Charles Mackey, as the leader of his band, had made himself very obnoxious to the Tories and they impatiently waited the time for vengeance. He was a man of medium size, very active and energetic, a fine horseman, a splendid shot, hot headed, impulsive, often running unnecessary risks and doing dare-devil deeds. No work was too hazardous for him. His wife, Lydia Mackey, was a woman of good common sense, with a clear head and fine judgment. In her coolness and self-possession she was far superior to her husband. They had a family of young children, and Charles Mackey had not heard from them or seen any of them in several weeks. Their home was not more than two and a half miles from Tarleton's camp, on the Hanging Rock Creek. He knew it would be hazardous for him to return to his home so near Tarleton's camp; but his anxiety became so great that he could no longer remain in doubt, so he cautiously made his way home where he unwisely loitered for a week, and during this time he had the temerity to enter Tarleton's lines more than once in search of information which was most valuable to his country's defenders. His home had patches of corn and potatoes on either side of a lane leading to the front of the house, while at the rear was a large kitchen-garden extending back to a great swamp, which was almost impenetrable to man or beast. This swamp was surrounded by a quagmire from ten to thirty feet wide. It was entered by jumping from tussock to tussock of moss covered clumps of mold, a foot or two in diameter and rising six to eight inches above the black jelly-like mire which shook in every direction when passing over it. A plank or fence-rail served as a temporary draw-bridge, which was pulled into the swamp after passing over. When the country was infested by Tories, Charles Mackey spent his days in this swamp if not out scouting. At night he ventured home. He had good watch dogs and they gave the alarm whenever any one approached, whether by night or day. If at night, he would immediately lift a loose plank in the floor of his bed room, drop through to the ground, and out in the rear and run thirty or forty yards across the garden with his gun in hand and disappear in the swamp, pulling his fence rail draw-bridge after him. There was no approach to the house from the rear, and his retreat was always effected with impunity.