The Life of General Francis Marion [27]
It was remarkably so in the present case: for colonel Maitland, of the Highlanders, who had contributed a large part to this very unexpected victory, was so elated by it, that he took to hard drinking, and killed himself in a single week, and the sickly season coming on, the greater part of the garrison perished of the yellow or bilious fever!!
Thus friends and foes the same sad fortune shar'd, And sickness swallowed whom the sword had spar'd.
Many gallant men were the victims of count D'Estang's folly in this affair; among the number was that impetuous Polander, the count Polaski.
But none fell more universally lamented than the heroic Jasper. Every reader must wish to hear the last of this brave and generous soldier. And they shall have it faithfully, for I happened to be close by him when he received his death's wound; and I was with him when he breathed his last.
Early in the action, the elegant colors presented by Mrs. Elliot, had been planted on the enemy's works; and the fury of the battle raged near the spot where they waved. During the whole of the bloody fray, Jasper had remained unhurt. But on hearing the retreat sounded, he rushed up to bear off his colors, and in that desperate act, was mortally wounded. As he passed by me, with the colors in his hands, I observed he had a bad limp in his walk.
"You are not much hurt, I hope, Jasper," said I.
"Yes, major," he replied, "I believe I have got my furlough."
"Pshaw," quoth I, "furlough indeed, for what?"
"Why to go home," he answered, "to go to Heaven, I hope."
"Pooh!" said I, and having, as the reader must suppose, a good deal to attend to, I turned off and left him. However, his words made such an impression on me, that soon as duty permitted, I went to see him, and found too true what he had predicted; the ball had opened a blood vessel in the lungs which no art could stop, and he was bleeding to slow but certain death.
As I entered the tent, he lifted his eyes to me, but their fire was almost quenched; and stretching his feeble hand, he said, with perfect tranquillity, "Well, major, I told you I had got my furlough."
"I hope not," I replied.
"O yes!" said he, "I am going -- and very fast too; but, thank God, I am not afraid to go."
I told him I knew he was too brave to fear death, and too honest to be alarmed about its consequences.
"Why, as to that matter, sir," said he, "I won't brag: but I have my hopes, notwithstanding I may be wrong, for I know I am but a poor ignorant body, but somehow or other, I have always built my hopes of what God may do for me hereafter, on what he has done for me here!"
I told him I thought he was very correct in that.
"Do you, indeed?" said he. "Well, I am mighty glad of that -- and now major, here's the way I always comfort myself: Fifty years ago, (I say to myself,) I was nothing, and had no thought that there was any such grand and beautiful world as this. But still there was such a world notwithstanding; and here God has brought me into it. Now, can't he, in fifty years more, or indeed in fifty minutes more, bring me into another world, as much above this as this is above that state of nothing, wherein I was fifty years ago?"
I told him that this was, to my mind, a very happy way of reasoning; and such, no doubt, as suited the greatness and goodness of God.
"I think so, major," said he, "and I trust I shall find it so; for though I've been a man of blood, yet, thank God, I've always lived with an eye to that great hope. My mother, major, was a good woman; when I was but a child, and sat on her lap, she used to talk to me of God, and tell how it was he who built this great world, with all its riches and good things: and not for himself, but for ME! and also, that if I would but do his will in that only acceptable way, a good life, he would do still greater and better things for me hereafter.
"Well, major, from the mouth of a dear mother, like her, these things went so deep into my heart, that they could never be taken away from me. I have hardly ever
Thus friends and foes the same sad fortune shar'd, And sickness swallowed whom the sword had spar'd.
Many gallant men were the victims of count D'Estang's folly in this affair; among the number was that impetuous Polander, the count Polaski.
But none fell more universally lamented than the heroic Jasper. Every reader must wish to hear the last of this brave and generous soldier. And they shall have it faithfully, for I happened to be close by him when he received his death's wound; and I was with him when he breathed his last.
Early in the action, the elegant colors presented by Mrs. Elliot, had been planted on the enemy's works; and the fury of the battle raged near the spot where they waved. During the whole of the bloody fray, Jasper had remained unhurt. But on hearing the retreat sounded, he rushed up to bear off his colors, and in that desperate act, was mortally wounded. As he passed by me, with the colors in his hands, I observed he had a bad limp in his walk.
"You are not much hurt, I hope, Jasper," said I.
"Yes, major," he replied, "I believe I have got my furlough."
"Pshaw," quoth I, "furlough indeed, for what?"
"Why to go home," he answered, "to go to Heaven, I hope."
"Pooh!" said I, and having, as the reader must suppose, a good deal to attend to, I turned off and left him. However, his words made such an impression on me, that soon as duty permitted, I went to see him, and found too true what he had predicted; the ball had opened a blood vessel in the lungs which no art could stop, and he was bleeding to slow but certain death.
As I entered the tent, he lifted his eyes to me, but their fire was almost quenched; and stretching his feeble hand, he said, with perfect tranquillity, "Well, major, I told you I had got my furlough."
"I hope not," I replied.
"O yes!" said he, "I am going -- and very fast too; but, thank God, I am not afraid to go."
I told him I knew he was too brave to fear death, and too honest to be alarmed about its consequences.
"Why, as to that matter, sir," said he, "I won't brag: but I have my hopes, notwithstanding I may be wrong, for I know I am but a poor ignorant body, but somehow or other, I have always built my hopes of what God may do for me hereafter, on what he has done for me here!"
I told him I thought he was very correct in that.
"Do you, indeed?" said he. "Well, I am mighty glad of that -- and now major, here's the way I always comfort myself: Fifty years ago, (I say to myself,) I was nothing, and had no thought that there was any such grand and beautiful world as this. But still there was such a world notwithstanding; and here God has brought me into it. Now, can't he, in fifty years more, or indeed in fifty minutes more, bring me into another world, as much above this as this is above that state of nothing, wherein I was fifty years ago?"
I told him that this was, to my mind, a very happy way of reasoning; and such, no doubt, as suited the greatness and goodness of God.
"I think so, major," said he, "and I trust I shall find it so; for though I've been a man of blood, yet, thank God, I've always lived with an eye to that great hope. My mother, major, was a good woman; when I was but a child, and sat on her lap, she used to talk to me of God, and tell how it was he who built this great world, with all its riches and good things: and not for himself, but for ME! and also, that if I would but do his will in that only acceptable way, a good life, he would do still greater and better things for me hereafter.
"Well, major, from the mouth of a dear mother, like her, these things went so deep into my heart, that they could never be taken away from me. I have hardly ever