History of captain Snipes -- wanton destruction of his property by the tories -- his own miraculous escape -- admirable fidelity of his negro driver Cudjo.
Captain Snipes, who made such a figure in the wars of Marion, was a Carolinian, of uncommon strength and courage; both of which he exerted with great good will, against the British and tories; from principle partly, and partly from revenge. But though a choice soldier, he was no philosopher.
He did not consider that to fight for duty, people must love it;that to love it, they must understand it; that to understand it, they must possess letters and religion: that the British and tories, poor fellows! possessing neither of these, were not to have been expected to act any other than the savage and thievish part they did act;and therefore, no more to be hated for it than the cats are for teasing the canary birds.
But captain Snipes had no turn for investigations of this sort.
Knowledge, by intuition, was all that he cared for; and having it, by instinct, that an "Englishman ought never to fight against liberty,"nor an "American against his own country," he looked on them, to use his own phrase, as a "pack of d--n-d rascals, whom it was doing God service to kill wherever he could find them."But Snipes was not the aggressor. He kept in, very decently, till the enemy began to let out, as they did, in plundering, burning, and hanging the poor whigs; and then, indeed, like a consuming fire, his smothered hate broke forth:
"That hate which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign The souls of royal slaves untimely slain."Afraid, in fair fight, to meet that sword which had so often shivered their friends, they determined to take him as the Philistines did Samson, by surprise; and having learned from their spies, that he was at home, they came upon him in force about midnight.
His complete destruction, both of life and property, was their horrid aim.
Happily, his driver, or black overseer, overheard their approach;and flying to his master with terror-struck looks, cries out "Run! run! massa, run! de enemy 'pon you."Snipes, stark naked, save his shirt, darted out as swift as his legs could carry him.
"But where shall I run, Cudjo? into the barn?""Oh no, massa! dey burn de barn, dat sure ting!""Well, where shall I run then?"
"Take de bush massa! take de briar bush."
Within fifty yards of the house was a clump of briers, so thick set, that one would have thought a frightened cat would scarcely have squeezed herself into it from the hot pursuing dogs.
But what will not fear enable a man to do? Captain Snipes, big as he was, slipped into it with the facility of a weasel through the chinks of a chicken-coop; but lost every thread and thrumb of his shirt;and moreover, got his hide so scratched and torn by the briers, that the blood trickled from him fast as gravy from a fat green goose.
Scarcely had he gained his hiding-place, before the tories, with horrid oaths, burst into his house, with their guns cocked, ready to shoot him.
But oh! death to their hopes! he was gone: the nest was there, and warm, but the bird was flown!
Then seizing poor Cudjo by the throat, they bawled out: "You d----d rascal, where's your master?"He told them he did not know.
"You lie! you black son of a b-t-h! you lie."But he still asserted he knew nothing of his master.
Suspecting that he must be in some one or other of his buildings, they set fire to them all; to his dwelling house, his kitchen, his stables, and even his negro cabins, watching all the while, with their muskets ready to shoot him as he ran out. From their nearness to his lurking place, the heat of his burning houses was so intense as to parch his skin into blisters. But it was death to stir, for he would certainly have been seen.
