Providential escape of Marion out of Charleston — the British fleet and army invest and take that place — Tarleton and the British officers begin to let out — young Scotch Macdonald comes upon the turf — extraordinary anecdote of him — plays a very curious trick on a rich old tory.

How happy it is for man, that the author of his being loves him so much better than he loves himself; and has established so close a connexion between his duty and his advantage. This delightful truth was remarkably exemplified in an event that befell Marion about this time, March, 1780. Dining with a squad of choice whigs, in Charleston, in the house of Mr. Alexander M'Queen, Tradd street, he was so frequently pressed to bumpers of old wine, that he found himself in a fair way to get drunk. 'Twas in vain he attempted to beat a retreat. The company swore, that that would never do for general Marion. Finding, at last, that there was no other way of escaping a debauch, but by leaping out of one of the windows of the dining-room, which was on the second story, he bravely undertook it. It cost him, however, a broken ankle. When the story got about in Charleston, most people said he was a great fool for his pains; but the event soon proved that Marion was in the right, and that there is no policy like sticking to a man's duty. For, behold! presently Charleston was invested by a large British army, and the American general (Lincoln) finding Marion was utterly unfit for duty, advised him to push off in a litter to his seat in St. John's parish. Thus providentially was Marion preserved to his country when Charleston fell, as it soon did, with all our troops.

The spirits of the British were so raised by the capture of our metropolis with all the southern army, that they presently began to scour the neighboring country. And never victors, perhaps, had a country more completely in their power. Their troops were of the choicest kind; excellently equipped, and commanded by active, ambitious young fellows, who looked on themselves as on the high road to fortune among the conquered rebels. They all carried with them pocket maps of South Carolina, on which they were constantly poring like young spendthrifts on their fathers' last testaments. They would also ask a world of questions, such as, "where lay the richest lands? — and the finest situations? — and who were the warmest old fellows, and had the finest girls?" and when answered to their humor, they would break out into hearty laughs; and flourish their swords, and `whoop' and `hoic' it away like young fox hunters, just striking on a fresh trail.

Some of them had Dr. Madan's famous book called "Thylipthora, or a Defence of Polygamy", with which they were prodigiously taken, and talked very freely of reducing the system to practice. Cornwallis, it seems, was to be a bashaw of three tails — Rawdon and Tarleton, of two each — and as a natural appendage of such high rank, they were to have their seraglios and harems filled with the greatest beauties of the country.

"Huzza, my brave fellows!" — they would say to each other; "one more campaign and the `hash' will be settled with the d——d rebels, and then stand by the girls! — stand by the Miss Pinckneys! and Elliots! and Rutledges! and all your bright-eyed, soft bosomed, lovely dames, look sharp! Egad! your charms shall reward our valor! like the grand Turk, we'll have regiments of our own raising! Charleston shall be our Constantinople! and our Circassia, this sweet Carolina famed for beauties! Prepare the baths, the perfumes, and spices! bring forth the violins and the rose buds! and tap the old Madeira, that our souls may all be joy!"

'Twas in this way they would rant; and then, brightened up to the pitch, they would look and grin on each other as sweetly as young foxes, who, prowling round a farm yard, had suddenly heard the cackling of the rooster pullets. The reader shall presently see the violent and bloody course of these ruffians, who did such dishonor to the glorious island they came from. But before I begin my tragedy, I beg leave, by way of prologue, to entertain him a moment with a very curious farce that was acted on a wealthy old tory, near Monk's Corner, while colonel Tarleton with the British advance, lay there.

The hero of the play was a remarkably stout, red-haired young Scotsman, named Macdonald, son of the Macdonald of famous defeat at Morris Creek Bridge, North Carolina. Soon after the defeat of his father he came and joined our troops. Led by curiosity, I could not help, one day, asking him the reason: to which he made, in substance, the following reply.

"Immediately on the misfortune of my father and his friends at the Great Bridge, I fell to thinking what could be the cause; and then it struck me that it must have been owing to their own monstrous ingratitude. "Here now," said I to myself, "is a parcel of people, meaning my poor father and his friends, who fled from the murderous swords of the English after the massacre at Culloden. Well, they came to America, with hardly any thing but their poverty and mournful looks. But among this friendly people that was enough. — Every eye that saw us, had pity; and every hand was reached out to assist. They received us in their houses as though we had been their own unfortunate brothers. They kindled high their hospitable fires for us, and spread their feasts, and bid us eat and drink and banish our sorrows, for that we were in a land of friends. And so indeed we found it; for, whenever we told of the woeful battle of Culloden, and how the English gave no quarter to our unfortunate countrymen, but butchered all they could overtake, these generous people often gave us their tears, and said, "O! that we had been there to aid with our rifles, then should many of these monsters have bit the ground." They received us into the bosoms of their peaceful forests, and gave us their lands and their beauteous daughters in marriage, and we became rich. And yet, after all, soon as the English came to America, to murder this innocent people, merely for refusing to be their slaves, then my father and friends, forgetting all that the Americans had done for them, went and joined the British, to assist them to cut the throats of their `best friends'!

"Now," said I to myself, "if ever there was a time for God to stand up to punish ingratitude, this was the time." And God did stand up: for he enabled the Americans to defeat my father and his friends most completely. But, instead of murdering the prisoners, as the English had done at Culloden, they treated us with their usual generosity. And now these are, "the people I love and will fight for as long as I live." And so he did fight for us, and as undauntedly too as George Washington ever did.

This was young Scotch Macdonald. Now the curious trick which he played, is as follows.

Soon as he heard that colonel Tarleton was encamped at Monk's Corner, he went the next morning to a wealthy old tory of that neighborhood, and passing himself for a sergeant of Colonel Tarleton's corps, presented that officer's compliments, adding that colonel Tarleton was just come to drive the rebels out of the country, and knowing him to be a good friend of the king, begged he would send him one of his best horses for a charger, and that he should be no loser by it.

"Send him one of my finest horses!" cried the old traitor, with eyes sparkling with joy; "Yes, Mr. Sergeant, that I will, by gad! and would send him one of my finest daughters too, had he but said the word. A good friend of the king, did he call me, Mr. Sergeant? yes, God save his sacred majesty, a good friend I am indeed, and a true. And, faith! I am glad too, Mr. Sergeant, that colonel knows it. Send him a charger to drive the rebels, heh? Yes, egad will I send him one, and as proper a one too, as ever a soldier straddled. Dick! Dick! I say you Dick!"

"Here, massa, here! here Dick!"

"Oh, you plaguy dog! so I must always split my throat with bawling, before I can get you to answer heh?"

"High, massa! sure Dick always answer when he hear massa hallo!"

"You do, you villain, do you? — Well then, run! jump! fly, you rascal, fly to the stable, and bring me out Selim, my young Selim! do you hear? you villain, do you hear?"

"Yes, massa, be sure!"

Then turning to Macdonald, he went on: "Well, Mr. Sergeant, you have made me confounded glad this morning, you may depend. And now suppose you take a glass of peach; of good old peach, Mr. Sergeant? do you think it would do you any harm?"

"Why, they say it is good of a rainy morning, sir," replied Macdonald.

"O yes, famous of a rainy morning, Mr. Sergeant! a mighty antifogmatic. It prevents you the ague, Mr. Sergeant; and clears a man's throat of the cobwebs, sir."

"God bless your honor!" said Macdonald, as he turned off a bumper of the high-beaded cordial.

But scarcely had he smacked his lips, before Dick paraded Selim; a proud, full-blooded, stately steed, that stepped as though he disdained the earth he walked upon.

Here the old fellow brightening up, broke out again: "Aye! there,
Mr. Sergeant, there is a horse for you! isn't he, my boy?"

"Faith, a noble animal, sir," replied Macdonald.

"Yes, egad! a noble animal indeed! — a charger for a king, Mr. Sergeant! — Well, my compliments to colonel Tarleton: tell him I've sent him a horse, my young Selim, my grand Turk, do you hear, my son of thunder? And say to the colonel that I don't grudge him neither, for egad! he's too noble for me, Mr. Sergeant. I've no work that's fit for him, sir; no! damme, sir, if there's any work in all this country that's good enough for him, but just that which he is now going on; the driving the d——d rebels out of the land."

And in order to send Selim off in high style, he ordered Dick to bring down his elegant new saddle and holsters, with his silver-mounted pistols. Then giving Macdonald a hot breakfast, and lending him his great coat, as it was raining, he let him go, with a promise that he would come next morning and see how colonel Tarleton liked young Selim.

Accordingly next morning he waited on colonel Tarleton, and told his name, with the smiling countenance of one who expected to be eaten up with fondness. But alas! to his infinite mortification, Tarleton heard his name without the least change of feature.

After recovering a little from his embarrassment, he asked colonel Tarleton how he liked his charger.

"Charger, sir!" replied Tarleton.

"Yes, sir, the elegant horse I sent you yesterday."

"The elegant horse you sent me, sir!"

"Yes, sir, and by your sergeant, sir, as he called himself."

"An elegant horse! and by my sergeant! Why really, sir,
I-I-I don't understand all this!"

The looks and voice of colonel Tarleton too sadly convinced the old traitor that he had been `bit'; and that young Selim was gone! then trembling and pale, cried out, "Why, my dear good sir, did you not send a sergeant yesterday with your compliments to me, and a request that I would send you my very best horse for a charger, which I did?"

"No, sir, never!" replied Tarleton: "I never sent a sergeant on any such errand. Nor till this moment did I ever know that there existed on earth such a being as you."

To have been outwitted in this manner by a rebel sergeant — to have lost his peach brandy — his hot breakfast — his great coat — his new saddle — his silver mounted pistols — and worse than all, his darling horse, his young, full-blooded, bounding Selim — all these keen reflections, like so many forked lightnings, falling at once on the train and tinder of his passions, blew them up to such a diabolical rage that the old sinner had like to have been suffocated on the spot. He turned black in the face; he shook throughout; and as soon as he could recover breath and power of speech, he broke out into a torrent of curses, enough to raise the hair on any Christian man's head.

Nor was colonel Tarleton much behind him, when he came to learn what a noble horse had slipped through his hands. And a noble horse he was indeed! Full sixteen hands high; the eye of a hawk, the spirit of the king eagle; a chest like a lion; swifter than a roebuck, and strong as a buffalo.

I asked Macdonald, how he could reconcile it to himself to take the old poltroon's horse in that way?

"Why, sir," replied he, "as to that matter, people will think differently; but for my part I hold that all is fair in war: and, besides, sir, if I had not taken him colonel Tarleton, no doubt, would have got him. And then, with such a swift strong charger as this, he might do us as much harm as I hope to do to them."

And he did do them harm with a vengeance; for he had no more sense of fear than a hungry tiger. And, as to his strength, it was such, that with one of Potter's blades he would make no more to drive through cap and skull of a British dragoon, than a boy would, with a case-knife, to chip off the head of a carrot. And then, he always kept Selim up so lustily to the top of his metal. He was so fond of him, that I verily believe he would at any time have sold the shirt off his back to get corn for him. And truly Selim was not much his debtor; for, at the first flash and glimpse of a red coat, he would paw and champ his iron bit with rage; and the moment he heard the word "go", off he was among them like a thunderbolt.

And to see how Macdonald would charge, you would swear the fear of death was never before his eyes. Whether it was one or ten against him, it made no odds to this gallant Scotsman. He never stopped to count noses, but would dash in upon the thickest of them, and fall to hewing and cutting down like a very fury incarnate.

Poor Macdonald! the arm of his strength is now in dust; and his large red cheeks have, long ago been food for worms: but never shall I forget when first I saw him fight. 'Twas in the days when the British held Georgetown; and Marion had said to me, "Go and reconnoitre." I took only Macdonald with me. Before day we reached our place of concealment, a thick clump of pines near the road, and in full view of the enemy's lines. Soon as the bonny grey-eyed morning began to peep, we heard the town all alive, as it were, with drums and fifes; and about sunrise, beheld five dragoons turn out, and with prancing steeds dash up the road towards us. I turned my eye on Macdonald, and saw his face all kindled up with the joy of battle. It was like that terrible joy which flashes from the eyes of an ambushed lion, when he beholds the coming forth of the buffaloes towards his gloomy cave. "Zounds, Macdonald," said I, "here's an odds against us, five to two." "By my soul now captain," he replied, "and let 'em come on. Three are welcome to the sword of Macdonald."

Soon as they were come fairly opposite to us, we gave them a blast from our bugles, and with drawn sabres broke in upon them like a tornado.

Their panic was complete; two we stopped, overthrown and weltering in the road. The remaining three wheeled about, and taking to their heels, went off as if old Nick had been bringing up the rear. Then you might have heard the roar, and seen the dust, which dragoons can raise, when, with whip and spur and wildly rolling eyes, they bend forward from the pursuit of death. My charger being but a heavy brute, was soon distanced. But they could not distance the swift-footed Selim. Rapid as the deadly blast of the desert, he pursued their dusty course, still gathering upon them at every jump. And before they could reach the town, though so near, he brought his furious rider alongside of two of them, whom he cut down. One hundred yards further, and the third also would have been slain; for Macdonald, with his crimson claymore, was within a few steps of him, when the guns of the fort compelled him to retire. However, though quickly pursued by the enemy, he had the address to bring off an elegant horse of one of the dragoons whom he had killed.