I may add here, that, within a month of this time, these fiends atrociously murdered the child of a planter, out of revenge for some real or fancied affront; and, finding the exploit likely to prove serious, fled to Texas.[2]
My next illustration is of a kind so little in keeping with the year 1835, that it would be a better story if dated from the debateable land, anno Dom. 1535. The hero of the fight I am about to narrate is as fine a specimen of an old Irishman as ever I met with, and I have seen him frequently: his name is Robert Singleton, and his residence is Baldwin county, in this State.
It appears that Mr. Singleton had lent to a Mr. English four or five negroes, whom at a certain time he claimed, according to agreement, and took back to his own place: hence arose a dispute as to the right of possession; which dispute the sons of Mr. English decided upon settling in a right border fashion.
Accompanied by three of their white neighbours, and three of their father's slaves, the two Englishes repaired to the plantation of Mr. Singleton. He was absent; but they surrounded the house, and, after a resistance on the part of the slaves, which cost one of them his life, the number claimed were made prisoners, and marched off for the country of their captors.
Meantime, a lad who had escaped from the house on the first attack, found, and communicated the surprisal and the result to his master, Mr. Singleton, who, accompanied by his eldest son, without a moment's hesitation put spurs to horse, and took the line of country likely to cut off the retreat of the enemy.
Early on the next morning, July 4th, the Singletons came upon a bridge they knew the Englishes must cross; and, not discovering new tracks, decided to halt here: they had not waited half an hour, when the other party came in sight.
A parley was called. Singleton, senior, declared himself and son resolute to maintain the bridge against all comers, unless his slaves were restored.
The elder brother, W. English, begged the Singletons not to fire, as they would surrender the negroes: at the same time, the party alighted; but as Singleton turned his head to desire his son to stand fast, he received a shot in the left shoulder; and, on a second, saw his son fall dead across his feet. Clapping his gun to his shoulder, he shot David English through the brain; a barrel was at the same moment levelled against him by Wm. English, but snapped: again he called on Singleton not to shoot; but he this time called in vain. Taking up his son's loaded piece, he shot his adversary whilst in the act of stooping to lift his dead brother's rifle.