of the 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:  Gates MSS.  Letter of Campbell, Shelby, Cleavland, etc., Oct. 4, 1780.] Disorders had naturally broken out.  The men of the different companies felt some rivalry towards one another; and those of bad character, sure to be found in any such gathering, could not be properly controlled.  Some of Cleavland’s and McDowell’s people were very unruly; and a few of the Watauga troops also behaved badly, plundering both whigs and tories, and even starting to drive the stolen stock back across the mountains. [Footnote:  Deposition of Col.  Matthew Willoughby (who was in the fight), April 30, 1823, Richmond Enquirer, May 9, 1823.]