he enemy's foraging parties. The last one of the
Barnetts, belonging to this "terrible party," died in 1829, at a good
old age, within two miles of Cook's mills, on Big Sugar Creek.

A singular incident, occurring at this period, is here deemed worthy
of narration. A relative of the Spratts, named Elliott, was living on
the plantation at the time the British army arrived there from
Charlotte. Believing that they would capture him, if in their power,
he broke and ran for the cane-brake, about a half or three-quarters of
a mile below the spot where the sentinel was shot. As soon as the
alarm was given of his departure, Tarleton's terrible dragoons pursued
him, but he succeeded in making good his escape into the densest part
of the cane-brake thicket.

While he was listening to the terrible denunciations of Tarleton's
dragoons on their arrival at the swampy and imperious thicket, and
what they would do if they could only see a bush or a cane move, he
felt perfectly safe as long as he could remain motionless in his muddy
retreat. But when his fears had somewhat subsided in his place of
concealment, still more alarming apprehensions of danger presented
themselves, on his espying a venomous moccasin of the largest size,
moving slowly along in the water and mud, and directing its course so
near that, in all probability, it must strike him. He could not make
the least defence against his ugly approaching visitor, for fear of
exposing himself to the pistols of the British dragoons. All that he
could do in this dreadful predicament was to wave his hand in a gentle
manner towards the snake, which caused it to stop its course and throw
itself into a coil, preparatory for battle. Fortunately, just at this
time, the British dragoons made their welcome departure, and Elliott
moved out of the way of his serpentine majesty.

This was the _first_ and _last_ visit of Lord Cornwallis to "Charlotte
town." He came flushed with victory, and firmly anticipated similar
success in North Carolina. He departed laboring under vexation and
sore disappointment; not without bestowing a characteristic name
("Hornets' Nest") upon the patriotic sons of Mecklenburg around which
appellation cluster many thrilling historical and traditional
associations, destined to enshrine their memories in the hearts of
their countrymen, throughout all coming time.

SURPRISE AT M'INTYRE'S; OR, THE "HORNETS" AT WORK.

After the British army had been in Charlotte abou