The Life of General Francis Marion Part 22

But, finding he was dropping astern very fast, he slyly cut the straps of his mail pillion, and so let his keg, brandy and all go by the run, over his horse's rump. Captain Snipes, who led the chase, found no difficulty in pa.s.sing the keg: but his men coming up instantly, broached to, all standing; for they could no more pa.s.s by a keg of brandy, than young monkeys could pa.s.s a basket of apples.

Snipes cursed and raved like a madman, but all in vain: for they swore they must have a dram. While they were devising ways and means how to get into the keg, the supposed tories, now a good distance ahead, came to a halt, and their captain fortunately reflecting that their pursuers might not be enemies, sent back a flag. The result was, the very joyful discovery, that the owners of the keg were good whigs coming to join general Marion. Thus, to a moral certainty, this keg of brandy was made, of kind heaven, the happy means of preventing much bloodshed that day.

Having given two cases of brandy, the one good, the other bad, I will now give a third, which the reader, if he pleases, may call indifferent, and which runs as follows.

General Marion, still encamped in the neighborhood of Georgetown, ordered captain Withers to take sergeant Macdonald, with four volunteers, and go on the enemy's lines to see what they were doing. On approaching the town, they met an old tory; one of your half-witted fellows, whom neither side regarded any more than a Jew does a pig, and therefore suffered him to stroll when and where he pleased.

The old man knew captain Withers very well; and as soon as he had got near enough to recollect him, he bawled out, "G.o.d's mercy, master Withers!

why, where are you going this course?"

"Going, old daddy! why to the devil, perhaps," replied Withers.

"Well faith! that's like enough, captain," said the old man, "especially if you keep on this tack much longer. But before you go any further, suppose you take a pull with me of this,"

holding up a stout tickler of brandy, "mayhap you may not get such good liquor where you are going."

"With all my heart, daddy," answered Withers, and twigg'd the tickler to the tune of a deep dram: and pa.s.sed it on to Macdonald, who also twigg'd it, "and Tom twigg'd it, and d.i.c.k twigg'd it, and Harry twigg'd it, and so they all twigg'd it." In the mean time the chat went round very briskly, and dram after dram, the brandy, until the tickler was drained to the bottom. And then the subtle spirit of the brandy, ascending into their noddles, worked such wonders, that they all began to feel themselves as big as field officers.

Macdonald, for his part, with a face as red as a comet, reined up Selim, and drawing his claymore, began to pitch and prance about, cutting and slashing the empty air, as if he had a score of enemies before him, and ever and anon, roaring out -- "Huzza, boys!

damme, let's charge!"

"Charge, boys! charge!" cried all the rest, reining up their horses, and flourishing their swords.

"Where the plague are you going to charge?" asked the old tory.

"Why, into Georgetown, right off," replied they.

"Well, you had better have a care, boys, how you charge there, for I'll be blamed if you do not get yourselves into business pretty quick: for the town is chock full of red coats."

"Red coats!" one and all they roared out, "red coats! egad, that's just what we want. Charge, boys! charge! huzza for the red coats, damme!"

Then, clapping spurs to their steeds, off went these six young mad-caps, huzzaing and flourishing their swords, and charging at full tilt, into a British garrison town of three hundred men!!

The enemy supposing that this was only our advance, and that general Marion, with his whole force, would presently be upon them, flew with all speed to their redoubt, and there lay, as snug as fleas in a sheep-skin.

But all of them were not quite so lucky, for several were overtaken and cut down in the streets, among whom was a sergeant major, a stout greasy fellow, who strove hard to waddle away with his bacon; but Selim was too quick for him: and Macdonald, with a back-handed stroke of his claymore, sent his frightened ghost to join the MAJORITY.

Having thus cleared the streets, our young troopers then called at the houses of their friends; asked the news; and drank their grog with great unconcern.

The British, after having for some time vainly looked for Marion, began to smell the trick, and in great wrath sallied forth for vengeance.

Our adventurers then, in turn, were fain to scamper off as fast as they had made the others before, but with better success; for though hundreds of muskets were fired after them, they got clear without receiving a scratch.

But nothing ever so mortified the British, as did this mad frolic.

"That half a dozen d--n-d young rebels," they said, "should thus dash in among us in open daylight, and fall to cutting and slashing the king's troops at this rate. And after all, to gallop away without the least harm in hair or hide. 'Tis high time to turn our bayonets into pitch forks, and go to foddering the cows."

Chapter 20.

History of captain Snipes -- wanton destruction of his property by the tories -- his own miraculous escape -- admirable fidelity of his negro driver Cudjo.

Captain Snipes, who made such a figure in the wars of Marion, was a Carolinian, of uncommon strength and courage; both of which he exerted with great good will, against the British and tories; from principle partly, and partly from revenge. But though a choice soldier, he was no philosopher.

He did not consider that to fight for duty, people must love it; that to love it, they must understand it; that to understand it, they must possess letters and religion: that the British and tories, poor fellows! possessing neither of these, were not to have been expected to act any other than the savage and thievish part they did act; and therefore, no more to be hated for it than the cats are for teasing the canary birds.

But captain Snipes had no turn for investigations of this sort.

Knowledge, by intuition, was all that he cared for; and having it, by instinct, that an "Englishman ought never to fight against liberty,"

nor an "American against his own country," he looked on them, to use his own phrase, as a "pack of d--n-d rascals, whom it was doing G.o.d service to kill wherever he could find them."

But Snipes was not the aggressor. He kept in, very decently, till the enemy began to let out, as they did, in plundering, burning, and hanging the poor whigs; and then, indeed, like a consuming fire, his smothered hate broke forth:

"That hate which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign The souls of royal slaves untimely slain."

Afraid, in fair fight, to meet that sword which had so often shivered their friends, they determined to take him as the Philistines did Samson, by surprise; and having learned from their spies, that he was at home, they came upon him in force about midnight.

His complete destruction, both of life and property, was their horrid aim.

Happily, his driver, or black overseer, overheard their approach; and flying to his master with terror-struck looks, cries out "Run! run! ma.s.sa, run! de enemy 'pon you."

Snipes, stark naked, save his shirt, darted out as swift as his legs could carry him.

"But where shall I run, Cudjo? into the barn?"

"Oh no, ma.s.sa! dey burn de barn, dat sure ting!"

"Well, where shall I run then?"

"Take de bush ma.s.sa! take de briar bush."

Within fifty yards of the house was a clump of briers, so thick set, that one would have thought a frightened cat would scarcely have squeezed herself into it from the hot pursuing dogs.

But what will not fear enable a man to do? Captain Snipes, big as he was, slipped into it with the facility of a weasel through the c.h.i.n.ks of a chicken-coop; but lost every thread and thrumb of his shirt; and moreover, got his hide so scratched and torn by the briers, that the blood trickled from him fast as gravy from a fat green goose.

Scarcely had he gained his hiding-place, before the tories, with horrid oaths, burst into his house, with their guns c.o.c.ked, ready to shoot him.

But oh! death to their hopes! he was gone: the nest was there, and warm, but the bird was flown!

Then seizing poor Cudjo by the throat, they bawled out: "You d----d rascal, where's your master?"

He told them he did not know.

"You lie! you black son of a b-t-h! you lie."

But he still a.s.serted he knew nothing of his master.

Suspecting that he must be in some one or other of his buildings, they set fire to them all; to his dwelling house, his kitchen, his stables, and even his negro cabins, watching all the while, with their muskets ready to shoot him as he ran out. From their nearness to his lurking place, the heat of his burning houses was so intense as to parch his skin into blisters. But it was death to stir, for he would certainly have been seen.

Not having made the discovery they so much wished, they again seized Cudjo; and, with their c.o.c.ked pieces at his breast, swore if he did not instantly tell them where his master was, they would put him to death.

He still declared he did not know where he was.

Then they clapped a halter round his neck, and told him to "down on his knees, and say his prayers at once, for he had but two minutes to live!"

He replied, that he "did not want to say his prayers NOW, for that he was no thief, and had always been a true slave to his master."