Occasionally a wild turkey would start from a branch, or a filthy buzzard alight by the wayside, until, as I came suddenly upon a water-course, a wild fawn that stood lapping from the clear stream wheeled and bounded away among the evergreens of the wood.
At about eight o'clock, I arrived at the elegant mansion of William Sinkler, Esq., upon whose plantation are the celebrated Eutaw Springs. It stands in the midst of noble shade-trees, half a mile from the high-way, and is approached by a lane fringed with every variety of evergreen tree and shrub which beautify Southern scenery in winter. I was courteously received by the proprietor; and when the object of my visit was made known, he ordered his horse and accompanied me to the springs and the field of battle, which are about half a mile eastward of his mansion. The springs present a curious spectacle, being really but the first and second apparition of the same subterranean stream. They are a few rods north of the forks of the Canal and the Monk's Corner roads, at the head of a shallow ravine. The first spring is at the foot of a hill, twenty or thirty feet in height. The water bubbles up, cold, limpid, and sparkling, in large volumes, from two or three orifices, into a basin of rock-marl, and, flowing fifty or sixty yards, descends, rushing and foaming, into a cavern beneath a high ridge of marl * covered with alluvium and forest-trees. After traversing its subterraneous way some thirty rods, it reappears upon the other side, where it is a broader stream, and flows gently over a smooth rocky bed toward the Santee, its course marked by tall cypresses, draped with moss. The whole length of the Eutaw Creek, in all its windings, is only about two miles. Where it first bubbles from the earth there is suffi-
* This marl appears to be a concretion of oyster-shells, and is said to be an excellent fertilizer when crushed to powder. In this vicinity, many bones of monsters, like the mastodon, have been found.
Remains of the "Citadel" at Eutaw.—Greene joined by Marion.—American Encampment before the Battle.—Captain Coffin.
cient volume to turn a large mill-wheel, but the fountain is so near the level of the Santee at Nelson's Ferry, where the Eutaw enters, that no fall can be obtained;
on the contrary, when the Santee is filled to the brim, the waters flow back to the springs.
Just at the forks of the road, on the side toward the springs, was a clump of trees and shrubbery, which marked the spot where stood a strong brick house, famous as the citadel of the British camp, and a retreat for some of the warriors in the conflict at Eutaw. Nothing of it now remains but the foundation, and a few broken bricks scattered among some plum-trees. Let us sit down here, in the shadow of a cypress, by the bubbling spring, and consider the event when human blood tinged the clear waters of the Eutaw, where patriots fought and died for a holy principle.