Marion's method of managing the militia — sends the author on another expedition against the tories — anecdote of Mr. F. Kinloch — curious dream of black Jonathan, and fortunate escape of Mr. Kinloch — the author's party surprised by the British, but come off with flying colors.

The world, perhaps, never contained a partisan officer who better understood the management of militia than did general Marion. He was never for `dragooning' a man into the service. "God loves a cheerful giver, and so do I," said he, "a willing soldier. To have him such you must convince him that it is his interest, for interest is every man's pole star. Every man wishes to be happy, and thereto wishes a happy wife and children, a happy country and friends. Convince him that all these invaluable blessings cannot be had without sweet liberty, and you shall have a soldier as brave as Washington. — For no man, worthy of the name, could ever yet bear to see his wife, children and friends, enslaved and miserable." Such was Marion's method of making soldiers. And what with this, and the cruelty of the British and tories, he had with him, perhaps, some of as brave and desperate men as ever fought.

"Never ride a free horse to death," he used to say to his officers; "push, while he is fresh, but soon as he begins to lag, then lie by and feed high is your play."

For this purpose he always kept a snug hiding-place in reserve for us; which was Snow's Island, a most romantic spot, and admirably fitted to our use. Nature had guarded it, nearly all around, with deep waters and inaccessible marshes; and the neighboring gentlemen were all rich, and hearty whigs, who acted by us the double part of generous stewards and faithful spies, so that, while there, we lived at once in safety and plenty.

We had reposed ourselves but two days in the pleasant wilds of Snow's Island, before Marion, learning that a part of the enemy were in the neighborhood, desired me to take captains Clarke and Irwin, with fifty men, and try if I could not bring him a good account of them.

We encamped the first night on the plantation of Mr. John Withers, where hearing that Mr. F. Kinloch, our member of Congress, was at a neighboring house, I sent him the following note.

Honorable Sir,

If in these dangerous times you can think yourself safe among a handful of militia-men, I shall be very glad to see you at our camp. As to supper, thank God we can give you a trencher of fat pork and potatoes, but for bed and furniture, we can promise you nothing better than earth and sky. I shall place a sentinel on the road to conduct you to, Honorable Sir, your friend, Peter Horry.

Mr. Kinloch, who was one of the cleverest men in the world, instantly set out to come to us, but unluckily missed our sentinel, and went several miles below us to Mr. Alexander Rose's plantation, managed by a mulatto driver named Jonathan. The day being nearly spent, Jonathan very politely urged Mr. Kinloch to alight and spend the night there, promising him a warm supper and a good bed. Mr. Kinloch accepted Jonathan's offer very cheerfully, and after taking part of a nice fowl and a cup of coffee, went to bed. He had not slept long before Jonathan waked him up, and, with great terror in his looks, told him, "he was mighty 'fraid there was harm a-brewing."

"Aye, Jonathan! why so, my good lad."

"Oh, sir," replied Jonathan, "such a dream as I have had, sir! a marvellous bad dream about the enemy's coming upon you to-night, sir!"

"Poh!" quoth Mr. Kinloch, turning himself over for another nap: "I have dreamed nothing about it, Jonathan. And I'm sure such a dream ought to have come to me, and not to you: so we'll even go to sleep again, and trust to heaven."

Accordingly he fell asleep a second time; but had not long enjoyed that sweetest of opiates, before Jonathan comes again, and awakes him with the old story of his dream.

"Well, Jonathan," said Mr. Kinloch, very good-naturedly, "if you are determined to turn me out of doors, I suppose I must go. But where can I get to this time of night?"

"Why, sir," quoth Jonathan, "I'll get your horse and go with you to the main road, sir, and from there, you can't miss your way back to the house you came from this afternoon."

On Jonathan's return from the short distance he had conducted Mr. Kinloch, he found the yard filled with the British light horse!

These dreams are droll things; but they sometimes come so well attested, that there is no doubting them. He who made our frame, can certainly speak to us as well asleep as awake; and the wise will feel the importance of making a friend of Him, who can cause an airy dream to defend us as effectually as a legion of angels.

The next night, just as we were about to encamp, we lighted on a negro fellow, belonging to Mr. Joseph Alston, whom I quickly had by the heels, lest he should give intelligence to the enemy. But, as the devil would have it, just before day, the sergeant of the guard, overcome by the negro's importunities, loosened him and let him go. And, mark now, young officers, what comes from disobeying orders. This villain of a blackamoor had not gone above three miles before he fell in with the British, to whom, Judas-like, he betrayed us off hand! and they as quickly took horse, and pushed on to surprise us.

By sunrise I had all my men mounted; captain Clarke leading the advance, myself and captain Irvin bringing up the rest of the corps.

The British first discovered captain Clarke, which they did in the way of a glimpse, through an opening in the woods; then sounding their bugles, they rushed on to the charge. Unfortunately, Clarke had not yet seen the enemy, and mistaking their bugles for the huntsmen's horns, ordered a halt to see the deer go by. But instead of a herd of flying deer, behold! a column of British cavalry all at once bursting into the road, and shouting and rushing on with drawn swords to the charge. In a moment, as if themselves metamorphosed into deer, Clarke and his advance wheeled about, and giving their horses "the timber",* flew back upon our main body, roaring out as they came in sight — "The British! the British!"

—
* This is a Carolina phrase for slashing. If a husband should
so far forget himself as to beat his wife! which, thank God,
is very rare, his neighbors, with great scorn, say of him
as he pokes his hated face along, Aye, that's the jockey
that gives his wife the timber.
—

Quick as thought my men caught the panic, and facing about, took to their heels, and went off as if the d—-l had been behind them. I bawled after them as loud as I could roar, "Halt! Halt!" but I might as well have bawled to the whirlwinds, for it appeared to me the louder I bawled, the swifter the rascals flew. Whereupon I clapped spurs to my young Janus, and went off after them at full stretch, hoping to gain their front and so bring them to. Being mounted on a young full-blooded charger, fresh and strong from the stable, I bid fair to gain my point too, for I was coming up with them hand over hand. — But, in that very juncture of time, as the Lord was pleased to order it, my girth gave way, my saddle turned, and my charger fetching a ground start, threw me, saddle, holsters, and all, full ten feet over his head, and then ran off. I received no harm, God be praised for it, but recovering my legs in an instant, bawled out again to my men to halt and form.

Happily for me, at the very moment of my disaster, the enemy, suspecting our flight to be only a finesse, had halted, while only sixteen dragoons under colonel Camp, continued the chase.

Scorning to fly from such a handful, some of my more resolute fellows, thirteen in number, faced about, and very deliberately taking their aim at the enemy as they came up, gave them a `spanker', which killed upwards of half their number. The rest took to flight, leaving their colonel, whose horse was slain, to shift for himself, which he quickly did by running into the woods.

The British were so near us when they received the fire of my men, that one of them, a stout fellow, as he wheeled to go off, came so close to me, where I stood on the ground, that he was lifting his broadsword for a back-handed stroke, which would probably have saved me the trouble of writing this history, had I not, with one of my pistols, which I took from the saddle when my horse left me, anticipated his kindness, by driving a bullet through his shoulder, which brought him to the ground. Then mounting his horse, while my men caught the horses of those that were killed, we galloped off, very well satisfied that the affair had turned out no worse.

On returning to Marion, I could not help complaining to him of my men, whose behavior, I said, in this last affair, had been so very dastardly, that I was much afraid, I should never again put confidence in them, nor gain any credit by commanding them. "Pshaw!" said he, with a smile, "it is because you do not understand the management of them: you command militia; it will not do to expect too much from that sort of soldiers. If on turning out against the enemy, you find your men in high spirits, with burning eyes all kindling around you, that's your time, then in close columns, with sounding bugles and shining swords, dash on, and I'll warrant your men will follow you, eager as the lion's whelps bounding with their sire to the chase of the buffaloes. But on the other hand, if by any un-looked-for providence they get dismayed, and begin to run, you are not to fly in a passion with them, and show yourself as mad as they are cowardly. No! you must learn to run too: and as fast as they; nay FASTER, that you may get into the front and encourage them to rally.

"And as to the credit that you are to get by commanding them, I find, my dear fellow, that you are entirely in the wrong there also. Our country cannot expect us to cope with British regulars. War is an art, the deepest of all arts, because the greatest of all earthly consequences depend on it. And none can expect to be masters of that terrible art, but such as serve a long apprenticeship to it. But as we have served no apprenticeship, we can know but little about it in comparison with our enemies, who in discipline and experience have greatly the advantage of us. But, thank God, we have our advantages too. — We are far better riders, better woodsmen, and better marksmen than they. These are noble advantages. Let us but improve them by redoubled activity and vigilance, and kindness to our men, and especially by often conversing with them on the grounds of the war, the merits of our cause, and the vast consequences depending. Let us, I say, in this way, make them soldiers in principle, and fond of their officers, and all will be well yet. By cutting off the enemy's foraging parties, drawing them into ambuscades and falling upon them by surprise, we shall, I hope, so harass and consume them, as to make them glad to get out of our country. And then, the performance of such a noble act will bring us credit, and credit enough too, in the eyes of good men; while as to ourselves, the remembrance of having done so much to vindicate the rights of man, and make posterity the happier for us, will afford us a pleasure that may outlive this momentary being."