vindictive civil war carried on between the
whigs and tories in North Carolina he suffered much. In return he
persecuted his public and private foes with ruthless ferocity, hanging
and mutilating any tories against whom the neighboring whigs chose to
bear evidence. As the fortunes of the war veered about he himself
received many injuries. His goods were destroyed, and his friends and
relations were killed or had their ears cropped off. Such deeds often
repeated roused to a fury of revenge his fierce and passionate nature,
to which every principle of self-control was foreign. He had no hope of
redress, save in his own strength and courage, and on every favorable
opportunity he hastened to take more than ample vengeance. Admitting all
the wrongs he suffered, it still remains true that many of his acts of
brutality were past excuse. His wife was a worthy helpmeet. Once, in his
absence, a tory horse-thief was brought to their home, and after some
discussion the captors, Cleavland's sons, turned to their mother, who
was placidly going on with her ordinary domestic avocations, to know
what they should do with the prisoner. Taking from her mouth the
corn-cob pipe she had been smoking, she coolly sentenced him to be hung,
and hung he was without further delay or scruple. [Footnote: Draper,
448.] Yet Cleavland was a good friend and neighbor, devoted to his
country, and also a staunch Presbyterian. [Footnote: Allaire's Diary,
entry for October 29th.]

The tories were already on the alert. Some of them had been harassing
Cleavland, and they had ambushed his advance guard, and shot his
brother, crippling him for life. But they did not dare try to arrest the
progress of so formidable a body of men as had been gathered together at
Quaker Meadows; and contented themselves with sending repeated warnings
to Ferguson.

On October 1st the combined forces marched past Pilot Mountain, and
camped near the heads of Cane and Silver creeks. Hitherto each colonel
had commanded his own men, there being no general head, and every
morning and evening the colonels had met in concert to decide the day's
movements. The whole expedition was one of volunteers, the agreement
between the officers and the obedience rendered them by the soldiers
simply depending on their own free-will; there was no legal authority on
which to go, for the commanders had called out the militia without any
instructions from the executives of their several States. [Footnote: