near the fields, where the whole army feasted on the young corn,
which, with fat venison, made a most delicious treat.

"The next morning we proceeded by order of colonel Grant,
to burn down the Indians' cabins. Some of our men seemed to enjoy

this cruel work, laughing very heartily at the curling flames,
as they mounted loud crackling over the tops of the huts.

But to me it appeared a shocking sight. Poor creatures! thought I,
we surely need not grudge you such miserable habitations.

But when we came, according to orders, to cut down the fields of corn,
I could scarcely refrain from tears. For who could see the stalks

that stood so stately with broad green leaves and gaily tasseled shocks,
filled with sweet milky fluid and flour, the staff of life;

who, I say, without grief, could see these sacred plants
sinking under our swords with all their precious load,

to wither and rot untasted in their mourning fields?
"I saw every where around the footsteps of the little Indian children,

where they had lately played under the shade of their rustling corn.
No doubt they had often looked up with joy to the swelling shocks,

and gladdened when they thought of their abundant cakes for the coming winter.
When we are gone, thought I, they will return, and peeping through the weeds

with tearful eyes, will mark the ghastly ruin poured over their homes
and happy fields, where they had so often played.

"`Who did this?' they will ask their mothers.
"`The white people did it;' the mothers reply; `the christians did it!'

"Thus for cursed Mammon's sake, the followers of Christ have sown
the hellish tares of hatred in the bosoms even of pagan children."

The reader will, however, with pleasure remember that these
were the dark deeds chiefly of a kingly government.* A gloomy monarch,

three thousand miles distant, and rolling in all the pomps and pleasures
of three millions of dollars per annum, could hardly be supposed to know

what was passing in the American wilds; but Washington had known.
With bleeding heart he had often beheld the red and white men

mingling in bloody fight. The horrors of the cruel strife
dwelt upon his troubled thoughts; and soon as God gave him power,

(AS PRESIDENT OF INDEPENDENT AMERICA,) he immediately adopted
that better system which he had learnt from the gospel. His successors,

Adams, Jefferson, and Madison, have piously pursued his plan.
In place of the tomahawk, the plough-share is sent to the poor Indians --

goods are furnished them at first cost -- letters and morals
are taught among their tribes -- and the soul of humanity is rejoiced

to see the red and white men meet together like brothers.
--

* This generalization is doubtful for the time of which Weems speaks,
and is certainly false for some subsequent periods,

in which Great Britain had far better relations with native peoples
(as in Canada) than did the United States. -- A. L., 1997.

--
By this god-like policy, the United States have not only saved

an immensity of blood and treasure, but are rapidly adding
to the population and strength of the country.

Now to return to Marion's letter. -- "After burning twenty towns,
and destroying thousands of cornfields,* the army returned to Koewee,

where the `Little Carpenter', a Cherokee chief, met colonel Grant
and concluded a peace." The troops were then disbanded:

and Marion returned to his plantation in St. John's parish,
where, with a few well-fed slaves, he continued to till his parental acres,

occasionally amusing himself with his gun and fishing rod,
of which he was always very fond.

--
* To this day the Indians cannot bear the name of colonel Grant;

and whenever they see a drove of horses destroying a corn-field,
they call out "Grant, Grant."

--
Chapter 3.

War between England and America -- Marion appointed a captain
in the Second South Carolina regiment -- goes with the author

on the recruiting service -- curious anecdote of lieut. Charnock
and captain Johnson -- some melancholy and memorable relations.

Marion continued to tread the peaceful and pleasant walks of life, as above,
till the beginning of May, 1775, when, by a vessel direct from Boston,

news was brought of the gallant battle of Lexington.
Instantly the whole town and country were in a flame for war,

and the legislature being purposely convened, hastened to meet
the wishes of the people, who were clamorous for raising two regiments

for the service.
On balloting for officers, Marion's ticket came out for a captaincy

in the second regiment, under command of the brave William Moultrie.
In a little time my name was called out as a captain, also,

in the same regiment with Marion. This to me, was matter of great joy,
as I had long courted the friendship of Marion. For though he was

neither handsome, nor witty, nor wealthy, yet he was universally beloved.
The fairness of his character -- his fondness for his relations --

his humanity to his slaves -- and his bravery in the Indian war,
had made him the darling of the country. It is not, therefore,

to be wondered at, that I should have taken such a liking to Marion,
but why he should have conceived such a partiality for me,

that's the question. But it is no business of mine to solve it.
However, very certain it is, that on the first moment of our acquaintance,

there was something in his eyes and looks towards me which led me to think
there must be truth in the old saying of "people's falling in love

at first sight." And when it is considered, that strong attachments
generally spring from congenialities, I must confess,

that the warm and constant friendship of Marion has ever appeared to me
exceedingly flattering.

But to return to my narrative. -- Our commissions as captains,
were soon made out, and signed by the council of safety,

the 21st of June, 1775. As we were a couple of flaming patriots,
we could not bear to be idle a single moment -- marching, fighting, killing,

and taking prisoners, was all that we could think or talk of.
But as all this fine sport could not be carried on without men,

nor men to be had without recruiting; recruiting, of course,
appeared to be the first act and prologue of our play.

"But what shall we do for money, captain Marion?" said I.
"Why," replied he, "we must get it from the assembly."

The assembly was accordinglyapplied to, but alas! "could not help us
to a single dollar!"

I wonder whether posterity will ever muster faith to believe
that the grey heads of South Carolina, without a penny in pocket,

ventured to war with Great Britain, the nation of the longest purse in Europe?
Surely it was of him who pitted young David with his maiden sling and pebbles

against the giant Goliath.
But though the poverty of the legislature was enough to have thrown a damp

on spirits of ordinary heat, yet to a flaming zeal like ours,
it only served as water on a fiery furnace, to make it blaze the fiercer.

"Why truly, Horry!" said Marion, "this looks unpromising,
but we must not mind it my hero, I'll tell you what --

if the assembly can't help us, we must e'en help ourselves!
So come let us try what we can do on our own credit."

"With all my heart," I replied.
So away went we to borrow money of our friends in Charleston;

I mean hard money. And hard money it was indeed. The gold and silver
all appeared as if it had caught the instinct of water-witches, diving at

the first flash of the war, to the bottom of misers' trunks and strong boxes.
For two whole days, and with every effort we could make, we collected

but the pitiful sum of one hundred dollars! However, fully resolved
that nothing should stop us, we got our regimentals the next morning

from the tailor's, and having crammed our saddlebags with some clean shirts,
a stout luncheon of bread and cheese, and a bottle of brandy,

we mounted, and with hearts light as young lovers on a courting scheme,
we dashed off to recruit our companies. Our course was towards Georgetown,

Black River, and Great Pedee. Fortune seemed to smile on our enterprise;
for by the time we reached Pedee, we had enlisted thirty-seven men,

proper tall fellows, to whom we gave furloughs of two days
to settle their affairs, and meet us at the house of a Mr. Bass,

tavern-keeper, with whom we lodged. I should have told the reader,
that we had with us, a very spirited young fellow by the name of Charnock,