The Life of Gen. Francis Marion | Page 8

D'Aubrey was one
of that blind sort who place all their religion in forms and notions. He
could smile and look very fond upon a man, though not over moral,
provided that man went to his church -- praised his preacher and
opinions, and abused everybody else; but would look very sour on the
best man on earth who differed from him in those things. In short, he
was destitute of love, the sole life of religion. And though on account
of his wife's importunities and his daughter's repose, he had consented
to her marriage with Marion, yet he never liked the young `heretic', and
therefore he read the order of his banishment without any burst of grief,
and made no effort to revoke the decrees of the church against him, but
abandoned him to his fate.
Such insensibility to her husband's interest distressed poor Louisa
exceedingly. However, it had this good effect: It contributed greatly to
lessen her regret at parting with her parents.
"O had they but loved me as you do, my Marion," said she, "could they
have been so indifferent when my all was at stake? No, indeed,"
continued she, "they could not," and burst into tears.
"Dearest Louisa!" replied he, tenderly embracing her, "would not I
leave father and mother and all for you?"
"Well," returned she, with eyes of love, outshining all diamonds, "and
am I not going to leave all for you? Yet a few days and I shall have no
father, no mother, no country; cut off from all the world but you,
Marion! alas! what will become of me if you should prove cruel to
me?"
"Cruel! cruel to you, Louisa! O my God, can that ever be?"
"Ah Marion! but some excellent women have left father and mother,
and followed their husbands; and yet, after all have been cruelly

neglected by them!"
"Yes, Louisa; and God forgive them for that horrid crime! But to me
such a deed were utterly impossible. I live for happiness, Louisa, I live
for happiness, my angel. And I find so much happiness in loving, that I
would as soon cease to live as cease to love. Some indeed, `sordid
celebutes' for example, seem to exist without love; but it is only a
seeming existence, most joyless and imperfect. And they bear the
dullness of apathy the better, because they have never known the
transports of affection. But with me, my charmer, the case is happily
different; for at the moment I first saw those angel eyes, they infused a
sweetness into my heart unknown before. And those delicious sparks,
fanned by your loves and graces, have now risen to such a flame of
bliss, that methinks, were it to go out, my life would go out with it.
Then, my first and last, and only sweetheart, I pray you, do not fear that
I shall ever cease to love you: for indeed that can never be while you
continue even half as lovely as you are at present."
"Well then, Marion," replied she, fondly pressing his ruddy cheeks to
her heaving bosom, "if it depends on me, on my constant affection and
studiousness to please, you shall never love me less; but more and more
every day of your life."
The next morning, accompanied by Madame D'Aubrey, Marion and
Louisa returned home in order to make the best preparations, which the
shortness of the time would allow, to quit their country for ever.
In choosing his place of exile, it has been said that Marion's thoughts
were at first turned towards the West Indies. But it would appear that
Heaven had decreed for him a different direction. For scarcely had he
reached his home, much agitated about the means of getting off in time,
before a letter was brought him from an intimate friend in Rochelle,
informing him that a large ship, chartered for the Carolinas, by several
wealthy Huguenot families, was then lying at anchor under the Isle de
Rhee. Gratefully regarding this as a beckoning from heaven, they at
once commenced their work, and prosecuted it with such spirit, that on
the evening of the ninth day they embraced their weeping friends and
went on board the ship.
It is said that many of the most respectable families of Carolina -- the
Gourdines, Hugers, Trapiers, Postells, Horrys, &c. came over in the
same ship.

The next day, the clouds began to bank the eastern sky, and the winds
to whistle from the hills. Pleased with the darkly rippling waters, the
ready ship got home her anchors and loosed her sails. Then wheeling
before the freshening gale, she bid adieu to her native shores, and on
wings of wide-spread canvas, commenced her foaming course for the
western world.
But though mutual love and confidence in