Col. Wm. CAMPBELL and Governor SHELBY.

It is now forty-two years since the battle of King’s Mountain was fought, and since public opinion and history had assigned to Col. William Campbell whatever honour was due to the commander of such an enterprize. As this was the first success of the American arms after the disastrous campaign of Gen. Gates, and the beginning of that series of military events in the south, which brought the war to a happy termination; it is seen in the history of the revolution in a bolder relief than if it had been preceded and followed by the ordinary vicissitudes of war. There was, too, a boldness in the conception of the enterprize, a perseverance1 & courage in its execution, and a completeness in its result, which were not combined in an equal degree, in any of the minor events of the revolution; abundant as was that glorious war, in instances of bravery and patriotic devotion. It was a voluntary expedition of undisciplined militia, who embodied themselves2 for the purpose of striking a formidable corps of the enemy, separated from them by a distance of two hundred miles, across a mountainous and uninhabited tract of country. Armed with their own rifles, mounted on their own horses, and carrying their own provisions, seven hundred of these mountain militia arrived at the scene of action, under Col. William Campbell, who, upon the march, had been elected to the command. He found the enemy, composed of more than a thousand regulars and tories, stationed upon King’s Mountain, behind successive ledges of rock, which formed a kind of natural breast-work. Thus encamped, and it may be said, fortified, they were without hesitation3 attacked by the militia, who had marched all the night before through torrents4 of rain:—and, after an action of little more than an hour, they were compelled to surrender at discretion, with the loss of their commander Col. Ferguson,*5 and 350 killed and wounded.

So singular and daring an achievement, so happily accomplished, obtained for the officers engaged in it, the most honorable notice from the government, and the highest applause throughout the country. As the commander of the expedition, Col. Campbell received distinguished testimonials of approbation and gratitude from the government of Virginia; and history has given him a place amongst those high and daring spirits who signalize the annals of our revolution. A few months afterwards, he bore a distinguished part in the battle of Guilford;6 and in the ensuing summer died in the service, while attached to the command of the Marquis la Fayette, near Richmond.

From that time, until 1810, it had not been insinuated that his honors were unmerited: much less that his memory could be blighted by the imputation of cowardice, manifested in the very achievement which was the foundation of his fame. This strange imputation, however, is made at this late period, by Governor Isaac Shelby, of Kentucky; and has recently been published to the world, in three letters, from him to Col. Sevier, bearing date in 1810.

Besides the general duty (which every one will recognise) to defend the memory of my ancestor, there is a particular obligation upon me, in this instance, derived from a circumstance mentioned in one of Governor Shelby’s letters: viz.—that the State of Virginia gave me, as the only male representative of Col. Campbell, the sword which had been voted to him, but not purchased, during his life. These charges, bring the title by which I hold it into question; and, if they were true, I could no longer look upon this testimonial of mistaken gratitude with any other feeling than that of shame, or regard it in any other light than as a monument of hereditary disgrace. But shame and disgrace do not belong to the name of Col. Campbell: and however painful it may be to call in question the accuracy of one so distinguished as Governor Shelby; historic truth, and justice to the dead, require that these charges should be disproved: and if they necessarily recoil upon Governor Shelby, or if a free discussion of his statements results in the exposure of their groundlessness, I can only regret that he has placed himself and Col. Campbell in such direct opposition, that both can not quit this controversy with honour.

To Governor Shelby’s question in his first letter, “what did Col. Campbell merit more than you or me did?” I can not pretend to give an answer: nor is it by any means necessary for Colonel Campbell’s vindication, that I should assert his superiority over two such meritorious officers; although, as commander of the expedition, he, of course, had a wider sphere, both of usefulness and responsibility, and his unanimous election by the field officers, to that command, he too, being the youngest officer, was an evidence of their reliance upon his character. But I do not pretend to institute such an invidious, and, at the same time, such an unnecessary comparison; especially with Col. Sevier, whom I have [not]7 known reduced, to the unhappy extremity of pulling down the reputation of another, to build up one for himself.

This question of Governor Shelby’s, is immediately followed by the broad assertion, “that it is a fact well known, and for which he, (Col. Campbell) apologised to me the day after the action, that he was not within less than a quarter of a mile of the enemy at the time they surrendered to you and myself.” Before I disprove this charge by the positive testimony of eye witnesses and participators in the transaction, let me remark upon the singularity of the fact which it records. The commander in chief not within a quarter of a mile of the enemy surrendering to his troops, and apologising to his subaltern for this strange dereliction of duty!! Did he fly from the presence of the army, covered with the conscious shame of his acknowledged cowardice? Was he ignominiously driven from amongst the triumphant troops whom he had thus scandalously abandoned?—Was he arrested for this open cowardice in the face of the enemy? Did the country at large resound with his disgrace, which must have been notorious to every common soldier? Did Col’s. Cleveland, Shelby and Sevier, say to him, “Sir, you have not shared our danger; you shall not share our honours.—You are a coward, and we scorn to serve under you?”—No such results took place; this discovery of the absence of the commander in chief is not made until he has been buried 30 years, and most of the soldiers who were with him, have died in the delusion that they were led to victory by a brave man, whose presence was the surest indication of the point of danger.

The glaring improbability upon the front of such an assertion, together with so long an acquiescence in the prevalence of an universal belief to the contrary, will weigh heavily against the high authority of Governor Shelby, and are certainly calculated to shake the credit of any witness, even of the fairest character, in whom no motive of interest, vanity, or ambition, could be found to induce an unfair representation. But I do not rely upon this internal and inherent improbability in the charges themselves. They are unequivocally contradicted by the statements of Mr. Beatie, Mr. Snodgrass, Mr. King, Mr. M’Culloch,8 Mr. Dickenson, &c. &c. all men of good standing and respectability; and their statements are sustained by the voluntary affidavit of Mr. Shoemaker. They all concur in the fact, that Col. Campbell, throughout the engagement, was in the front of danger, animating the men to persevere, and that at the moment of surrender he was in the midst of the enemy. Mr. King states, that “while the enemy were in the act of surrendering, and before the firing had discontinued, he saw a British officer deliver his sword to Col. Campbell.”

Mr. Snodgrass says, that he saw Col. Campbell coming from amongst the enemy, before the firing of the Americans had ceased, with several swords in his hands.

Mr. Crow’s statement is marked with so much intelligence, and at the same time, simplicity, that I am tempted to give a somewhat longer extract from it. The concluding words are even solemn. “Here the enemy found themselves surrounded. They grounded their arms, and raised a white flag. The flag fell immediately, and another was raised. Our young men did not know the meaning of a flag, and fired some guns after it was raised. I was in less than the length of my gun of Col. Campbell when we closed around the enemy.—Dupoister, who then commanded the enemy, (Ferguson being killed) was sitting on a grey beast, and addressed Col. Campbell in the following words: ‘Col. Campbell, it was damn’d unfair.’—He repeated these words a second time; the Colonel made him no reply; but ordered him to dismount; he then said, prisoners, take off your hats: then he said, prisoners, sit down; and then he said, officers, rank by yourselves. I saw with my eyes, and heard with my ears, what is here stated: and this statement I have made at request, and to which at any time I am willing to be sworn.” Although, in this statement, there is somewhat of the garrulity of an old man talking of scenes which he delights to remember, yet there is a distinctness in his recollection,9 and an air of candor and truth, which carries belief along with it.

Mr. Shoemaker’s deposition, and Mr. M’Culloch’s,10 are to the same effect.—Mr. Beatie says that he saw Col. Campbell riding along the lines, encouraging and exhorting the men, in the hottest of the engagement, and directly under the enemy’s fire. “When the British demanded quarters,” continues Mr. Beatie, “I was within fifteen or twenty steps of their lines. A few minutes after I observed the flag, the British surrendering commander came very near the spot where several others and myself were standing, & enquired, ‘where is your general?’ Myself, or some one who was standing near, pointed out Col. Campbell; whereupon, he11 advanced towards him, holding his sword by the point, and thus delivered it to him.” As to the12 charge of absence during the battle, and cowardice, these statements are absolutely conclusive. If there is any variation between them in regard to the minuter circumstances, it may easily be explained by the different points of view which the relative position of each spectator13 afforded him. The witnesses are of unimpeachable veracity, and entirely exempt from those influences which might warp the statements of more aspiring men. Their station in life is not elevated: but by no means degraded: and if on the one hand they are exempt from the seductions of vanity, by the mediocrity of their stations: on the other, their independence and respectability place them above meaner motives. The truth of their recollections, too, is strongly corroborated by cotemperary statements of Governor Shelby himself, who, in an autograph letter in my possession, written a few days after the action, applied to Col. Campbell an epithet very little consistent with his representations of 1810. “On the first outset,” says Governor Shelby, “the Washington militia attempted rapidly to ascend the mountain, but were met by the British regulars with fixed bayonets, and forced to retreat to the foot of the mountain: where they were rallied by their gallant commander and some of his active officers; the enemy were repulsed in turn, and shortly after surrendered.” It was the leader of this first rapid outset; it was this gallant commander who rallied his fugitive militia before the fixed bayonets of British regulars, of whom the same writer says in 1810, that he had but little share, and “that he was not in a quarter of a mile of the enemy, when they surrendered to you and myself.” Besides this letter, there is another document of a curious character; an account of the action: drawn up and subscribed by the officers the day after, while yet in camp on King’s Mountain. This account is in Colonel Shelby’s hand writing: and is signed by him, Col. Campbell, and Col. Cleveland. It has no official character, and was probably written for the private satisfaction of the parties, each taking a copy; and perhaps had in view the very purpose for which I now use it; the protection of either of the subscribers from future misrepresentation. According to this account, the battle was decided in this way. “The troops upon the right (Col. Campbell’s division) having gained the summit of the eminence, obliged the enemy to retreat along the top of the ridge to where Col. Cleveland commanded, and were there stopt by his brave men; a flag was14 hoisted,” &c. Thus it is given under Col. Shelby’s own hand in 1780, that the enemy was routed by the division commanded by Col. Campbell in person.

This venerable memoir, too, furnishes a contradiction in direct terms, to another statement in the letters to Col. Sevier; Governor Shelby says there, “that the great body of the men who crossed the mountains on that15 expedition, were raised and embodied by your and my own united exertions.”—In this statement of 1780, he says, Col. William Campbell brought 400 men from Washington County, Virginia;—Col. Isaac16 Shelby, 240,17 from Sullivan County, North-Carolina; and Colonel John Sevier 240, from Washington county, North-Carolina; Cols. Shelby and Sevier thus bringing from their two counties, 8018 more than Col. Campbell brought from one.

This direct self-contradiction, will, of course, excite a well founded suspicion in regard to all the statements of Governor Shelby; and, besides, as his declarations of 1780, in conjunction with other evidence, remove the grounds of the apology said to have been made, no fair conclusion can result but that it was never made. In regard to this apology, too, there is an obvious, not to say monstrous, improbability, upon the face of it. It is entirely incredible that Col. Campbell, at the head of his victorious men, in the moment of victory, to which all acknowledged he had led them—flushed with his recent honors, and hot from the battle, should have volunteered an ignominious confession of cowardice, made still more disgraceful by the meanness of an apology to his subaltern. It is in vain to say that he who rallied his militia at King’s Mountain, in the face of regular troops, and brought them back to a successful attack—that he, who, a few months afterwards, at Guilford, fought his raw militia against the best regulars of Lord Cornwallis, while the panic-struck troops of North-Carolina were flying in every direction around them—with a patient courage and firmness which drew from Gen. Greene and Col. Lee letters of the warmest commendation and thanks—it is in vain to say that he ever felt or acknowledged cowardice. The whole analogy of his life disproves it. His character was that of courage approaching to rashness. But would Governor Shelby, with the knowledge of these facts thus brought out in another century, in the ardent feelings of the moment have styled him gallant commander? Would he have continued to serve under him? would he have permitted him to bear away the honors of the achievement: to receive the applause of the army: an unanimous vote of thanks from the legislature: a horse, sword, and pistols, and an immediate promotion to the rank of brigadier?—Why did he not say then, “Gentlemen, you are mistaken: Campbell is a poltroon: it is I who deserve these honors.” Without pretending to impeach the well tried courage of Governor Shelby, I may, however, say, that it would have required a greater degree of resentment and indignation, than that which overcame him in 1810, to have prompted such language while Colonel Campbell could have heard.

The keen sense of justice to his own character and posterity which has animated Col. Shelby, in 1810,19 to speak of the dead with an acrimony resembling the heat of personal altercation, and to urge himself, with such vehemence, upon the sluggish gratitude of the North-Carolina legislature, has, no doubt, led him into an error with respect to the application made to the legislature of Virginia by the friends of Col. Campbell. Neither he or his descendants ever cast about for friends and acquaintances to interest upon the occasion, neither the living or the dead were plundered of their reputation to enhance his. The sword was given20 to me when I was an infant. Gen. Campbell’s services did not stand in need of being sustained, and urged upon the legislature, by intrigue and electioneering. He was long since dead; and although he died in camp and had a soldier’s funeral, there was nothing in the immediate circumstances calculated to reflect lustre upon his past life, or impress his services deeper upon the gratitude of his country. The eloquent and pathetic lament of the Marquis La Fayette, who issued the order for his burial, was forgotten, except by those whose personal connection with him made them treasure up this honorable memorial. The legislature, however, had not forgotten King’s Mountain and Guilford: and therefore, in 180021 carried into effect its resolution of 1780. Unquestionably the chief honor conferred upon Col. Campbell by the legislature was in the unanimous adoption of the original resolution: and not in the presentation of the horse, sword, and pistols. And yet Governor Shelby’s indignation and resentment were mute at the passage of the resolution: they were22 mute, too, when the horse was given to Col. Campbell; they never were23 heard of by the public, until, in a canvass for the office of governor in Kentucky, Col. Shelby was presented to the people covered with laurels which he had torn from the tomb of a dead fellow-soldier.

It was of the same date of one of these letters, or, at least, during the same canvass, that a similar narrative of the battle of King’s Mountain was published in a Lexington newspaper, loading Col. Campbell with the same obloquy, and according the same self-attributed praise to Col. Shelby. This publication, it is true, was made in a way calculated to destroy its authority with intelligent men, if the anonymous writer had not, more through awkwardness than design, left apparent the source from which he derived his materials. Had it not been for this circumstance, I should have neglected it as one of those despicable effusions of reckless ignorance and degraded moral sense which crowd the press of that state in the heat of popular election; but as Col. Shelby was conspicuous through the thin veil of a fictitious signature, I took some pains to disprove it by the publication of several of the certificates annexed to these remarks.—This anonymous character, however, enabled me then, to avoid the pain of considering Governor Shelby as the immediate author; and, while I have now vindicated the reputation of my grandfather from most unmerited aspersions, it has been a source of regret, at every step, that this vindication necessarily involves a grave charge upon the accuracy of Governor Shelby. I look upon the character of distinguished men as the inheritance of the republic: and I feel the impropriety of wantonly diminishing the moral wealth of my country. No ordinary motive could have induced me to impute to Governor Shelby what this defence implies, and what, if successful, it has established.24