The Life of General Francis Marion Part 23

This fine sentiment of the poor black was entirely lost on our malignant whites; who, throwing the end of the halter over the limb of an oak, tucked him up as though he had been a mad dog.

He hung till he was nearly dead; when one of them called out, "D--n him, cut him down, I'll be bound he'll tell us now."

Cudjo was accordingly cut down; and, as soon as a little recovered, questioned again about his master. But he still declared he knew nothing of him. He was then hoisted a second time; and a second time, when nearly dead, cut down and questioned as before: but still a.s.serted his ignorance. The same inhuman part was acted on him a third time, but with no better success; for the brave fellow still continued faithful to his master, who squatted and trembled in his place of torment, his brier bush, and saw and heard all that was pa.s.sing.

Persuaded now that Cudjo really knew nothing of his master, they gave up the shameful contest, and went off, leaving him half dead on the ground, but covered with glory.

It is not easy to conceive a situation more severely torturing than this of captain Snipes. His house, with all his furniture, his kitchen, his barn and rice-stacks, his stables, with several fine horses, and his negro houses, all wrapped in flames; himself scorched and blistered with the furious heat, yet not daring to stir; his retreat well known to a poor slave; and that slave alone, in the hands of an enraged banditti, with their muskets at his breast, imprecating the most horrid curses on themselves, if they did not instantly murder him unless he disclosed the secret! What had he to expect of this poor slave, but that he would sink under the dreadful trial, and to save himself would sacrifice his master. But Snipes was safe. To discover his hiding-place, death stared his slave in the face, but, happily, his slave possessed for him that "love which is stronger than death."

Captain Snipes and his man Cudjo had been brought up from childhood together; and the father of our hero being a professor of Christianity, a Baptist preacher, whose main excellence is "to teach little children to love one another," had taken great pains to inspire his son with love towards his little slave. Nor did that love pa.s.s unrequited.

For Cudjo used every day to follow his young master to school, carrying his basket for him, prattling as he went; and smiling, would remind him of the coming Sat.u.r.day, and what fine fishing and hunting they would have that day. Many a time had they wrestled, and slept side by side on the green; and thence springing up again with renovated strength, set out in full march for some favorite fruit tree, or some cooling pond, there to swim and gambol in the refreshing flood.

And when the time of dinner came, Cudjo was not scornfully left to sigh and to gnaw his nails alone, but would play and sing about the door till his young master was done, and then he was sure to receive a good plate full for himself. LOVE, thus early ingrafted on his heart, grew up with daily increasing strength to manhood; when Snipes, by the death of his father, became master of the estate, made Cudjo his driver or overseer, and thus rivetted on his honest bosom that sacred friendship which, as we have seen, enabled him to triumph in one of the severest trials that human nature was ever put to.

The above is a solemn fact, and the wise will lay it to heart.

Chapter 21.

Marion pursues major Muckleworth -- fine anecdote of the major -- Marion's generosity to him.

Learning that a detachment of the British were marching up Black river towards Statesburgh and Camden, general Marion gave orders to chase; which was conducted, as usual, with such rapidity, that about sunset of the second day we came up with them. Our advance, composed of choice fellows, instantly began to skirmish with the enemy, of whom they killed eight or nine. A few on both sides, rather badly wounded, were made prisoners. Marion, coming up, gave orders to call off the troops, meaning to give the enemy a serious brush in the morning. -- But of this gratification they entirely disappointed us, by striking their tents and pushing off in silence before day.

Soon as light returned, and the retreat of the British was announced, we renewed the pursuit; and by late breakfast-time, reached the house at which the enemy had refreshed themselves. This house belonged to a poor, but excellent old lady, well known to Marion.

The general was hardly alighted from his horse, before the old lady had him by the hand, declaring how happy she had always been to see him, "but now," continued she, "if I an't right down sorry to see you, then I'll be hanged."

Marion, with a look of surprise, asked her why she was sorry to see him NOW.

"Oh! don't I know you too well, general? don't I know that old Scratch himself can't keep you from fighting? And now you are hurrying along here, with all your men, only to fight the British. An't it so now, general?"

Marion told her, that that was indeed his business.

"Well, dear me now! and did I not tell you so? But pray now, my dear general Marion, let me beg of you, don't you do any harm to that dear good man, that major Muckleworth,* who went from here a little while ago: for O! he's the sweetest-spoken, mildest-looking, n.o.blest-spirited Englishman I ever saw in all my born days.

As to that Rawdon and Tarleton, G.o.d's curse upon the thieves and blackguards!

I would not care if you could kill a thousand of THEM.

But that good major Muckleworth! indeed, indeed now general, you must not hurt a hair of his head, for it would be such a crying sin."

-- * Simms gives this name as "McIlraith", and James as "M'Ilraith", but in this one case, Weems' corruption of the name, which colloquially means "much worth", is more satisfying. -- A. L., 1997.

Marion asked her in what respects was he better than other British officers.

"Better than other British officers!" replied the old lady. -- "Lord bless your dear soul, general Marion! Well, come along, come along with me, and I'll let you see."

We followed the old lady, who, tripping along nimble as a girl, conducted us into a clean looking cabin, wherein sat a middle-aged man very genteelly dressed, and several wounded persons lying before him, on pallets on the floor. Marion saluted the stranger, who informed us that he was "a surgeon in the service of his Britannic majesty, and left by major Muckleworth to take care of the wounded; of whom, sir, I believe that nearly one half are your own men."

Here the old lady's face brightened up towards Marion; and giving him a very significant look, she said, "Ah ha, general! didn't I tell you so?"

Then diving her withered hand in her pocket, she scooped up a shining parcel of English guineas, and exultingly cried out, "See there, general! see there's a sight for you? and every penny of it given me by that dear good gentleman, major Muckleworth; every penny of it, sir. Yes, and if you will but believe me, general, when I and my daughters were getting breakfast for him and his people, if he didn't come here himself with his sergeants, and had this place swept out all so sweet and clean for them poor sick people; and, with his own dear hands too, helped that gentleman there to dress and doctor the poor things, that he did.

"And then besides all that, general, he was such a sweet spoken gentleman!

for when I asked him how his men came to be hurt so, he did not, like that beast Tarleton, turn black and blue in the face, and fall to cursing the d----d rebels. Oh no! not he indeed.

But he said with a smile, We got them wounded last night, madam, in a little brush with your brave countryman, general Marion.

"Now only think of that, general! And besides, when he was going away, what do you think he did? Why, sir, he sent for me and said, -- Well, my good madam, and what shall I pay you for all the trouble we have given you, and also for taking care of the doctor I am going to leave with you, and the sick people, who may be on your hands for a fortnight yet?

"I told him it was no business of mine to fix a price.

"He seemed surprised, and asked me what I meant by that.

"I answered that I was now all one as his prisoner, and prisoners had nothing they could call their own.

"My king, madam, said he, does not make war against widows.

"I told him I wished to G.o.d all his countrymen had remembered that!

it would have saved the hunger and nakedness, and cries and tears of many a poor widow and orphan. At this he seemed mightily hurt.

"I then told him that many of the British officers, after eating and drinking all that they wanted, for themselves and people, and horses, instead of turning round to pay, as he had done, had turned in to plunder, and then set fire to the houses, not leaving the widows and children a cover over their heads, nor a bit of bread for their mouths, nor a st.i.tch of clothes for their backs.

"My G.o.d! said he, and is this the way that my countrymen have come here to carry on war! Well madam, (so he went on) my king does not know any thing of this, nor does the English nation, I am sure.

If they did, they would certainly call those officers to account.

Such men will ruin our cause. For the word of G.o.d a.s.sures us, that his ear is always open to the cry of the widow and orphan; and believe me, madam, I dread their cry more than I do the shouts of an enemy's army. However, madam, (continued he,) I have not a moment to lose, for I am sure general Marion is pursuing me as hard as he can, so let me know what I owe you.

"I told him again, I made no charge; but since he was so good as to insist on giving me something, I begged to leave the matter entirely to himself.

Upon which, after a moment's study, he looked at me and said, Well, madam, suppose we say sixpence sterling a-piece man and horse, all around, will that do? I replied that was too much, a great deal too much, for such a poor breakfast as I had given him and his men.

Not a penny too much, madam, said he, live and let live is the royal law, madam, and here's your money. With that he put all these guineas here, into my hand! and said moreover, that if the doctor and sick people should be longer with me, and give me more trouble and cost than we had counted on, then I must send a note to him, at such a house in Charleston, and he would send me the money.

And now, general, would it not be a burning shame to go kill such a dear good gentleman as that?"

Marion listened with delight to the old lady's history of this amiable officer; but on her leaving him to hasten our breakfast, he looked very pensive, and at a loss what to do. However, as soon as the troops were refreshed, he ordered my brother, colonel H. Horry, who led the advance, to remount, and push after the enemy with all speed.

We followed close in the rear. For an hour the general did not open his mouth, but rode on like one absorbed in thought.

At length heaving a deep sigh, he said, "Well, I suppose I feel now very much as I should feel, were I in pursuit of a brother to kill him."

About three o'clock our advance came up with the enemy, near the wealthy and hospitable captain John Singleton's mills, where the firing instantly commenced, and was as spiritedly returned by the British, still retreating. Our marksmen presently stopped one of Muckleworth's captains, and several of his men, who lay dead on the ground at the very spot where we happened to join the advance.

The sight of these poor fellows lying in their blood, gave the general's wavering mind the casting vote in favor of generosity; for he immediately cried out, "Call off the troops! call off the troops!"

Then turning to his aid he said, "I cannot stand it any longer; we owe yon Englishmen to our injured country; but there is an angel that guards them.

Ten righteous Lots would have saved Sodom. One generous Muckleworth shall save this handful. Let us turn and fight other enemies."

The general's orders were quickly pa.s.sed on to the troops to cease firing.

And to their credit be it spoken, they never, I believe, obeyed his orders with more alacrity than on this occasion. Indeed I heard many of them say, afterwards, that major Muckleworth's generosity to their wounded comrades and to the poor widow, had so won their hearts to him, that they had none left wherewith to fight against him; and they said also, that, for their parts, they had rather kill a thousand such savages as Rawdon and Tarleton, than hurt a hair of major Muckleworth's head.

From the effect produced on our troops, by this amiable officer's conduct, I have often been led to think favorably of a saying common with Marion, viz., had the British officers but acted as became a wise and magnanimous enemy, they might easily have recovered the revolted colonies.

Never did the pulse of love towards a parent state beat stronger in human bosoms, than in those of the Carolinians towards Britain.

We looked on her as indeed our mother, and on her children as our brothers.

And ah! had their government but treated us with correspondent kindness, Carolina would have been with them to a man. Had they said to the people, as they might easily have done (for there was a time, and a long time too, when the whole state was entirely at their feet,) had they then said to us, "We are far richer, far stronger, than you; we can easily burn your houses, take your provisions, carry off your cattle, and sweep your country with the besom of destruction; but we abhor the idea. Your houses, your women, your children, are all sacred in our eyes; and even of your goods we will touch nothing without giving you a reasonable price."

Had they but said this, Carolina would, to a certainty, have been divorced from Congress, and re-wedded to Britain.