Marion and the author very busy in destroying the rice-makers' boats on Santee — first got the news of the defeat of our army, and death of the brave De Kalb — Marion addresses his followers — their gallant reply.

Marion and myself, as yet ignorant of the fate of the army, were on the waters of the Santee, very busily executing our boat-burning orders. Not content with destroying the common scows and flats of the ferries, we went on to sweep the river of every skiff and canoe that we could lay hands on; nay, had the harmless wonkopkins been able to ferry an Englishman over the river, we should certainly have declared war and hurled our firebrands among them.

The reader may be sure we gained no good will by our zeal in this affair; for it was a serious thing to the planters: and their wrath waxed exceedingly hot against us. Among that fleet of boats and flats that perished by our firebrands or hatchets, there were two that belonged to my excellent old uncle, colonel E. Horry. The old gentleman could hardly believe his negroes, when they told him that we were destroying his boats. However, to be satisfied of the matter, he mounted his horse, and galloped down to the river to see. We had completely done for his scow, and were just giving the finishing blows to his boat as he hove in sight; whereupon, clapping whip and spur to his horse, he came on as hard as he could drive. Soon as he was within hailing distance of an ordinary speaking trumpet, he began to bawl — "Hold! hold! for God's sake hold!"

Then dashing up, with cheeks red as fire coals, and his mouth all in a lather, he roared out, "Why, what? what? what are you about here?"

"We are only trying to kidnap the British, uncle," said I.

"Kidnap the d—-l," he replied.

Then looking around, and seeing how completely we had shivered his fine new boat and scow, he ripped out again — "Well! here is a pretty spot of work! a pretty spot of work! A brand new scow and boat, that cost me, only last spring, three hundred dollars! every farthing of it! and here now all cut to smash! ruined! not worth a chew of tobacco! why! did mortal flesh ever see the like of this? Breaking up our boats! why, how are we to harvest our rice?"

"Uncle," said I, "you had better think less of harvesting your rice, and more of catching the muskrats," meaning the British.

Here, darting at me an eye of inexpressible astonishment and rage, he exclaimed — "Why, certainly the d—-l is in the young man! catch the British? Why, have you not heard that the British are carrying every thing before them; have broke up our army; cut the regulars to pieces; scattered the militia; and chased general Gates to Jericho, and to the d—-l for what I care?"

"God forbid!" said Marion.

"Nay, that is past praying for," replied my uncle, "and if you had any interest in heaven, you ought to have made it sooner. It is too late now."

"Great God!" returned Marion; "and so our army is lost!"

"Yes," continued my uncle; "lost, as sure as a gun: and that is not all; for De Kalb is killed; Sumter surprised and cut to pieces; and Charleston illuminated every night for joy."

We could neither of us utter a word.

Presently my uncle, casting a searching eye around on our men, about thirty in number, asked where our troops were.

I told him those were all the troops we had.

I thought the good old gentleman would have gone into fits. He rolled up his eyes to heaven; smacked his hands together, and bringing them by a sudden jerk to his breast, with a shrill whistle exclaimed, "Mad! — mad! — the young fellow is as mad as a March hare — Well, I'll tell you what, nephew of mine, you may go about on the river, chopping the planters' boats at this rate, but I would not be in your coat, my lad, for your jacket, though it was stiff with gold."

I asked him what he meant by that?

"Why, I mean," replied he, "that if you are not, all of you, knocked on the head in three hours, it will be a wonder."

"Aye! what makes you think so, uncle," said I.

He answered: "You know my old waiting man, Tom, don't you?"

"To be sure I do," said I; "I have known Tom ever since I was a boy, and should be confounded sorry to hear Tom prophesy any harm of me; for I have always taken him to be a very true man of his word."

"Yes, I'll warrant him," said my uncle; "for though Tom is a negro, and as black as old Nick, yet I would as soon take Tom's word as that of any white man in Carolina. Well, Tom, you know, has a wife at Mr. ——'s, as rank a tory as we have hereabouts. On coming home this morning, he shook his head and said he was mighty 'fraid you and Col. Marion were in a bad box; for, that he got it from one of the black waiters in the house, who overheard the talk, that there are THREE companies of tories now moulding their bullets, and making ready to cut you off."

I looked at Marion and saw battle in his face.

My uncle was about to invite us to the house; but Marion interrupted him by saying, "This is no time to think of visiting;" and turning to his trumpeter, ordered him to wind his horn, which was instantly done. Then placing himself at our head, he dashed off at a charging lope; with equal speed we followed and soon lost sight of my uncle Horry.

On reaching the woods, Marion ordered the troop to halt and form; when, with his usual modesty, he thus addressed us:

"Well, gentlemen, you see our situation! widely different from what it once was. Yes, once we were a happy people! Liberty shone upon our land, bright as the sun that gilds yon fields; while we and our fathers rejoiced in its lovely beams, gay as the birds that enliven our forests. But, alas! those golden days are gone, and the cloud of war now hangs dark and lowering over our heads. Our once peaceful land is now filled with uproar and death. Foreign ruffians, braving us up to our very firesides and altars, leave us no alternative but slavery or death. Two gallant armies have been marched to our assistance; but, for lack of competent commanders, both have been lost. That under general Lincoln, after having been duped and butchered at Savannah, was at last completely trapped at Charleston. And that under general Gates, after having been imprudently overmarched, is now cut up at Camden. Thus are all our hopes from the north entirely at an end; and poor Carolina is left to shift for herself. A sad shift indeed, when not one in a thousand of her own children will rise to take her part; but, on the contrary, are madly taking part with the enemy against her. And now, my countrymen, I want to know your minds. As to my own, that has long been made up. I consider my life as but a moment. But I also consider, that to fill that moment with duty, is my all. To guard my innocent country against the evils of slavery, seems now my greatest duty; and, therefore, I am determined, that while I live, she shall never be enslaved. She may come to that wretched state for what I know, but MY eyes shall never behold it. Never shall she clank her chains in my ears, and pointing to the ignominious badge, exclaim, "IT WAS YOUR COWARDICE THAT BROUGHT ME TO THIS."

In answer to this, we unanimously assured him, that those sentiments and resolutions were exactly our own: and that we were steadfastly determined to die with him, or conquer for our country.

"Well then, my brave friends," said he, "draw your swords! Now for a circle, emblematical of our eternal union! and pointing your blades to heaven, the bright throne of Him who made us free, swear you will never be slaves of Britain."

Which was all most devoutly done.

Soon as this patriotic rite was performed, we all dismounted, and taking our seats on the trunks of two fallen pines that lay conveniently parallel, we made our simple dinner of cold roots; and for our beverage drank of the lucid stream that softly murmured by.

The reader will please to keep in mind, that our troops consisted of but thirty mounted militia; chiefly gentlemen volunteers, armed with muskets and swords, but almost without powder and ball. How Marion came to be at the head of this little party, it may be amusing to the reader to hear.

Some short time before this date, 1779-80, when the war began to rage in South Carolina, a British captain by the name of Ardeisoff came up to Georgetown in an armed vessel, and filled the country with printed proclamations from lord Cornwallis, calling on the GOOD PEOPLE of South Carolina to submit and take royal protections!! Numbers of the ignorant and pusillanimous sort closed with the offer. But the nobler ones of the district, (Williamsburgh,) having no notion of selling their liberties for a `pig in a poke', called a caucus of their own, from whom they selected captain John James, and sent him down to master captain Ardeisoff, to know what he would be at. This captain James, by birth an Irishman, had rendered himself so popular in the district, that he was made a militia captain under the royal government. But in '75, soon as he found that the ministry were determined to tax the Americans, without allowing them the common British right of representation, he bravely threw up his commission, declaring that he would never serve a TYRANT. Such was the gentleman chosen by the aforesaid liberty caucus, to go on the embassy before mentioned. In the garb of a plain planter, James presented himself before the haughty captain Ardeisoff, and politely asked "on what terms himself and friends must submit?"

"What terms, sir!" replied the angry Briton, "what terms! why, no other terms, you may be sure, than unconditional submission."

"Well but sir," answered James, very calmly, "are we not to be allowed to stay at home in peace and quiet?"

"In peace and quiet, indeed!" replied Ardeisoff, with a sarcastic grin; "a pretty story, truly! Stay at home in peace and quiet, heh? No, no, sir, you have all rebelled against your king; and if treated as you deserve, would now be dancing like dogs at the arms of the gallows. But his majesty is merciful, sir; and now that he has graciously pardoned you, he expects you will immediately take up arms and turn out in support of his cause."

"You are very candid, sir," said James; "and now I hope you will not be displeased with me for being equally plain. Permit me, then, sir, to tell you that such terms will never go down with the gentlemen whom I have the honor to represent."

"The gentlemen you have the honor to represent, you d—n-d rebel!"

Vesuvius! Aetna! and Strumbolo! what are your fires and flames, compared with those that raged in the bosom of James, when he heard himself called a d—n-d rebel!

Instantly springing up, with eyes of lightning, he snatched up his chair, and, regardless of consequences, laid the audacious Ardeisoff sprawling on the floor; then flying to his horse, he mounted and made his escape. Learning from him, at his return, what they had to understand by `British protections', his gallant constituents came at once to the resolution to arm and fight till death, rather than hold life on such ignominious terms. Immediately the whole force of the district, about two hundred, able to bear arms, were mustered and placed under captains William M`Coltery, John M`Cawley, Henry Mowizon, and our brave captain James, who was appointed major and captain general of the whole. Feeling that distrust in themselves which is common with raw troops, and learning that the northern army was just entering South Carolina, they despatched a messenger to general Gates, to request that he would send them an officer who had seen service. Governor Rutledge, who happened at that time to be in camp, advised general Gates by all means to send Marion. Marion was accordingly sent; but with orders, as we have seen, to destroy, on his route, all the boats on the Santee river, lest lord Cornwallis should make his escape. At the time of leaving general Gates, Marion had but ten men with him; but on reaching Santee, we were joined by major John James, with about twenty gallant gentlemen volunteers, making his whole force about thirty.

A slender force, to be sure, to oppose to the tremendous powers which Marion had to encounter! But, "the Lord is king, the victory is his!" and when he pleases to give it to an oppressed people, he can make the few and feeble overcome the many and mighty.

As the brave major James may perhaps be mentioned no more in this history, I must gratify the reader by informing him, that the noble major lost nothing by his attachment to duty and the rights of man. He lived to see Cornwallis, Tarleton, and Rawdon, laid as low as the insolent Ardeisoff; and after enjoying many years of sweet repose, under the pleasant shade of peace and plenty, he sunk gently to rest. But though now fallen asleep, he still lives in his country's gratitude, and in the virtues of his son, who fills one of the highest places in the judiciary of his native state.