Just as we had got completely refreshed, and braced up again, what should we hear but the firing of our sentinels. "To horse! to horse! my brave fellows!" was the cry of one and all. Quick as thought, we were all mounted and formed, when in came our sentinels, with the British dragoons hard after them, smack up to the fence.
Charge boys, charge! was the word. In a moment the yard was bright with the shining of our swords. The tory girls shrieked out for their sweethearts -- "Oh the British! the British! murder! murder! Oh!"Then off we went, all at once, in solid column. The enemy took to their heels, and we pursued. Over the fence we bounded like stags.
Down the hill went the British. Down the hill went we;helter-skelter, man and horse, we flew; roaring through the woods like the sound of distant thunder.
We were all excellently mounted; but there was no horse that could hold the way with Selim. He was the hindmost of all when the chase began; and I wondered at first what had become of Selim;but presently I saw him and Macdonald coming up on my right like a thundergust. Indeed, with his wide-spread nostrils, and long extended neck, and glaring eyeballs, he seemed as a flying dragon in chase of his prey. He soon had his master up with the enemy. I saw when Macdonald drew his claymore. The shining of his steel was terrible, as, rising on his stirrups, with high-lifted arm, he waved it three times in fiery circles over his head, as if to call up all his strength.
Then, with a voice of thunder, he poured his charging shout, dreadful as the roar of the lion when, close up to his game, with hideous paws unclenched, he makes his last spring on the fat buffaloes of his chase.
Though their mortal enemy, I could not but pity the poor fugitives, for I saw that their death was at hand. One of the British officers fired a pistol at him, but without effect: before he could try another, he was cut down by Macdonald. After this, at a blow a piece, he sealed the eyes of three dragoons in lasting sleep.
Two fell beneath the steel of the strong-handed Snipes; nor did my sword return bloodless to its scabbard. In short, of the whole party, consisting of twenty-five, not a man escaped, except one officer, who, in the heat of the chase and carnage, cunningly shot off, at right angles, for a swamp, which he luckily gained, and so cleared himself.
The name of this officer was Meriot, and as finished a gentleman he was too, as I ever saw. I got acquainted with him after the war, at New York.
Soon as the ceremony of introduction was over, he smiled, and asked if I were not in the skirmish just related? On being answered in the affirmative, he again inquired, if I did not recollect how handsomely one of the British officers gave me the slip that day?
I told him I did. "Well," continued he, "I was that officer;and of all the frights I ever had in my life, that was the most complete.
Will you believe me, sir, when I assure you, that I went out that morning, with my locks of as bright an auburn as ever curled upon the forehead of youth; and by the time I had crawled out of the swamp, into Georgetown, that night, they were as gray as a badger!
I was well nigh taking an oath never to forgive you, during breath, for frightening me so confoundedly. But, away with all malice! let it go to the devil, where it belongs. So come, you must go dine with me, and I'll show you a lovelier woman than either of those that rode in the chair that day."I went with him, and was introduced to his wife, a lovely woman indeed! to whom, with great glee, he related the whole history of the chase, and his own narrow escape, and then laughed very heartily. But not so his gentle partner. For, as he told of the shrill whizzing of our swords close behind him, and of the groans of his dragoons as they fell, cut down from their horses, her face turned pale, and pensive;then, looking at him with great tenderness, she heaved a deep sigh, to think how near her husband had been to death.
Meriot looked with pleasure on the troubled countenance of his lovely wife, because he well knew the fond source of her troubles. Then, snatching up a goblet of sangree, richly mantled over with nutmeg, he presented it to her ruby lips, saying, "Come, my dear, drink, and forget the past!" Then, taking my hand with great cordiality, he exclaimed, "Well, colonel Horry, we have been foes, but thank God, we are good friends again.
And now let me drink to you a sentiment of my heart, `Here's friendship in marble, enmity in dust.'"The behavior of this noble Englishman, has often served to deepen my abhorrence of WAR, which too frequently sets those to cutting each other's throats, who were born to be brothers.
