The count D'Estang, with the French fleet, arrives to attack Savannah --our army marches and joins him -- fatal effects of D'Estang's politeness --biographical dash of young colonel Laurens -- curious dialogue betwixt him and the French general -- unsuccessful attack on Savannah --the brave Jasper mortally wounded -- is visited by the author in his last moments -- interesting conversation --dies like a Christian soldier.
Could the wishes of our army have availed, those gallant soldiers, (Jasper and Newton) would long have lived to enjoy their past, and to win fresh laurels. But alas! the former of them, the heroic Jasper, was soon led, like a young lion, to an evil net.
The mournful story of his death, with heavy heart I now relate.
Scarcely had he returned from Georgia, laden, as aforesaid, with glory, when an express came into camp, and informed that the count D'Estang was arrived off Tybee. Instantly we struck our tents and marched for the siege of Savannah. On arriving near that fatal place, we found that the French troops, with their cannon and mortars, had just come up.
Oh! had we but advanced at once to the attack, as became skilful soldiers, we should have carried every thing before us. The frighted garrison would have hauled down their colors without firing a shot.
This I am warranted to say by the declaration of numbers of their officers, who afterwards fell into our hands. But in place of an immediate `coup de main', the courtly D'Estang sent a flag, very politely inviting the town to do him the extreme honor of receiving their surrender.
The British commander was not much behindhand with the count in the article of politeness, for he also returned a flag with his compliments, and requested to be permitted four and twenty hours to think of the matter.
If the ASKING such a favor was extraordinary, what must the GRANTING of it have been? But the accomplished D'Estang was fully equal to such douceurs for he actually allowed the enemy four and twenty hours to think of surrendering!
But instead of THINKING, like simpletons, they fell to ENTRENCHING, like brave soldiers. And being joined that very day by colonel Maitland from Beaufort, with a regiment of Highlanders, and assisted by swarms of negroes, decoyed from their masters under promise of freedom, they pushed on their works with great rapidity. According to the report of our troops who were encamped nearest to them, nothing was heard all that night, but the huzzas of the soldiers, the lashes of cow-hides, and the cries of negroes.
I never beheld Marion in so great a passion. I was actually afraid he would have broke out on general Lincoln. "My God!" he exclaimed, "who ever heard of any thing like this before! -- first allow an enemy to entrench, and then fight him!! See the destruction brought upon the British at Bunker's Hill! and yet our troops there were only militia! raw, half-armed clodhoppers! and not a mortar, nor carronade, nor even a swivel -- but only their ducking guns!
"What then are we to expect from regulars -- completely armed with a choice train of artillery, and covered by a breast-work!
For my own part, when I look upon my brave fellows around me, it wrings me to the heart, to think how near most of them are to their bloody graves."In fact, Marion was so outrageous, as indeed were all of us, that we at length begged colonel Laurens to speak to the count D'Estang.
And here I must beg the reader's pardon a moment, while I inform him that this colonel Laurens (son of President Laurens) was a very extraordinary young Carolinian.
On a trip to London, he fell in love with, and married a celebrated belle of that city. It would seem that he was very much taken with his English relations, and they with him, for after his marriage, they would not suffer him to revisit his parents, who doted on him, being their only son, but detained him with them in London, as gay as a young man well could be, in the gayest city in the world, moving every day in the highest circles of society, and every night encircled in the fond arms of a beauteous wife.
But soon as the war against America broke out, his gaiety all forsook him.
The idea of a ruffian soldiery overrunning his native land, preyed incessantly on his spirits, and threw him into those brown studies which cost his lady full many a tear. Unable to bear his disquietude, he fled at length from his wife and infant family, to fight for his country.
He presented himself before the great Washington, who was so struck with the fire that beamed from his eyes, that he made him handsome offers of rank in the army. But his favorite service was to lead `forlorn hopes', and the daring bands that are destined to carry the enemy's works by storm. Washington often gave him letters to this effect to his generals. And this was his object at Savannah, where a regiment of choice infantry was immediately put under his command.
But instead of being permitted his favorite pleasure of seeing his ardent warriors mounting the enemy's works, and rushing down streams of fire, followed by the bayonet, he was doomed to fret and pine in the humble office of interpreter between count D'Estang and general Lincoln.
"But, Monsieur le count," said Laurens to D'Estang, "the American officers say they are afraid you have given the English too long time to think."At this, as Laurens told us afterwards, the count put on a most comic stare, and breaking into a hearty laugh, replied, "De Engleesh think! ha, ha, ha!
By gar dat one ver good parole! De Engleesh tink, heh, Monsieur le colonel!
By gar, de Engleesh never tink but for deir bellie.
