Convinced that the royalists would seek revenge for their late defeat at Mobley's Meeting House, and naturally fearing that his own family might be among the victims, Colonel Bratton had that day marched from Mecklenburg county, North Carolina, with seventy-five men. Late in the evening he drew near his house, and learning that the enemy were there, and ascertaining their number, he made speedy preparations for an attack. The guard of the royalists was neglected, and he found no trouble in reconnoitering the encampment. All things ready, the attack was made before Huck had finished his morning nap. He awoke only to attempt to rally his men and then lie down again to sleep for ever! The tories seeing their leader fall, fled, or made the attempt. Some _did_ escape, others were killed, others taken prisoners. The firing ceased about day light, when Mrs. Bratton made her appearance. She received the wounded on both sides, and showed them impartial attention, setting herself to work immediately, dressing their wounds and trying to relieve their pains. She who was so brave in the hour of danger, was no less humane in a time of suffering.[47] [47] The following toast was drunk at Brattonsville, York district, on the twelfth of July, 1839, at a celebration of Huck's Defeat. "The memory of Mrs. Martha Bratton.--In the hands of an infuriated monster, with the instrument of death around her neck, she nobly refused to betray her husband; in the hour of victory she remembered mercy, and as a guardian angel, interposed in behalf of her inhuman enemies. Throughout the Revolution she encouraged the whigs to fight on to the last; to hope on to the end. Honor and gratitude to the woman and heroine, who proved herself so faithful a wife--so firm a friend to liberty!" Prior to the fall of Charleston at a period when ammunition was very scarce, Governor Rutledge intrusted to her a small stock of powder. This fact some tory ascertained, and communicated to the British at a station not far off. A detachment was forthwith sent out to secure the treasure, of which movement Mrs. Bratton received early intimation. Resolving that the red coats should not have the prize, she laid a train of powder from the depot to the spot she chose to occupy; and when they came in sight, she blew it up. "Who has dared to do this atrocious act? Speak quickly, that they may meet the punishment they deserve," was the demand of the officer in command. "Know then, 'twas _I_," was the dauntless reply of Mrs. Bratton, "and let the consequences be what they will," she added, "I glory in having frustrated the mischief contemplated by the merciless enemies of my country." A POOR WOMAN'S OFFERING. The world is but a word; Were it all yours, to give it in a breath, How quickly were it gone! SHAKSPEARE.