A correspondent of a Southern paper, after narrating “the outrages committed by Averill and his hand," concludes his letter with the following amusing yet unfortunate incident:
“Few tragedies are without their comic and grotesque interludes. And Averill's devastating march had its farce. On the very top of Price's or Eleven Mile Mountain, as it is sometimes called, dwells a widow woman, with a considerable family, including several grandchildren. She seems to defy the elements of the most tempestuous height I know of. Up to this elevated position, where everything may be supposed to be pure and nice from its thorough ventilation, a romantic justice of the peace had carried his affections, and fixed them on a fair daughter of the widow. His aspirations met with the highest favor, and on the very night of Averill's advent their mutual loves culminated in a wedding feast, celebrated amidst the wild shrieking and howlings of the tempest on the mountain. The festivity had progressed to the fourth degree with uncommon energy. The gentler sex were paying their respects to the supper table, and some of the more vigorous of the mountaineers were employing their time with a powerful jig. A famous Boniface from the valley below had thrown off coat, jacket, and shoes, and was spreading himself. Indeed, the dance promised to rival that of Tam O'Shanter, beheld in Kirk Alloway — the locality and surroundings, and the tempest, all favored a scene of no small dramatic effect. But just then — O, untimely event! — the Yankees obtruded upon the scene, and dissipated all its joys, and terminated for the night all its physical recreations. They ate up all the supper — took some thirty horses, ridden up by the guests from the ‘valley below' — and carried off as prisoners the male portion of the guests, including the hero of the dance, and, worst of all, the bridegroom besides! To the inexpressible mortification of the prisoners, they saw one of the ladies of the wedding party kiss a Yankee for a cupful of coffee, which he had offered to any one of them who would bestow such a mark of favor on him. The prisoners were marched off, and detained a day or two before they were permitted to return, on foot."
Thus ended the comedy of the terrible mountain raid of Averill — a warning to wedding parties on the border to look out for Yankees.
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