History of captain Snipes — wanton destruction of his property by the tories — his own miraculous escape — admirable fidelity of his negro driver Cudjo.

Captain Snipes, who made such a figure in the wars of Marion, was a Carolinian, of uncommon strength and courage; both of which he exerted with great good will, against the British and tories; from principle partly, and partly from revenge. But though a choice soldier, he was no philosopher. He did not consider that to fight for duty, people must love it; that to love it, they must understand it; that to understand it, they must possess letters and religion: that the British and tories, poor fellows! possessing neither of these, were not to have been expected to act any other than the savage and thievish part they did act; and therefore, no more to be hated for it than the cats are for teasing the canary birds.

But captain Snipes had no turn for investigations of this sort. Knowledge, by intuition, was all that he cared for; and having it, by instinct, that an "Englishman ought never to fight against liberty," nor an "American against his own country," he looked on them, to use his own phrase, as a "pack of d—n-d rascals, whom it was doing God service to kill wherever he could find them."

But Snipes was not the aggressor. He kept in, very decently, till the enemy began to let out, as they did, in plundering, burning, and hanging the poor whigs; and then, indeed, like a consuming fire, his smothered hate broke forth:

"That hate which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign
The souls of royal slaves untimely slain."

Afraid, in fair fight, to meet that sword which had so often shivered their friends, they determined to take him as the Philistines did Samson, by surprise; and having learned from their spies, that he was at home, they came upon him in force about midnight. His complete destruction, both of life and property, was their horrid aim. Happily, his driver, or black overseer, overheard their approach; and flying to his master with terror-struck looks, cries out "Run! run! massa, run! de enemy 'pon you."

Snipes, stark naked, save his shirt, darted out as swift as his legs could carry him.

"But where shall I run, Cudjo? into the barn?"

"Oh no, massa! dey burn de barn, dat sure ting!"

"Well, where shall I run then?"

"Take de bush massa! take de briar bush."

Within fifty yards of the house was a clump of briers, so thick set, that one would have thought a frightened cat would scarcely have squeezed herself into it from the hot pursuing dogs. But what will not fear enable a man to do? Captain Snipes, big as he was, slipped into it with the facility of a weasel through the chinks of a chicken-coop; but lost every thread and thrumb of his shirt; and moreover, got his hide so scratched and torn by the briers, that the blood trickled from him fast as gravy from a fat green goose.

Scarcely had he gained his hiding-place, before the tories, with horrid oaths, burst into his house, with their guns cocked, ready to shoot him. But oh! death to their hopes! he was gone: the nest was there, and warm, but the bird was flown!

Then seizing poor Cudjo by the throat, they bawled out: "You d——d rascal, where's your master?"

He told them he did not know.

"You lie! you black son of a b-t-h! you lie."

But he still asserted he knew nothing of his master.

Suspecting that he must be in some one or other of his buildings, they set fire to them all; to his dwelling house, his kitchen, his stables, and even his negro cabins, watching all the while, with their muskets ready to shoot him as he ran out. From their nearness to his lurking place, the heat of his burning houses was so intense as to parch his skin into blisters. But it was death to stir, for he would certainly have been seen.

Not having made the discovery they so much wished, they again seized Cudjo; and, with their cocked pieces at his breast, swore if he did not instantly tell them where his master was, they would put him to death.

He still declared he did not know where he was.

Then they clapped a halter round his neck, and told him to "down on his knees, and say his prayers at once, for he had but two minutes to live!"

He replied, that he "did not want to say his prayers NOW, for that he was no thief, and had always been a true slave to his master."

This fine sentiment of the poor black was entirely lost on our malignant whites; who, throwing the end of the halter over the limb of an oak, tucked him up as though he had been a mad dog. He hung till he was nearly dead; when one of them called out, "D—n him, cut him down, I'll be bound he'll tell us now." Cudjo was accordingly cut down; and, as soon as a little recovered, questioned again about his master. But he still declared he knew nothing of him. He was then hoisted a second time; and a second time, when nearly dead, cut down and questioned as before: but still asserted his ignorance. The same inhuman part was acted on him a third time, but with no better success; for the brave fellow still continued faithful to his master, who squatted and trembled in his place of torment, his brier bush, and saw and heard all that was passing.

Persuaded now that Cudjo really knew nothing of his master, they gave up the shameful contest, and went off, leaving him half dead on the ground, but covered with glory.

It is not easy to conceive a situation more severely torturing than this of captain Snipes. His house, with all his furniture, his kitchen, his barn and rice-stacks, his stables, with several fine horses, and his negro houses, all wrapped in flames; himself scorched and blistered with the furious heat, yet not daring to stir; his retreat well known to a poor slave; and that slave alone, in the hands of an enraged banditti, with their muskets at his breast, imprecating the most horrid curses on themselves, if they did not instantly murder him unless he disclosed the secret! What had he to expect of this poor slave, but that he would sink under the dreadful trial, and to save himself would sacrifice his master. But Snipes was safe. To discover his hiding-place, death stared his slave in the face, but, happily, his slave possessed for him that "love which is stronger than death."

Captain Snipes and his man Cudjo had been brought up from childhood together; and the father of our hero being a professor of Christianity, a Baptist preacher, whose main excellence is "to teach little children to love one another," had taken great pains to inspire his son with love towards his little slave. Nor did that love pass unrequited. For Cudjo used every day to follow his young master to school, carrying his basket for him, prattling as he went; and smiling, would remind him of the coming Saturday, and what fine fishing and hunting they would have that day. Many a time had they wrestled, and slept side by side on the green; and thence springing up again with renovated strength, set out in full march for some favorite fruit tree, or some cooling pond, there to swim and gambol in the refreshing flood. And when the time of dinner came, Cudjo was not scornfully left to sigh and to gnaw his nails alone, but would play and sing about the door till his young master was done, and then he was sure to receive a good plate full for himself. LOVE, thus early ingrafted on his heart, grew up with daily increasing strength to manhood; when Snipes, by the death of his father, became master of the estate, made Cudjo his driver or overseer, and thus rivetted on his honest bosom that sacred friendship which, as we have seen, enabled him to triumph in one of the severest trials that human nature was ever put to.

The above is a solemn fact, and the wise will lay it to heart.