o volumes, containing twelve hundred
and seventy pages.

SERGEANT DONALD M'DONALD

The lives of men who have won a great name on the field of battle throw
a glamor over themselves which is both interesting and fascinating; and
those treading the same path but cut off in their career are forgotten.
However, the American Revolution affords many acts of heroism performed
by those who did not command armies, some of whom performed many acts
worthy of record. Perhaps, among the minor officers none had such a
successful run of brilliant exploits as Sergeant Macdonald, many of
which are sufficiently well authenticated. Unfortunately the essential
particulars relating to him have not been preserved. The warlike deeds
which he exhibited are recorded in the "Life of General Francis Marion"
by General Horry, of Marion's brigade, and Weems. Just how far Weems
romanced may never be known, but in all probability what is related
concerning Sergeant Macdonald is practically true, save the shaping up
of the story.

Sergeant Macdonald is represented to have been a son of General Donald
Macdonald, who headed the Highlanders in North Carolina, and met with an
overwhelming defeat at Moore's Creek Bridge. The son was a remarkably
stout, red-haired young Scotsman, cool under the most trying
difficulties, and brave without a fault. Soon after the defeat and
capture of his father he joined the American troops and served under
General Horry. One day General Horry asked him why he had entered the
service of the patriots. In substance he made the following reply:

"Immediately on the misfortune of my father and his friends at the Great
Bridge, I fell to thinking what could be the cause; and then it struck
me that it must have been owing to their own monstrous ingratitude.
'Here now,' said I to myself, 'is a parcel of people, meaning my poor
father and his friends, who fled from the murderous swords of the
English after the massacre at Culloden. Well, they came to America, with
hardly anything but their poverty and mournful looks. But among this
friendly people that was enough. Every eye that saw us, had pity; and
every hand was reached out to assist. They received us in their houses
as though we had been their own unfortunate brothers. They kindled high
their hospitable fires for us, and spread their feasts, and bid us eat
and drink and banish our sorrows, for that we were in a land of
friends. And so indeed, we found it; for whenever we tol