Chapter 24.
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."