

In 1778 two expeditions were sent from St. Augustine for the purpose of attacking Savannah,--one by sea, and one by land under command of Lieutenant Colonel Prevost. This land expedition had been joined by Captain Roderick Mcintosh, in the capacity of a volunteer. He attached himself particularly to the infantry company commanded by Captain Murray. When the British laid siege to Sunbury and the fort, Captain Murray's company was in the line near the fort. One morning when Captain Rory had had a dram too much, he determined to sally out and summon the fort to surrender. His comrades tried to restrain him, but he was determined. Finally he strutted out, a drawn claymore in his hand, with his trusty slave Jim. He approached the fort and cried out,--

"Surrender, you miscreants! How dare you presume to resist his Majesty's arms?"

Colonel Mcintosh, who commanded the fort, saw at once the condition of Captain Rory, and forbade the men to fire. Then he threw open the gate, and said,--

"Walk in, Mr. Mcintosh, and take possession."

"No," cried Rory, "I'll not trust myself among such vermin. I order you to surrender!"