Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 197 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 197: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful titled *Border Warfare* (page 179). The text describes a Revolutionary War battle involving Georgian and Virginia soldiers, focusing on a character named Tom who participates in a cavalry charge against British officer Tarleton. The narrative includes dialogue from various participants recounting the action—how Tom fired at Tarleton, was struck by a broadsword (which his buckle deflected), was knocked unconscious, and awoke as a prisoner in a covered wagon. The page contains no illustrations, only densely printed text in period typography.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
BoRDER WARFARE 179 foe, were the Georgians. Ah, but did n’t they take Fate by the throat that day! Twiggs, Clark, Chandler, Jackson, Hammond — of Georgia! — “resisted the furious charge of Tarleton’s cavalry.’”’ “Jackson, in this action, was un- surpassed.”’ “Clark’s Rifles insured the day.’ ‘When Sumter was carried from the field, Twiggs gained the battle.”’ Sumter, muttering on his litter, as it was borne at mid- night over the wild roads into North Carolina, whispered, “My brave Unaka?”’ A naked litter-bearer — like a bronze Mercury tipped with crows’ feathers — made answer, “ Micco?”’ ‘ Bring — Dare-Devil — to me!” Tarleton owed his life to his horse that day. And our Virginia boy’s life was saved by a steel buckle. Said Major Doyle, of the British Light Infantry, after the battle: “Wan av the Rebel gineral’s lieutenants is a ‘arf-breed chap, ’arnsome as a pitcher. When Sumter fell, this bit av a b’y jumps on a dirt-thy chicken-coop, clubs a musket, an’ lays out three av our fellows like thot! “Tuck feriver!’ he yells — a-crackin’ skulls as ye’d crack wal- nuts! An’ it’s mesilf thot heard him ter the vurry larst — ‘Tuck feriver!’ Ow! these Geor-r-gians! It’s thim’s the bloody fight-thers!”’ And ‘Tom himself? After the battle he said: * When Twiggs trumpeted, ‘Colonel Jackson, follow the enemy! Capture Tarleton!’ I was off with the rest. It was the happiest minute of my life. On we went, like mad. Oh, we crowded him! I was as close to Tarleton as Billy Washington was at the Cowpens. I fired. My bullet went through his sleeve — and then the redcoats were all around me! A broadsword came down across the back of my neck. My stock buckle turned the blade — but the blow felled me. I went to earth head foremost.”’ When Tom recovered his senses he was a prisoner. The stupefying pain at the back of his neck was all that con- cerned him. His hands and feet were tied. Night was com- ing. He was in a covered ox wagon. About midnight he CORNICLOOO eS (CO) m