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. One more shot was discharged from the English party, and Singleton received a second ball in his side. The assailants then fled, leaving the resolute old planter master of the field, with his eldest son, a young man of the best habits, dead at his feet. His wounds did not prevent his collecting his negroes after the flight of his enemies; he then walked back half a mile to where he had left his horse, mounted, and rode home, although upwards of fifty years of age. Mortification was for some time apprehended; but he at last recovered perfectly, and was, when I left Mobile, in robust health. The detail of this affair, as it stands in the journal, is concluded by a regular list with the names of killed and wounded; but not one word of comment. It is now in my possession, and the account may be relied upon as authentic in every particular.