Perhaps the fated destiny which frequently appears to await the soldier, hanging over him like a shield while he passes through the most desperate danger, until the appointed hour arrives, was never more apparent than in the case of Lt. Col. Webster, of the British army in this same retreat. When the rear of the American army, composed as has been observed principally by the Legion, had passed the Reedy Fork, the British van under the command of Webster, endeavoured to ford the river and bring them into action, a point which Cornwallis was anxious to attain, but which was entirely foreign to the plan of Greene, whose object was to wear out his pursuers. Under the cover of a dense fog, the British had attained a short distance of the Legion before they were discovered. They made their appearance on the opposite bank of the river, and after halting a few moments, descended the hill and approached the water, but receiving a heavy fire of musketry and rifles, they fell back and quickly reascending, were again rallied on the margin of the bank. Col. Webster rode up, calling upon the soldiers in a loud voice to follow, and rushing down the hill, at their head, amid a galling fire poured from the Legion troops, he plunged into the water. In the woods occupied by the riflemen, was an old log schoolhouse, a little to the right of the ford. The mud stuffed between the logs had mostly fallen out, and the apertures admitted the use of rifles with ease. In this house Lee had posted five and twenty select marksmen from the mountain militia, with orders to forego engaging in the general action, and directions to hold themselves in reserve for any particular object which might present. “The attention of this party being attracted by Webster, as he plunged into the water, they singled him out as their mark. The stream being deep, and the bottom rugged, he advanced slowly, the soldiers, some of them, holding on by his stirrup-leathers,—and one by one they discharged their rifles at him, each man sure of knocking him over, and, having re-loaded, eight or nine of them, emptied their guns at him a second time, yet strange to relate, neither horse nor rider received a single ball. The twenty-five marksmen were celebrated for their superior skill, and it was a common amusement for them to place an apple on the end of a ramrod and hold it out at arm’s length, as a mark for their comrades to fire at, when many balls would pass through the apple, yet the British officer, mounted on a stout horse, slowly moving through a deep water course, was singled out and fired at thirty-two or three times successively, and yet remained untouched, and succeeded in effecting a lodgment on the bank, where he formed his troops under a heavy fire.” This gallant officer, and polished gentleman, the favourite of Cornwallis, subsequently fell at the battle of Guilford Court-House, not more regretted by his brother soldiers, than admired by those of the American army.