第58章 Chapter (3)

A swamp, right or left, or in his rear; a thicket beside him; --any spot in which time could be gained, and an inexperienced militia rallied, long enough to become reconciled to the unaccustomed sights and sounds of war, -- were all that he required, in order to secure a fit position for fighting in. He found no difficulty in making good soldiers of them.

It caused him no surprise, and we may add no great concern, that his raw militia men, armed with rifle and ducking gun, should retire before the pushing bayonets of a regular soldiery.

He considered it mere butchery to expose them to this trial.

But he taught his men to retire slowly, to take post behind the first tree or thicket, reload, and try the effect of a second fire;and so on, of a third and fourth, retiring still, but never forgetting to take advantage of every shelter that offered itself. He expected them to fly, but not too far to be useful. We shall see the effect of this training at Eutaw, where the militia in the advance delivered seventeen fires, before they yielded to the press of the enemy. But, says Johnson, with equal truth and terseness, "that distrust of their own immediate commanders which militia are too apt to be affected with, never produced an emotion where Marion and Pickens commanded."*The history of American warfare shows conclusively that, under the right leaders, the American militia are as cool in moments of danger as the best drilled soldiery in the universe. But they have been a thousand times disgraced by imbecile and vainglorious pretenders.

* History of Greene, p. 225, vol. 2.

Marion was admirably supported by his followers. Several officers of the brigade were distinguished men. Of Major John James we have already seen something. All the brothers were men of courage and great muscular activity. The Witherspoons were similarly endowed. His chief counsellors were the brothers Horry, and Postelle, -- all like himself descended from Huguenot stocks.

To the two last (the brothers Postelle) it has been remarked, that "nothing appeared difficult."* Captains Baxter and Conyers were particularly distinguished, -- the first for his gigantic frame, which was informed by a corresponding courage; the latter by his equal bravery and horsemanship. He was a sort of knight-errant in the brigade, and his behavior seemed not unfrequently dictated by a passion for chivalrous display. An anecdote, in connection with Conyers, is told, which will serve to show what was the spirit of the patriotic damsels of the revolution. Marion had environed Colonel Watson, at a plantation where Mary, the second daughter of John Witherspoon, was living at the time. She was betrothed to Conyers.

The gallant captain daily challenged the British posts, skirmishing in the sight of his mistress. His daring was apparent enough --his great skill and courage were known. He presented himself frequently before the lines of the enemy, either as a single champion or at the head of his troop. The pride of the maiden's heart may be imagined when she heard the warning in the camp, as she frequently did --"Take care, -- there is Conyers!" The insult was unresented: but, one day, when her lover appeared as usual, a British officer, approaching her, spoke sneeringly, or disrespectfully, of our knight-errant.

The high spirited girl drew the shoe from her foot, and flinging it in his face, exclaimed, "Coward! go and meet him!" The chronicler from whom we derive this anecdote is particularly careful to tell us that it was a walking shoe and not a kid slipper which she made use of;by which we are to understand, that she was no ways tender of the stroke.

* Judge James' Sketch of Marion.

The Horrys were both able officers. Hugh was a particular favorite of Marion.

For his brother he had large esteem. Of Peter Horry we have several amusing anecdotes, some of which we gather from himself.

It is upon the authority of his MS. memoir that we depend for several matters of interest in this volume. This memoir, written in the old age of the author, and while he suffered from infirmities of age and health, is a crude but not uninteresting narrative of events in his own life, and of the war. The colonel confesses himself very frankly.

In his youth he had a great passion for the sex, which led him into frequent difficulties. These, though never very serious, he most seriously relates. He was brave, and ambitious of distinction.

This ambition led him to desire a command of cavalry rather than of infantry.

But he was no rider -- was several times unhorsed in combat, and was indebted to the fidelity of his soldiers for his safety.*On one occasion his escape was more narrow from a different cause.

He gives us a ludicrous account of it himself. Crossing the swamp at Lynch's Creek, to join Marion, in the dark, and the swamp swimming, he encountered the bough of a tree, to which he clung, while his horse passed from under him. He was no swimmer, and, but for timely assistance from his followers, would have been drowned. Another story, which places him in a scarcely less ludicrous attitude, is told by Garden.** He was ordered by Marion to wait, in ambush, the approach of a British detachment. The duty was executed with skill;the enemy was completely in his power. But he labored under an impediment in his speech, which, we may readily suppose, was greatly increased by anxiety and excitement. The word "fire" stuck in his throat, as "amen" did in that of Macbeth. The emergency was pressing, but this only increased the difficulty. In vain did he make the attempt.

He could say "fi-fi-fi!" but he could get no further --the "r" was incorrigible. At length, irritated almost to madness, he exclaimed, "SHOOT, d----n you, SHOOT! you know what I would say!

Shoot, and be d----d to you!" He was present, and acted bravely, in almost every affair of consequence, in the brigade of Marion.