The Life of General Francis Marion [86]
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 extreme fright, on being waked by the firing and horrid uproar 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
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 extreme fright, on being waked by the firing and horrid uproar 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