The Life of General Francis Marion [43]
I could not help feeling very sensibly for him, especially when we saw his little white-headed children, in melancholy groups, peeping at us around the corners of the house.
His young corn, which seemed to cover about fifty acres, was just in the prime, roasting ear state, and he had also a couple of beautiful orchards of peach and apple trees, loaded with young fruit. Scarcely were our tents pitched, before the whole army, foot and horse, turned in to destroy. The trees were all threshed in a trice; after which the soldiers fell, like a herd of wild boars, upon the roasting ears, and the horses upon the blades and stalks, so that by morning light there was no sign or symptom left that corn had ever grown there since the creation of the world. What became of the poor man and his children God only knows, for by sunrise we were all under marching orders again, bending for the south. I said ALL, but I only meant all that were ABLE. For numbers were knocked up every night by agues, fluxes, and other maladies, brought on by excessive fatigue and lack of food.
I once before observed how highly the baron de Kalb had been pleased to think of Marion and myself travelling so far to meet him. His liking for us grew so fast, that we had not been with him more than two days, before he appointed us his supernumerary aids. We were, of course, much in his company, and entrusted, I believe, with every thought of his bosom that related to the good of the army. He made no scruple to tell us how utterly unmilitary those proceedings were; and frequently foretold the ruin that would ensue.
"Here," said he, "we are hurrying to attack an enemy, who, if they but knew our condition, would long for nothing so much as our arrival. We, two-thirds at least, raw militia; they, all regulars. We, fatigued; they, fresh. We, feeble and faint through long fasting; they, from high keeping, as strong and fierce as game cocks or butchers' bull dogs. It does not signify, gentlemen; it is all over with us; our army is lost as sure as ever it comes into contact with the British. I have hinted these things more than once to general Gates, but he is an officer who will take no counsel but his own."
The truth is, general Gates was one of that crazy-brained quality, to whom it is a misfortune to be fortunate. The least dram of success would intoxicate and make him fool hardy. He could never bring himself to believe, as he used to say, that "lord Cornwallis would dare to look him in the face."
So confident, indeed, was he of victory, that on the morning before the fatal action, he ordered Marion and myself to hasten on to Santee river, and destroy every scow, boat or canoe, that could assist an Englishman in his flight to Charleston!
Immediately on receiving orders, we waited on the good old De Kalb to take leave; and also to assure him of our deep regret at parting with him.
"It is with equal regret, my dear sirs," said he, "that I part with you, because I feel a presentiment that we part to meet no more."
We told him we hoped better things.
"Oh no!" replied he, "it is impossible. War is a kind of game, and has its fixed rules, whereby, when we are well acquainted with them, we can pretty correctly tell how the trial will go. To-morrow, it seems, the die is to be cast, and in my judgment, without the least chance on our side. The militia will, I suppose, as usual, play the back-game, that is, get out of the scrape as fast as their legs can carry them. But that, you know, won't do for me. I am an old soldier, and cannot run: and I believe I have with me some brave fellows that will stand by me to the last. So that, when you hear of our battle, you will probably hear that your old friend De Kalb is at rest."
I do not know that I was ever more affected in my life. I looked at Marion and saw that his eyes were watery. De Kalb saw it too, and taking us by the hand, with a firm tone, and animated look, said, "No! no! gentlemen; no emotions for me but those of congratulation. I am happy. To die is the irreversible decree of him
His young corn, which seemed to cover about fifty acres, was just in the prime, roasting ear state, and he had also a couple of beautiful orchards of peach and apple trees, loaded with young fruit. Scarcely were our tents pitched, before the whole army, foot and horse, turned in to destroy. The trees were all threshed in a trice; after which the soldiers fell, like a herd of wild boars, upon the roasting ears, and the horses upon the blades and stalks, so that by morning light there was no sign or symptom left that corn had ever grown there since the creation of the world. What became of the poor man and his children God only knows, for by sunrise we were all under marching orders again, bending for the south. I said ALL, but I only meant all that were ABLE. For numbers were knocked up every night by agues, fluxes, and other maladies, brought on by excessive fatigue and lack of food.
I once before observed how highly the baron de Kalb had been pleased to think of Marion and myself travelling so far to meet him. His liking for us grew so fast, that we had not been with him more than two days, before he appointed us his supernumerary aids. We were, of course, much in his company, and entrusted, I believe, with every thought of his bosom that related to the good of the army. He made no scruple to tell us how utterly unmilitary those proceedings were; and frequently foretold the ruin that would ensue.
"Here," said he, "we are hurrying to attack an enemy, who, if they but knew our condition, would long for nothing so much as our arrival. We, two-thirds at least, raw militia; they, all regulars. We, fatigued; they, fresh. We, feeble and faint through long fasting; they, from high keeping, as strong and fierce as game cocks or butchers' bull dogs. It does not signify, gentlemen; it is all over with us; our army is lost as sure as ever it comes into contact with the British. I have hinted these things more than once to general Gates, but he is an officer who will take no counsel but his own."
The truth is, general Gates was one of that crazy-brained quality, to whom it is a misfortune to be fortunate. The least dram of success would intoxicate and make him fool hardy. He could never bring himself to believe, as he used to say, that "lord Cornwallis would dare to look him in the face."
So confident, indeed, was he of victory, that on the morning before the fatal action, he ordered Marion and myself to hasten on to Santee river, and destroy every scow, boat or canoe, that could assist an Englishman in his flight to Charleston!
Immediately on receiving orders, we waited on the good old De Kalb to take leave; and also to assure him of our deep regret at parting with him.
"It is with equal regret, my dear sirs," said he, "that I part with you, because I feel a presentiment that we part to meet no more."
We told him we hoped better things.
"Oh no!" replied he, "it is impossible. War is a kind of game, and has its fixed rules, whereby, when we are well acquainted with them, we can pretty correctly tell how the trial will go. To-morrow, it seems, the die is to be cast, and in my judgment, without the least chance on our side. The militia will, I suppose, as usual, play the back-game, that is, get out of the scrape as fast as their legs can carry them. But that, you know, won't do for me. I am an old soldier, and cannot run: and I believe I have with me some brave fellows that will stand by me to the last. So that, when you hear of our battle, you will probably hear that your old friend De Kalb is at rest."
I do not know that I was ever more affected in my life. I looked at Marion and saw that his eyes were watery. De Kalb saw it too, and taking us by the hand, with a firm tone, and animated look, said, "No! no! gentlemen; no emotions for me but those of congratulation. I am happy. To die is the irreversible decree of him