The Life of General Francis Marion Part 13

The young officers began to stare.

Gathering from their looks, that some of the company did not relish this kind of philosophy, he quickly thus resumed his speech.

"Pardon! gentlemen, I beg pardon! I must not be misunderstood.

By 'religion', I don't mean 'priest-craft'. I don't mean that superst.i.tious grimace; that rolling up of white eyes, and spreading of sanctified palms; with 'disfigured faces and long prayers,'

and all the rest of that holy trumpery, which, so far from making people cheerful, tends but to throw them into the dumps.

But I mean, by 'religion', that divine effort of the soul, which rises and embraces the great author of its being with filial ardor, and walks and converses with him, as a dutiful child with his revered father.

Now gentlemen, I would ask, all prejudice apart, what is there can so exalt the mind and gladden the heart, as this high friendship with heaven, and those immortal hopes that spring from religion?"

Here one of the company, half blushing, as palpably convicted by the truth of the general's argument smartly called out -- "Well but, general, don't you think we can do pretty well here in camp, without religion?"

"What!" replied De Kalb, "would you give it all up to the priests?"

"Yes, to be sure I would," said the young officer, "for I am for every man's following his own trade, general. They are priests, and we are soldiers.

So let them do all the praying, and we will do all the fighting."

"Why, as to the fighting part," rejoined De Kalb, "I have no objection to doing all that for the priests, especially as their profession does not allow them to fight for themselves. But as to giving them up all the devotion, I confess I am not so liberal. No! no! gentlemen, charity begins at home; and I am not for parting with pleasure so easily."

"PLEASURE!" replied the young officer with a sneer.

"Yes, sir, PLEASURE," returned De Kalb. "According to my creed, sir, piety and pleasure are synonymous terms; and I should just as soon think of living physically, without bread, as of living pleasantly, without religion. For what is religion, as I said before, but HABITUAL FRIENDSHIP WITH G.o.d? And what can the heart conceive so delightful?

Or what can so gratify it in all its best and strongest desires.

For example, gentlemen, we are all fond of honor. I, for my part, am fond of the friendship of the king of France. You glory in the friendship of the great Washington. Then what must be the glory of him who is in friendship with G.o.d? Again, gentlemen, we are all born to love, to admire, to adore. If a man have no love, he is gloomy.

If he love a worthless object, he is mortified. But if he love a truly worthy object, his face shines, his eyes sparkle, his voice becomes sweet, and his whole air expressive of cheerfulness.

And as this happy feeling must, in the nature of things, keep pace with the excellence of the object that is beloved, then what must be the cheerfulness of him who loves the greatest, best, and loveliest of all beings, whose eternal perfections and goodness can for ever make him happier than heart can ask or think?

"In a word, gentlemen, though I am a soldier, and soldiers you know are seldom enthusiasts in this way, yet I verily believe, as I said before, that a man of enlightened and fervent piety must be infinitely happier in a cottage, than an irreligious emperor in his palace."

In the height of this extraordinary conversation, an officer stepped in and announced the arrival of general Gates.

And here, as I have in this chapter given the reader what the jockies call a 'pretty long heat', I beg leave to order a halt and allow him a little time to breathe.

Chapter 12.

Gen. Gates -- bon mot of British general Lee -- how an army ought not to march -- De Kalb prophecies -- chickens counted before they are hatched, alias, Marion and the author sent by Gen. Gates to prevent the escape of Cornwallis, before he had run -- the British and American armies meet -- Gates and his militia-men leave De Kalb in the lurch -- his gallant behavior, and glorious death.

When a poor fellow is going down hill, it is but too common, they say, for every body to give him a kick.

"Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For heaven hath made them so."

But, if I know myself aright, I can truly say, that nothing of this vile spirit suggests a syllable of what I now write of the unfortunate general Gates. On the contrary, I feel an ardent wish to speak handsomely of him; and in one view of him I can so speak.

As a gentleman, few camps or courts ever produced his superior.

But though a perfect Chesterfield at court, in camp he was certainly but a Paris. 'Tis true, at Saratoga he got his temples stuck round with laurels as thick as a May-day queen with gaudy flowers.

And though the greater part of this was certainly the gallant workmanship of Arnold and Morgan, yet did it so hoist general Gates in the opinion of the nation, that many of his dear friends, with a prudent regard, no doubt, to their own dearer selves, had the courage to bring him forward on the military turf and run him for the generalissimoship against the great Washington.

But though they were not able to prosper him in this mad attempt, yet they so far succeeded as to get him the command of the army of Carolina, where his short and calamitous career soon caused every good patriot to thank G.o.d for continuing to his servant Washington, the command of the American armies.

On his way from the northern states, general Gates pa.s.sed through Fredericksburg, where he fell in with general Charles Lee, who, in his frank manner, asked him where he was going.

"Why, to take Cornwallis."

"I am afraid," quoth Lee, "you will find him a tough piece of English beef."

"Tough, sir," replied Gates; "tough! then begad I'll tender him.

I'll make 'piloo' of him, sir, in three hours after I set eyes upon him."

"Aye! will you indeed?" returned Lee. "Well then send for me, and I will go and help you to eat him."

Gates smiled; and bidding him adieu, rode off. Lee bawled after him, "Take care, Gates! take care! or your northern laurels will degenerate into southern willows."

The truth is, though general Lee was extremely splenetic, other than which, such a miserable old bachelor and infidel could hardly be, yet he certainly had a knack of telling people's fortunes.

By virtue of this faculty he presently discovered that general Gates was no Fabius; but on the contrary, too much inclined to the fatal rashness of his unfortunate colleague.

And so it turned out. For, from the moment he joined the army, he appeared to act like one who thought of nothing but to have it proclaimed of him in all the newspapers on the continent, that in so many days, hours, minutes, and seconds, he flew from Philadelphia to South Carolina, 'saw, fought, and conquered' Cornwallis; and flew back again with the trophies of a second British army vanquished.

Instead of moving on as old De Kalb had done, with a prudent regard to the health and refreshment of the troops, he, Jehu like, drove them on without regard to either. He would not take the lower road, as De Kalb earnestly advised, through a rich and plentiful country.

Oh no; that was too round about; would too long have delayed his promised glory.

Like an eagle shaking his bold pinions in the clouds of his pride, he must dash down at once upon his prey; and so, for a near cut, take us through a pine barren, sufficient to have starved a forlorn hope of caterpillars. I shall make no attempt to describe the sufferings of the army. For, admitting that I should not lack words, my reader would, I am sure, lack faith. Indeed, at this season, when the old crop was gone and the new not quite come in, what had we to expect, especially in such a miserable country, where many a family goes without dinner, unless the father can knock down a squirrel in the woods, or his pale sickly boy pick up a terrapin in the swamps? We did, indeed, sometimes fall in with a little corn; but then, the poor, skinny, sun-burnt women, with long uncombed tresses, and shrivelled b.r.e.a.s.t.s hanging down, would run screaming to us, with tears in their eyes, declaring that if we took away their corn, they and their children must perish. Such times I never saw, and I pray G.o.d, I may never see nor hear of again; for, to this day, the bare thought of it depresses my spirits. But perhaps I ought to think of it, and often too, that I may be the more thankful to him who never, but in that one instance, permitted me to suffer, except in thinking of it.

There was one case in particular which I shall never forget.

Almost spent with fatigue and fasting, we halted one evening near the house of a man, whose plantation bespoke him a tolerably good liver.

He met us with a countenance strongly marked with terror, and begged for G.o.d's sake we would not ruin him, for that he had a large family of children to maintain. We told him that we were soldiers fighting for the country, and that it would never do for us to starve.

Understanding from this that we meant to forage upon him that night, he heaved a deep sigh, and turning about, went off without saying another word. I must confess I could not help feeling very sensibly for him, especially when we saw his little white-headed children, in melancholy groups, peeping at us around the corners of the house.

His young corn, which seemed to cover about fifty acres, was just in the prime, roasting ear state, and he had also a couple of beautiful orchards of peach and apple trees, loaded with young fruit. Scarcely were our tents pitched, before the whole army, foot and horse, turned in to destroy.

The trees were all threshed in a trice; after which the soldiers fell, like a herd of wild boars, upon the roasting ears, and the horses upon the blades and stalks, so that by morning light there was no sign or symptom left that corn had ever grown there since the creation of the world. What became of the poor man and his children G.o.d only knows, for by sunrise we were all under marching orders again, bending for the south. I said ALL, but I only meant all that were ABLE.

For numbers were knocked up every night by agues, fluxes, and other maladies, brought on by excessive fatigue and lack of food.

I once before observed how highly the baron de Kalb had been pleased to think of Marion and myself travelling so far to meet him.

His liking for us grew so fast, that we had not been with him more than two days, before he appointed us his supernumerary aids.

We were, of course, much in his company, and entrusted, I believe, with every thought of his bosom that related to the good of the army.

He made no scruple to tell us how utterly unmilitary those proceedings were; and frequently foretold the ruin that would ensue.

"Here," said he, "we are hurrying to attack an enemy, who, if they but knew our condition, would long for nothing so much as our arrival. We, two-thirds at least, raw militia; they, all regulars.

We, fatigued; they, fresh. We, feeble and faint through long fasting; they, from high keeping, as strong and fierce as game c.o.c.ks or butchers'

bull dogs. It does not signify, gentlemen; it is all over with us; our army is lost as sure as ever it comes into contact with the British.

I have hinted these things more than once to general Gates, but he is an officer who will take no counsel but his own."

The truth is, general Gates was one of that crazy-brained quality, to whom it is a misfortune to be fortunate. The least dram of success would intoxicate and make him fool hardy. He could never bring himself to believe, as he used to say, that "lord Cornwallis would dare to look him in the face."

So confident, indeed, was he of victory, that on the morning before the fatal action, he ordered Marion and myself to hasten on to Santee river, and destroy every scow, boat or canoe, that could a.s.sist an Englishman in his flight to Charleston!

Immediately on receiving orders, we waited on the good old De Kalb to take leave; and also to a.s.sure him of our deep regret at parting with him.

"It is with equal regret, my dear sirs," said he, "that I part with you, because I feel a presentiment that we part to meet no more."