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heat of the battle, the iron hail pouring in torrents upon our devoted heads, a ball struck me in the breast, but being well nigh spent it providentially did no other damage than raise a blood blister. We stayed at Savannah about seven weeks, and then returned to South Carolina, under the command of Gen. Bull. (1)

Having now become greatly attached to the army, in April 1776 I enlisted in the regular service at Fort Littleton, Beaufort District, commanded by that brave and sagacious officer, Capt. William Harden. (2). There were about eighty-five men stationed at Fort Littleton, and I am the only one now remaining of that number. The greater part of the rest, through the fortunes of war, left their bones bleaching upon the battle plains; the few who survived the ravages of war have long since fallen beneath the cold and relentless hand of death.

In July, 1777, I left Capt. Harden, but immediately joined Col. James Thompson's detachment on Pipe Creek. While stationed there I accompanied Capt. John Mumford and a few choice fellows, upon an expedition to Georgia, to take a guard commanded by Capt. Mott, a Tory, near Hutson's Ferry. We thought to surprise them; but through some unaccountable means, they had discovered our intentions some time before we reached the house where they were barricaded, and snugly encasing themselves, were prepared for our attack, and kept us at bay by firing at us through their port holes. The enemy, from their favorable position, could single out our men with deadly aim.

During the engagement I screaned myself behind a tree, with the two-fold object of protecting myself from danger and taking deliberate aim at the enemy. Whilst in the act of shooting, a ball from the fort struck the tree just above my head, and dashed the bark into my face. I was rather cautious how I projected my head again beyond the necessary limits. As our captain was now severely wounded in the knee, and John Booth mortally, of which he soon died, we gathered our wounded in blankets, and returned to South Carolina, to Col.

Thompson's camps. When Charleston fell into the hands of the British under the command of Sir Henry Clinton (3) and Admiral Arbuthnot, (4) Captain Mumford, in attempting to make his way to the American Army, was attacked at Morris's Ford, Saltketchie, by old Ben John and his gang of Tories. In this encounter, the poor fellow lost his life, and a truer patriot and braver soldier never fell. He now sleeps at the foot of a large pine, on the left hand side of the main road to Barnwell C. H., a few rods south of the bridge, just at the turn of the road from which you can see the bridge.

A short time after these misfortunes, being stung to the quick at our recent defeat and irretrievable loss, and thirsting for justice, a company of fifty horse, led on by Col. Thompson and Major Bourgouin, sallied forth on a second expedition to take the formidable Captain Mott and his allies. In this instance fortune favored us. I took part of the company, and went between the house and swamp. Our approach was so quiet and unexpected by the Tories that, making a charge upon them, they, without the least effort to defend themselves, surrendered. Taking our prisoners, we returned in triumph to our headquarters, and from thence they were sent to Charleston under a strong guard.

After this capture of Capt. Mott and his band of Tories, I continued with Capt. Thompson but a short time. Leaving him in conjunction with Joshua Inman and John Green, I raised a company of horse, which we called the "Rangers," with the view of scouting those sections of the country adjacent to the Savannah River, both in Georgia and Carolina, as occasion required. Our station was at Cracker's Neck, S. C. Whilst there, our rude boys would go out in the back swamp and frolic with the inhabitants, and from the great quantity of pinders* they saw among them, said they would give it the name of Pinder Town, by which name it has gone ever since, as it is now well known by the name of "Pinder Town." During our stay at Cracker's Neck, we took two trips to Sunbury, Midway Settlement, Georgia, under the command of Generals Pickens (5), and

*Peanuts.

Twiggs. We had a fight with the British and Tories on Ogeechee Causeway; but not much damage was sustained on either side.

In one of our trips to Midway, a young man by the name of Richardson went ahead of us for the purpose of advising the enemy of our approach, but there lived a Mr. Cooper upon the road, directly in our route, who had a pretty daughter named Jane; and it was well known that young Richardson was in love with Miss Jane, and we suspected that he would call in to see her, so I selected a few men, and by a shorter way between the house and the swamp, intercepted him. He was, as we conjectured, at Cooper's, and as soon as he heard the approach of our men, he ran out-we fired upon him, and left him dead. Cooper ran through an old field, but we sent a few shots after him, one of which entered his heel and stopped him, (I think the distance was nearly two hundred yards)—we brought him to the house,and left him with his family.

In our two trips to Georgia, we made a road in it which since has become a public road, and is now called the "Rebel Road." Georgia at this time was completely in the hands of the British and Tories, They often crossed the river, and killed and plundered the Whigs without mercy. On one occasion I visited my father and the family, with the view of remaining with them all night. On arriving at home, I was pleased to find my brother-in-law, John Joice and a friend from Augusta there, on a visit for a short time, for the times were now dangerous, the Tories having threatened my life and the life of one of my brothers. I felt that in case we were attacked they might render us essential service. And it so came to pass that on this very night they came to put into execution their threat. It was about midnight when they arrived. I was sleeping in the hall, and was awakened by the barking of the dogs. In a few moments I was brought to my feet by a loud rap at the door:-I asked, "Who's there?" Several voices together replied "friends," and said that they were from Sister's Ferry, (6) Gen. Lincoln's (7) army-that their term of enlistment had expired, and that they were now on their return home were greatly fatigued from traveling, and would like to

remain with us during the night. I expressed to them my regret at our inability to accommodate them, as our house was filled with company. After a few minutes' secret deliberation, they asked for a torch of fire, and said they would go to Brier's Creek (8) and

encamp. I felt disposed to accommodate them as far as practicable, yet I had some misgivings with regard to the truth of the statement they had made, but recollecting that the militia were about to be discharged at that point, my doubts were in a great measure removed. I therefore opened the door and handed them a light, but, as if directed by a supernatural agency, I instantly closed it again, and looking through the crack above the door, I could distinctly see what passed among my friends without, by the light of their torch, and to my astonishment I found them to be Tories. Here judge of the narrow escape I made. With what ease could they have put an end to my existence, entered our abode and massacred all within, ere we could have been aroused to a sense of our danger. Coming to the door a second time, they asked for water. I had now discovered the true object of their mission, and was upon my guard. Having made the door doubly fast, I told them in a repulsive tone they might get it out of the well in the yard. This exasperated them exceedingly, and with loud voices they denounced me, father and all the family, threatening to visit vengeance upon the whole household, and with fiendish fury and united strength endeavored to burst the door from its hinges, but finding they could not, they endeavored to shoot me through the crack, (it being a log house, as before mentioned) and they had a tolerable fair chance to do so, as the door of the room in which my father and the family lay was open, and the light shining through it from the room into the hall where I was. They fired four or five times, but missed me and killed my little brother, who was aroused by the uproar. By this time we had gathered our arms, and they made off some little distance from the house, still firing, but to no effect. We were well supplied with powder and ball, and if they had been men and stood their ground like soldiers, (and not have skulked off into the dark as all cowards and villains do when there is an

opportunity offered to fight on equal grounds) we would soon have given them what they richly deserved. I have good reason to be thankful to Almighty God for his kind care and protection of me through so many dangers. I can plainly discern a divine interposition in my deliverance from the hands of those prowling murderers and plunderers.

A few months subsequent to this period, I withdrew from the "Rangers" at Cracker's Neck, and connected myelf with a company of militia keeping guard at Burton's Ferry. We exchanged shots almost every day with the British and Tories, who were on the opposite side, (Georgia). A man moved over and joined our party, who said he had buried three jugs of rum at Hershman's Lake, and designated the spot. One of our number (Benjamin Green) said he knew the place, having once lived in the vicinity of the lake, SO being in the right humor for an exploit, we soon devised and put into execution a plan for visiting the premises. Benjamin Green, Henry Best, John Colding, and myself took a small canoe, and proceeded down King Creek to Savannah River; while we were moving up the stream of the river, with every prospect of success in our enterprise, a gang of Tories, numbering thirty-five, suddenly appeared upon the bank, where they had been lying in ambush awaiting our approach. They hailed us, swearing that if we did not come to and surrender they would kill every one of us. But we had too much knowledge of these rascals and their duplicity to be decoyed in that manner, and to trust ourselves to their clemency. We well knew that if we submitted, death would be the inevitable consequence, and therefore preferred risking our chance in the little canoe, as there was a possibility of evading their shot. Immediately turning our boat's head, with our united strength we urged her forward toward the opposite shore. At this instant they commenced a heavy firing at us. Best was soon wounded, and instantly leaped into the water and clung to the side of the canoe; Colding also received several wounds, which disabled him from further assistance, so he laid down in the canoe, and Green by his side. All hopes of success seemed now centered in

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