which I took from the saddle when my horse left me, anticipated his kindness,
by driving a bullet through his shoulder, which brought him to the ground.

Then mounting his horse, while my men caught the horses of those
that were killed, we galloped off, very well satisfied that the affair

had turned out no worse.
On returning to Marion, I could not help complaining to him of my men,

whose behavior, I said, in this last affair, had been so very dastardly,
that I was much afraid, I should never again put confidence in them,

nor gain any credit by commanding them. "Pshaw!" said he, with a smile,
"it is because you do not understand the management of them:

you command militia; it will not do to expect too much from
that sort of soldiers. If on turning out against the enemy, you find your men

in high spirits, with burning eyes all kindling around you, that's your time,
then in close columns, with sounding bugles and shining swords, dash on,

and I'll warrant your men will follow you, eager as the lion's whelps
bounding with their sire to the chase of the buffaloes.

But on the other hand, if by any un-looked-for providence they get dismayed,
and begin to run, you are not to fly in a passion with them,

and show yourself as mad as they are cowardly. No! you must learn to run too:
and as fast as they; nay FASTER, that you may get into the front

and encourage them to rally.
"And as to the credit that you are to get by commanding them,

I find, my dear fellow, that you are entirely in the wrong there also.
Our country cannot expect us to cope with British regulars. War is an art,

the deepest of all arts, because the greatest of all earthly consequences
depend on it. And none can expect to be masters of that terrible art,

but such as serve a long apprenticeship to it. But as we have served
no apprenticeship, we can know but little about it in comparison

with our enemies, who in discipline and experience have greatly
the advantage of us. But, thank God, we have our advantages too. --

We are far better riders, better woodsmen, and better marksmen than they.
These are noble advantages. Let us but improve them by redoubled

activity and vigilance, and kindness to our men, and especially by often
conversing with them on the grounds of the war, the merits of our cause,

and the vast consequences depending. Let us, I say, in this way,
make them soldiers in principle, and fond of their officers,

and all will be well yet. By cutting off the enemy's foraging parties,
drawing them into ambuscades and falling upon them by surprise,

we shall, I hope, so harass and consume them, as to make them glad
to get out of our country. And then, the performance of such a noble act

will bring us credit, and credit enough too, in the eyes of good men;
while as to ourselves, the remembrance of having done so much

to vindicate the rights of man, and make posterity the happier for us,
will afford us a pleasure that may outlive this momentary being."

Chapter 25.
Colonel Harry Lee joins general Marion -- Georgetown surprised --

colonel Campbell made prisoner -- major Irwin killed --
adjutant Crookshanks miraculously saved by his sweetheart --

force of femaleaffection -- American generosity contrasted with
British barbarism -- interesting anecdotes of Mr. Cusac,

young Gales and Dinkins, colonel Lee's little bugler, John Wiley,
Peter Yarnal, young M'Coy, major Brown, colonel Haynes, and lord Rawdon.

The next day, colonel Lee with his legion came up, to the inexpressible joy
of us all; partly on account of his cavalry, which to be sure,

was the handsomest we had ever seen; but much more on account of himself,
of whom we had heard that, in deep art and undaunted courage,

he was a second Marion. -- This, our high opinion of him, was greatly exalted
by his own gallant conduct, for he had been with us but a few days

before he proposed the surprise of Georgetown, which was very cordially
concurred with by general Marion.

The infantry and cavalry employed on the occasion, were to approach the town
at different points, after midnight, and at a signal from the latter,

to commence the attack. Unfortunately, the cavalry did not get up in time,
owing to some fault of their guide. The infantry arrived

at the appointed moment, and dreading the dangers of delay, charged at once
into the town, which they found utterly unprepared for an attack.

Colonel Campbell, the commander, was made prisoner in his bed;
adjutant Crookshanks, major Irwin, and other officers were sound asleep

at a tavern belonging to a genteel family, with whom
they had spent the evening with great hilarity. A detachment of our men

approached the house and surrounded it. Soon as the alarm was given,
the officers leaped out of bed, and not waiting to dress,

flew into the piazza, flourishing their pistols and shouting to the charge.
Major Irwin, with more courage than discretion, fired a pistol, and would have

tried another, but just as he had cocked it, he was stopped short
by the stroke of a bayonet, which ended him and his courage together.

Adjutant Crookshanks, acting in the same heroic style, would have shared
the same fate, had it not been for an angel of a young woman,

daughter of the gentleman of the house. This charming girl was engaged
to be married to Crookshanks. Waked by the firing and horrid din of battle

in the piazza, she was at first almost 'reft of her senses by the fright.
But the moment she heard her lover's voice, all her terrors vanished,

and instead of hiding herself under the bedclothes, she rushed into the piazza
amidst the mortal fray, with no armor but her love, no covering

but her flowing tresses. Happily for her lover, she got to him
just in time to throw her arms around his neck and scream out,

"Oh save! save major Crookshanks!" Thus, with her own sweet body
shielding him against the uplifted swords of her enraged countrymen!

Crookshanks yielded himself our prisoner; but we paroled him on the spot,
and left him to those delicious sentiments which he must have felt

in the arms of an elegant young woman, who had saved his life
by an effort of love sufficient to endear her to him to all eternity.

It was told us afterwards of this charming girl, that as soon as we were gone,
and, of course, the danger past and the tumult of her bosom subsided,

she fell into a swoon, from which it was with difficulty
that she was recovered. Her extremefright, on being waked

by the firing and horriduproar of battle in the house,
and her strong sympathy in her lover's danger, together with the alarm

occasioned by finding herself in his arms, were too much
for her delicate frame.

There is a beauty in generous actions which charms the souls of men!
and a sweetness, which like that immortal love whence it flows, can never die.

The eyes of all, even the poorest soldiers in our camp, sparkled with pleasure
whenever they talked, as they often did, of this charming woman,

and of our generosity to major Crookshanks; and to this day,
even after a lapse of thirty years, I never think of it but with pleasure;

a pleasure as exquisite, perhaps, as what I felt at the first moment
of that transaction.

And it is a matter of great satisfaction to me, to think how nobly different
in this respect was our conduct from that of the British.

I speak not of the British nation, which I hold most magnanimous;
but of their officers in Carolina, such as Cornwallis, Rawdon, Tarleton,

Weymies, Brown, and Balfour, who instead of treating their prisoners
as we did Crookshanks, have often been known to butcher them in cold blood;

though their fathers, mothers and children, on bended knees,
with wringing hands and streaming eyes, have been imploring pity for them.

There was Mr. Adam Cusac, of Williamsburg district; this brave man,
"This buckskin Hampden; that, with dauntless breast,

The base invaders of his rights withstood,"
was surprised in his own house by major Weymies, who tore him away

from his shrieking wife and children, marched him up to Cheraw court-house,
and after exposing him to the insults of a sham trial,

had him condemned and hung! The only charge ever exhibited against him was,
that he had shot across Black river at one of Weymies' tory captains.

There was that gallant lad of liberty, Kit Gales, with his brave companion,
Sam Dinkins: these two heroic youths were dogged to the house

of a whig friend, near the hills of Santee, where they were surprised
in their beds by a party of tories, who hurried them away to lord Rawdon,

then on his march from Charleston to Camden. Rawdon quickly had them,
according to his favorite phrase, "knocked into irons",

and marched on under guard with his troops. On halting for breakfast,
young Gales was tucked up to a tree, and choked with as little ceremony

as if he had been a mad dog. He and young Dinkins had, it seems,
the day before, with their horses and rifles, ventured alone,

so near the British army, as to fire several shots at them!
For such heroicdaring in defence of their country, in place of receiving