any one but an officer. Soon the cry, "a
rebel General," sounded along the line. The musketeers immediately, by
platoons, fired upon him. He proceeded about twenty-five rods, when he
fell from his horse, mortally wounded. Presently he was raised to his
feet, stripped of his hat, coat and neck-cloth, and placed with his
hands resting on a wagon. His body was found, upon examination, to
have been pierced by seven musket balls. Whilst standing in this
position, and the blood streaming through his shirt, Cornwallis, with
his suite, rode up. Being informed that the wounded man was Baron De
Kalb, he addressed him by saying: "I am sorry, sir, to see you; not
sorry that you are vanquished, but sorry to see you so badly wounded."
Having given orders to an officer to administer to the wants of the
Baron, Cornwallis rode on to secure the fruits of his victory. In a
short time the brave and generous De Kalb, who had served in the
armies of France and embarked in the American cause, breathed his
last. He is buried in Camden, where a neat monument has been erected
to his memory.

After being confined seven days in a prison-yard in Camden, Hunter was
taken, with many other prisoners, including about fifty officers, to
Orangeburg, where he remained until the 13th of November following,
_without hat or coat_. On that day, without any intention of
transgressing, he set out to visit a friendly lady in the suburbs who
had promised to give him a homespun coat. Before he reached her
residence, he was stopped by a horseman, armed with sword and pistols,
who styled himself a Lieutenant of the station at the Court House,
under Col. Fisher. The horseman blustered and threatened, and sternly
commanded him to march before him to the station to be tried for
having broken his parole. No excuse, apology or confession would be
received in extenuation of his transgression. "To the station," said
the horseman, "you shall go--take the road." The Tory loyalist was
evidently exercising his brief authority over a real Whig. Up the road
his prisoner had to go, sour and sulky, with much reluctance, being
hurried in his march by the point of the Tory's sword. Hunter pursued
his course, but constantly on the look-out for some means of
self-defence. Fortunately, after they progressed a short distance,
they approached a large fallen pine tree, around which lay a quantity
of pine-knots, hardened and blackened by the recent action of fire.
Hunter, in an instant,