there was but one sober man, and that was captain Neilson.

It is not for language to express one thousandth part of my
mortification and rage. To have made such an extraordinary march,

and at the head of such choice fellows too; to have come almost
within sight of the enemy; an enemy that I was eager to humble,

and which would have yielded me so complete and glorious a victory;
and yet to have lost all so shamefully: and thus like a fool

to be sent back to my general, with my finger in my mouth,
was, indeed, almost beyond endurance. But I was obliged to endure it.

For, to have led my men into action, in that condition,
would have been no better than murdering them. And to have kept them there

until they could have cooled off, was utterly out of the question.
For there was not a family in that whole district that would,

with their good will, have given us an hour's repose, or a morsel of bread.
I thereforeinstantly ordered a retreat, which was made

with all the noise and irregularity that might have been expected
from a troop of drunkards, each of whom mistaking himself

for commander in chief, gave orders according to his own mad humor;
and whooped and halloed at such a rate, that I verily believed,

no bull-drivers ever made half the racket.
That we should have obtained a most complete victory, is very certain.

For in a few days after this, we laid hands upon some of those
very same tories, who stated, that in consequence of the noise

which we made that night, colonel Tynes despatched some of his cavalry
up the road next morning, to see what was the matter.

On coming to the spot, where I had vainly endeavored to form my drunken dogs,
they found on the ground some of our plumes, which colonel Tynes no sooner saw

than he bawled out, "Marion! Marion!" then, leaping on their horses,
off they went, whip and spur.

"Well, where is colonel Tynes?" said the general, as I entered his presence.
This was the question which I had expected, and, indeed,

blushed for the answer. But after hearing my doleful story,
he replied with his usual philosophy: "Well, you did right to retreat;

but pray keep a careful eye on the apple water next time."
But to give the devil his due, I must confess there was one instance,

in which I thought some good was done by brandy. This was in
the case of captain Snipes and his command, which by way of farce

to my own tragedy, I beg leave to relate.
Hearing of a tory camp-meeting not far distant, Marion despatched

the brave captain Snipes with a party to chastise them. They had scarcely
got upon the tory cruising-ground, before, at a short turn in the road,

they came full butt upon a large body of horsemen. Supposing them
to be tories, Snipes instantly gave the word to charge;

himself leading the way with his usual impetuosity. The supposed tories,
wheeling about, took to the sands, and went off, as hard as their horses

could stave; and thus, crack and crack, they had it for about two miles.
Finding that Snipes was gaining upon them, the runagates began

to lighten themselves of every thing they could spare, and the road
was presently strewed with blankets and knapsacks. One of them, it seems,

carried a five gallon keg of brandy, which he could not think of parting with;
and being well mounted, he stood a good pull for the two first miles.

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 passing the keg: but his men coming up instantly,

broached to, all standing; for they could no more pass by a keg of brandy,
than young monkeys could pass 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, "God'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 passed it on to Macdonald,
who also twigg'd it, "and Tom twigg'd it, and Dick 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.