nection with Conyers, is
told, which will serve to show what was the spirit of the patriotic
damsels of the revolution. Marion had environed Colonel Watson, at a
plantation where Mary, the second daughter of John Witherspoon, was
living at the time. She was betrothed to Conyers. The gallant captain
daily challenged the British posts, skirmishing in the sight of his
mistress. His daring was apparent enough--his great skill and courage
were known. He presented himself frequently before the lines of the
enemy, either as a single champion or at the head of his troop. The
pride of the maiden's heart may be imagined when she heard the warning
in the camp, as she frequently did--"Take care,--there is Conyers!" The
insult was unresented: but, one day, when her lover appeared as usual, a
British officer, approaching her, spoke sneeringly, or disrespectfully,
of our knight-errant. The high spirited girl drew the shoe from her
foot, and flinging it in his face, exclaimed, "Coward! go and meet him!"
The chronicler from whom we derive this anecdote is particularly careful
to tell us that it was a walking shoe and not a kid slipper which she
made use of; by which we are to understand, that she was no ways tender
of the stroke.

* Judge James' Sketch of Marion.--

The Horrys were both able officers. Hugh was a particular favorite of
Marion. For his brother he had large esteem. Of Peter Horry we have
several amusing anecdotes, some of which we gather from himself. It is
upon the authority of his MS. memoir that we depend for several matters
of interest in this volume. This memoir, written in the old age of the
author, and while he suffered from infirmities of age and health, is a
crude but not uninteresting narrative of events in his own life, and of
the war. The colonel confesses himself very frankly. In his youth he had
a great passion for the sex, which led him into frequent difficulties.
These, though never very serious, he most seriously relates. He was
brave, and ambitious of distinction. This ambition led him to desire
a command of cavalry rather than of infantry. But he was no rider--was
several times unhorsed in combat, and was indebted to the fidelity of
his soldiers for his safety.* On one occasion his escape was more narrow
from a different cause. He gives us a ludicrous account of it himself.
Crossing the swamp at Lynch's Creek, to join Marion, in the dark, and
the swamp swimming, he encountered the bough of a tree,