The Life of General Francis Marion Part 7

So his brother took him and Newton to see them. And indeed it was a mournful sight to behold them, where they sat, poor fellows!

all hand-cuffed, on the ground. But all pity of them was forgot, soon as the eye was turned to a far more doleful sight hard by, which was a young woman, wife of one of the prisoners, with her child, a sweet little boy of about five years old. The name of this lady was Jones.

Her humble garb showed her to be poor, but her deep distress, and sympathy with her unfortunate husband, showed that she was rich in that pure conjugal love, that is more precious than all gold.

She generally sat on the ground opposite to her husband, with her little boy leaning on her lap, and her coal black hair spreading in long neglected tresses on her neck and bosom.

And thus in silence she sat, a statue of grief, sometimes with her eyes hard fixed upon the earth, like one lost in thought, sighing and groaning the while as if her heart would burst -- then starting, as from a reverie, she would dart her eager eyes, red with weeping, on her husband's face, and there would gaze, with looks so piercing sad, as though she saw him struggling in the halter, herself a widow, and her son an orphan. Straight her frame would begin to shake with the rising agony, and her face to change and swell; then with eyes swimming in tears, she would look around upon us all, for pity and for help, with cries sufficient to melt the heart of a demon.

While the child seeing his father's hands fast bound, and his mother weeping, added to the distressing scene, by his artless cries and tears.

The brave are always tender-hearted. It was so with Jasper and Newton, two of the most undaunted spirits that ever lived. They walked out in the neighboring wood. The tear was in the eye of both.

Jasper first broke silence. "Newton," said he, "my days have been but few; but I believe their course is nearly done."

"Why so, Jasper?"

"Why, I feel," said he, "that I must rescue these poor prisoners, or die with them; otherwise that woman and her child will haunt me to my grave."

"Well, that is exactly what I feel too," replied Newton -- "and here is my hand and heart to stand by you, my brave friend, to the last drop. Thank G.o.d, a man can die but once, and there is not so much in this life that a man need be afraid to leave it, especially when he is in the way of his duty."

The two friends then embraced with great cordiality, while each read in the other's countenance, that immortal fire which beams from the eyes of the brave, when resolved to die or conquer in some glorious cause.

Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were sent on for Savannah, under a guard of a sergeant and corporal with eight men.

They had not been gone long, before Jasper, accompanied by his friend Newton, took leave of his brother, and set out on some errand to the upper country.

They had scarcely, however, got out of sight of Ebenezer, before they struck into the piny woods, and pushed hard after the prisoners and their guard, whom they closely dogged for several miles, anxiously watching an opportunity to make a blow. But alas! all hopes of that sort seemed utterly extravagant; for what could give two men a chance to contend against ten, especially when there was found no weapon in the hands of the two, while the ten, each man was armed with his loaded musket and bayonet.

But unable to give up their countrymen, our heroes still followed on.

About two miles from Savannah there is a famous spring, generally called the 'Spa', well known to travellers, who often turn in hither to quench their thirst. "Perhaps," said Jasper, "the guard may stop there."

Then hastening on by a near cut through the woods, they gained the Spa, as their last hope, and there concealed themselves among the bushes that grew abundantly around the spring.

Presently the mournful procession came in sight, headed by the sergeant, who, on coming opposite to the spring, ordered a halt. Hope sprung afresh in our heroes' bosoms, strong throbbing too, no doubt, with great alarms, for "it was a fearful odds." The corporal with his guard of four men, conducted the prisoners to the spring, while the sergeant with the other four, having grounded their arms near the road, brought up the rear. The prisoners, wearied with their long walk, were permitted to rest themselves on the earth.

Poor Mrs. Jones, as usual, took her seat opposite to her husband, and her little boy, overcome with fatigue, fell asleep in her lap.

Two of the corporal's men were ordered to keep guard, and the other two to give the prisoners drink out of their canteens.

These last approached the spring where our heroes lay concealed, and resting their muskets against a pine tree, dipped up water: and having drank themselves, turned away, with replenished canteens, to give the prisoners also. "Now! Newton, is our time!" said Jasper.

Then bursting, like two lions, from their concealment, they s.n.a.t.c.hed up the two muskets that were rested against the pine, and in an instant shot down the two soldiers that kept guard. And now the question was, who should first get the two loaded muskets that had just fallen from the hands of the slain. For by this time the sergeant and corporal, a couple of brave Englishmen, recovering from their momentary panic, had sprung and seized upon the muskets; but before they could use them, the strong swift-handed Americans, with clubbed guns, levelled each at the head of his brave antagonist, the final blow.

The tender bones of the skull gave way beneath the furious strokes, and with wide scattered blood and brains down they sunk, pale and quivering to the earth without a groan. Then s.n.a.t.c.hing up the guns which had thus, a second time, fallen from the hands of the slain, they flew between the surviving enemy, and ordered them to surrender, which they instantly did.

Having called the prisoners to them, they quickly with the point of their bayonets, broke off their handcuffs, and gave each of them a musket.

At the commencement of the fray, poor Mrs. Jones, half frightened to death, had fallen to the ground in a swoon, with her little son piteously screaming over her. But when she came to herself, and saw her husband and friends around her, all freed from their fetters and well armed, she looked and behaved like one frantic with joy.

She sprung to her husband's bosom, and with her arms around his neck, sobbed out, "Oh bless G.o.d! bless G.o.d! my husband is safe; my husband is not hung yet;" then s.n.a.t.c.hing up her child, and straining him to her soul, as if she would have pressed him to death, she cried out -- "O praise! praise! praise G.o.d for ever! my son has a father yet!"

Then wildly darting round her eyes in quest of her deliverers, she exclaimed, "Where! where are those blessed angels that G.o.d sent to save my husband?"

Directing her eyes to Jasper and Newton, where they stood like two youthful Samsons, in the full flowing of their locks, she ran and fell on her knees before them, and seizing their hands, kissed and pressed them to her bosom, crying out vehemently, "Dear angels! dear angels! G.o.d bless you! G.o.d Almighty bless you for ever!"

Then instantly, for fear of being overtaken by the enemy, our heroes s.n.a.t.c.hed the arms and regimentals of the slain, and with their friends and captive foes, recrossed the Savannah, and in safety rejoined our army at Purysburgh, to the inexpressible astonishment and joy of us all.

Chapter 8.

The count D'Estang, with the French fleet, arrives to attack Savannah -- our army marches and joins him -- fatal effects of D'Estang's politeness -- biographical dash of young colonel Laurens -- curious dialogue betwixt him and the French general -- unsuccessful attack on Savannah -- the brave Jasper mortally wounded -- is visited by the author in his last moments -- interesting conversation -- dies like a Christian soldier.

Could the wishes of our army have availed, those gallant soldiers, (Jasper and Newton) would long have lived to enjoy their past, and to win fresh laurels. But alas! the former of them, the heroic Jasper, was soon led, like a young lion, to an evil net.

The mournful story of his death, with heavy heart I now relate.

Scarcely had he returned from Georgia, laden, as aforesaid, with glory, when an express came into camp, and informed that the count D'Estang was arrived off Tybee. Instantly we struck our tents and marched for the siege of Savannah. On arriving near that fatal place, we found that the French troops, with their cannon and mortars, had just come up.

Oh! had we but advanced at once to the attack, as became skilful soldiers, we should have carried every thing before us. The frighted garrison would have hauled down their colors without firing a shot.

This I am warranted to say by the declaration of numbers of their officers, who afterwards fell into our hands. But in place of an immediate 'coup de main', the courtly D'Estang sent a flag, very politely inviting the town to do him the extreme honor of receiving their surrender.

The British commander was not much behindhand with the count in the article of politeness, for he also returned a flag with his compliments, and requested to be permitted four and twenty hours to think of the matter.

If the ASKING such a favor was extraordinary, what must the GRANTING of it have been? But the accomplished D'Estang was fully equal to such douceurs for he actually allowed the enemy four and twenty hours to think of surrendering!

But instead of THINKING, like simpletons, they fell to ENTRENCHING, like brave soldiers. And being joined that very day by colonel Maitland from Beaufort, with a regiment of Highlanders, and a.s.sisted by swarms of negroes, decoyed from their masters under promise of freedom, they pushed on their works with great rapidity. According to the report of our troops who were encamped nearest to them, nothing was heard all that night, but the huzzas of the soldiers, the lashes of cow-hides, and the cries of negroes.

I never beheld Marion in so great a pa.s.sion. I was actually afraid he would have broke out on general Lincoln. "My G.o.d!" he exclaimed, "who ever heard of any thing like this before! -- first allow an enemy to entrench, and then fight him!! See the destruction brought upon the British at Bunker's Hill! and yet our troops there were only militia!

raw, half-armed clodhoppers! and not a mortar, nor carronade, nor even a swivel -- but only their ducking guns!

"What then are we to expect from regulars -- completely armed with a choice train of artillery, and covered by a breast-work!

For my own part, when I look upon my brave fellows around me, it wrings me to the heart, to think how near most of them are to their b.l.o.o.d.y graves."

In fact, Marion was so outrageous, as indeed were all of us, that we at length begged colonel Laurens to speak to the count D'Estang.

And here I must beg the reader's pardon a moment, while I inform him that this colonel Laurens (son of President Laurens) was a very extraordinary young Carolinian.

On a trip to London, he fell in love with, and married a celebrated belle of that city. It would seem that he was very much taken with his English relations, and they with him, for after his marriage, they would not suffer him to revisit his parents, who doted on him, being their only son, but detained him with them in London, as gay as a young man well could be, in the gayest city in the world, moving every day in the highest circles of society, and every night encircled in the fond arms of a beauteous wife.

But soon as the war against America broke out, his gaiety all forsook him.

The idea of a ruffian soldiery overrunning his native land, preyed incessantly on his spirits, and threw him into those brown studies which cost his lady full many a tear. Unable to bear his disquietude, he fled at length from his wife and infant family, to fight for his country.

He presented himself before the great Washington, who was so struck with the fire that beamed from his eyes, that he made him handsome offers of rank in the army. But his favorite service was to lead 'forlorn hopes', and the daring bands that are destined to carry the enemy's works by storm. Washington often gave him letters to this effect to his generals. And this was his object at Savannah, where a regiment of choice infantry was immediately put under his command.

But instead of being permitted his favorite pleasure of seeing his ardent warriors mounting the enemy's works, and rushing down streams of fire, followed by the bayonet, he was doomed to fret and pine in the humble office of interpreter between count D'Estang and general Lincoln.

"But, Monsieur le count," said Laurens to D'Estang, "the American officers say they are afraid you have given the English too long time to think."

At this, as Laurens told us afterwards, the count put on a most comic stare, and breaking into a hearty laugh, replied, "De Engleesh think! ha, ha, ha!

By gar dat one ver good parole! De Engleesh tink, heh, Monsieur le colonel!

By gar, de Engleesh never tink but for deir bellie.

Give de Jack Engleeshman plenty beef -- plenty pudding -- plenty porter, by gar he never tink any more, he lay down, he go a sleep like vun hog."

"But, Monsieur le count," continued Laurens, "the English are doing worse for us than thinking. They are working away like horses, and will soon get their defences too high for us to scale."

"Eh, heh, Monsieur le colonel! you think-a so? Well den, by gar you no need for tink-a so -- by gar my French-a-mans run over de fence just like vun tief horse run over de cornfield fence -- mind now I tell-a you dat, Monsieur le colonel."

"Well, but Monsieur le count, the British sometimes fight like the d---l."

"Sacre Dieu!" replied the nettled count, starting and gaping as though he would have swallowed a young alligator -- "de Briteesh fight like de diable! Jaun foutre de Briteesh!

when they been known for fight like de diable? Ess, ess, dat true enough; dey fight de Americans like de diable -- but by gar dey no fight de French-a-mans so -- no no, by gar dey no make one mouthful for my French-a-mans -- Morbleu! my French-a-mans eat dem up like vun leetle grenoulle."

"Green Owl!" exclaimed one of general Lincoln's aids -- "Oh my G.o.d! who ever heard of a 'green owl' before?"