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Pa?P 77. 
 
 M' DonahV s trick on the old Tory. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 GENERAL FRANCIS MARION, 
 
 A CELEBRATED PARTISAN OFFICER, 
 
 IN THE 
 
 AGAINST THE 
 
 BRITISH AND TORIES 
 
 ^^ 
 
 SOUTH CAROLINA AND GEORGIA. 
 
 BRIG. GEN. P. HORRY, 
 
 OF MARION'S BEIOADE, AND 
 / 
 
 M. L. \YEEMS, 
 
 rOEMERLT RECTOa OP MOUNT VERNON FAEIBB. 
 
 On Vernon's Chief why lavish all our lays; 
 
 Come, honest Muse, and sing great Marion's praise.'* 
 
 PIIILADELPIIIA : 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 18 6 0. 
 
L 2on 
 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania, to wit 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, Tliat on the twenty-fifth day of 
 
 September, in the forty-ninth year of tlie Independence of the 
 
 United States of America, A. D. 1824, H. C. Carey <& I. Lea, 
 
 of the said district, have deposited in this ofEce the title of a 
 
 book, tlie right whereof thev claim as proprietors, in the words 
 
 following to wit : 
 
 " Tlie Life of Gen. Francis Marion, a celebrated j/<irti5an 
 
 " officer i:i the Revolutionary War, against the British and 
 
 " Tories in South Carolina and Georgia. By Brigadier 
 
 " General P. Horry, of Marion's Brigade, and AI. L. 
 
 " Weems. 
 
 " On Vernon's Chief, why lavish all our lays 1 
 
 " Come, honest Muse, and sing great Marion's praise." 
 
 In Conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United 
 States, entitled, " An Act for the Encouragement of Learning 
 by securing tlie Copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Au- 
 thors and Proprietors of such Copies, during the times tlierein 
 mentioned." — And also to the Act, entitled, " An Act sup- 
 plementary to an Act, entitled, " An Act for the Encourage- 
 ment of liearning, by securing the Copies of Maps, Charts, and 
 Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies during 
 the times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits there- 
 of to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical 
 and other prints." 
 
 D. CALDWELL. 
 Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania 
 
 N. B. The above Copy-Right has been purchased by Joseph 
 A lien, and is regularly transferred to him. 
 
 
L 
 
 Si 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 " THAT mine enemy would write a book.'" — This, 
 m former times, passed for as sore an evil as a good 
 man could think of wishing to his worst enemy.— 
 Whether any of my enemies ever wished me so great 
 an evil, I know not. But certain it is, I never dream- 
 ed of such a thing as writing a book ; and least of all 
 a war book. What, I! a man here under the frozen 
 zone and grand climacteric of my days, with one loot 
 in the grave and the other hard by, to quit xay prayer 
 book and crutches, (an old man's best companion,, 
 and drawing my sword, flourish and fight over again 
 the battles of my youth. 
 
 The Lord forbid me such madness ! But what can 
 one do when one's friends are eternally teazing him, 
 as they are me, and calling out at every whipstitch 
 and corner of the streets, " Well, but, sir, where s 
 Marion ? where s the history of Marion, that we have 
 so long been looking for f 
 
 'Twas in vain that I told them I was no scholar ; 
 no historian. " God," said I, " gentlemen, has made 
 ' many men of many minds ;' one for this thing and 
 another for that. But I am morally certain he neve; 
 made me for a wrifer. I did indeed once understand 
 something about the use of a broad sword ; but as to 
 a pen, gentlemen, that's quite another part of speech. 
 The ditierence between a broad-sword and a pen, 
 gentlemen, is prodigious ; and it is not every officer, 
 'et me tell you, gentlemen, who can, like Csesar, fight 
 
 (iii) 
 
 a 
 
iT PREFACE. 
 
 you a great battle with his sword to-day, and fight it 
 over again with his pen to-morrow." 
 
 ^'^ Burn CcBser r^ replied they, '■^ and his hook too. 
 If it loere wntten in letters of gold, vie would 7iot read 
 it. What have honest republicans like us to do with 
 such an ambitious cut-throat and robber? Besides 
 sir, your reasoning about scholarship, and fine style, 
 and all that, does not, begging your pardon, apply at 
 all to the case in hand. Small subjects indeed, re- 
 quire great writers to set them off; but great sub- 
 jects require no such artificial helps: like true beau- 
 ties, they shine most in the simplest dress. Marion 
 is one of this sort : great in his simplicity. Then 
 give us Marion — plain, brave, honest Marion ; that's 
 all we want, sir. And you can do this better than 
 any other man. You have known him longest ; have 
 fought closest by his side : and can best tell us of his 
 noble deeds. And surely now, after all, you can't 
 bear to let him die, and all his great actions, and be 
 forgotten forever." 
 
 This, I confess, went to the quick, and roused me 
 completely. '■'■What! Marion forgotten V I exclaim- 
 ed, " Marion forgotten ! and by me .'" No, never ! 
 never! while memory looks back on the dreadful 
 days of the revolution ; when a British despot, not 
 the NATION, (for I esteem them most generous,) but 
 a proud, stupid, obstinate, despot, trampling the holy 
 CHARTKR and constitution of England's realm, issued 
 against us, (sons of Britons,) that most unrighteous 
 edict, taxation without representation ! and then, be- 
 cause in the spirit of our gallant fathers, we bravely 
 opposed him, he broke up the very fountains of his 
 malice, and let loose upon us every indescribable, 
 unimaginable curse of civil war ; when British ar- 
 mies, with their Hessian, and Indian, and tory allies, 
 overrun my afflicted country, swallowing up its fruits 
 and filling every part with consternation ; w^hen no 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 thing was to be seen but flying crcAvds, burning 
 houses, and young men, (alas! too often,) hanging 
 upon the trees like dogs, and old men wringing their 
 withered hands over their murdered boys, and wo- 
 men and children weeping and flying from their 
 ruined plantations into the starving woods ! When f 
 think, I say, of these things, oh my God! how can I 
 ever forget Marion, that vigilant, undaunted soldier, 
 whom thy own mercy raised up to scourge such 
 monsters, and avenge his country's wrongs. 
 
 The Washington of the south, he steadily pursued 
 the warfare most safe for us^ and most fatal to our 
 enemies. He taught us to sleep in the swamps, to 
 feed on roots, to drink the turbid waters of the ditch, 
 to prowl nightly round the encampments of the foe, 
 like lions round the habitations of the shepherds who 
 had slaughtered their cubs. Sometimes he taught us 
 to fall upon the enemy by surprise, distracting the 
 midnight hour with the horrors of our battle : at other 
 times, when our forces were increased, he led us on 
 boldly to the charge, hewing the enemy to pieces, 
 under the approving light of day. Oh, Marion, my 
 friend! my friend! never can I forget thee. Although 
 thy wars are all ended, and thyself at rest in the 
 grave, yet I see thee still. I see thee as thou wert 
 wont to ride, most terrible in battle to the enemies of 
 thy country. Thine eyes like balls of fire, flamed be- 
 neath thy lowering brows. But lovely still wert thou 
 in mercy, thou bravest among the sons of men ! For, 
 soon as the enemy sinking under our swords, cried 
 for quarter, thy heart swelled with commiseration, 
 and thy countenance was changed, even as the coun- 
 tenance of a man who beheld the slaughter of his 
 brothers. The basest tory who could but touch the 
 hem of thy garment was safe. The avengers of blood 
 stopped short in thy presence, and turned away 
 aba.shei.'f from the lightning of thine eves. 
 
 1* 
 
»1 I'REFACE. 
 
 that my pen were of the quill of the swan that 
 sings for future days ! then shouldst thou, ray friend, 
 receive the fulness of thy fame. The fathers, of the 
 years to come, should talk of thy noble deeds ; and 
 ihe youth yet unborn should rise up and caL thee 
 blessed. Fired at the charm of thy virtues, they 
 should follov/ thee in the path of thy glory, and make 
 Ihemsclves the future Marions of their country. 
 
 PETER HORRY. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 GEN FRANCIS MARION 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Short sketch of an extraordinary French couple, viz., tlie grand- 
 father and mother of our hero — their early and happy lovea 
 — cruel persecution of the priests — final expulsion from tlieir 
 native country — providential settlement in South Carolina — 
 their prosperous and exemplary lives — singular will of old 
 Marion — and birtli of his grandson, Francis. 
 
 Immortal may their memory be 
 Who fought and bled for liberty. 
 
 One thousand seven hundred and thirty two was 
 a glorious year for America. It gave birth to two of 
 the noblest thunderbolts of her wars, George Wash- 
 ington and Francis Marion. The latter was born in 
 St. John's parish, South Carolina. His father also 
 was a Carolinian, but his grandfather was a Hugue- 
 not or French Protestant, who lived near Rochelle, 
 in the blind and bigoted days of Louis XIV. 
 
 The priests, who are the persecutors in all countries 
 except America, could not bear that he should wor- 
 ship God in his own way, or dream of going to heaven 
 but in their leading strings, and therefore soon gave 
 
 (7) 
 
8 THE LIFE OF 
 
 him CO understand, that he must either ''recant or 
 trot ; that is, quit his heresy or his country. 
 
 loo brave to play the hypocrite, and too uise to 
 hope for happiness with a " wounded spirit " he 
 quick y made up his mind, and, like faithful Abra- 
 ham, forsook Ins country, to wander an exile in lands 
 unknown 1 he angel who guides the footsteps of the 
 virtuous, directed his course to South CaroJiia ; and 
 as a reward for his piety, placed him in a land ^here 
 migh y deeds and honors were ripening for his 
 grandson. Jsor did he wander alone. A cherub, 
 in he form of a lovely wife, followed his fortunes 
 and gave him to know, from happy experience, tha[ 
 where love is, there is no exile. 
 
 Previous to his expulsion, the priests had, for 
 some time, suspected young Marion of what they 
 called ' heresy:; But, learning that he was enamoui- 
 ed of the beautiful and accomplished Mademoiselle 
 Louisa i) Aubrey, and like to win her affections, 
 they withheld for a while, their sacred thundeis 
 hoping that through fear of them, and love of her 
 he might yet return to the bosom of the Catholic' 
 Church, to which she belon^'ed. 
 
 Young Marion's suit to his fair mistress, was for- 
 tunate to the full extent of an ardent lover's wishes 
 lie charming girl repaid his passion with such libe- 
 ral interest, that, ma short time after the commence- 
 ment of their dehcious friendship, she received him 
 for her husband, m spite of all that wealthier wooers 
 could promise, or frowning friends could threaten. 
 
 Ihe neighboring clergy now marked the conduct 
 of Marion with a keener eye ; and discoverino- i,, 
 him no symptoms that pointed to recantation, tliev 
 furiously pressed the bishop to enforce against him 
 the edict of banishment. 
 
 At this time, Marion with his lovely Louisa, were 
 living on a small farm in the vicinity of Rorhelle 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 9 
 
 As he walked one afternoon in the main street of 
 that city, he was very rudely accosted by a couple of 
 officers of the holy inquisition, whose looks and dress 
 were as dark and diabohcal as their employment. 
 
 " Vous etes nommes Marion V said they ; that is 
 "your name is Marion.'"' 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen, that is my name." 
 Upon this, they rudely thrust a letter into his hand, 
 and turned away, but with such looks as tigers throw 
 at a tender lampkin, whose well-guarded fold for- 
 bids their access. On opening the letter he found 
 as follows : 
 
 " Your damnable heresy, well deserves, even m 
 this life, that purgation by fire which awfully awaits 
 it in the next. But, in consideration of your youth 
 and worthy connexions, our mercy has condescended 
 to commute your punishment to perpetual exile. — 
 You will, therefore, instantly prepare to quit your 
 country for ever. For, if after ten days from the 
 date hereof, you should be found in any part of the 
 kingdom, your miserable body shall be consumed by 
 fire, and your impious ashes scattered on the winds 
 of heaven. 
 
 " Pere Rochelle."* 
 
 Had this dreadful letter been presented to Marion 
 even while a bachelor, it would have filled him with 
 
 * I forewarn all my friends from thinking me capable of 
 charging this vile persecuting spirit on the " Old W — e of Rome" 
 exclusively. No thank God, I have not so learned human 
 nature. And they who are yet to learn, may, by reading the 
 " Catholic Layman," soon get satisfied, that the priests are as apt 
 to abuse power as the people, and that, when " clad wiik a little brief 
 authority," protestants as well as papists, have committed those 
 cruelties which make milder devils blush. [By way of a note 
 on a note, I would observe, that the " Catholic Ijauman,^' is a very 
 sensible and spirited pamphlet; the production, it is said, of 
 Mathew Carey, Esq., bf Philadelphia, w'ho though a Roman Ca 
 tholic, has printed more protestant Bibles and Testaments than 
 half the preachers and printers in America put to°'ether.] 
 
10 THE LIFE OF 
 
 hoiTor; for the heart naturally cleaves to the r>pot 
 where it awoke into beins|, and quits, with tearfu' 
 eyes, the scenes among which were spent the first and 
 liappiest days of life. But ties stronger than tliose 
 of nature bound Marion to his country. His country 
 was the country of his Louisa. How could he live 
 without her .'' And how could he hope that she 
 would ever consent to leave her parents and friends 
 to wander and die with him in hopeless exile.'' 
 
 But though greatly dejected, yet he did not de- 
 spair. He still trusted in that parent-power who 
 smiles even under frowns, and often pours his richest 
 showers from the blackest clouds. Cheered with 
 this hope, he put the letter into his pocket, and set 
 out to seek his Louisa. 
 
 With arms fondly interlocked, she had accompa- 
 nied him that morning to the gate on the back of the 
 garden, through which he generally passed when he 
 went to Rochelle. Soon as his horse was led up, 
 and he about to mount, she snatched the bridle, and 
 laughing, vowed he should not go until he had pro- 
 mised her one thing. 
 
 " Well, charmer, what's ihut ?" 
 " Why that you \\ ill return very soon." 
 " Well, indeed I will ; so now let me go." 
 "Oh no! I am afraid that when you get out of 
 sight you will play truant. You must give me secu- 
 rity." 
 
 " Well, Louisa, what security shall I give you .^" 
 " Why you must give me that thing, .whatever it 
 be, that you hold most dear in all the world." 
 
 " Well done ! and now, Louisa, I give you your- 
 self, the dearest thing God ever gave me in all iliis 
 world." 
 
 At this her fine face was reddened all over with 
 blushing joy, while her love-sparkling eyes, beaming 
 on his, awakened that transport which those who 
 l.ave felt it would not exchancfe for worlds. 'Ihen 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. IJ 
 
 aHer the fond, lengthened kiss, and tender sigh of 
 happy lovers parting, he rode off. 
 
 Soon as he was out of her sight, she turned to go to 
 the house. As she passed along the garden, the sud- 
 den fancy struck her to adorn the summer house with 
 evergreens and flowers of the liveliest tints, and 
 there, amidst a wilderness of sweets;, to receive her 
 returning lover. Animated with this fond sugges- 
 tion of conjugal affection, (woman's true life,) which 
 at every quickened pulse diffused an answering rap- 
 ture through the virtuous breast, she commenced her 
 pleasing task ; and with her task she mingled the 
 music of her voice, clear and strong as the morning 
 lark, and sweet as from a heart full of innocence and 
 love. The pleasant sounds reached the ear of Ma- 
 rion, as he drew near the garden. Then, entering the 
 gate without noise, he walked up, unperceived, close 
 to her as she sat all alone in the arbour, binding her 
 fragrant flowers and singing the happy hours away. 
 She was singing her favorite hymn, by Madam 
 Guion. 
 
 " That love I sing, that wondrous love. 
 
 Which wak'd my sleeping clay ; 
 That spread the sky in azure bright 
 And pour'd the golden day," &c. &c. 
 
 To see youth and beauty, though in a stranger, 
 thus pointing to heaven, is delightful to a pious heart. 
 Then what rapture to an enlightened soul to see a 
 beloved wife thus communing with God, and becom- 
 ing every day more and more angelic ! 
 
 Soon as her song was finished, he called out, 
 " Louisa !" 
 
 Startled at the sudden call, she turned around to 
 the well-known voice, presenting a face on which 
 love and sweet surprise had spread those rosy 
 charms, which in a moment banished all his sorrows. 
 " My dearest Gabriel, ' she exclairaeJ, diopping hej 
 
12 THK LIFE OF 
 
 floweis, and running and throwing herself into his 
 arms, "here, take back your security' take back 
 your security ! and also my thanks for being such a 
 man of honor. But what brought you back, love, 
 so much earlier than yon expected ?" 
 
 Here the memory of that fatal letter went like a 
 dagger to his heart, bleaching his manly cheeks. 
 
 He would have evaded the question ; but in vain, 
 for Louisa, startled at the sudden paleness of his 
 looks, insisted the more earnestly to know the cause. 
 
 He delayed a moment, but conscious that the se- 
 cret must soon come out, he took the letter from his 
 pocket, and with a reluctant hand put it into hers. 
 
 Scarcely had she run through it, which she did 
 with the most devouring haste, when she let it drop 
 from her hands, and faintly articulating, " Ah, cruel 
 priest!" she fell upor. his bosom, which she bathed 
 with her tears. 
 
 After some moments of distress too big for utterance, 
 Marion, deeply sighing, at length broke silence. 
 
 " Ah, Louisa! and must we part so soon!" 
 
 At this, starting up with eyes suffused with tears 
 but beaming immortal love, she hastily replied — 
 " Part !" 
 
 " Yes!" continued he, " part ! for ever part !" 
 
 "No, Marion, no! never! never!" 
 
 " Ah ! can you, Louisa, leave father and mother, 
 and follow a poor banished husband like me ?" 
 
 " Yes — yes — father, mother, and ail the world will 
 I leave to follow thee, Marion !" 
 
 " blessed priest, I thank you ! Good bishop Ro- 
 chelle, holy father in God, I thank you — your perse- 
 cution has enriched me above princes. It has dis- 
 cnv^red t.o Doe a lU'ne of I0/2 'ij L'c; ir^'j ;s<p.;., I'lx- 
 1 mve: dreamed oi f:»eto e " 
 
 '■'■My deaiest GaOnel. J; J yo-i erer d(»ut>i u.y 
 Io7e ' 
 
 " Par'Jon me, my love, I never doubled your hn'e, 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARIO.W. 13 
 
 Oh no ! I knew you loved me. The circumstances un- 
 der which you married me gave me delicious proof 
 of that. To have preferred me to so many wealthiei 
 woers — to have taken me as a husband to the para- 
 dise of your arms, when so many others would have 
 sent me as a heretic to the purgatory of the inquisi- 
 tion, was evidence of love never to be forgotten ; but 
 that in addition to all this you should now be so 
 ready to leave father and mother, country and kin, to 
 follow me, a poor wanderer in the earth, without 
 
 even a place where to lay my head " 
 
 " Yes, yes," replied she, eagerly interrupting hira, 
 " that's the very reason I would leave all to follow 
 you. For, oh my love ! how could I enjoy father or 
 mother, country or kin, and you a wanderer in the 
 earth, without a place whereon to lay your head ! That 
 single thought would cover ray days with darkness, 
 and drive me to distraction. Bat give me your com- 
 pany, my Gabriel, and then welcome that foreign land 
 with all its shady forests ! Welcome the thatched 
 cottage and the little garden fdled with the fruits of 
 our own fondly mingled toils ! Methinks, my love, 1 
 already see that distant sun rising with gladsome 
 beams on our dew-spangled flowers. I hear the wild 
 wood-birds pouring their sprightly carols on the 
 sweet-scented morning. My heart leaps with joy to 
 their songs. Then, O my husband ! if we must go, 
 let us go without a sigh. God can order it for our 
 good. And, on my account, you shall cast no lin- 
 gering look behind. I am ready to follow you 
 wherever you go. Your God shall be my God. 
 Where you live I will live, and where you die, there 
 will I die, and will be buried by your side. Nothing 
 ray beloved, but death, shall ever part me from you." 
 " Angelic Louisa !" cried Marion, snatching her 
 to his bosom in transports — "Wondrous woman! 
 what do I not owe to God, ever blessed, for such a 
 comforter! I came just now from Rochelle with the 
 
 2 
 
14 THE Lli'K on' 
 
 load cf a mountain on my heart. You have taken off 
 that mountain, and substituted a joy most lightsome 
 and heavenly. Like a ministering angel, you have 
 confirmed me in duty ; you have ended my struggles 
 —and by so cheerfully offering to forsake all and fol- 
 low me, you have displayed a love, dear Louisa, 
 which will, I trust, render you next to my God, the 
 eternal complacency and delight of my soul." 
 
 In the midst of this tender scene, a servant came 
 running to inform Louisa that her mother, ]\Iadarae 
 D'Aubrey, had just arrived, and was coming to her 
 in the garden. This startled our lovers into a pain- 
 ful expectation of another trial. For as Louisa was 
 an only daughter, and her parents doatingly fond of 
 her, it was not to be imagined that they would give 
 her up without a hard struggle. Seeing the old lady 
 coming down the walk towards them, they endea- 
 vored to arljust their looks, and to meet her with the 
 ■wonted smile. But in vain. The tumult in their bo- 
 soms was still too visible in their looks to escape her 
 discernment. She eagerly asked the cause. Their 
 changing countenances served but to increase her 
 fears and the vehemence of her curiosity. The bi- 
 shop's letter was put into her hands. Its effects on 
 the good old lady were truly distressing. Not hav- 
 ing, like her daughter, the vigor of youth, nor the 
 fervors of love to suoport her, she was almost over- 
 come. 
 
 Soon as her spirits were a little recovered, she in- 
 sisted that her daughter and son-in-law should in- 
 stantly step into her coach and go home with her. 
 " Your father, my dear," said she to Louisa, " your 
 father, Monsieur D'Aubrey, will, I am certain, do 
 something for us." 
 
 But in this she was v.'ofully mistaken, for Mon- 
 sieur 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 nol 
 
over moral, p'ovided that man went to his church — 
 praised his preacher and opinions, and abused every 
 body 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 reli- 
 gion. And though on account of his wife's importu- 
 nities 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 dis- 
 tressed poor Louisa exceedingly. However, it had 
 this good effect : it contributed greatly to lesson her 
 regret at parting with her parents. 
 
 " had they but loved me as you do, my Marion," 
 said she, "could they have been so indifferent when 
 my a]l whs 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, out- 
 shining all diamonds, " and am I not going to leave 
 all for you ? Yet a few days and I shall have no fa- 
 ther, 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 ! ray 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 hor- 
 rid crime ! But to me such a deed were utterly im- 
 possible. I live for happiness, Louisa, I live for hap- 
 piness, my angel. And I find so much happiness in 
 
IQ itlt: Lit b Ut 
 
 loving, that I would as soon cease to live as cease to 
 love. Some indeed, sordid celebides for example, 
 seem to exist witliout love ; but it is only a seeming 
 existence, most joyless and imperfect. And they bear 
 the dulness 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 llame of bliss, that 
 methinks, were it to go out, my life would go ou^ 
 ■«.vith it. Then, ray 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 con- 
 tinue 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 de- 
 pends on me, on my constant affection and studious- 
 ness to please, you shall never love me less ; bu* 
 more and more every day of your life." 
 
 The next morning, accompanied by Madame 
 D'Aubrey, Marion and Louisa returned home in or- 
 der to make the best preparations, which the short- 
 ness of the time would allow, to quit their country 
 for ever. 
 
 In choosing his place of exile, it iias been said that 
 Marion's thoughts were at first turned towards the 
 West Indies. 13ut 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, in- 
 forming him that a large ship, chartered for the Ca- 
 rolinas, by several wealthy Huguenot families, was 
 then lying at anchor under the Isle de Rhee. Ureat- 
 fully regarding this as a beckoning from heaven, 
 they at once commenced their work, and prosecutcsd 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 17 
 
 it with such spirit, that on the evening of the ninth 
 day they embraced their weeping friends and went 
 on board the ship. v 
 
 It is said that many of the most respectable farai ) 
 lies of Carolina — the Gourdines, Hugers, TrapiersA 
 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 wheel- 
 ing 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 heaven 
 were strong in the bosoms of young Marion and his 
 Louisa, yet could they not suppress the workings of 
 nature, which would indulge her sorrows when look- 
 ing back on the lessening shores ; they beheld dwin- 
 dled to a point and trembling in the misty sky, that 
 glorious land, at once their own cradle and the se- 
 pulchre of their fathers. -n 
 ^/ Some natural tears they shed, but wiped them\ 
 /soon, for the earth was all before them where to] 
 I choose their place of rest ; and Providence their/ 
 \^^nde. ;;zcZt-o7:>.7^a^r^ ^{s'c Z^ ,'B--}. V /;_ 
 But Marion and Louisa did not leave their coun- 
 try empty handed'. Her Parents, 'tis supposed, gave 
 Louisa money, but what sum, after this long lapse of 
 time, is uncertain. Nor does tradition say for how 
 much Marion sold his little farm. But it is well known 
 • that on their arrival in Carolina, they went up into the 
 country, and bought a plantation on Goose creek, near 
 Charleston, where their dust now sleeps, after a long 
 life endeared by mutual love, and surrounded by 
 every comfort that industry and prudence can be- 
 stow. 
 
 We have said that Marion left his country for the 
 Sake of his religion : which appears to have been of 
 
 2* 
 
18 THE LIFK OF 
 
 that cheerful sort for which a wise man would make 
 any sacrifice. It was the religion of the gospel, that 
 blessed philosophy which asks not a face of gloom, but 
 a heart of joy. And thereunto enjoin a supreme love 
 of God, and a close walk with him in a pure and be- 
 nevolent life. From this, the genuine spring of all the 
 sweetest charities and joys of life, Marion derived 
 that cheerfulness which appears never to have failed 
 him. Even in his last will, where most men fancy 
 they ought to be gloomy as the grave whither they 
 are going, his cheerfulness continued to shine with 
 undiminished lustre. It was like the setting of a 
 cloudless sun : which, after pouring its fattening 
 beams on the fields of a live-long summer's day, goes 
 down in smiles to rise a brighter beauty on anotliei 
 day. This will is certainly an amiable curiosity, and 
 as it may be of service to the reader, by showing hira 
 how free and easy a good life makes a man w^ith 
 death, I will record it : at least the principal features 
 of it, as I got them from the family. 
 
 After having, in the good old way, bequeathed 
 " his soul to God who gave it," and " his body to the 
 earth out of which it was taken," he proceeds in the 
 manner following : 
 
 In the first place, as to debts, thank God, I owe 
 none. And therefore shall give ray executors but 
 little trouble on that score. 
 
 Secondly — As to the poor, I have always treated 
 them as my brethren. My dear family will, I know, 
 follow my example. 
 
 Thirdly — As to the wealth with which God has 
 been pleased to bless me and my dear Louisa and 
 children, lovingly we have labored together for it — 
 lovingly we have enjoyed it — and now, with a glad 
 and grateful heart do I leave it among them. 
 
 He then proceeds to the distribution. Liberally to 
 his children : but far more so to his wife — and a< 
 the end of each bequest assigns his reaf\ons, viz., 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 19 
 
 I give my ever beloved Louisa all my ready money — 
 
 that she may never be alarmed at a sudden call. 
 I give her all my fat calves and lambs, ray pigs and 
 
 poultry — that she may always keep a good table 
 I give her ray new carriage and horses — that she 
 
 may visit her friends in comfort. 
 I give her my family bible — that she may live above 
 
 the ill tempers and sorrows of life. 
 I give my son Peter a hornbook — for I am afraid he 
 
 v.'ill always be a dunce. 
 
 But Peter was so stung with this little squib, that 
 he instantly quit his raccoon hunting by nights, and 
 betook himself to reading, and soon became a very 
 sensible and charming young man. 
 
 His eldest son, who, after his father, was named 
 Gabriel, married a Miss Charlotte Corde, by whom 
 he had six children — Esther, Gabriel, Isaac, Benja- 
 min, Job, and our hero Francis, the least as well as 
 the last of the family. As to his sister Esther, I 
 have never heard what became of her ; but for his 
 four brothers, I am happy to state, that though not 
 formidable as soldiers, they were very amiable as 
 citizens. They bought farms — proved their oxen- 
 married wives — multiplied good children, and thus, 1 
 very unlike our niggardly bachelors, contributed al 
 liberal and laudable part to the population, strengdi,V 
 and glory of their country. God, I pray heartily, ' 
 take kind notice of all such ; and grant, that having 
 thus done his will in this world, they may partake of 
 his glory in the next. 
 
20 THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Mariiiii's first appearance — an liumble cultivator of the earth — 
 tlio great Clierokee war of 17(31 comes on — volunteers his 
 services to his country — is appointed a first lieutenant in the 
 provincial line — commands a tbrlorn hope — narrowly escapes 
 with his lil'e — the Anglo-American and the Indian forces 
 engaged — bloody battle — tiie Indians defeated — their country 
 laid waste — peace made — Marion retires. 
 
 Among the Mohawks of Sparla, it was a constant 
 practice on the birth of a male infant, to set a militar)' 
 granny to examine him, as a butcher would a veal for 
 the market, and if he were found any ways puny, he 
 was presently thrown into a horse pond with as littlo 
 ceremony as a blind puppy. Had such been the order 
 of the day in 1732, Carolina would never have 
 boasted a Marion ; for I have it from good authority, 
 that this great soldier, at his birth, was not larger 
 than a New England lobster, and might easily 
 enough have been put into a quart pot. This puny 
 appearance continued with him till the age of twelve, 
 when it was removed by the following extraordinary 
 providence. 
 
 ^ On a trip to the West Indies, which his friends put 
 him upon for his health's sake, the little schooner in 
 which he was embarked was suddenly attacked by 
 some monstrous fish, probably a thorn-back whale, 
 who gave it such a terrible stroke with his tail a.s 
 started a plank. The frightened crew flew (o their 
 pumps, but in vain ; for the briny flood rushed with 
 such fury into their vessel, that they were glad to quit 
 ner, and tumble as fast as they could into their little 
 jolly boat. The event showed that this was as but 
 a leap " oui of the frying pan into the fire i'"' for their 
 v:hooner went down so suddenly as not *o give, tliem 
 
GEN. FPANCIS MARION. 21 
 
 time to takt a mouthful of food with thorn, not even 
 so much as a brown biscuit or a pint of water. After 
 three wretched days of feverish hunger and tlurst, 
 they agreed to kill a little cabin dog who had swara 
 to them from the schooner just before she sunk. On 
 his raw flesh they feasted without restraint ; but the 
 blood they preserved with more economy, to cool 
 their parched lips. In a few days, however, their own 
 blood, for lack of cooling food, became so fiery hot 
 as to scald their brain to frenzy. About the tenth 
 day the captain and mate leaped overboard, raving 
 mad ; and the day following the two remaining sea- 
 men expired in the bottom of the boat, piteously 
 crying , to the last for water ! water! -God of his] 
 mercy forgive me, who have so often drank of that! 
 sweet beverage without grateful acknowledgments ! 
 Scarcely was this melancholy scene concluded be- 
 fore a vessel hove in sight, standing directly for the 
 boat, as if purposely sent to save the child that was 
 tossing in it on the gloomy waves. 
 
 Little Marion was so weak that he could not stir 
 hand or foot to climb up the side of the vessel. The 
 captain, however, soon had him on board ; and by 
 means of chocolate and turtle broth, sparingly given 
 him at first, recruited him so fast, that, by the time 
 he reached his native shores, he was in much better 
 health than ever. So that on his return to his 'friends, 
 it was found, as is often the case, that what was at first 
 looked on as a great misfortune, had proved a very 
 noble blessing. His constitution seemed renewed, his 
 frame commenced a second and rapid growth ; while 
 his cheeks, quitting their pale suet-colored cast, as- 
 sumed a bright and healthy olive. According to the 
 best accounts that I have been able to procure, Ma- 
 rion never thought of another trip to sea, but conti- 
 nued in his native parish, in that most independent 
 and happy of all callings, a cultivator of the earth, 
 t.ll his twenty-seventh year. 
 
22 THE LIFE OF 
 
 A report then prevailing that the Cherokee Indians! 
 were murdering the frontier settlers, Marion turned 
 out with his ritle, as a volunteer under governor Lyt- 
 tleton. The affair, however, proved to be a mere flash 
 in the pan : for the Cherokees finding that things 
 were not exactly in the train they wished, sent on a 
 deputation with their wampum belts and peace-talks 
 to bury the hatchet and brighten the old chain of 
 friendship with the whites ; and the good-natured 
 governor, thinking them sincere, concluded a treaty 
 with them. The troops of course were dismissed, 
 and Marion returned to his plantation. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had two years elapsed, before 
 the perfidious Cherokees broke out again in a fresh 
 piace, killing and driving the defenceless inhabitants 
 at a most barbarous rate. Marion instantly flew again 
 to the governor with the tender of his services to fight 
 for his afflicted countrymen. His excellency was so 
 pleased with this second instance of iMarion's patriot- 
 ism, that he gave him a first lieutenancy in the pro- 
 vincial line under the brave captain William Moul- 
 trie. The reported force and fury of the Indians 
 struck such a terror through the colony, that colonel 
 Grant (of the British) with twelve hundred regulars, 
 was ordered' out on a forced march to succor the 
 bleeding frontiers. 
 
 On their way they were joined at Ninety-six, I\Iay 
 14, 1761, by twelve hundred provincials, all men of 
 surest aim with the deadly rifle. 
 
 To draw off" the enemy from their murderous ex- 
 cursions. Col. Grant wisely determined to push the 
 war at once into their own country ; which was no 
 sooner discovered by them, than they instantly col- 
 lected their whole force to oppose him. The only " 
 passage into their country was through a dark defile 
 or gap in the mountain, which it was resolved should 
 be forced as rapidly as possible. A forlorn of thirty 
 brave fellows were ordered to explore the dangerous 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 23 
 
 pass : and Marion, though but a young lieutenunl, 
 had the honor to be appointed their leader. At the 
 Lead of his command he advanced with rapidity, 
 while the army moved on to support him. But 
 scarcely had they entered the gloomy defde, when, 
 from behind the rocks and trees, a sheet of fire sud- 
 denly blazed forth, which killed twenty-one of his 
 men ! With the remainder, he faced about and push- 
 ed back with all speed ; whereupon great numbers 
 of tall savages, frightfully painted, rushed from their 
 lurking places, and with hideous yells and uplifted 
 tomahawks, pursued and gained upon them so fast, 
 that nothing but the nearness of the advanced guard 
 saved them from destruction. The Anglo-Ameri- 
 can army then prepared themselves for a serious ana 
 bloody conflict. 
 
 An enemy in such force, so well posted, and de- 
 fending the only pass in their country, would, they 
 well knew, fight desperately. And well aware, also 
 what slaughter would follow upon their own defeat, 
 they determined to yield the victory only with their 
 lives. A long summer's day was before them, for the 
 sun had just risen above the hills, a bright spectato** 
 of the coming fight. Then, in high spirits, with jus- 
 tice on their side, and an approving conscience, they 
 cheerfully left the event to Heaven. The British were 
 formed in small corps, the more promptly to support 
 the riflemen, who led the van, and now with wide 
 extended wings began to move. In a little time they 
 came in sight of the enemy, who appeared flying 
 backwards and forwards, as if not well satisfied with 
 their ground. The provincial marksmen then rapidly 
 advancing, flew each to his tree, and the action began. 
 Fiom wing to wing, quite across the defile, the woods 
 appeared as if all on fire ; while the incessant crash 
 of small arms tortured the ear like claps of sharpest 
 thunder. The muskets of the British, like their native 
 bull-dogs, kept up a dreadful roar, but scarcely did 
 
24 THli LIFE OF 
 
 more than bark the trees, or cut of!" tht branches above 
 the heads of the Indians. While, with far less noise, 
 the fatal rilles continued to lessen the numbers of the 
 enemy. The action was kept up with great spirit for 
 nearly two hours, during which the superiority of the 
 American riflemen was very remarkably displayed. 
 For in that time they lost only fifiy-one — whereas of 
 the Indians there fell one hundred and three, whioli 
 so disheartened them that they fled and gave up their 
 country to the conquerors, who prepared immedi- 
 ately to enter it. 
 
 Colonel Grant had hoped to surprise their towns, 
 but concluding that their swift-footed runners had 
 given the alarm, he moved on in slow marches 
 through the wilderness towards the settlements, 
 thinking that by the destruction of their towns and 
 corn-fields he should drive them into a disposition 
 for peace. 
 
 Marion often spoke of this part of the war, as of a 
 transaction which he remembered with sorrow. " We 
 arrived," said he, in a letter to a friend, "at the Indian 
 towns in the month of July. As the lands were rich 
 and the season had been favorable, the corn was 
 bending under the double weight of lusty roasting 
 ears and pods of clustering beans. The furrows 
 seemed to rejoice under their precious loads — the 
 fields stood thick with bread. We encamped the first 
 night in the woods, near the fields, where the whole 
 army feasted on the young corn, which, with fat ven- 
 ison, made a most delicious treat. 
 
 " The next morning we proceeded by order of colo- 
 nel Grant, to burn down the Indians cabins. Some of 
 our men seemed to enjoy this cruel work, laughing 
 very heartily at the curling llamcs, a-s they mounted 
 loud crackling over the tops of the huts. But to me 
 it appeared a shoking sight. Poor creatures ! thought 
 I, we surely need not grudge you such miserable 
 habitations. But when we came, according to orders. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 25 
 
 to cut down the fields of corn, I could scarcely refrain 
 from tears. For who could see the stalks that stood 
 so stately with broad green leaves and gaily tasseled 
 shocks, filled with sweet milky fluid and flour, the 
 staff' of life ; who, I say, without grief, could see 
 these sacred plants sinking under our swords with 
 all their precious load, to wither and rot untasted in 
 their mourning fields.'' 
 
 " I saw every where around the footsteps of the 
 little Indian children, where they had lately played 
 under the shade of their rustling corn. No doubt 
 they had often looked up with joy to the swelling 
 shocks, and gladdened when they thought of their 
 abundant cakes for the coming winter. When we 
 are gone, thought I, they will return, and peeping 
 through the weeds with tearful eyes, will mark the 
 ghastly ruin poured over their homes and happy 
 fields, where they had so often played. 
 
 " ' Who did this?' they will ask their mothers. 
 "' The white people did it;' the mothers reply j 
 * the christians did it !' 
 
 " Thus for cursed Mammon's sake, the followers 
 of Christ have sown the hellish tares of hatred in the 
 bosoms even of pagan children." 
 
 The reader will, however, with pleasure remember 
 that these were the dark deeds chiefly of a kingly 
 government. A gloomy monarch, three thousand 
 miles distant, and rolling in all the pomps and plea- 
 sures of three millions of dollars per annum, could 
 hardly be supposed to know what was passing in the 
 American wilds ; but Washington had known. With 
 bleeding heart he had often beheld the red and white 
 men mingling in bloody fight. The horrors ot the 
 cruel strife dwelt upon his troubled thoughts; and 
 soon as God gave him power, (as prf-sidknt of in- 
 dependent America,) he immediately adopted that 
 better system which he had learnt from the gospel. 
 His successors, Adams, Jefferson, and Madison, 
 
 3 
 
26 THE LIFE OF 
 
 have piously pursued his plan. In place of the toma- 
 hawk, the plough-share is sent to the poor Indians — 
 goods qre furnished them at first cost — letters and 
 morals are taught among: their tribes — and the soul 
 of humanity is rejoiced to see the red and white men 
 meet together like brothers. 
 
 By this god-like policy, the United States have 
 not only saved an immensity of blood and treasure, 
 but are rapidly adding to the population and strength 
 of the country. 
 
 Now to return to Marion's letter. — " After burn- 
 ing twenty towns, and destroying thousands of corn- 
 fields,* the army returned to Koewee, where the 
 Lif.tie Carpenter, a Cherokee chief, met colonel Grant 
 and concluded a peace." The troops were then dis- 
 banded : and Marion returned to his plantation in 
 St. John's parish, where, with a few well-fed slaves, 
 he continued to till his parental acres, occasionally 
 amusing himself with his gun and fishing rod, of 
 wdiich he was always very fond. 
 
 • To this day the Indians cannol bear the name of colonel 
 Grant; and whenever ihey see a drove of horses deslroyiiig a 
 corn-field, they call out "Grant. Grant ." 
 
OEN. FRANCIS MARION. 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 War between England and America — Marion appointed a cap- 
 tain in the Second South Carolina regiment — goes with the 
 author on the recruiting service — curious anecdote of lieut. 
 Charnock and captain Johnson — some melancholy and me- 
 morable relations. 
 
 Mariox continued to tread the peaceful and plea 
 sant walks of life, as above, till the beginning of 
 May, 1775, when, by a vessel direct from Boston, 
 news was brought of the gallant battle of Lexington. 
 Instantly the whole town and country were in a tlame 
 for war, and the legislature being purposely convened, 
 hastened to meet the wishes of the people, who were 
 clamorous for raising two regiments for the service. 
 
 On balloting for officers, Marion's ticket came out 
 for a captaincy in the second regiment, under com- 
 mand of the brave William MouUrie. In a little time 
 my name was called out as a captain, also, in the same 
 regiment with Marion, This to me, was matter of 
 great joy, as I had long courted the friendship of 
 Marion. For though he was neither handsome, nor 
 witty, nor wealthy, yet he was universally beloved. 
 The fairness of his character — his fondness for his 
 relations — his humanity to his slaves — and his 
 bravery in the Indian war, had made him the darling 
 of the country. It is not, therefore, to be wondered 
 at, that I should have taken such a liking to Marion, 
 but why he should have conceived such a partiality 
 for me, that's the question. But it is no business of 
 mine to solve it. However, very certain it is, that 
 on the first moment of our acquaintance, there was 
 something in his eyes and looks towards me which 
 led me to think there must be truth in the old saying 
 of " people's falling in love at first sight." And 
 when it is considered, that strong attachments gene- 
 
28 'i HE LIFE OK 
 
 rally spring from congenialities, I must confess, that 
 the warm and constant tYiendship of Marion has evei 
 appeared to me exceedingly flattering. 
 
 But to return to my narrative. — Our commissions 
 as captains, were soon made out, and signed by the 
 council of safety, the 21st of June, 1775. As we 
 were a couple of flaming patriots, we could not bear 
 to be idle a single moment — marching, fighting, kill- 
 ing, and taking prisoners, was all that we could think 
 or talk of. But as all this fine sport could not be 
 carried on without men, nor men to be had without 
 recruiting ; recruiting, of course, appeared to be the 
 first act and prologue of our play. 
 
 " But what shall we do for money, captain Ma- 
 rion ?" said I. 
 
 " Why," replied he, " we must get it from the 
 assembly." 
 
 The assembly was accordingly applied to, but alas ! 
 " could not help us to a single dollar!" 
 
 I wonder whether posterity will ever muster fiiith 
 to believe that the grey heads of South Carolina, 
 without a penny in poi^ket, ventured to war with 
 Great Britain, the nation of the longest purse in Eu- 
 .rope ? Surely it was of him who pitted young David 
 with his maiden sling and pebbles against the giant 
 Goliah. 
 
 But though the poverty of the legislature was 
 enough to have thrown a damp on spirits of ordinary 
 heat, yet to a flaming zeal like ours, it only served as 
 water on a fiery furnace, to make it blaze the fiercer. 
 
 " Why truly, Horry !" said Marion, " this looks 
 unpromising, but we must not mind it my hero, I'll 
 tell you what — if the assembly can't help us, we 
 must e'en help ourselves! So come let us try what 
 we can do on our own credit." 
 
 " With all my heart," I replied. 
 
 So away went we to borrow money of our friends 
 in Charleston ; I mean hard money. And hard 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARIO.N. 29 
 
 money it was indeed. The gold and silver all ap- 
 peared as if it had caught the instinct of water- 
 witches, diving at the first flash of the war, to the 
 bottom of misers' trunks and strong boxes. For two 
 whole days, and with every effort we could make, 
 we collected but the pitiful sum of one hundred dol- 
 lars! However, fully resolved that nothing should! 
 stop us, we got our regimentals the next morning; 
 from the tailor's, and having crammed our saddle-' 
 bags with some clean shirts, a stout luncheon of 
 bread and cheese, and a bottle of brandy, we mount- 
 ed, and with hearts light as young lovers on a court- j 
 ing scheme, we dashed off to recruit our companies. 
 Our course was towards Georgetown, Black River, 
 and Great Pedee. Fortune seemed to smile on our 
 enterprise ; for by the time we reached Pedee, we 
 had enlisted thirty-seven men, proper tall fellows, to 
 whom we gave furloughs of two days to settle their 
 affairs, and meet us at the house of a Mr. Bass, 
 tavern-keeper, with whom we lodged. I should 
 have told the reader, that we had with us, a very 
 spirited young fellow by the name of Charnock, who 
 was my lieutenant. 
 
 On the second day, a captain Johnson of the militia, 
 came to Bass's, and took lieutenant Charnock aside, " 
 and after prattling a great deal to him about the 
 " cursed hardship," as he was pleased to call it, " of 
 kidnapping poor clodhoppers at this rate,'' he very 
 cavalierly offered him a guinea for himself, and a half 
 joe a-piece for Marion and me to let the recruits go. 
 Never did a poor silly puppy more completely take 
 the wrong sow by the ear, than did Mr. captain John- 
 son, in thus tampering with lieutenant Charnock. For 
 Charnock, though remarkably good naturned and po- 
 lite among men of honor, could not bear the least 
 approach of any thing that looked like rascality. Im- 
 mediately, therefore, on hearing this infamous pro 
 position, he brought Johnson into the dining room 
 
30 '^'HE LIFE OF 
 
 where Marion and myself were sitting, and, in his 
 presence, told us the whole affair. 
 
 Oh that my young countrymen could all have been 
 there, that they might have seen what a pale trem- 
 bling, pitiful figure a detected rascal makes! I am 
 sure they could never have lost that blessed moment's 
 impression in favor of truth and honor. 
 
 After much swallowing, Johnson, however, at last, 
 got the better of his conscience, and came on with a 
 stout denial of the fact. Whereupon Charnock, 
 ■-«/ snatching a pair of pistols, ordered him to take one 
 and fight him on the spot. This being refused, the 
 furious lieutenant instantly fell upon him with a cane. 
 Sensible that Johnson had very richly deserved this 
 ignominious chastisement, we gave him up to Char- 
 nock, who thrashed him very soundly, until, falling 
 on his knees, he roared out for quarter. Charnock 
 then ordered him to be gone, but with the severest 
 threats in case the recruits were not forthcoming at 
 the appointed time. 
 
 On the morrow they came, and " let the cat out 
 of the bag." It appeared then, that that most worth- 
 less fellow, Johnson, had told the poor simple recruits 
 such dreadful stories about the war, that in their 
 fright they had offered him all their cows and calves 
 to get them off"! 
 
 Our success in the recruiting business far exceeded 
 our expectations, for in a very short time we made 
 up our full complement of sixty men each. I have 
 often lamented it as a most serious misfortune that 
 we did not enlist for the war. I am certain we could 
 as easily have enlisted for the war as for six months. 
 We should then have had a host of veterans, masters 
 of their dreadful art, inured to hardships, scorni\d of 
 ianger, and completely able to purge our country 
 «f her cruel invaders. 
 
 As a place of greater security from the enemy's 
 vessels, Dorchester had been pitched on as a deposits 
 
GEN FRANCIS MARION. 31 
 
 for ammunition and military stores, and put under a 
 guard of militia. But fearing that the tories might 
 rise upon this slender force and take away our pow- 
 der, an article, at that time, of incalculable value, the 
 council of safety advised to add a company of regu 
 lars, under some brave and vigilant officer. Marion 
 had the honor to be nominated to the command, and, 
 on the 19th of November, 1775, marched to the post, 
 where he continued, undisturbed by the tories, until 
 Christmas, when he was ordered down to Charleston 
 to put fort Johnson in a state of defence. 
 
 About this time an aflair happened in Charleston, 
 which filled with horror all who witnessed it. Cap- 
 tain Fuller, of the second regiment, a gentleman in 
 other respects very amiable and exemplary, gave'/ 
 himself up to bard drinking, and to such an excess 
 as brought on an inflammation in the brain. In this 
 frantic state, with wild rolling eyes, and a face shock- 
 ingly bloated and red, he would behave for all the 
 world as if he were leading his men into action. 
 " Come on, my brave fellows," he would cry, " now 
 be cool and steady — reserve your fire till 1 say the 
 word: — now give it to them, my heroes — hurra, they 
 run, they run. I thank you, my lads, for your gal 
 lantry in your country's cause." 
 
 All this time the sweat would roll in torrents down 
 his cheeks. Then, quite exhausted, he would fall 
 on his knees, and with clasped hands, and eyes 
 lifted to heaven, would pronounce the Lord's Prayer 
 and the creed in the most moving manner. For 
 several days the soldiers gathered around him while 
 thus employed: and often with tears in their eyes, 
 would observe the total ruin which intemperance had 
 brought upon this once elegant young gentleman. — ■ 
 His friends in the country, hearing of his deplorable 
 condition, came and took him home, where death 
 soon put an end to all his miseries. 
 
 In a short time after this, our regiment was de 
 
32 THE LIFE OF 
 
 prived of another very genteel young officer, lieu- 
 tenant Perrineau ; who also fell an early sacrifice to 
 >y that most shameful and detestable practice of morn 
 ing slings and mid-day draughts of strong grog. 
 
 After these two tragedies, the reader will not, I 
 hope, be displeased with the following farce, which 
 was acted in fort Johnson, while Marion was repair- 
 ing it, in January, 1776. The principal actors in it, 
 were captain Marion, and a young lieutenant, whose 
 name, delicacy, yet a while, bids me suppress. This 
 officer, thougli in his person as handsome as Absalom, 
 or the blooming Adonis, was as destitute of soul as 
 a monkey. He appeared to have no idea above that 
 of dress and diversion: and provided he could but 
 compass his own little pitiful ends, which were 
 always of the sensual sort, he cared not how shame- 
 fully he prevaricated and lied, but would wink, and 
 grin, and chuckle, as if he had done some great thing. 
 He had ser/ed under a score of captains, who had 
 all spoken of him as a slippery, worthless fellow, 
 whom they knew not what to do with. But though 
 most heartily despised, the fool had the vanity to 
 think himstjf amazingly clever ; and actually boasted 
 to me one nay, that he would soon let me see how 
 far he was over my famous captain Marion's speed. 
 Presently he hears that there is to be, next wetk, a 
 great cock- light at Dorchester. Instantly his child- 
 ish spirits are all on a fever to see the cock-fight. 
 " Oh heavens! he would not miss the cock-fight for 
 the woild !" But how to obtain leave of absence 
 from the fort at this busy time, was the rub ; how- 
 ever, for such means as he was capable of using, an 
 invention like his could not long be at a loss. In 
 <5hort, he went to Marion, with a doleful face, and in 
 piteous accents, stated that his father, an excellent 
 old man as ever son was blessed with, was at his las* 
 t'Hsp, and only wanted to see him before he died. 
 The generous Marion, not suspecting that so 
 
GEN FRANCIS MARION. 3'J 
 
 goodly an outside could cover such falsehood, did 
 not wait to hear the coming petition, but instantly 
 granted his wish, unheard — " To be sure, lieutenant 
 go, by all means, go and wait upon your father ; but 
 return as soon as possible, for you see how much we 
 have to do." 
 
 The lieutenant affected to be quite overcome with 
 Marion's generosity, and swore he would be back in 
 two days, or at farthest in three. As he stepped 
 along by rae, he thrust his tongue into his cheek, and 
 looked prodigiously arch, as if he had achieved a 
 grand exploit. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, I told Marion I suspect- 
 ed it was all a trick. And so it turned out ; for in- 
 stead of hurrying off, as he had pretended, to see his 
 dying father, he slipt over to Charleston, where, for 
 fear of being seen by any of our officers, he skulked 
 about in the lower lanes and alleys until it was lime 
 to go up to the cock-fight at Dorchester. 
 
 At length after a fortnight's absence, he came over 
 to the fort, and entering the marquee, where Marion 
 was sitting with his officers, he began to bow and 
 scrape. As if not perceiving him, Marion turned 
 his head another way. The lieutenant then, exceed- 
 ingly embarrassed, came out with his apology, — " I 
 am sorry, sir, to have outstayed my time so long ; 
 but — but I could not help it — but now I am returned 
 to do my duty." 
 
 Marion turned very quickly upon him, and with 
 a most mortifying neglect, said, " Aye, lieutenant, 
 is that you.'' Well, never mind it — there is no harm 
 done — I never missed you." 
 
 The poor lieutenant was so completely cut up, that 
 he could not say a word, but sneaked off, hanging 
 down his head, and looked much more like a detect- 
 ed swindler than a gentleman soldier. 
 
 The officers, who were all prodigiously pleased 
 with nis confusion, presently went out and began to 
 
THE LIFE OF 
 
 rally hirn — " Ah, ha, lieutenant, and so the captain 
 has given you a set down." 
 
 " A set down," replied he, very angrily, " a set 
 down, do you call it! I had rather a thousand tunes 
 V he had knocked me down — ffti ugly, cross, knock- 
 kneed, hook-nosed son of a b-t-h !" 
 
 The officers almost split their sides with laughing. 
 The story soon took wind ; and the poor lieutenant 
 did not hear the last of it for many a day. I have 
 often heard him say, that nothing ever so completely 
 confounded him, as did that dry, cutting speech of 
 Marion. 
 
 " I was never at a loss before," said he, " to man- 
 age all other officers that were ever set over me. 
 As for our colonel, (meaning Moultrie) he is a line, 
 honest, good-natured old buck. But I can wind him 
 round my finger like a pack thread. But as for the 
 stern, keen-eyed Marion, I dread him." 
 
 The truth is, Marion wished his officers to be gen- 
 tlemen. And whenever he saw one of them acting 
 below that character, he would generously attempt 
 his reformation. And few men, perhaps, ever knew 
 better how to manage truants from duty. 
 
 To a coarse, conceited chap, like our lieutenant, 
 Marion gave no quarter, but checked him at once, 
 but still in a way that was quite gentlemanly, and 
 ■ calculated to overawe. He kept him at arms' length — 
 look no freedoms with him — nor allowed any — and 
 when visited on business, he would receive and treat 
 him with a formality sufficient to let him see that all 
 was not right. 
 
 The effect of such management evinced the cor- 
 rectness of Marion's judgment. The young lieuten- 
 ant became remarkably polite, and also attentive to 
 duty. In short, no subaltern behaved better. And 
 this very happy change in his manners, was soon 
 succeeded by as pleasing a change in the sentiments 
 of all around him. The officers of the /'^giment greAV 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 35 
 
 fond of him — Marion spoke of him with pleasure, as 
 an excellent soldier — and he of Marion, as his best 
 friend. 
 
 This is sufficient to show the truth of the remark 
 made bj Aristotle — " that there is no art so difficult 
 and godlike as that of managing men to their own 
 happiness and glory." 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 1 ne clouds of danger darker and darker — two additional reg^i- 
 ments raised — Marion promoted to a majority — fort Moultrie 
 built — A British fleet and army invade Carolina — grand pre- 
 parations to receive them — admirable patriotism of the 
 Charleston ladies — heavy attack on fort Moultrie — glorious 
 defei\ce of the garrison. 
 
 The cloud of war growing still darker and darker 
 every day, the council of safety determined to raise 
 a regiment of artillery, and another of infantry. In 
 consequence of this, several of the officers of the 
 former regiments were promoted. Among these was 
 my friend Marion, who from the rank of captain, was 
 raised to a majority. His field of duties became, of 
 course, much more wide and difficult, but he seemed 
 to come forward to the discharge of them with the 
 familiarity and alertness of one who, as general 
 Moultrie used to say, was born a soldier. In fact, he 
 appeared never so happy, never so completely in his 
 element, as when he had his officers and men out on 
 parade at close training. And for cleanliness of per- 
 son, neatness of dress, and gentlemanly manners, 
 with celerity and exactness in performing their evo- 
 lutions, they soon became the admiration and praise 
 both of citizens and soldiers. And indeed I am not 
 
56 THE LIFE OF 
 
 afraid to say that Marion was the architect of the 
 second regiment, and laid the foundation of that ex- 
 cellent discipline and confidence in themselves, which 
 gained them such reputation whenever they were 
 brought to face their enemies. 
 
 In March, 1776, I was sent over with my com 
 pany, to Sullivan's island, to prevent the landing of 
 the British from the men-of-war, the Cherokee and 
 Tamar, then lying in Rebellion road. I had not been 
 long on that station, before Col. Moultrie came over 
 with his whole regiment to erect a fort on the island. 
 
 The truth is, the governor had of late become con- 
 foundedly afraid of a visit from the British. The 
 great wealth in Charleston must, he thought, by this 
 time, have' set their honest fingers to itching — and 
 we also suspected that they could hardly be ignorant 
 what a number of poor deluded gentlemen, called 
 lories, we had among us. 
 
 The arrival of colonel Moultrie, with the second 
 regiment, afforded me infinite satisfaction. It brought 
 me once more to act in concert with Marion. 'Tis 
 true, he had got one grade above me in the line of 
 preferment ; but, thank God, I never minded that. I 
 loved Marion, and " /oi't?," as every body knows 
 " envieth not.^'' We met like brothers. I read in his 
 looks the smiling evidence of his love towards me : 
 and I felt the strongest wish to perpetuate his par- 
 tiality. Friendship was gay within my heart, and 
 tlienceforth all nature without put on her lovliesl 
 aspects. The island of sand no longei seemed a 
 dreary waste. Brighter rolled the blue waves of 
 ocean beneath the golden beam ; and sweeter mur- 
 mured the billows on their sandy beach. My heart 
 rejoiced with the playful fishes, as they leaped high 
 wantoning in the air, or, with sudden ilounce, return- 
 ed aiiain, wild darting throudi their lucid element. 
 Our work went on in joy. The palmetto trees were 
 brought to us by the blacks, in large mfts^ of which 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 3T 
 
 we constructed, for our fort, an immense pen, two 
 hundred feet long, and sixteen feet wide, filled with 
 sand to stop the shot. For our platforms, we had 
 two-inch oak planks, nailed down with iron spikes. 
 With glad hearts we then got up our carriages and 
 mounted our guns, of which twelve were 18 pound- 
 ers — twelve 24's, and twelve French 36's, equal to 
 English 42's. 
 
 A general joy was spread over the faces of our regi- 
 ment, as we looked along our battery of thimderers. 
 
 But our glorifying, under God, was chiefly in our 
 hoo and forty pounders. And indeed their appear- 
 ance was terrible, where they lay with wide Cerbe- 
 rean mouths, hideously gaping over the roaring 
 waves, and threatening destruction to the foes of 
 liberty. 
 
 They were soon called to a trial of their metal. — 
 For on the 31st of May, while we were all busily 
 driving on with our fort, suddenly a cry was heard, 
 " a fleet ! a fleet ^ ho .'" Looking out to sea, we all at 
 once beheld, as it were, a wilderness of ships, hang- 
 ing, like snow-white clouds from the north-east sky. 
 It was the sirs Parker and Clinton, hastening on with 
 nine ships of war and thirty transports, bearing three 
 thousand land forces, to attack Charleston. 
 
 Such an armament was an awful novelty, that pro- 
 duced on us all a momentary flutter ; but, thank God, 
 no serious fear. On the contrary, it was very visi- 
 ble in every glowing cheek and sparkling eye, as we 
 looked, laughing^ on one another, that we considered 
 the approaching conflict as a grand trial of courage, 
 which we rather desired than dreaded. And to their 
 equal praise, our gallant countrymen in Charleston, 
 as we learned daily, by the boats, were all in fine 
 spirits, and constantly making their best preparations 
 to receive the enemy. And still my pen trembles in 
 my hand ; even after this long lapse of time, it trem- 
 bles with won'ler and delight, to tell of that immor- 
 
 4 
 
38 THE LIFE OF 
 
 tal fire, which in those perilous days, glowed m the 
 bosoms of the Charleston fair. Instead of gloomy 
 sadness and tears, for the dark cloud that threatened 
 their city, they wore the most enlivening looks — 
 constantly talked the boldest language of patriotism 
 — animated their husbands, brothers, and lovers to 
 fight bravely — and, for themselves, they vowed they 
 would " never live the slaves of Britain.'''' Some peo- 
 ple in our days, may not believe me, when I add of 
 these noble ladies, that they actually begged leave of 
 their commandant, to let them ''''fight by the sides of 
 their relatives and friends.^'' This, though a glorious 
 request, was absolutely refused them. For who 
 could bear to see the sweet face of beauty rough- 
 ened over with the hard frowns of war ; or, the war- 
 rior's musket, on those tender bosoms, formed of 
 heaven only to pillow up the cheeks of happy hus- 
 bands, and of smiling babes? 
 
 But though the spirits of the ladies were willing, 
 their nerves were weak ; for when the British ships 
 of war hove in sight, opposite to the town, they all 
 went down to the shore to view them. And then 
 strong fear, like the cold wind of autumn, struck their 
 tender frames with trembling, and bleached their 
 rosy cheeks. Some, indeed, of the younger sort, af- 
 fected to laugh and boast ; but the generality re- 
 turned silent and pensive, as from a funeral, hanging 
 their lovely heads, like rows of sickly jonquils, when 
 the sun has forsaken the garden, and faded nature 
 mourns his departed beams. Sisters were often sci-n 
 to turn pale and sigh, when they looked on their 
 youthful brothers, while tender mothers, looking 
 down on their infant cherubs at the brea.st, let drop 
 their pearly sorrows, and exclaimed, " happy the 
 V)ombs that bear not, and the paps that give no i-uc/c." 
 
 In consequence of a most extraordinary continuation 
 of calms, baflling winds, and neap tides, the enemy's 
 ships never got within our bar till the 27th of .June 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. - 39 
 
 &nd on the following morn, the memorable 28th, the} 
 weighed anchor on the young flood, and before a fine 
 breeze, with top gallant sails, royals, and sky scrapers 
 all drawing, came bearing up for the fort like floating 
 mountains. 
 
 The anxious reader must not suppose that we were 
 standing all this while, with finger in mouth, idly 
 gaping like children on a raree show. No, by the 
 Living ! but, fast as they neared us, we still kept ou! 
 thunders close bearing upon them, like infernal point 
 ers at a dead set ; and as soon as they were come 
 within point blank shot, we clapped our matches and 
 gave them a tornado of round and double-headed 
 bullets, which made many a poor Englishman's head 
 ache. Nor were they long in our debt, but letting 
 go their anchors and clewing up their sails, which 
 they did in a trice, they opened all their batteries, and 
 broke loose upon us with a roar as if heaven and 
 earth had been coming together. 
 
 Such a sudden burst of flame and thunder, could 
 not but make us feel very queer at first, especially as 
 we were young hands, and had never been engaged 
 in such an awful scene before. But a few rounds 
 presently brought us all to rights again, and then, 
 with heads bound up, and stripped to the buff, we 
 plied our bull-dogs like heroes. 
 
 The British outnumbered us in men and guns, at 
 least three to one, but then our guns, some of them 
 at least, were much the heaviest, carrying balls of 
 two and forty pounds weight ! and when the mon- 
 sters, crammed to the throat with chained shot and 
 infernal fire, let out, it was with such hideous peals 
 as made both earth and ocean tremble. At one time 
 it appeared as though, by a strange kind of accident, 
 all their broad-sides had struck us at once, which 
 made the fort tremble again. But our palraettoes 
 stood the fire to a miracle, closed up without sign of 
 splinter, on their shot, which was stopped by the in- 
 
40 TIIE LIFE OF 
 
 termediate sa,ntl ; while, on the other iiand, every 
 bullet that we fired, went through and through their 
 shijis, smashing alike sailors, timber heads, and iron 
 anchors, in their furious course. And thus was the 
 order of our battle — there, a line of seven tall ships ; 
 and here, one little, solitary fort — there, British dis- 
 cipline ; and here, American enthusiasm — there, 
 brave men fighting for a tyrant; and here, heroes 
 contending for liberty. I am old now, and have for- 
 gotten many things, but never shall I forget the 
 heart-burnings of that day, when I heard the blast of 
 those rude cannon, that bade me be a slave ; and still 
 my aged bosom swells with the big joy when I hear, 
 which I often do in fancy's ear, tlie answer of our 
 faithful bull-dogs, as with deafening roar, lurid llame 
 and smoke, they hurled back their iron curses ontiie 
 wicked claim. But alas! for lack of ammunition, our 
 opening victory was soon nipped like a luckless 
 flower, in the bud : for the contest had hardly lasted 
 an hour, before our powder was so expended that we 
 were obliged, in a great measure, to silence our guns, 
 which was matter of infinite mortification to us, both 
 because of the grief it gave our friends, and the high 
 triumph it aiibrded our enemies. " Powder ! Powder ! 
 millions for powder P^ was our constant cry. Oh! 
 had we but had plenty of that noisy kill-seed, as the 
 Scotchmen call it, not one of those tall ships would 
 ever have revisited Neptune's green dominion. They 
 must inevitably have struck, or laid their vast hulks 
 along-side the fort, as hurdles for the snail-loving 
 sheep^s heads. Indeed, small as our stock of ammu- 
 nition was, we made several of their ships look like 
 scives, and smell like slaughter pens. The commo- 
 dore's ship, the Bristol, hacl fifty men killed, and up- 
 wards of one hundred wounded ! 
 
 The laurels of the second regiment can never fade 
 — the destructive effect of their fire gave glorious 
 proof, that they loaded and levelled their pieces like 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 41 
 
 men who wished every shot to tell. They all fought 
 like veterans ; but the behavior of some was gal- 
 lant beyond compare ; and the humble names of Jas- 
 per and M'Donald shall be remembered, when those 
 of proud kings shall be forgotten. 
 
 A ball from the enemy's ships carried away our 
 flag-staff. Scarcely had the stars of liberty touched 
 the sand, before Jasper flew and snatched them up 
 and kissed them with great enthusiasm. Then 
 having fixed them to the point of his spontoon, he 
 leaped up on the breast-work amidst the storm and 
 fury of the battle, and restored them to their daring 
 station — waving his hat at the same time and huzza- 
 ing, " God save liberty and my country for ever !^'' 
 
 As to sergeant M'Donald, while fighting like a 
 hero, at his gun, a cannon ball came in at the port 
 hole, and mangled him miserably. As he was borne 
 off, he lifted his dying eyes, and said to his comrades, 
 " Huzza, my brave Jellows, Idle, but donH let the cause 
 of liberty die with me.'''' 
 
 The effect of our last gun, and which happened to 
 be fired by Marion, is too remarkable to be lost. It 
 was his lot that day to command the left wing of the 
 fort, v/here many of our heaviest cannon were plant- 
 ed. As from lack of powder, we were obliged to 
 fire very slow, Marion would often level the guns 
 himself. And now comes my story. — Just after sun- 
 set the enemy's ships ceased firing, and slipping their 
 cables, began to move off. Pleased with the event, 
 an officer on the quarter deck of the Bristol man-of- 
 war, called out to his comrade, " Well, d — nmy eyes^ 
 Frank, the play is over ! so let's go below and hob nob 
 to a glass of wine, for I am devilish dry .'" 
 
 " With all my heart, Jackf^ replied the other; so 
 down they whipped into the cabin, where the wine 
 and glasses had been standing all day on the table 
 At that moment, one of our two and forty poundeis 
 being just loaded, Marion called to colonel Moultrie, 
 
 4* • 
 
42 THE LIFE OF 
 
 and asketl him if it would not be well enough to give 
 them the last blow. " Fes," replied Moultrie, ^^ give 
 them the parti)ig kick.^^ 
 
 Marion clapped the match, and away, in thunder 
 and lightning went the ball, which, entering the cabin 
 windows, shattered the two young friends : thence 
 raging through the bulk-heads and steerage, it shiver- 
 ed throe sailors on the main deck, and, after all, 
 *)ursting tliro-ugh the forecastle into the sea, sunk 
 with sullen joy to the bottom. 
 
 We got this story from five British seamen, who 
 ran off with the Bristol's long boat, and came and 
 joined us that very night. 
 
 The next day, that noble whig, Mr. William l^ogan, 
 sent us a cowple of fat beeves and a ho,gshead of rum, 
 " to refresh us,^' as he was pleased to say, " after our 
 hard day's loork/^ And on the second day after the 
 action, the governor and council, with numbers of the 
 great ladies and gentlemen of Charleston, came over 
 to the fort to visit us. We all put on our " best bibs 
 and tuckers,''^ and paraded at the water's edge to re- 
 ceive them, which we did with a spa /iking feu de joi^ 
 and were not a little gratified with their attentions 
 and handsome compliments paid us, for what they 
 politely termed " our gallant defence of our country.^' 
 
 And indeed to see the looks of our poor soldiers, 
 when those great ladies, all glittering in silks and 
 jewels, and powdered and perfumed so nice, would 
 come up to them, with fiices like angels, sparkling and 
 smiling so sweet, as if they would kiss them ; I say, 
 to see the looks of our poor fellows, their awkward 
 bows and broad grins, and other droll capers they cnty 
 no human being could have refrained from laughing. 
 
 Presently that excellent lady, Mrs. Colonel Elliot 
 (of the artillery,) came forward and presented us with 
 a most superb pair of colors, embroidered with gold 
 and silver by her own lily-white hands. 
 
 They were delivered, If I mistake not, to the brave 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 43 
 
 sergeant Jasper, who smiled when he took them, and 
 vowed he " would never give them up hut with his 
 life:' 
 
 Poor fellow ! he too soon made good his promise, 
 near the fatal walls of Savannah. 
 
 But it was not the ladies alone that were attentive 
 to us, for that great man, governor Rutledge, in pre- 
 sence of the regiment, took the sword from his side, 
 and with his own noble hand presented it to sergeant 
 Jasper. He also offered him a commission on the 
 spot ; but this, Jasper absolutely refused. " I am 
 greatly obliged to you, governor," said he, " but I 
 had rather not have a commission. As I am, I pass 
 very well with such company as a poor sergeant has^ 
 any right to keep. If I were to get a commission, I 
 should be forced to keep higher company ; and then,^ 
 as I don't know how to read, I should only be throw- 
 ing myself in a way to be laughed at !" Parents, \ 
 who can waste on grog and tobacco, that precious 
 money you ought to educate your children with, 
 think of this' 
 
44 THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Governor Rutlcilge harrang'ucs the Troops — shows Britain's in- 
 justice to have been the cause of the American war — inde- 
 pendence declared — great joy on that account. 
 
 On the 20th of September, 1776, all the troops in 
 Charleston were ordered to rendezvous without the 
 gates of the city, to hear, as we were told, " Some 
 great news." Soon as we were paraded, governor 
 Rutledge ascended a stage, and in the forcible man- 
 ner of a Demosthenes, informed, that Congress had 
 dissolved all relation with England, by an open De- 
 claration of Independence. 
 
 " You are, no doubt, gentlemen," said he, " sur- 
 prised, and perhaps shocked at this intelligence. But 
 however painful this measure may be to our feelings, 
 it is absolutely necessary to our safety. 
 
 " Under the sacred name of ' mother country, 
 England has long been working our ruin. I need not 
 tell you that our fathers were Britons, who for liber- 
 ty's sake, came and settled in this country, then a 
 howling wilderness. For a long time they ate theit 
 bread, not only embittered with sweat, but ot'ten stain- 
 ed with blood — their own and the blood of their chil- 
 dren, fighting the savages for a dwelling place. At 
 length they prevailed and found a rest. But still their 
 hearts were towards the place of their nativity ; and 
 often with tears, did they think and talk of the white- 
 clifted island where their fathers dwelt. Dying, they 
 bequeathed to us the same tender sentiments, which 
 we cherished with a pious care. The name of Eng- 
 land was a pleasant sound in our ears — the sight of 
 their ships was a'lways wont to fill our hearts with joy. 
 We hasted to greet the beloved strangers ; and hur- 
 rying them to our habitations, spread for them oiu 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARIOX. 45 
 
 feast, and rejoiced as men do in the society of their 
 dearest friends. 
 
 " Oh ! had our mother country but treated us \^ith 
 equal affection — as a tender parent, had she but 
 smiled on our valor — encouraged our industry — 
 and thus exalted the horn of our glory, our union 
 and brotherly love would have been eternal ; and the 
 impious name of independence had never been heard ! 
 But, alas ! instead of treating us in this endearing, 
 spirit, she cruelly limited our commerce — compelled 
 us to buy and sell to her alone, and at her own 
 prices — and not content with the enormous profits of 
 such a shameful traffic, she has come, at length, to 
 claim a right to tax us at pleasure. 
 
 " But, my countrymen, will you suffer thus rudely 
 to be wrested from you, that goodly inheritance of 
 LIBERTY, which was bequeathed to you by your gal- 
 lant fathers ? Will you thus tamely suffer to be frus- 
 trated all the glorious designs of God towards you 
 and your children.'' For look but around on this great 
 la7id, which he has given you, and yon bright heavens, 
 which he has spread over your favored heads, and 
 say whether he ever intended those mighty scenes to 
 be the prison-house of slaves.'' — the trembling slaves 
 of a small island beyond the sea .■• — hewers of w^ood 
 and drawers of water, planters of rice and pickers of 
 cotton, for a foreign tyrant and his minions ^ No, my 
 friends, God never intended you for such dishonor — 
 and can you be so wicked a? to bring it on your- 
 selves .'' I trust you will noc. Nay, the voices of 
 your brave countrymen in Congress, have said you 
 willnot^ and anticipating your heroic sentiments, have 
 already declared you a " free and independent 
 
 PEOPLE !" 
 
 " And now my gallant friends, are you willing to 
 confirm their glorious deed ^ Are you willing this 
 day, in the sight of heaven, to swear allegiance to the 
 sovereignty of your country, and to place her in the 
 
46 THE LIFE OF 
 
 highest rank of nations, by proclaiming her inde- 
 
 PEXDKNT ?" 
 
 In a moment the air resounded with " Yes! yes! 
 independence! independence for ever ! God save the 
 independent states of America /'' 
 
 The oath of allegiance was then tendered to the 
 troops. The officers with great alacrity took it first . 
 wnich highly pleased the common soldiers, who rea- 
 dily followed their patriotic example. Soon as the 
 solemn rite was performed, the governor ordered a 
 fell de Joie. Instantly at the welcome word, " handle 
 arms,'''' the eager warriors struck their fire-locks, 
 loud ringing through all their ranks; and presenting 
 their pieces, rent the air with fierce platoons; while 
 the deep-throated cannon like surly bull-dogs, rolled 
 their louder thunders along the field ; then madly 
 bounding back on their ratt\ ng wheels, they told to 
 fancy''s ear^ " Frcedorii's sons are we, and d — n tkt 
 villians that would make :is slaves .'" 
 
GEN FRANCIS MARION. 47 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Times growino' squally — tlie author sets out a vagrant hunting 
 — gets into hot water — narrowly escapes with his life — catcliei 
 a host of vagabonds, but learns from experience, that, though 
 a rascal may do to stop a bullet, 'tis only the man of honoi 
 that can make a good soldier. 
 
 " THE devil,'' said George Whitefield, " is fond 
 of fishing in muddy waters'''' — hence it is, I suppose 
 that that grand demagogue has always been so fond 
 of war — that sunshine and basking time of rogues, 
 which calls them out, thick as May-day sun calls out 
 the rattle-snakes from their stony crannies. 
 
 In times of peace, the waters are clear, so that if 
 the smallest Jack (villain) but makes his appearance, 
 eagle-eyed jusuce, with her iron talons, is down upon 
 him in a moment. But let war but stir up the mud 
 of confusion, and straightway the eyes of justice are 
 blinded — thieves turn out in shoals: and devils, like 
 hungry fishing-hawks, are seen by the eye of faith, 
 hovering over the wretched fry, screaming for their 
 prey. 
 
 This was exactly the case in South Carolina. The 
 war had hardly raged there above a twelvemonth and 
 a day, before the state of society seemed turned up- 
 side down. The sacred plough was every where 
 seen rusting in the weedy furrows — Grog shops and 
 Nanny houses were springing up as thick as hops — 
 at the house of God you saw nobody — but if there 
 was a devil's house (a dram shop) hard by, you ^ 
 might be sure to see that crowded with poor Laza-^ 
 rites, with red noses and black eyes, and the fences 
 all strung along with starved tackles, in grape-vine 
 bridles and sheep-skin saddles. In short, the whole 
 country was fast overrunning with vagabonds, like 
 
4& THE LIFE OF 
 
 ravening locusts, seeking where they might light, 
 and whoni they should devour. 
 
 " Good heavens !'' said Marion to me one day, and 
 witli great alarm in his looks, " what's to be done 
 with these wretches, these vagrants ? I am actually 
 afraid we shall be ruined by them presently. For 
 you know, sir, that a vagrant is but the chrysalis or 
 Hy state of the gambler, the horse-thief, the money- 
 coiner, and indeed of every other worthless creature 
 that disturbs and endangers society." 
 
 " Why colonel," replied I, " there's a conceit in 
 my head, which, if it could bat be brought to bear, 
 would, I think, soon settle the hash with these ras- 
 cals." 
 
 " Aye," replied he, " well, pray give it to us, for 1 
 should be very fond to hear it." 
 
 *' Why sir," said I, " give me but a lieutenant, ser- 
 geant, and corporal, with a dozen privates, all of my 
 own choosing, do you see, and if I don't soon give 
 you a good account of those villians, you may, with 
 all my heart, give me a good suit of tar and fea- 
 thers." 
 
 My demand was instantly complied with. Then 
 taking with me such men as I knew I could depend 
 on, among whom was the brave lieutenant Jossilin, I 
 set out from the Long BulT, towards Sandhills. The 
 reader will please to take notice, that in our hurry we 
 had not forgot to take with us a constable with a pro- 
 per warrant. 
 
 W*e had gone but a few miles, before we fell in 
 with a squad of as choice game as heart could have 
 wished, {hrec proper fall yoxnigvagnhonds ! profound- 
 ly engaged at all fours, in a log tippling shop, with 
 cards as black as their own dirty hands, and a tickler 
 of brandy before them ! and so intent were the 
 thieves on llecching each other, that they took no 
 manner of notice of us, but continued their scoun- 
 drel \\ork, eagerly stretched over the table, thwack- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 49 
 
 ing down their cards with filthy knuckles, and at 
 every stroke balling out, " there's a good trick !^' 
 " ThaVs as good as Ae." 
 
 ^' And there\ the best of the three — huzza, d — n 
 me . at him again my hearties." 
 
 " Lieutenant Jossilin,^^ said I, ^^ grab them fellows.'''' 
 
 You never saw- poor devils in such a fright. But 
 
 soon as they had recovered the use of their tongues, 
 
 they swore like troopers that they were the " most 
 
 honestest gentlemen in all Carolina.'" 
 
 " Aye ! well, I am very glad to hear that, gentle- 
 men," said I," for I love honest men prodigiously, and 
 hope the magistrate will confirm the handsome re- 
 port you have made of yourselves." 
 
 So off we set all together for the magistrate. About 
 dinner time I ordered a halt at the house of one 
 '^ohnson, a militia captain, who appeared quite over- 
 whelmed with joy to see me. \ 
 " Heaven bless us !" said he, " and now who could 
 have believed all this .'' And have I, at last, to my 
 heart's desire, the great honor of seeing under my % 
 humble roof the noble major Horry V ' 
 
 I told him I was much obliged to him, for his po- 
 liteness — but, for the present, was rather too hungry 
 to relish compliments. " Like sweetmeats, captain," 
 said I, " a little of them may do pretty well after a 
 good dinner." 
 
 " Oh, my dear major !" quoth he, " and how sorry 
 I am now that I have nothing fit for dinner for you, 
 my noble son of thunder — a saddle o? fat venison, 
 major ; or a brace of young ducks ; or, a green goose / 
 with currant jelly, and a bottle of old Madeira to 
 ivash it down, do you see, major ! something 7nce for 
 yon, do you see, major!" 
 
 " JVice,'" said I, " captain Johnson ! We soldiers 
 of liberty don't stand upon the nice the — substantial 
 • " that we care for — a rasher of fat bacon from the 
 
 5 
 
50 THE LIFE OF 
 
 coals, with a good stout lump of an ash cake, is ntce 
 
 enough for us." 
 
 *' Oh, my dear sir !" replied he, " now don^t, dorCt 
 be angry with me ; for I was only sorry that I have 
 nothing half so good for you as I could wish, but 
 such as it is, thank God, we have plenty ; and you 
 shall have a bite in a trice." So off he went, as he 
 pretended, to hurry dinner. 
 
 Now can any honest man believe that this same 
 man, captain Johnson, who had been, as Paddy says, 
 ^^ sticking the blarney into meat that rate,''^ could have 
 been such a scoundrel as to turn about the very next 
 minute, and try all in his power to trick me out of 
 my vagrants. It is, however, too true to be doubt- 
 ed ; for having purposely delayed dinner till it was 
 late, he then insisted that I must not deny him the 
 " very great honor of my company that night. ''^ Soon 
 as my consent was obtained, he despatched a parcel 
 of riders, to order in, with their guns, as many of his 
 gang as he thought would do. In the course of the 
 night, snug as master Johnson thought himself, I got 
 a hint of his capers, and told my men to see that 
 their guns were in prime order. 
 
 Wiiile breakfast was getting ready, (for Johnson 
 swore I should not leave him " on an empty stoyyiach,''^) 
 lieutenant Jossilin came and told me he did not un- 
 derstand the meaning of so many ill-looking fellows 
 coming about the house wuth their guns in their 
 hands. 
 
 I replied that we should see presently. 
 
 Breakfast then making its appearance, we sat down, 
 and while we were eating, (our men all on parade at 
 the door) Johnson's men kept dropping in one after 
 another, till there were, I dare say, as many as thirty 
 of them in the room, all armed. 
 
 When breakfast was over, I turned to the consta- 
 ble, and desired him to look to his charge, meaning 
 the three vagrants, for that we would start as soon as 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. • 51 
 
 our men were all refreshed. Upon this captain John- 
 son said he believed he should not let the prisoners go. 
 
 " Not let them go, sir," said I, " what do you mean 
 by that, sir.?" 
 
 " I mean, sir," replied he, " that the law is an op- 
 pressive one." 
 
 I asked him, still keeping myself perfectly cool, if 
 he was not an American soldier .-' 
 
 " Yes, szV," he answered, " lam an American sol- 
 dier ; and as good a one, perhaps, as yourself, or any 
 other man." 
 
 " Well, sir, and is this the way you show your sol- 
 diership, by insulting the law.?" 
 
 " I am not bound," continued he, " to obey a bad 
 law." 
 
 " But, sir, who gave you a right to judge the law .?" 
 
 " I don't mind that," quoth he, " but d — nme, sir, 
 if I'll let the prisoners go." 
 
 " Very well, captain Johnson," said I, " we shall 
 soon try that ; and if you and your people here, 
 choose to go to the devil for resisting the law, on 
 your own heads be the bloody consequences.'''' 
 
 With this I gave the floor a thundering stamp, and 
 in a moment, as by magic, in bursted my brave ser- 
 geant and men, with fixed bayonets, ready for slaugh- 
 ter, while Jossilin and myself, whipping out our 
 swords, rushed on as to the charge. 
 
 A troop of red foxes dashing into a poultry yard, 
 never produced such squalling and flying as now took 
 place among these poo -guilty wretches — " Lord have 
 mercy upon us,^^ they cried — down fell their guns — 
 smack went the doors and windows — and out of both, 
 heels over head they tumbled, as expecting every mo- 
 ment the points of our bayonets. The house was 
 quickly cleared of every soul except Johnson and his 
 lieutenant, one Lunda, who both trembled like aspen 
 leaves, expecting a severe drubbing. 
 
 "Captain Johnson," said I, "don't tremule ; you 
 
62 THE LIFE OF 
 
 have nothing to fear from me. A man who can act 
 as you have done, is not an object of anger, but con- 
 tempt. Go ! and learn the spirit that becomes a gen 
 tleraan and an American soldier." 
 
 I should have observed, that as we advanced to 
 charge Johnson's poltroons, one of the party, a reso- 
 lute fellow, presented his gun to my breast and drew 
 ^ the trigger. Happily, in the very instant of its firing, 
 lieutenant Jossilin knocked it up with his sword; and 
 the ball grazing my shoulder, bursted through the 
 side of the house. 
 
 As we rode otf, some of Johnson's fugitives had the 
 audacity to bawl out, though from a very prudent dis- 
 tance, threatening us that they would yet rescue the 
 prisoners before we got to the blufi". But they wisely 
 took care not to make good their word, for they were 
 only a pack of poor ignorant tories, who did nothing 
 on principle, and were therefore rendy to quit their 
 purpose the moment they saw dangi:;r in the way. 
 
 Our success at vagrant hunting waa marvellous. I 
 hardly think we couhl,in the same time, have caught 
 as many raccoons in any swamp on Pedee. On count- 
 ing noses, we found, that in our three week's course, 
 we had seized and sent off to Charleston, upwards 
 of fifty. With the last haul, I returned myself to the 
 city, where I received the thanks of general Howe, 
 for " /Ae handsome addition,'^ as he was pleased to 
 term it, " which I had made to the regiment.^' 
 
 But on trial, it was found that such vermin were 
 not worthy of thanks, nor were any addition to the 
 'egiment, except as disgust to the men and vexation 
 to the officers. Destitute of honor, they performed 
 *heir duty, not like soldiers, but slaves ; and, on every 
 opportunity, would run olf into the woods like wild 
 beasts. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 53 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The brave sergeant Jasper again on the carpet — in disguise 
 visits a British post at Ebenezer — in company of sergeant 
 Newton, makes a second trip thither — affecting view of an 
 American lady and her chiJd, witli otiier whig prisoners at 
 Ebenezer — desperate resolve of Jasper and Newton, to rescue 
 them — their bloody conflict and glorious triumph. 
 
 In the spring of 1779, Marion and myself were 
 sent with our commands, to Purysburgh, to re-en- 
 force general Lincoln, who was there on his way to 
 attack the British in Savannah, which a few months 
 before had fallen into their hands. As the count 
 D'Estang, who was expected to co-operate in this af- 
 fair, had not yet arrived, general Lincoln thought it 
 advisable to entrench and wait for him. 
 
 While we were lying at Purysburgh, a couple of 
 young men of our regiment achieved an act of gene- 
 rosity and courage, which, in former days, would 
 have laid the ground- worlv of a heroic romance. One 
 of the actors in this extraordinary play was the brave 
 seijeant Jasper, whose name will for ever be dear to 
 the friends of American liberty. 
 
 Jasper had a brother who had joined the British, 
 and held the rank of sergeant in their garrison at 
 Ebenezer. Never man was truer to his country than 
 Jasper, yet was his heart so warm that he loved his 
 brother, though a tory, and actually went over to see 
 him. His brother was exceedingly alarmed at sight 
 of him, lest he should be seized and hung up at once 
 as a spy, for his name was well known to many of the 
 British officers. But Jasper begged him not to give 
 himself much trouble on that head, for, said he, "I am 
 no longer an American soldier." 
 
 " Well, thank God for that, William," replied his 
 biother, giving him a hearty shake by the hand — 
 
 5^ 
 
54 'I'HE LIFE OF 
 
 " j9nd nolo only say the word^ my boy, and hej-e is a 
 commission for you, witJi regimentals and gold to boot, 
 to fight for his majesty.'*^ 
 
 Jasper shook his head and observed, that though 
 there was but little encouragement to fight for his 
 country, yet he could not find in his heart to fight 
 against her. And there the conversation ended. 
 
 Afler staying with his brother some two or three 
 days, inspecting and hearing all that he could, he toc'c 
 his leave, and by a round about, returned to camp, anu 
 told general Lincoln all that he had seen. 
 
 Having wasted several weeks longer of tiresome 
 idleness, and no news of the French fleet, Jasper took 
 it into his head to make another trip to Ebenezer. 
 
 On this occasion he did not, as before, go alone, 
 but took with him his particular friend, sergeant 
 Newton, son of an old Baptist preacher, and a young 
 fellow, for strength and courage, just about a good 
 match for Jasper himself. 
 
 He was received as usual, with great cordiality by 
 his brother, to whom he introduced his friend New- 
 ton, and spent several days in the British fort, with- 
 out Gfivino; the least alarm. On the morning of the 
 third day his brother had some bad news to tell him. 
 
 " Aye ! what.is it ?" he asked, " what is it V 
 
 " Why," replied his brother, " here are some ten or 
 a dozen American prisoners, brought in this morning, 
 as deserters from Savannah, whither they are to be 
 sent immediately. And from what I can learn, it 
 will be apt to go hard with them, for it seems they 
 have all taken the king's bounty." 
 
 " LeCs see Vm," said Jasper, " leVs see 'em." 
 
 So his brother took him and Newton to see thera. 
 And indeed it was a mournful sight to behold them, 
 where they sat, poor fellows! all liand-cufFed, on the 
 ground. But all pity of them was forgot, soon as 
 the eye was turned to a far more doleful sight hard 
 by, which was a young woman, wife of one of the 
 
GEN FRANCIS MARION. 55 
 
 prisoners, with her child, a sweet little boy of about 
 five years old. The name of this lady was Jones, 
 Her humble garb showed her to be poor, but her deep 
 distress, and sympathy with her unfortunate hus- 
 band, showed that she was rich in that pure conjugil 
 love, that is more precious than all gold. 
 
 She generally sat on the ground opposite to her 
 husband, with her little boy leaning on her lap, and 
 her coal black hair spreading in long neglected tresses 
 on her neck and bosom. And thus in silence she sat, 
 a statue of grief, sometimes with her eyes bard fixed 
 upon the earth, like one lost in thought, sighing and 
 groaning the while as if her heart would burst — then 
 starting, as from a reverie, she would dart her eager 
 eyes, red with weeping, on her husband's face, and 
 there would gaze, with looks so piercing sad, as 
 though she saw him struggling in the halter, herself 
 a widow, and her son an orphan. Straight her frame 
 would begin to shake with the rising agony, and her 
 face to change and swell ; then with eyes swimming 
 in tears, she would look around upon us all, for pity 
 and for help, with cries sufficient to melt the heart 
 of a demon. While the child seeing his father's hands 
 fast bound, and his mother weeping, added to the 
 distressing scene, by his artless cries and tears. 
 
 The brave are always tender-hearted. It was so 
 with Jasper and Newton, two of the most undaunted 
 spirits that ever lived. They walked out in the neigh- 
 boring wood. The tear was in the eye of both. 
 Jasper first broke silence. " Newton," said he, " my 
 days have been but few ; but I believe their course 
 is nearly done." 
 
 " Why so, Jasper?" 
 
 " Why, I feel," said he, " that I must rescue these 
 poor prisoners, or die with them ; otherwise that wo- 
 man and her child will haunt me to my grave." 
 
 " Well, that is exactly what I feel too," replied 
 Newton — " and here is my hand and heart to standi! 
 
66 THE LIFE OF 
 
 by you, ray brave friend, to the last drop. ThAnk 
 God, a man can die but once, and there is not so 
 much in this life that a man need be afraid to leave 
 it, especially when he is in the way of his duty." 
 
 The two friends then embraced with great cor- 
 diality, while each read in the other's countenance, 
 that immortal fire which beams from the eyes of the 
 brave, when resolved to die or conquer in some glo- 
 rious cause. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were 
 sent on for Savannah, under a guard of a sergeant ana 
 corporal with eight men. They had not been gone 
 long, before Jasper, accompanied by his friend New- 
 ton, took leave of his brother, and set out on some 
 errand to the upper country. They had scarcely, 
 however, got out of sight of Ebenezer, before they 
 struck into the piny woods, and pushed hard after 
 the prisoners and their, guard, whom they closely 
 dogged for several miles, anxiously watching an op- 
 portunity to make a blow. But alas! all hopes of 
 that sort seemed utterly extravagant ; for what could 
 give two men a chance to contend against ten, espe- 
 cially when there was found no weapon in the hands 
 of the two, while the ten, each man was armed with 
 his loaded musket and bayonet. J3ut unable to give 
 up their countrymen, our heroes still followed on. 
 
 About two miles from Savannah there is a famous 
 spring, generally called the Spa^ well known to tra- 
 vellers, who often turn in hither to quench their thirst. 
 " Perhaps," said Jasper, " the guard may stop there." 
 Then hastening on by a near cut through the woods, 
 they gained the Spa, as their last hope, and there con- 
 cealed themselves among the bushes that grew abur- 
 dantly around the spring. 
 
 Presently the mournful procession came in sight, 
 headed by the sergeant, who, on coming opposite to 
 the spring, ordered a halt. Hope sprung afresh in our 
 heroes' bosoms, strong throbbing too, no doubt, wilb 
 
Page 57, 
 
 Serjeant Jatper, rescuing the American prisoners. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 57 
 
 great alarms, for " it was a fearful odds.'''' Th^ cor- 
 poral with his guard of four men, conducted the pri- 
 soners to the spring, while the sergeant with the 
 other four, having grounded their arms near the road, 
 brought up the rear. The prisoners, wearied with 
 their long walk, were permitted to rest themselves on 
 the earth. Poor Mrs. Jones, as usual, took her seat 
 opposite to her husband, and her little boy, overcome 
 with fatigue, fell asleep in her lap. Two of the cor- 
 poral's men were ordered to keep guard, and the other 
 two to give the prisoners drink out of their canteens. 
 These last approached the spring where our heroes lay 
 concealed, and resting their muskets against a pine 
 tree, dipped up water : and having drank themselves, 
 turned away, with replenished canteens, to give the 
 prisoners also. " Now ! JVewton, is our time T^ said 
 Jasper. Then bursting, like two lions, from their 
 concealment, they snatched up the two muskets that 
 were rested against the pine, and in an instant shot 
 down the two soldiers that kept guard. And now the 
 question was, who should first get the two loaded 
 muskets that had just fallen from the hands of the 
 slain. For by this time the sergeant and corporal, a 
 couple of brave Englishmen, recovering from their 
 momentary panic, had sprung and seized upon the 
 muskets ; but before they could use them, the strong 
 swift-handed Americans, w^ith clubbed guns, levelled 
 each at the head of his brave antagonist, the final blow. 
 The tender bones of the skull gave way beneath the 
 furious strokes, and with wide scattered blood and 
 brains down they sunk, pale and quivering to the earth 
 without a groan. Then snatching up the guns which 
 had thus, a second time, fallen from the hands of the 
 slain, they flew between the surviving enemy, and or- 
 dered them to surrender, which they instantly did. 
 
 Having called the prisoners to them, they quicklv 
 with the point of their bayonets, broke ofT their hand 
 cufTs, and gave each of them a musket. 
 
68 THE LIFE OF 
 
 At the comiuenceinent of the fray, poor Mrs. Jones, 
 half frightened to death, had fallen to the ground in a 
 swoon, with her little son piteously screaming o\er 
 her. But when she came to herself, and saw her hus- 
 band and friends around her, all freed from their fet- 
 ters and well armed, she looked and behaved like one 
 frantic with joy. She sprung to her husband's bosom, 
 and with her arms around his neck, sobbed out, " Oh 
 bless God ! bless God ! my husband is safe ; my husband 
 is not hung yet ;^^ then snatching up her child, and 
 straining him to her soul, as if she would have pressed 
 him to death, she cried out — " praise ! praise ! praise 
 God for ever I my son has a father yet /" Then wildly 
 darting round her eyes in quest of her deliverers, she 
 exclaimed, " Where! where are those blessed angels 
 that God sent to save my husband ?" 
 
 Directing her eyes to Jasper and Newton, where 
 they stood like two youthful Sampsons, in the full 
 flowing of their locks, she ran and fell on her knees 
 before them, and seizing their hands, kissed and 
 pressed them to her bosom, crying out vehemently, 
 "Dear angels! dear angels! God bless you! God 
 Almighty bless you for ever !" 
 
 Then instantly, for fear of being overtaken by the 
 enemy, our heroes snatched the arms and regimentals 
 of the slain, and with their friends and captive foes, 
 recrossed the Savannah, and in safety rejoined our 
 army at Purysburgh, to the inexpressible astonish- 
 ment and joy of us all. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 59 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The count D'Estang', with the French fleet, arrives to attack 
 Savannah — our army marches and joins him — fatal effects of 
 D'Estang's politeness — biographical dash of young colonel 
 Laurens — curious dialogue betwixt him and the French gene- 
 ral — unsuccessful attack on Savannah — the brave Jasper 
 mortally wounded — is visited by the author in his last mo- 
 ments — interesting conversation — dies like a Christian sol- 
 dier. 
 
 Could the wishes of our army have availed, 
 those gallant soldiers, (Jasper and Newton) would 
 long have lived to enjoy their past, and to win fresh 
 laurels. But alas ! the former of them, the heroic 
 Jasper, was soon led, like a young lion, to an evil net. 
 The mournful story of his death, with heavy heart 
 1 now relate. 
 
 Scarcely had he returned from Georgia, laden, as 
 aforesaid, with glory, when an express came into 
 camp, and informed that the count D'Estang was 
 arrived off Tybee. Instantly we struck our tents and 
 marched for the siege of Savannah. On arriving near 
 that fatal place, we found that the French troops, with 
 their cannon and mortars, had just come up. Oh! 
 had we but advanced at once to the attack, as became 
 skilful soldiers, we should have carried every thing 
 before us. The frighted garrison would have hauled 
 down their colors without firing a shot. This I am 
 warranted to say by the declaration of numbers of 
 their officers, who afterwards fell into our hands. 
 But in place of an immediate coup de main, the 
 courtly D'Estang sent a (lag, very politely inviting 
 the town to do him the extreme honor of receiving 
 their surrender. 
 
 The British commander was not much behind- 
 
CO THE LIFE OF 
 
 hand with the count in the article of politeness, foi 
 he also returned a flag \vilh his compliments, and 
 requested to be permitted four and twenty hours to 
 think of the matter. 
 
 If the aslcing such a favor was extraordinary, what 
 must the granting of it have been ? But the accom- 
 plished D'Estang was fully equal to such douceurs 
 for he actually allowed the enemy ybur and twenty 
 hours to think of surrendering ! 
 
 But instead of thinking, like simpletons, they fell 
 to entrenching^WVQ brave soldiers. And being joined 
 that very day by colonel Maitland from Beaufort, 
 .y^ with a regiment of Highlanders, and assisted by 
 swarms of negroes, decoyed from their masters un- 
 der promise of freedom, they pushed on their works 
 W'ith great rapidity. According to the report of our 
 troops who were encamped nearest to them, nothing 
 was heard all that night, but the huzzas of the sol- 
 / diers, the lashes of cow-hides, and the cries of ne- 
 groes. 
 
 I never beheld Marion in so great a passion. I was 
 actually afraid he would have broke out on general 
 Lincoln. " My God T^ he exclaimed, " who ever heard 
 of any thing like this before ! — first allow an enemy 
 to entrench, and then fight him ! ! See the destruction 
 brought upon the British at Bunker''s Hill ! ajid yet out 
 troops there were only militia! raw, half-armed clod- 
 hoppers ! and not a mortar, nor carronade, nor even a 
 swivel — but only their ducking guns ! 
 
 " What then are we to expect from regulars — com- 
 pletely armed with a choice train of artillery, and 
 covered by a breast-work ! For my own part, when 
 I look upon my brave fellows around me, it wrings 
 me to the heart, to think how near most of them are 
 to their bloody graves.^' 
 
 In fact, Marion was so outrageous, as indei'd were 
 all of us, that we at lentith be<ro:ed colonel Laurens 
 to speak to the count D'l^stang. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. (j I 
 
 And here I must beg the reader's pardon a mo- 
 ment, while I inform him that this colonel Laurens 
 (son of President Laurens) was a very extraordinary 
 young Carolinian. 
 
 On atrip to London, he fell in love with, and mar- 
 ried a celebrated belle of that city. It would seem 
 that he was very much taken with his English rela- 
 lations, and they with him, for after his marriage, they 
 would not suffer him to revisit his parents, who 
 doated on him, being their only son, but detained 
 him with them in London, as gay as a young marj 
 well could be, in the gayest city in the world, moving) 
 every day in the highest circles of society, and every 
 night encircled in the fond arms of a beauteous; 
 wife. 
 
 But soon as the war against America broke out, 
 his gaiety all forsook him. The idea of a ruffian sol- 
 diery overrunning his native land, preyed incessantly 
 on his spirits, and threw him into those brown stu- 
 dies which cost his lady full many a tear. Unable 
 \o bear his disquietude, he fled at length from his 
 wife and infant family, to fight for his country. He 
 presented himself before the great Washington, who 
 was so struck with the fire that beamed from his 
 eyes, that he made him handsome offers of rank in 
 the army. But his favorite service was to lead 
 forlorn hopes, and the daring bands that are destined 
 to carry the enemy's works by storm. Washington 
 often gave hira letters to this efTect to his generals. 
 And this was his object at Savannah, where a regi- 
 ment of choice infantry was immediately put under 
 his command. But instead of being permitted his 
 favorite pleasure of seeing his ardent warriors 
 mounting the enemy's works, and rushing down 
 streams of fire, followed by the bayonet, he was 
 doomed to fret and pine in the humble office of 
 interpreter between count D'Estang and general 
 Lincoln. 
 
52 THE LIFE OF 
 
 " But. Monsieur le count," said Lk reus to D'L's- 
 tang, " the American officers say they are afraid you 
 have given the English toe long time to think." 
 
 At this, as Laurens tOid us afterwards, the count 
 put on a mjst comic stare, and breaking into a hearty 
 laugh, replied, "De Engleesh think! ha, ha, ha! By 
 gar dat one ver good parole ! De Englesh tink, heh, 
 Monsieur le colonel! By gar, de Elngleesh never tink 
 but for deir bellie. Give de Jack Engleshman plenty 
 beef — plenty pudding — plenty porter, by gar he never 
 tink any more, he lay down, he go a sleep like vun 
 hog." 
 
 " But, Monsieur le count," continued Laurens, 
 " the English are doing worse for us than thinking. 
 They are working away like horses, and will soon 
 get their defences too high for us to scale." 
 
 " Eh, heh. Monsieur le colonel ! you think-a so .'' 
 Well den, by gar you no need for tink-a so — by gar 
 my French-a-mans run over de fence just like vun 
 tief horse run over de cornfield fence — mind now I 
 tell-a you dat. Monsieur le colonel." 
 
 " Well, but Monsieur le count, the British some- 
 times fight like the d — 1." 
 
 " Sacre Dieu I" replied the nettled count, starting 
 and gaping as though he would have swallowed a 
 young alligator — " de Briteesh fight like de diable ! 
 Jaun foutre de Briteesh ! when they been known for 
 fight like de diable .'' Ess, ess, dat true enough ; dey 
 fight de Americans like de diable — but by gar dey 
 no fight de French-a-mans so — no no, by gar dey no 
 make one mouthful for my French-a-mans — Morbleu ' 
 my French-a-mans eat dem up like vun leetle gre- 
 noulle." 
 
 " Green Owl!'^ exclaimed one of gtneral Lincoln's 
 aids — " Oh my God! who ever heard of 2l green owl 
 Dcfore .'"' 
 
 Here Laurens, smiling at the ofl[icer's mistake, re- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 63 
 
 plied, " not green owl, sir, hnt grenouille , grt?nouille, 
 sir, is the French for frog." 
 
 " Aye, sure enough, sure enough ,f'ig, ' continued 
 the count, '^J'rog ; grenouihe is jfrog. By gar. Mon- 
 sieur, le colonel, you be vun dam good interpret, I 
 set dat well enough. Well den, now. Monsieur le 
 colonel, you hear-a me speak — my French-a-mans 
 eat dera Jack En^leesh all same like vun leetle frojT." 
 *' Oh to be sure ! — no doubt of all that. Monsieur 
 le count — but before we eat them up, they may kill 
 a great many of our soldiers." 
 
 " Dey kill-a de soldier!" replied the passionate 
 count — " well what den if dey do kill-a de soldier! 
 Jaun foutre de soldier ! what dey good for but for be 
 kill ? dat deir trade. You give-a vun poor dog sol- 
 dier, two, three, four penny a day, he go fight — he 
 get kill. Well den, what dat ? By gar he only get 
 what he hire for." 
 
 " But pardon me. Monsieur le count, we can't 
 spare them." 
 
 " Vat ! no spare de soldier I de grand Monarque 
 no spare de soldier ? O mon Dieu ! Vy, Monsieur le 
 colonel — for why you talk-a so .'' Well den, hear-a 
 me speak now. Monsieur le colonel — you see de star 
 in de sky ; de leaf on de tree ; de sand on de shore 
 — you no see all dat, heh ? Well den, by gar, Mon- 
 sieur le colonel, de grand Monarque got soldier more 
 an-a all dat— ess, sacra Dieu! more an-a all dat, by 
 gar " 
 
 '' Well but, Monsieur le count, is it not cruel to 
 kill the poor fellows notwithstanding .'"' 
 
 ^^ Pooh r^ replied the count, throwing back his 
 head, and puffing out his cheeks as when a segar 
 sucker explodes a cataract of smoke from the crater 
 of his throat ; " cruel ! vat cruel for kill-a de sol- 
 dier ! by gar. Monsieur le colonel, you make-a de 
 king of France laugh he hear-a you talk after dat 
 fashong. Let-a me tell you, Monsier le colonel, de 
 
64 THE LIFE OF 
 
 king of Trance no like sreneial Washington — by gar, 
 iijeneial \Va.shin<2;ton talk \vi' de soldier — he shake 
 hauil \\i' de soldier — he gi\'e de soldier dram — By 
 gar, de grand Monarque no do so — no, sacra Dieu .' 
 he no look at de soldier. When de king of France 
 ride out in de coach royale wid de supeerb horses, 
 and harness shining so bright all vun like gold, if he 
 run over one soldier, you tink he going stop for dat? 
 No, sacra foutre ! he ride on so, all one like if nothing 
 at all been ha})pen. Jaun foutre de soldier! let him 
 prenez garde for himself; by gar the grand jMonarque 
 no mind dat. De grand JVlonarque only tink of de 
 soldier commes des chiens, like de poor dam dog for 
 6ght for him." 
 
 Thus ended the dialogue between colonel Laurens 
 and the count D'Estang. 
 
 The next day, the memorable twenty-four hours 
 being expired, a flag was sent into town to know tiie 
 determination of the British officer, who very polite- 
 ly replied, that having consulted his pillow, he had 
 made up his mind to defend the place. A regular 
 siege was then commenced, and continued for tiiree 
 weeks : at the end of which an attack was made, and 
 with the success which Marion had all along pre- 
 dicted. After a full hour's exposure to the destruc- 
 tive rage of grape shot and musketry, we were 
 obliged to make a precipitate retreat ; leaving the 
 ground covered with the mingled carcasses of 400 
 Americans and 800 Frenchmen. Marion's corps 
 fighting with their usual confidence, suflered great 
 loss ; himself did not receive a scratch. Colonel 
 I^aurens raged like a wounded lion. Soon as the 
 retreat was ordered he paused, and looking round on 
 his fallen men, cried out, " Poor fellows, I envy yo'» 
 then liurling his sword in wrath against the groua^., 
 he retired. Presently, after we had reached our en- 
 campment, he came to my marquee, and like one 
 greatly disordered, said, "•* Horry, my life is a bur* 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 65 
 
 deii to me ; I would to God I was lying on yonder 
 field at rest with my poor men !" 
 
 " No ! no ! none of that, colonel," said I, " none of 
 that ; I trust we shall live to pay them yet for all 
 this." 
 
 And so it turned out. And though for humanity's 
 sake, I ought not to boast of it, yet we did live to pay 
 them for it, and often too : and in the same bloody 
 coin which they gave us that day. And although in 
 that fiery season of my days, and when my dear 
 country was in danger, it was but natural for rae to 
 rejoice in the downfall of my enemies, yet I was often 
 witness to scenes, which to this day I can never think 
 of but with sorrow — as when, for example, after 
 dashing upon an enemy by surprise, and cutting one 
 half of them to pieces and chasing the rest, we re- 
 turned to collect the horses and arms of the slain. 
 Who, I say, without grief could behold those sad 
 sights which then offered themselves, of human be- 
 ings lying mangled over the crimson ground — some 
 stone dead, some still alive and struggling, with 
 brains oozing from their cloven skulls — and others 
 sitting up, or leaning on their elbows, but pale with 
 loss of blood, running in streams from their mortal 
 wounds, and they themselves looking down, the 
 while, sadly thinking of home and of distant wives 
 and childi'en, whom they shall never see again. 
 
 Such thoughts, if often cherished, would much 
 abate the rancor of malice in the hearts of those 
 whose sad destiny it is to kill one another ; especially 
 if it were known how short sometimes are the tri- 
 umphs of the victor. It was remarkably so in the pre 
 sent case: for colonel Maitland, of the Highlanders, 
 who had contributed a large part to this very unex- 
 pected victory, was so elated by it, that he took tc 
 hard drinking, and killed himself in a single week ; 
 and the sickly season coming on, the g" ^ater part 
 
66 THE :*F£ OF 
 
 of the garrisrn perished of the yellow or bilious 
 fe-er ! ! 
 
 Thus friends and Tucs t)<a same sad fortune snar'ri, 
 And sickness swallowed wliom the sword Iiud spar'd. 
 
 Many cjallant men were the victims of count D'Es- 
 tang's folly in this affair ; among the number was that 
 impetuous Polander, the count Polaski. 
 
 J3ut none fell more universally lamented than the 
 heroic Jasper. Every reader must wish to hear the 
 last of this brave and generous soldier. And they 
 shall have it faithfully, for I happened to be close by 
 him when he received his death's wound ; and I was 
 W'ith him when he breathed his last. 
 
 Early in the action, the elegant colors presented 
 by Mrs. Elliot, had been planted on the enemy's 
 works ; and the fury of the battle raged near the spot 
 where they waved. During the whole of the bloody 
 fray, Jasper had remained unhurt. But on hearing 
 the retreat sounded, he rushed up to bear off his 
 colors, and in that desperate act, was mortally 
 wounded. As he passed by me, with the colors in 
 his hands, I observed he had a bad limp in his walk. 
 
 " You are not much hurt, I hope, Jasper," said I 
 
 "Yes, major," he replied, " I believe I have got 
 my furlough." 
 
 " Pshaw," quoth I, " furlough indeed, for what?" 
 
 " Why to go home," he answered, " to go to Hea- 
 ven, I hope." 
 
 " Pooh !" said I, and having, as the reader must 
 suppose, a good deal to attend to, I turned off" and 
 left him. However, his words made such an impres- 
 sion on me, that soon as duty permitted, I went to 
 see him, and found too true what he had predicted ; 
 the ball had opened a blood vessel in the lunii:s which 
 no art could stop, and he was bleeding to slow but 
 certain death. 
 ^- As I entered the tert, he lifted his eyes to me, but 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 67 
 
 their fire was almost quenched ; and stretching his * 
 feeble hand, he said, with perfect tranquillity, " Well, 
 major, I told you I had got my furlough." 
 
 " I hope not," I replied. 
 
 " Oyes!" said he, "I am going — and very fast 
 too ; but, thank God, I am not afraid to go." 
 
 I told him I knew he was too brave to fear death, 
 and too honest to be alarmed about its consequences. 
 
 " Why, as to that matter, sir," said he, " I won't 
 brag : but I have my hopes, notwithstanding I may 
 be wrong, for I know I am but a poor ignorant body, 
 but somehow or other, I have always built my hopes 
 of what God may do for me hereafter^ on what he 
 has done for me here !" 
 
 I told him I thought he was very correct in that. 
 
 " Do you, indeed ?" said he. " Well, I am mighty 
 glad of that — and now major, here's the way I always 
 comfort myself: Fifty years ago, (I say to myself,) 
 I was nothing, and had no thought that there was any 
 such grand and beautiful world as this. But still 
 there was such a world notwithstanding ; and here 
 God has brought me into it. Now, can't he, in fifty 
 years more, or indeed in fifty minutes more, bring 
 me into another world, as much above this as this is 
 above that state oinotldng, wherein I was fifty years 
 ago?" 
 
 I told him that this was, to my mind, a very happy 
 way oi reasoning ; and such, no doubt, as suited the 
 greatness and goodness of God. 
 
 " I think so, major," said he, " and I trust I shall 
 find it so ; for though I've been a man of blood, yet, 
 thank God, I've always lived with an eye to that 
 great hope. My mother, major, was a good woman ; 
 when I was but a child, and sat on her lap, she use-d 
 to talk to me of God, and tell how it was he who built 
 this great world, with all its riches and good things : 
 and not for himself, but for me! and also, that if I 
 would but do his will in that only acceptable way, a 
 
en THE LIFE OF 
 
 good life, he would do still greater and better things 
 for me hereafter. 
 
 " Well, major, from the mouth of a dear mother, 
 like her, these things went so deep into my heart, 
 that they could never be taken away from me. I 
 have hardly ever gone to bed, or got up again, with- 
 out saying my prayers. I have honored my father 
 and mother; and, thank God, been sU\ci\y honest. 
 And since }ou have known me, major, I believe you 
 can bear witness, that though a strong man, I never 
 was quarrehome."' 
 
 I told him, nothing afforded me more satisfaction, 
 than to remember that, since he was now going to 
 die, he had always led so good a life. 
 
 He answered, with tears in his eyes, that he had a 
 good hope he was going where he should not do what 
 he had been obliged to do in this world. " I've killed 
 men in my time, major, but not in malice, but in what 
 I thought a just war in defence of my country. And 
 as I bore no malice against those I killed, neither do 
 I bear any against those who have killed me. And I 
 heartily trust in God for Christ's sake, that we shall 
 yet, one day, meet together, where we shall forgive 
 and love one another like brothers. I own, indeed, 
 major, that had it so pleased God, I'should have been 
 glad to stay a little longer with you to fight for my 
 countr3\ But however^ I humbly hope that my death 
 is of God ; which makes it welcome to me, and so I 
 bow me to his blessed will. And now, my good friend, 
 as I feel I have but a little time to live, I beg you 
 will do a few things for me when I am dead and 
 gone." 
 
 I could not speak : but gathering my answer from 
 my tears, and the close press I gave his hand, he thus 
 went on, but it was in a low voice and laborious. 
 
 "You see that sword? — It is the one which go- 
 vernor Ruthledge presented to me for my services at 
 Fort Moultrie — give that sword to my father, and 
 
GEN, FRANCIS MARION. ^9 
 
 tell him I never dishonored it. If he should weep 
 for me, tell him his son died in hope of a better life. 
 If you should see that great gentlewoman, Mrs. 
 Elliot, tell her I lost my life in saving the colors she 
 gave to our regiment. And if ever you should come 
 across poor Jones and his wife, and little boy, tell 
 them Jasper is gone ; but that the remembrance of 
 the hard battle which he once fought for their sakea 
 brought a secret joy to his heart just as it was about 
 to stop its motion for ever." 
 
 He spoke these last words in a livelier tone than 
 usual, but it was like the last kindling of the taper in 
 its oil-less socket — for instantly the paleness of death 
 overspread his face, and after a feeble effort to vomit, 
 with convulsions, the natural effect of great loss of 
 blood, he sunk back and expired. 
 
 From this victim of D'Estang's madness, I went 
 with a heavy heart on parade, to take a review of the 
 sad remains of the battle. The call of the roll com- 
 pleted the depression of my spirits. To every fourth 
 or fifth name there was no answer — the gloomy si- 
 lence which ensued, told us where they were. About 
 twelve o'clock we sent in a flag to the garrison for 
 permission to bury our dead. Curiosity led me to 
 accompany the party destined to this mournful duty. 
 I had prepared myself for a sorrowful sight ; but 
 ah ! what words can express what I then saw and 
 suffered ! 
 
 A scattered few lay here and there on the utmost 
 verge of the field, killed by cannon shot, and so man- 
 gled, that in some instances, it was hard to tell who 
 they were. As we advanced, they lay thicker and 
 thicker. Some, not quite dead, were constantly cry- 
 ing, " Water ! water ! — Oh ! for God's sake, a little 
 water!" — Others lay quite dead, but still their life- 
 less visages retained the dark frowns of war. There, 
 on the side of the enemy's breast-work, lay the brave 
 ensign Boushe, covering with his dead body, the 
 
70 THE LIFE OF 
 
 very spot where he had fixed the American standard. 
 His face was pale and cold as the earth he pressed, 
 but still it spoke the fierce determined air of one 
 whose last sentiment towards those degenerate Bri- 
 tons was, " There d — n you ! look at the stripes of 
 liberty." 
 
 Close by ensign Boushe, lay that elegant young 
 man, Alexander Hume, Esq. with his sword still 
 grasped in his stiflfened fingers. My heart bled within 
 me, when I looked on young Hume, where he lay in 
 all the pale beauties of death. He was to have been 
 married the week following, to a charming woman ; 
 but such was his zeal to serve his country, that he 
 came a volunteer to our camp, and met his death the 
 next morning after he joined us. Gifted with a pretty 
 taste for painting, he had tried his skill, and very 
 successfully too, in sketching the likeness of his love- 
 ly mistress. For on opening his bosom, was found, 
 suspended by a blue ribband, (the happy lover's co- 
 lor) a fine likeness of the be.iutiful Miss : the 
 
 back of the portrait was stained with his blood ; but 
 unconscious of her lover's fate, she still wore the en- 
 chanting smile with which yielding beauty views 
 the youth she loves. 
 
 We then proceeded to bury our dead ; which was 
 done by digging large pits, sufficient to contain about 
 a hundred corpses. Then taking off' their clothes, 
 with heavy hearts, we threw them into the pits, with 
 very little regard to order, and covered them over 
 with earth. 
 
 " Poor brothers, farewell ! the storm of your last 
 battle has long ago ceased on the field, and no trace 
 now remains on earth that you ever lived. The 
 worms have devoured your llesh ; and the mounds 
 raised over your dust, are sunk back to the common 
 level with the plain. But ah! could your mournfu. 
 story be read, the youth of America would listen to 
 the last words of Washington, and ' study the art of 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 71 
 
 war,' that their countrymen might no more be mu-- 
 dered by military quacks. 
 
 As a hint to American officers, I think it my duty 
 to state the following fact : — Our fatal attack on Sa- 
 vannah was made very early in the morning. A few 
 hours previous thereto, a council of war was held ; 
 and while it was deliberating, a deserter and spy had 
 the address to bear a musket, as sentinel at the door 
 of the marquee 1 i On hearing where the attack was 
 to be made, he ran off in the dark, and gave such in- 
 telligence to the enemy, as enabled them very com- 
 pletely to defeat us. The fellow was afterwards 
 taken at the battle of Hobkirk Hill, near Camden, 
 and hung. 
 
 Scarcely had we finished burying the dead, before 
 the count D'Estang hurried on board his ships with 
 his troops and artillery, while we, passing on in si- 
 lence by the way of Zubley's ferry, returned to Caro- 
 lina, and pitched our tents at Sheldon, the country 
 seat of general Bull. 
 
 The theatre of war being, from this period, and 
 for some time at least, removed to the northern 
 states, the governor and council were pleased to re- 
 duce the regiments, and dismiss the supernumerary 
 officers. To some of my brethren in arms, this was 
 matter of serious alarm. But for myself, possessing, 
 thank God, a liberal fortune in the country, and feel 
 ing no attraction to the camp, except when drawn 
 thither by public danger, I was quite happy to hear 
 of this new arrangement, and waited on his excel- 
 lency to return my commission. 
 
 Perhaps some may say it was pride in me, and 
 that I did not like the idea of being unfrocked. Why, 
 as to that matter, it is not for me to boast of my 
 standing among my superiors in those days. But 
 this I must needs say, that it is joy enough, and 
 glory enough too, for me to know, that I was always 
 the favorite of the great Marion ; and that he sel- 
 
72 THE LIFE OF 
 
 (lorn ever asked the lightning of any other sword 
 than inine, to lead his squadron to the charge. How- 
 ever, the moment I heard, as above, that it was in 
 at^itation to reduce the rejiinaents, I waited on the 
 governor, and begged that, as there was nothing 
 doing, he would allow me to return to my planta- 
 tion. To my plantation I did return, and there con- 
 tinued till spring, 1780, when Charleston was taken 
 by the liritish ; at which time, and for some weeks 
 before, I was grievously afflicted with the rheuma- 
 tism. Thus by a providence, which, I confess, I did 
 not at that time altogether like, I was kindly saved 
 from being kidnapped by the enemy, and also intro- 
 duced into a field of some little service, I hope, to my 
 country, and of no great dishonor to myself. How- 
 ever, be this as it may, the reader shall soon see, and 
 then let him judge for himself. 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 Providential escape of Marion out of Cliarleston — the British 
 fleet and army invest and take that place — Turlcton and the 
 Briti.^ii officers boirin to let out — young Scotch IMacdonald 
 comes upon the turf — extraordinary anecdote of hirn — plays 
 a very curious trick on a rich old tory. 
 
 How happy it is for man, that the author of his 
 being loves him so much better than he loves him- 
 self; and has established so close a connexion between 
 his dufy and his advantage. This delightfid truth 
 was remarkably exemplified in an event that befel 
 Marion about ihis time, March, 1780. Dining with 
 a squad of choice wliigs, in Charleston, in the house 
 of Mr. Alexander M'Q leen, 'i'radd street, he was so 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 7;^ 
 
 frequently pressed to bumpers of old wine, that h* 
 found himself in a fair way to get drunk. 'Twes in 
 vain he attempted to beat a retreat. The company 
 swore, that tJiat would never do for general Marion. 
 Finding, at last, that there was no other way of es- 
 caping a debauch, but by leaping out of one of the 
 windows of the dining-room, which was on the se- 
 cond story, he bravely undertook it. It cost him, 
 however, a broken ankle. When the story got about 
 in Charleston, most people said he was a great fool 
 for his pains ; but the event soon proved that Ma- 
 rion was in the rights and that there is no policy like 
 sticking to a man's duty. For, behold ! presently 
 Charleston was invested by a large British army, and 
 the American general (Lincoln) finding Marion was 
 utterly unfit for duty, advised him to push off in a 
 litter to his seat in St. John's parish. Thus providen- 
 tially was Marion preserved to his country when 
 Charleston fell, as it soon did, with all our troops. 
 y^ The spirits of the British were so raised by the 
 capture of our metropolis with all the southern army, 
 that they presently began to scour the neighboring 
 country. And never victors, perhaps, had a country 
 more completely in their power. Their troops were 
 of the choicest kind ; excellently equipped, and com 
 manded by active, ambitious young fellows, who 
 looked on themselves as on the high road to fortune 
 among the conquered rebels. They all carried with 
 theln pocket maps of South Carolina, on which they 
 w^ere constantly pouring like young spendthrifts on 
 their fathers' last testaments. They would ?' .u- ds\s. a 
 world of questions, such as, " where lay the richest 
 lands? — and the finest- situations ? — and who were 
 the w^armest old fellows, and had the finest girls ?' 
 and when answered to their humor, they woulu 
 break out into hearty laughs ; and flourish thet. 
 swords, and whoop and hoic it away like young fox 
 ^unterg", just striking on a fresh trail. 
 
 7 
 
74 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Sofne of chem had Dr. ]\Iadan's famous book call- 
 ed " Thylipthora, or a Defence of Polyf^amy,'' with 
 which they were prodigiously taken, and talked very 
 freely of reducing the system to practice. Cornwal 
 lis, it seems, was to be a bashaw of ihree tails — Raw- 
 don and Tarleton, of two each — and as a natural ap- 
 pendage of such high rank, they were to have their 
 seraglios and harams filled with the irreatest beauties 
 of the country. 
 
 " Huzza, my brave fellows !" — they would say to 
 each other ; " one more campaign and the hash will be 
 settled with the d — d rebels, and then stand by the 
 girls ! — stand by the Miss Pinckneys ! and Elliots ! 
 and Rutledges! and all your bright-eyed, soft bosom- 
 ed, lovoly dames, look sharp! Egad! your charms 
 shall reward our valor ! like the grand Turk, we'll 
 have regiments of our own raising! Charleston shall 
 be our Constantinople ! and our Circassia, this sweet 
 Carolina famed for beauties! Prepare the baths, the 
 perfumes, and spices ! bring forth the violins and the 
 rose buds! and tap the old Madeira, that our souls 
 may all be joy !" 
 
 'Twas in this way they would rant; and then, 
 brightened up to the pitch, they would look and grin 
 on each other as sweetly as young foxes, who, prowl- 
 ing round a farm yard, had suddenly heard the cack- 
 ling of the rooster pullets. The reader shall present- 
 ly see the violent and bloody course of these ruffians, 
 who did such dishonor to the glorious island they 
 came from. But before I begin my tragedy, I beg 
 leave, ^^ way of prologue, to entertain him a moment 
 with a^ery cuiiousyarce that was acted on a wealthy 
 old tory, near I\Ionk's Corner, while colonel Tarleton 
 with the British advance, lay there. 
 
 The hero of the play was a remarkably stout, red- 
 haired young Scotsman, named Macdonakl, son of the 
 Macdonald of famous defeat at Morris Creek Bridge 
 North Carolina. Soon after tk« defeat of his father 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION 75 
 
 tie came and joined our troops. Led by curiosity,! 
 could not help, one day, asking him the reason : to 
 which he made, in substance, 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 mas- 
 sacre at Culloden. Well, they came to America, with 
 hardly any thing 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 told of the woeful battle of Culloden, and how the 
 English gave no quarter to our unfortunate country- 
 men, but butchered all they could overtake, these 
 generous people often gave us their tears, and said, 
 " ! that we had been there to aid with our rijles^ then 
 should many of these monsters have bit the ground.''^ 
 They received us into the bosoms of their peaceful 
 forests, and gave us their lands and their beauteous 
 daughters in marriage, and we became rich. And yet, 
 after all, soon as the English came to America, to 
 murder this innocent people, merely for refusing to 
 be their slaves, then my father and friends,, forgetting 
 all that the Americans had done for them, went and 
 joined the British, to assist them to cut the throats of 
 their best friends ! 
 
 " A'^ow,^^ said I to myself, ^'if ever there was a time 
 for God to stand up to punish ingratitude, this was 
 t/ie time.^'' And God did stand up : for he enabled the 
 
76 THE LVFE OF 
 
 Americans to defeat my father and his friends most 
 completely. But, instead of murderin*; the prison- 
 ers, as the English had done at Culloden, they treat- 
 ed us with their usual generosity. And now these are, 
 " the people I love and will fight for as long as I live," 
 And so he did fight for us, and as undauntedly too as 
 George Washington ever did. 
 
 This was young Scotch Macdonald. Now the cu- 
 rious trick which he played, is as follows.' 
 
 Soon as he heard that colonel Tarleton was en- 
 camped at jNIonk's Corner, he went the next morning 
 to a wealthy old tory of that neighborhood, and 
 passing himself for a sergeant of Colonel Tarleton's 
 corps, presented that officer's compliments, adding 
 that colonel Tarleton was just come to drive the re- 
 bels out of the country, and knowing him to be a 
 good friend of the king, begged he would send him 
 one of his best horses for a charger, and that he 
 should be no loser by it. 
 
 " Send him one of my finest horses !" cried the old 
 traitor, with eyes sj)arkling with joy ; " Yes, Mr. Ser- 
 geant, that I will, by gad ! and would send him one of 
 ray finest daughters too, had he but said the word. 
 A good friend of the king, did he call me, Mr. Ser- 
 geant? yes, God save his sacred majesty, a good 
 fiiend I am indeed, and a true. And, faith! I am 
 gl-ud too, Mr. Sergeant, that colonel knows it. Send 
 '.lim a charger to drive the rebels, heh .'' Yes, egad will 
 I send him one, and as proper a one too, as ever a 
 soldier straddled. Dick! Dick! I say you Dick!" 
 
 " Here, massa, here ! here Dick !" 
 
 *' Oh, you plaguy dog ! so I must always split my 
 throat with bawling, before I can get you to answer 
 heh ?" 
 
 ^^ High, massa! sure Dick always answer when he 
 hear massa hallo I^^ 
 
 " Y'^n do, you villain, do you ? — Well then, run ! 
 jump ! ri^ , you rascal, lly to the st<;blc, and bring rae 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 77 
 
 out Selim, ray young Seliin ! do you hear.-* you vil- 
 lain, do you hear.'"' 
 
 " Yes, massa, be sure /" 
 
 Then turning to Macdonald, he went on : "Well, 
 Mr. Sergeant, you have made me confounded glad 
 this morning, you may depend. And now suppose 
 you take a glass of peach ; of good old peach, Mr. 
 Sergeant ? do you think it would do you any harm .'"' 
 
 " Why, they say it is good of a rainy morning, 
 sir," replied Macdonald. 
 
 " yes, famous of a rainy morning, Mr. Sergeant ! 
 a mighty antifogmatic. It prevents you the ague, 
 Mr. Sergeant ; and clears a man's throat of the cob- 
 webs, sir." 
 
 " God bless your honor!" said Macdonald, as he 
 turned off a bumper of the high-beaded cordial. 
 
 But scarcely had he smacked his lips, before Dick 
 paraded Selim ; a proud, full-blooded, stately steed, 
 that stepped as though he disdained the earth he 
 walked upon. 
 
 Here the old fellow brightening up, broke out 
 again : " Aye ! there, Mr. Sergeant, there is a horse 
 for you ! isn't he, my boy .'"' 
 
 " Faith, a noble animal, sir," replied Macdonald. 
 
 " Yes, egad ! a noble animal indeed ! — a charger 
 for a king, Mr. Sergeant ! — Well, my compliments to 
 colonel Tarleton : tell him I've sent him a horse, my 
 young Selim, my grand Turk, do yo i hear, my son 
 of thunder .-* And say to the colonel that I don't 
 grudge him neither, for egad ! he's too noble for me, 
 ]\Ir. Sergeant. I've no work that's fit for him, sir ; 
 no! damme, sir, if there's any work in all this coun- 
 try that's good enough for him, but just that which 
 he is now going on ; the driving the d — d rebels out 
 of the land." 
 
 And in order to send Selim off in high style, he 
 ordered Dick to bring down his elegant new saddle 
 and holsters, with his silver-mounted pistols. Then 
 
78 THE LIFE OF 
 
 giving Macdonald a hot breakfast, and lending him 
 his great coat, as it was raining, he let him go, with 
 a promise that he would come next morning and see 
 how colonel Tarleton liked young Selim. 
 
 Accordingly next morning he waited on colonel 
 Tarleton, and told his name, with the smiling coun- 
 tenance of one who expected to be eaten up with 
 fondness. But alas I to his infinite mortification, 
 Tarleton heard his name without the least change of 
 feature. 
 
 After recovering a litlle from his embarrassment, 
 he asked colonel Tarleton how he liked his charger. 
 
 " Charger, sir !" re{)lied Tarleton. 
 
 " Yes, sir, the elegant horse I sent you yesterday." 
 
 " The elegant horse you sent me, sir!" 
 
 " Yes, sir, and by your sergeant, sir, as he called 
 himself." 
 
 " An elegant horse ! and by my sergeant ! Why 
 really, sir, I-I-I don't understand all this!" 
 
 The looks and voice of colonel Tarleton too sadly 
 convinced the old traitor that he had been bit ; and 
 that young Selim was gone ! then trembling and pale, 
 cried out, " Why, my dear good sir, did you not send 
 a sergeant yesterday with your compliments to me, 
 and a request that I would send you my very best 
 horse for a charger, which I did ?" 
 
 " No, sir, never !**' replied Tarleton : " I never sent 
 a sergeant on any such errand. Nor till this moment 
 did I ever know that there existed on earth such a 
 being as you." 
 
 To have been outwitted in this manner by a rebel 
 sergeant — to have lost his peach brandy — his hot 
 breakfast — his great coat — his new saddle — his silver 
 mounted pistols — and worse than all, his darling 
 horse, hijl^'oung, full-blooded, bounding Selim — all 
 these keen reflections, like so many forked lightnings, 
 falling at once on the train and tinder of his passions, 
 blew them up to such a diabolical rage that the old sin* 
 
GExN. FRANCIS MARION. 79 
 
 ner had like to have been suffocated on the spot. He 
 turned black in the face ; he shook throughout ; and 
 as soon as he could recover breath and power of 
 speech, he broke out into a torrent of curses, enough 
 to raise the hair on any Christian man's head. 
 
 Nor was colonel Tarleton much behind him, when 
 he came to learn what a noble horse had slipped 
 through his hands. And a noble horse he was in- 
 deed ! Full sixteen hands high; the eye of a haiok ; 
 the spirit of the king eagle ; a chest like a lion ; swifter 
 than a roebuck, and strong as a buffalo. 
 
 I asked Macdonald, how he could reconcile it to 
 himself to take the old poltroon's horse in that way ? 
 " Why, sir,'' replied he, " as to that matter, people 
 will think differently ; but for my part I hold that o// 
 is fair in war : and, besides, sir, if I had not taken 
 him colonel Tarleton, no doubt, would have got 
 him. And then, with such a swift strong charger as 
 this, he might do us as much harm as I hope to do to 
 them." 
 
 And he did do them harm with a vengeance ; for 
 he had no more sense of fear than a hungry tiger. 
 And, as to his strength, it was such, that with one of 
 Potter's blades he would make no more to drive 
 through cap and skull of a British dragoon, than a 
 boy would, with a case-knife, to chip off the head of 
 a carrot. And then, he always kept Selim up so lust- 
 ily to the top of his metal. He was so fond of him, 
 that I verily believe he would at any time have sold 
 the shirt off his back, to get corn for him. And truly 
 Selim was not much his debtor ; for, at the first flash 
 and glimpse of a red coat^ he would paw and champ 
 his iron bit with rage ; and the moment he'heard the 
 word "^0," off he was amonsi" them like a thunder- 
 bolt. 
 
 And to see how Macdonald would charge, you 
 would swear the fear of death was never before his 
 eyes. Whether it was ojie or teii against him, it made 
 
80 THE LIFE OF 
 
 no odds to this gallant Scotsman. He nev^er stopped 
 to count noses, but would dash in upon the thickest 
 of them, and fall to hewing and cutting down like a 
 very fury incarnate. 
 
 Poor Alacdonald ! the arm of his strength is now 
 in dust ; and his large red cheeks have, long ago 
 been food for worms : but never shall I forget when 
 first I saw him fight. 'Twas in the days when the 
 British held Georgetown ; and Marion had said to 
 me, " Go and reconnoitre." I took only Macdonald 
 with me. Before day we reached our place of con- 
 cealment, a thick clunftp of pines near the road, and 
 in full view of the enemy's lines. Soon as the bonny 
 grey-eyed morning began to peep, we heard the town 
 all alive, as it were, with drums and fifes ; and about 
 sunrise, beheld five dragoons turn out, and with 
 prancing steeds dash up the road towards us. I turned 
 my eye on Macdonald, and saw his face all kindled up 
 with the joy of battle. It was like that terrible joy 
 which flashes from the wves of an ambushed lion, when 
 he beholds the coming forth of the buffaloes towards 
 his gloomy cave. " Zounds, Macdonald," said J, 
 " here's an odds against us, five to two." " By my soul 
 now captain," he replied, " and let 'em come on. 
 Three are welcome to the svs'ord of Macdonald." 
 
 Soon as they Avere come fairly opposite to us, wc 
 gave them a blast from our bugles, and with drawn 
 sabres broke in upon them like a tornado. 
 
 Their panic was complete ; two we stopped, over- 
 thrown and weltering in the road. The remaining 
 three wheeled about, and taking to their heels, went 
 off as if old Nick had been bringing up the rear. 'J'hen 
 you might have heard the roar, and seen the dust, 
 which dragoons can raise, when, with whip and spur 
 and wildly rolling eyes, they bend forward from the 
 pursuit of death. My charger being but a heavy 
 brute, was soon distanced. I3ut they could not dis- 
 tance the swift-footed Selim. Rapiil as the deadly 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 8i 
 
 blast of the desert, he pursued their dusty course, still 
 gathering upon them at every jump. And before they 
 could reach the town, though so near, he brought his 
 furious rider alongside of two of them, whom he cut 
 down. One hundred yards further, and the third also 
 would have been slain ; for Macdonald, with his 
 crimson claymore, was within a few steps of him, 
 when the guns of the fort compelled him to retire. 
 However, though quickly pursued by the enemy, he 
 had the address to bring off an elegant horse of one 
 of the dragoons whom he had killed. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The abomination and desolation aet up in South Carolina — thR 
 author, with sorrowful heart, quits his native land, and flies 
 to the north in quest of warlike friends — fortunate rencontre 
 with his gallant friend colonel Marion — curious adventures. 
 
 After the capture of Charleston, with all our 
 troops, the British, as aforesaid, began to spread them- 
 selves over the country. Then was exhibited a spec 
 tacle, which for sadness and alarm, ought never to be 
 forgotten by the people of America. I mean how easy 
 a thing it is for a small body of soldiers to overrun a 
 populous and powerful country. The British did not, 
 after Sir Henry Clinton's return to New York, exceed 
 three thousand men ; and South Carolina alone, at the 
 lowest computation, must have contained fifty thou- 
 sand ! and yet this Aos^ of poor honest men were made 
 to tremble before that handful of ruffians, as a flock of 
 sheep before the wolf, or a household of little children 
 before a dark frowning pedagogue. The reason is 
 immensely plain. The British were all embodied and 
 fir0» as a rock of granite ; the Carolinians wer' scat- 
 
 8 
 
82 THE LIFE OF 
 
 tered over the country loose as a rope of sand : the 
 British all well armed and disciplined, moved in 
 dreadful harmony, G^iving their fire like a volcano : 
 the Carolinians, with no other than birding pieces, 
 and strangers to the art of war, were comparatively 
 feeble, as a forest of glow-worms : the British, though 
 but units in number, were so artfully arranged that 
 they told for myriads ; while, for lack of unity, the 
 Carolinians, though numerous as myriads, passed 
 only for ciphers. In short, the British were a handful 
 of hawks ; the poor Carolinians a swarm of rice-birds, 
 and rather than be plucked to the pin feather, or pick- 
 ed to the bone, they and their little ones, they were 
 fain to flatter those furious falcons, and oft times to 
 chirp and sing when they were much in the humor 
 to hate and curse. 
 
 Oh ! blind indeed, and doubly blind is that people, 
 • .id well worthy of iron yokes, who, enjoying all the 
 sweets of liberty, in a land of milk and honey, can 
 expose to foreign Philistines, that blessed Canaan, un- 
 guarded by Military science. Surely those who thus 
 throw " their pearl before swine," richly deserve that 
 the beast should turn again and trample them^ and 
 their treasures too, into the mire. Yes, and had it not 
 been for a better watch than our own, at this day, like 
 the wretched Irish, we should have been tramjilod 
 into the mire of slavery ; groaning under heavy bur- 
 dens to enrich our task-masters ; and doomed on 
 every fruitless attempt at freedom, to fatten the 
 buzzards with our gibbeted carcasses. 
 
 For lack of this habitual military preparation on 
 our part, in a few days after the fall of Charleston, 
 Col. Tarleton, with only one hundred and fifty horse, 
 galloped up to Georgetown, through the most popu- 
 lous part of the state, with as much hauteur as an 
 overseer and his boys would gallop through a negro 
 plantation ! To me this was the signal for clearing out. 
 Accordingly, though still in much pain from the rheu« 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 83 
 
 matistfl, I mounted my horse, and with sword ana 
 pistol by my side, set out for the northward, in quest 
 of friendly powers to aid our fallen cause. In passing 
 through Georgetown, I saw a distant group of peo- 
 ple, to whom I rode up, and with great civility, as 1 
 thought, askej the news. To which a young fellow 
 very scornfully replied, that " Colonel Tarleton was 
 coming, and that the country, thank God, would soon 
 be cleared of the continental colonels." 
 
 I was within an ace of drawing a pistol and shoot- 
 ing the young slave dead upon the spot. But God was 
 pleased to give me patience to bear up under that hea- 
 vy cross ; for which I have since very heartily thank- 
 ed him a thousand times and more. And indeed, on 
 thinking over the matter, it has often struck me, that 
 the man who could speak in that w^ay to one who had 
 on, as he saw, the American uniform, must be a sa- 
 vage, and therefore not an object of anger, but of pity. 
 But though my anger was soon over, nothing could 
 cure the melancholy into which this affair threw me. 
 To see my native country thus prostrate under fo- 
 reign usurpers, the generality quite disheartened, and 
 the few, who dared to take her part, thus publicly in- 
 sulted, was a shock I was not prepared for, and which, 
 therefore, sunk my spirits to the lowest ebb of despon- 
 dence. Such was the frame of mind wherein I left 
 my native stat-;, and set out, sick and alone, for the 
 northward, wuth scarce a hope of every seeing better 
 days. About the middle of the second day, as I beaf 
 my solitary road, slowly winding through the silent, 
 gloomy woods of North Carolina, I discovered, just 
 before me, a stranger and his servant. Instantly my 
 heart sprang afresh for the pleasures of society, and 
 quickening my pace, I soon overtook the gentleman, 
 when lo ! who should it be but the man first of all in 
 ray wishes, though the last in my expectations ; who, 
 I say, should it be but Marion! Our mutual surprise 
 was great " Good heavens I" we both exclaimed in 
 
Si THE LIFE OF 
 
 the sarae moment, " Is that colonel Marion ?" " Is* 
 that Horry ?" After the first transports of that joy. 
 which those who have been long absent from dear 
 friends, can better conceive than I describe, we be- 
 gan to inquire into each other's destinations, which 
 was found to be the same ; both flying to the north 
 for troops to fight the British. We had not rode far 
 when Marion, after looking up to the sun, who was 
 now past his half-way house, came suddenly to a halt, 
 and said, " Well, come Horry, I feel both peckish 
 and weary, and here is a fine shade, so let us go down 
 and rest, and refresh ourselves awhile." 
 
 Whereupon I dismounted ; and with the help of his 
 servant, for his ancle was yet very crazy, got him down 
 too. Then, sitting side by side, on the trunk of a 
 fallen pine, we talked over the mournful state of our 
 country ; and came at last, as we had always done, to 
 this solemn conclusion, that we would stand by her 
 like true children, and either conquer or die with her. 
 
 After this, a piece of dried beef was paraded, from 
 Marion's saddle-bags, with a loaf of Indian bread and 
 a bottle of brandy. The wealthy reader may smile at 
 this bill of fare ; but to me it was a feast indeed. For 
 joy, like a cordial, had so raised my spirits, and re- 
 invigorated my system, that I fed like a thresher. 
 
 I shall never forget an expression which Marion 
 let fall during our repast, and which, as things have 
 turned out, clearly shows what an intimate acquaint- 
 ance he had with human nature. I happened to say 
 that I was afraid " our happy days were all gone." 
 
 " Pshaw, Horry," he replied, " don't give way to 
 such idle fears. Our happy days are not all gone. On 
 the contrary, the victory is still sure. The enemy, it 
 is true, have all the trumps in their hands, and if 
 they had but spirit to play a generous game, would 
 certainly ruin us. 15ut they have no idea of that 
 game ; but will treat the people cruelly. And that 
 one thing will ruin them, and save America." 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. S5 
 
 " I pray God," said I, " it may be so." 
 
 " Well, don't be afraid," replied he, " you will as- 
 suredly nee it.'''' 
 
 Having despatched our simple dinner, we mounted 
 again and pursued our journey, but with feelings so 
 different from what I had before this meeting, as made 
 me more sensible than ever what a divine thing friend- 
 ship is. And well indeed it was for us that our hearts 
 were so rich in friendships for our pockets were as 
 bare of gold and silver as if there were no such metals 
 on earth. And but for carrying a knife, or a horse- 
 fleam, or a gun-flint, we had no more use for a pocket 
 than a Highlander has for a knee-buckle. As to hard 
 money, we had not seen a dollar for years ; and of old 
 continental, bad as it was, we had received but little, 
 and that little was gone away like a flash ; as the rea- 
 der may well suppose, w^hen he comes to learn, that 
 a bottle of rum would sweep fifty dollars. 
 
 And so here were two continental colonels of us, 
 just started on a journey of several hundred miles, 
 without a cent in pocket ! But though poor in gold, 
 we were rich in faith. Burning patriots ourselves, we 
 had counted on it as a certainty, that every body we 
 met, out of reach of the British, were as fiery as we, 
 and that the first sight of our uniforms would com- 
 mand smiling countenances, and hot suppers, and 
 downy beds, and mint slings ; and in short, everything 
 that our hearts could wish. But, alas and alack the 
 mistake ! For instead of being smiled on every where 
 along the road as the champions of liberty, we were 
 often grinned at as if we had been horse thieves. In 
 place of being hailed with benedictions, w^e were fre- 
 quently in danger from the brick bats ; and in lieu of 
 hot dinners and suppers, we were actually on the point 
 of starving, both we and our horses ! For in conse- 
 quence of candidly telling the publicans that, " we had 
 notJdng to pay,''^ fhey as candidly declared, " t/iey had 
 nothing to give,'''' and that " those that had no money 
 
36 THE LIFE OF 
 
 had no business to travel.'''' At length we came to the 
 resohition to say nothing about our porcr/]/, but, aflei 
 getting such things as we wanted, to give our due bills. 
 In this we felt ourselves perfectly warranted ; for we 
 had, both of us, thank God, very sufficient estates; 
 and besides, turning out, as we did, to fight for our 
 country, we thought we had, even by sacred precept, 
 a very fair claim on that country for a little food. 
 
 I remember, one evening, after dark, we reached a 
 tavern, the owner of which at first seemed very fond 
 of accommodating us. But as soon as a lighted wood 
 torch had given him a glimpse of our regimentals, 
 the rogue began io hem and ha, to tell us of ixmighti, 
 fine tavern about five miles further on. 
 
 We begged him to recollect that it was night, and 
 also very rainy, and as dark as pitch. 
 
 " lO/i/" quoth he, '* the road is mighty plain ; you 
 can't miss your loay.''^ 
 
 " But consider, sir, we are strangers." 
 
 " Oh ! I never liked strangers in all my life.'" 
 
 " But, sir, w'e are your countrymen, American offi- 
 cers, going to the north for men to fight your battles." 
 
 " Oh ! I wants nobody to fight my battles ; king 
 George is good^enough for me." 
 
 " But, sir, we have travelled all day long without 
 a mouthful for ourselves or horses." 
 
 To this also the brute was preparing some fit an 
 swer, when his wife, who appeared to be a very gen 
 teel woman, with a couple of charming girls, hoi: 
 daughters, rnn out and declared that " take us in he 
 could, and should, that he should ; and that he might as 
 well consent at first, for they would not be said nay." 
 
 Even against all this, he stood out for some time ; 
 till at length his wife reminded him, that though the 
 British were carrying every thing before them in 
 South Carolina, yet tliat \V;ishinglon was still in the 
 field, and the issue of the war unknown ; and that al 
 unv rate it was good to have afr'icnd at court. 
 
Pacro 86. 
 
 The Author and Marion expostulating with tha 
 Innkeeper 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 87 
 
 On this he came to a pause ; and at length reluc- 
 tantly drawled out, " Well — I suppose — you must — 
 come — in." 
 
 I have related this story, partly to show what a sa- 
 vage man would be without that softening, polishing 
 friend, a good wife. 
 
 Observing that we were wet and cold, this amiable 
 woman and her daughters soon had kindled up for us a 
 fine sparkling fire, to which their own sweetly smiling 
 looks gave tenfold cheerfulness and comfort. And 
 while the husband went poking about the house, si- 
 lent and surly as an ill-natured slave, the ladies dis- 
 played towards us the most endearing attentions. The 
 mother brought out from her closet a bottle of nice 
 family cordial, to warm and cheer us ; while the girls 
 presented basins of water and towels, that we might 
 wash and refresh ourselves after our fatigue. And 
 all these seasonable hospitalities they did, not with 
 that ungracious silence and reserve, which so often 
 depress the traveller's spirits, but with the charming 
 alacrity of daughters or sisters, so sweetening every 
 thing with smiles and sprightly chat as almost made 
 us feel ourselves at home. 
 
 As WMth deep struck thought, I compared our pre- 
 sent happy condition with that a few minutes before, 
 benighted^ wet and weary, I could not help exclaim- 
 ing, " O my God ! what pity it is that among so many 
 labors which poor mortals take under the sun, they 
 do not labor more for that which alone deserves their 
 care. I mean that love, which at once diffuses and 
 enjoys all the happiness both of earth and heaven." 
 
 At supper, the poor creature of a husband strove 
 very hard to draw Marion into a dispute, about what 
 he was pleased to call our " rebellion." I expect- 
 ed to have heard him lashed very severely for such 
 brutality ; for few men ever excelled Marion in the 
 retort abrupt. But every time the subject was intro- 
 duced, he contrived very handsomely to waive it, by 
 
88 THE Lii-t: uF 
 
 some ])relty turn to the ladies, which happily relieved 
 their terrors, and gave a fresh spring to general and 
 sprightly conversation. 
 
 As our excellent hostess and her fair daughters 
 were about to retire, we bade them good night, and 
 also adieu, telling them that we meant to ride very 
 early in the morning. To this they stoutly objected ^ 
 urging that, from our fatigue and fasting, we ought to 
 pass a day or two with them, and refresh ourselves. 
 But if we could not do this, we must at any rate stay 
 and give them the pleasure of our company at break 
 fast. 
 
 When we retired to our chamber, I asked Marion 
 why he had not given that brute, our landlortl, a 
 proper set doivn. 
 
 " I am surprised at you, Horry," he replied ; " when 
 you see that your fellow man is wretched, can't you 
 give him quarter 1 You must have observed, ever 
 since we darkened his door, that with spleen and tory- 
 ism, this poor gentleman is in the condition of him in 
 the parable, who was possessed of seven devils. Since 
 we have not the power to cast them out, let us not 
 torment him before his time. Besides, this excellent 
 woman his wife ; these charming girls his daughters. 
 They love him, no doubt, and therefore, to us, at 
 least, he ought to be sacred, because surrounded by 
 their affections." 
 
 The next morning while breakfast was preparing, 
 the churl renewed his hostilities, by telling us, with 
 a malignant pleasure in his face, that he and his 
 neighbors were making ready to go to South Caro- 
 lina for negroes. 
 
 " For negroes !" replied Marion ; " pray sir, what 
 do you mean by that ?" 
 
 *•' Why, sir," returned he, " South Carolina is now 
 , all one as connuered by the British, and why may we 
 not go and pick up what negroes we can ? They 
 would help n^e in my corn-field yonder." 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 89 
 
 Marion asked him whether, if he were to find his 
 negroes, he would think it right to take them ? 
 
 " To be sure I would," answered he. " You great 
 men who choose to fight against your king, are all ^ 
 now running away. And why may I not go and catch 
 your negroes as well as any body else .'"' 
 
 " My God !" replied Marion, with a deep sigh, 
 " what will this world come to ?" and turned the 
 conversation. 
 
 Soon as breakfast was over, we took leave of this 
 most unequally yoked couple and their lovely daugh- 
 ters, and continued our journey. We had not got far 
 from the house when Marion's servant rode up, and, 
 with a very smirking face, told his master that he be- 
 lieved the gentlewoman where we stayed last night 
 must be a monstrous fine lady ! Marion asked him 
 why he thought so. " Why, sir," replied he, " she 
 not only made me almost burst myself with eating 
 and drinking, and all of the very best, but she has 
 gone and filled my portmanteau too, filled it up chock 
 full, sir! A fine ham of bacon, sir, and a pair of 
 roasted fowls, with two bottles of brandy, and a mat- 
 ter of a peck of biscuit." 
 
 " God bless the dear lady !" we both exclaimed at 
 the same moment. And I trust God did bless her. 
 For indeed to us she was a kind angel, who not only 
 refreshed our bodies, but still more, feasted our souls. 
 
 And though eight and twenty long years have 
 rolled away since that time, I can still see that angel 
 smile which brightened on her face towards us, and 
 the memory of which springs a joy in my heart be- 
 yond what the memory of his money bags ever gave 
 to the miser. 
 
 On the evening of the same day that we left this 
 charming family, (I mean the fairer part of it) we 
 reached the house of colonel Thatcher, one of the no- 
 ■jlest whig? in North Carolina. His eyes seemed as 
 Plough thev would never tire in gazing on our regi 
 
 8* 
 
90 THE LIFE OF 
 
 mentals. We soon gave him the history of our tra- 
 vels through his native state, and of the very uncivil 
 manner in which his countrymen had treated us. He 
 smiled, and bid us be thankful, for that it was en- 
 tirely of God's mercy that we had come off so well. 
 "Those people," continued he, "are mere Hotten- 
 tots ; a set of unenlightened miserable tories, who 
 know nothing of the grounds of the war ; nothing of 
 the rights and blessings we are contending for ; nor 
 of the corruptions and cruelties of the British minis- 
 try ; and are therefore just as ready to fall into their 
 destructive jaws, as young cat-birds are to run into 
 the mouth of a rattle-snake." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Glorious news — a brave army of continentals coming up — Ma- 
 rion and the author hasten to meet tliem at Koanoke — fortu- 
 nately get introduced to the baron de Kalb — polite reception 
 by that amiable officer — curious and interesting conversation. 
 
 After spending two days of very welcome re- 
 pose with the elegant colonel Thatcher, we took leave 
 and set out for Hillsborough, where we met general 
 Huger and colonel W. White, of the horse, who told 
 us the glorious news, that " Washington had sent on 
 a gallant detachment of continentals, who were now 
 in full march to aid South Carolina." 
 
 Our hearts leaped for joy at the news. So great 
 was our impatience to see what our hearts had so long 
 and so fondly dwelt on, an army of friends^ that we 
 could not wait until they came up, but hurried off in- 
 stantly to meet them at Roanoke, where it was said 
 lliey were crossing. On reaching the river, we found 
 that they had all got over, and had just formed their 
 line of march. Oh ! how lovely is the sight of friends 
 m the day of our danger! We have had many mill- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 91 
 
 tary corps, but none had ever interested us like this. 
 In shining regimentals and glittering arras, they 
 moved before the eye of the glowing fancy like a host 
 of heroes. 
 
 Thrice happy for man, that a veil, dark as the grave, 
 is thrown over future events ! For how could we, 
 who had seen one fine army butchered at Savannah, 
 and another captured at Charleston, have borne up 
 under the dreadful prospect of having this gallant 
 armament also destroyed in a few days! 
 
 Soon as our first paroxysm of joy had a little sub- 
 sided, we moved toward head quarters, where we 
 had the good fortune to fall in with our old friend Col. 
 Semp, who appeared overjoyed to see us, and imme- 
 diately offered to introduce us to the general. His ex- 
 cellency Horatio Gates was the commander in chief, 
 but as he had not yet arrived, the command rested on 
 that brave old German general, the baron de Kalb. 
 
 It was to this officer that colonel Semp introduced^ 
 us, and, as was usual with him, in very flattering- 
 terms; styling us "continental colonels, and two of 
 the wealthiest and most distinguished patriots of 
 South Carolina!" 
 
 I shall never forget what I felt when introduced 
 to this gentleman. He appeared to be rather elderly. 
 But though the snow of winter was on his locks, his 
 cheeks were still reddened over with the bloom of 
 spring. His person was large and manly, above the 
 common size, with great nerve and activity ; while 
 his fine blue eyes expressed the mild radiance of in- 
 telligence and goodness. 
 
 He received us very politely, saying he was glad to 
 see us, "especially as we were the first Carolinians that 
 he had seen ; which had not a little surprised him." 
 
 Observing, I suppose, that we labored under ra- 
 ther too much of our national weakness, I mean mo- 
 desty, he kindly redoubled his attentions to us, and 
 soon succeeded in curing us of our reserve. 
 9 
 
92 THE LIFE Of 
 
 " I thought," said he, " that British tyranny would 
 hare sent great numbers of the South Carolinians to 
 join our arms. But, so far from it, they are all, as 
 we have been told, running to take British protec- 
 tions. Surely they are not tired already of fighting 
 for liberty." 
 
 We told him the reason was very plain to us, who 
 were inhabitants of that country, and knew very well 
 the state of things there. 
 
 " Aye," replied he, " well, what can the reason 
 be ?" 
 
 " Why, sir," answered Marion, " the people of 
 Carolina form but two classes, the rich and the poor. 
 The poor are generally very poor, because, not being 
 necessary to the rich, who have slaves to do all their 
 work, they get no employment from them. Being 
 thus unsupported by the rich, they continue poor and 
 low spirited. They seldom get money; and indeed, 
 what little they do get, is laid out in brandy to raise 
 their spirits, and not on books and new^spapers to get 
 information. Hence they know nothing of the com- 
 parative blessings of their own country, nor of the 
 great dangers which threaten it, and therefore care 
 nothing about it. As to the other class, the rich, 
 the/ are generally very rich, and consequently afraid 
 to stir, unless a R^ir chance offer, lest the British 
 should burn their houses and furniture, and carry off 
 their negroes and stock. But permit me to assure 
 you, sir, that though thus kept under by fear, they 
 still mortally hate the British, and will, I am confi- 
 dent, the moment they see an army of friends at their 
 door, lly to their standard, like a generous pack to 
 the sound of the horn that calls them to the chase of 
 a hated wolf." 
 
 The baron de Kalb smiled, and said he hoped it 
 would be found so. 
 
 " No doubt of it at all sir,'' replied Marion. 
 
 The baron then invited us to dine o'ith him, but 
 
CrEN. FRANCIS MARION. 93 
 
 added, smiling, that he hoped v,-e had good mihtary 
 stomachs that could relish and digest plain fare, 
 which was all he could promise us, and perhaps 
 hardly enough of that. 
 
 On sitting down to table, we found that his predic- 
 tion about the bill of fare, was most unwekomely 
 true. Our dinner was just half aside of a miserably 
 poor hog, as miserably cooked ; and in such small 
 quantity, that before we were done there was nothing 
 of it left but a rasher, for good mamiers^ sake. And 
 as to bread, there was not even a hoe-cake ! It is true, 
 that, by way of substitute, we had a trencher or two 
 of sweet potatoes paraded. Our drink was admirably 
 suited to the dinner; apple brandy with river water. 
 
 God forbid that I should be unmindful of his fa- 
 vors ! For well do I know that the least of them is 
 much better than the best of us deserve. On the con- 
 trary, I mention it rather as a compliment to his 
 heavenly bounty, which is wont to spread our tables 
 with so many dainties, as to cause even roast pigs 
 and sweet potatoes to pass for a sorry meal. 
 
 Soon as dinner was over, all of us who could pa- 
 rade a segar or a pipe, began to comfort our olfacto- : 
 ries with a puff, not forgetting our brandy the while, 
 so that by the time we had got well entrenched in 
 clouds of fragrant kite-foot, we were in admirable cue 
 for a dish of chat. De Kalb led the way ; and, fs 
 nearly as I can recollect, in the following words. 
 
 " Colonel Marion," said he, pressing the tobacco 
 in his pipe at the same time, " can you answer me 07ie 
 question?" 
 
 " Most gladly, general, and a thousand if I can !" 
 
 " Thank you, colonel, but one will do." 
 
 " Be pleased then, sir, to say on." 
 
 " Well, colonel, can you tell me how old I am ,'" 
 
 " That's a tough question, general." 
 
 " Tough, colonel ! pray how do you make that out ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, there is a strange January and May sort 
 
94 THE LIFE OF 
 
 of contrast between your locks and your looks that 
 quite confuses me. By your locks you seem to be in 
 the winter, by your looks in the summer of your days." 
 
 " Well but, colonel, striking the balance between 
 the two, whereabouts do you take me to be ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, in the spring and prime of life ; about 
 forty." 
 
 *' Good heavens, ybr/^.'" 
 ' Yes, sir, that's the mark ; there or thereabouts." 
 
 " What ! no more ?" 
 
 " No, sir, not a day more ; not an hour," 
 
 " Upon honor?" 
 
 *' Yes, sir, upon honor ; upon a soldier's honor." 
 
 " Ha !— ha !— ha !— Well, colonel, I would not for 
 a thousand guineas that your ritleraen shot as wide 
 off the mark as you guess. The British would not 
 dread them as they do. Forty years old, indeed ! why 
 what will you say, colonel, when I tell you that I 
 have been two and forty years a soldier." 
 
 Here we all exclaimed, " Impossible, general ! im- 
 possible." 
 
 " I ask your pardon, gentlemen," replied he, " it 
 is not at all impossible, but very certain. Very cer- 
 tain that I have been two and forty years asoldierin 
 the service of the king of France!" 
 
 "0 wonderful! two and forty years ! Well then, 
 ^ that rate, and pray how old, general, may you take 
 yourself to be ?" 
 
 " Why, gentlemen," replied he, " man and boy, I 
 am now about sixty-three." 
 
 " Good heaven ! sixty-three' and yet such bloom, 
 such flesh and blood !" 
 
 " If you are so surprised, gentlemen, at my looks 
 at sixty-three, what would you have thought had you 
 seen ray father at eighty-seven." 
 
 "Your father, general! he cannot be alive yet, 
 sure." 
 
 ^* Alive ! yes, thank God, and alive like to be, I 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION 9g 
 
 hope, for many a good year to come yet. Noiv, gen- 
 tlemen, let me tell you a little story of my father. The 
 very Christmas before I sailed for America, I went 
 to see him. It was three hundred miles, at least, from 
 Paris. On arriving at the house I found my dear old 
 mother at her wheel, in her eighty-third year, mind 
 gentlemen! ! spinning very gaily, while one of her 
 great granddaughters carded the w^ool and sung a 
 hymn for her. Soon as the first transport of meeting 
 was over, I eagerly asked for my father. ' Do not 
 be uneasy, my son,' said she, ' your father is only 
 gone to the woods with his three little great grand- 
 children, to cut some fuel for the fire, and they will 
 all be here presently, I'll be bound !' And so it 
 proved ; for in a very short time I heard them coming 
 along. My father was the foremost, with his axe under 
 his arm, and a stout billet on his shoulder ; and the 
 children, each with his little load, staggering along, 
 and prattling to my father with all their might. Be 
 assured, gentlemen, that this was a most delicious 
 moment to me. Thus after a long absence, to meet a 
 beloved father, not only alive, but in health and dear 
 domestic happiness above the lot of kings : also to see 
 the two extremes of human life, youth and age, thus 
 sweetly meeting and mingling in that cordial love, 
 which turns the cottage into a paradise." 
 
 In telling this little story of his aged father and h^ 
 young relatives, the general's fine countenance caughr 
 an animation which perfectly charmed us all. 
 
 The eyes of Marion sparkled with pleasure. " Ge- 
 neral," said he, " the picture which you have given 
 us of your father, and his little great grandchildren, 
 though short, is extremely interesting and delightful. 
 It confirms me in an opinion which I have long en- 
 tertained, w^hich is, that there is more happiness in 
 low life than in high life ; in a cottage than in a castle. 
 Pray give us, general, your opinion of that matter." 
 
 " Why,'' replied De Kalb, " this opinion of yours, 
 
96 THE LIFE OF 
 
 colonel, is not a novel one by any means. It was the 
 opinion of Rousseau, Fenelon, and of many other great 
 men, and elegant \vriiers. But notwithstandinij such 
 high authority, I must still beg leave to be a dissenter. 
 I have seen so many people happy and also unhappy, 
 both in cottages and castles, that I cannot but con- 
 clude, that happiness does not belong, pecuiliarly, to 
 either condition, but depends on something very dif- 
 ferent from, and infinitely superior to both." 
 
 We eagerly asked what he alluded to, 
 
 " Why, gentlemen," replied he, " since you have 
 been so polite as to ask my opinion, I will as frankly 
 give it, though I am afraid it will seem very odd, es- 
 pecially coming from a soldier. However, be that as 
 it may, my opinion you have asked, and my opinion 
 you shall have ; which is, that religion is the only 
 thing to make a man happy in cottages or courts," 
 
 The young officers began to stare. 
 
 Gathering from their looks, that some of the com- 
 pany did not relish this kind of philosophy, he quick 
 ly thus resumed his speech. 
 
 " Pardon ! gentlemen, I beg pardon ! I must not be 
 misunderstood. By religion^ I don't mean priest 
 craft. I don't mean that superstitious grimace ; that 
 rolling up of white eyes, and spreading of sanctified 
 palrns ; with ^disfigured faces and long prayers,'' and 
 ^11 the rest of that holy trumpery, which, so far from 
 making people cheerful, tends but to throw them into 
 the dumps. But I mean, by religion, that divine ef- 
 fort of the soul, which rises and embraces the great 
 author of its being with flial ardor, and walks and 
 converses with him, as a dutiful child with his revered 
 father. Now gentlemen, [ would ask, all prejudice 
 apart, what is there can so exalt the mind and gladden 
 the heart, as this high friendship with heav:n, and 
 those immortal hopes that spring from religion?" 
 
 Here one of the compauy, half blushing, as palpa- 
 bly convicted by the truth of the general's argument 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 97 
 
 smartly called out — '• Well but, general, don't you 
 think we can do pretty well here in camp, without 
 religion V 
 
 •' What !" replied De Kalb, " would you give it all 
 up to the priests?" 
 
 "Yes, to be sure I would," said the young officer, 
 " for I am for every man's following his own trade, 
 general. They are priests, and we are soldiers. So 
 let them do all the praying, and we will do all the 
 fighting y 
 
 " Why, as to the fighting part," rejoined De Kalb, 
 " I have no objection to doing all that for the priests, 
 especially as their profession does not allow them to 
 fight for themselves. But as to giving them up all 
 the devotion, I confess I am not so liberal. No ! no! 
 gentlemen, charity begins at home ; and I am not 
 for parting with pleasure so easily." 
 
 "Pleasure!'' replied the young ofiScer with a 
 sneer. 
 
 " Yes, sir, pleasure,^^ returned De Kalb. "Accord- 
 ing to my creed, sir, piety and pleasure are synony- 
 mous terms ; and I should just as sood think of living 
 physically, without bread, as of living pleasantly, 
 without religion. For what is religion, as I said be- 
 fore, but HABITUAL FRIENDSHIP WITH GoD ? And 
 
 what can the heart conceive so delightful? Or what 
 can so gratify it in all its best and strongest desires. 
 For example, gentlemen, we are all fond of honor. 
 I, for my part, am fond of the friendship of the king 
 of France. You glory in the friendship of the great 
 Washington. Then what must be the glory of him 
 who is in friendship with God? Again, gentlemen, 
 we are all born to love, to admire, to adore. If a 
 man have no love, he is gloomy. If he love a worth- 
 less object, he is mortified. But if he love a truly 
 worthy object, his face shines, his eyes sparkle, his 
 voice becomes sweet, and his whole air expressive of 
 cheerfulness. And as this happy feeling must, in thi 
 
 9 
 
98 Tl!!'] LITE OF 
 
 nature of things, kenp pace with (he excellence of the 
 object that is beloved, then what must be the cheerful- 
 ness of hira who loves the greatest, best, and loveliest 
 of all beings, whose eternal perfections and goodness 
 can for ever make him happier than heart can ask or 
 think ? 
 
 " In a word, gentlemen, though I am a soldier, and 
 soldiers you know are seldom enthusiasts in this way, 
 yet I verily believe, as I said before, that a man of 
 enlightened and fervent piety must be infinitely hap- 
 pier in a cottage, than an irreligious emperor in his 
 palace." 
 
 In the height of this extraordinary conversation, 
 an officer stepped in and announced the arrival of 
 general Gates. 
 
 And here, as I have in this chapter given the reader 
 what the jockies call a pretty long heat, I beg leave to 
 order a halt and allow him a little time to breathe. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Gen. Gates — bon mot of British general Lee — how an army 
 ought not to march — De Kalb prophecies — chickens counted 
 before they are liatchcd, alias, lUarion ond the author sent by 
 Gen. Gates to prevent the escape of Cornwallis, before he 
 had run — the British and American armies meet — Gates and 
 his militia-men leave De Kalb in the lurch — his gallant be- 
 havior, and glorious death. 
 
 When a poor fellow is going down hill, it is but 
 loo common, they say, for every body to give hira a 
 Kick. 
 
 " Let (logs delight to bark and bite, 
 '• For heaven halh made them bo." 
 
 But, if 1 know myself aright, I can truly say, that 
 nothing of this vile spirit suggests a syllable of whai 
 
GKN. FRANCIS MARION. 99 
 
 Inow write of the unfortunate general Gates. On 
 the contrary, I feel an ardent wish to speak hand^ 
 somely of him ; and in one view of him I can so speak. 
 As a gentleman, few camps or courts ever produced 
 his superior. But though a perfect Chesterfield at 
 court, in camp he was certainly but a Paris. 'Tis 
 true, at Saratoga he got his temples stuck round with 
 laurels as thick as a May-day queen with gaudy flow- 
 ers. And though the greater part of this was certain- 
 ly the gallant workmanship of Arnold and Morgan, 
 yet did it so hoist general Gates in the opinion of the 
 nation, that many of his dear friends, with a prudent 
 regard, no doubt, to their own dearer selves, had the 
 courage to bring him forward on the military turf 
 and run him for the generalissimoship against the 
 great Washington. But though they were not able to 
 prospei him in this mad attempt, yet they so far suc- 
 ceeded as to get him the command of the army of 
 Carolina, where his short and calamitous career soon 
 caused every good patriot to thank God for continu- 
 ing to his servant Washington, the command of the 
 ^.merican armies. 
 
 On his way from the northern states, general 
 Gates passed through Fredericksburg, where he fell 
 in with general Charles Lee, who, in his frank man- 
 ner, asked him where he was going. 
 
 " Why, to take Cornwallis." 
 
 " I am afraid," qucMi Lee, " you will find him a 
 tough piece of English beef." 
 
 " Tough, sir," replied Gates ; " tough ! then begad 
 I'll tender him. I'll make piloo of him, sir, in three 
 hours after I set eyes upon him." 
 
 " Aye! will you indeed ?" returned Lee. " Well 
 then send for me, and I will go and help you to eat 
 him." 
 
 Gates smiled ; and bidding him adieu, rode off. 
 Lee bawled after him, " Take care, Gates ! take caie ' 
 
100 '^Ht: LIFE OK 
 
 or your northern laurels will degenerate into south 
 ern '.villous." 
 
 The truth is, though general Lee was extremel) 
 splenetic, other than which, such a miserable olo 
 bachelor and injidel could hardly be, yet he certainly had 
 a knack of telling peoj)Ie's fortunes. By viitue of this 
 faculty he presently discovered that general Gates 
 was no Fabius ; but on the contrary, too much inclin- 
 ed to the fatal rashness of his unfoitunate colleague. 
 
 And so it turned out. For, from the moment he 
 joined the army, he appeared to act like one who 
 thought of nothing but to have it proclaimed of him 
 in all the newspapers on the continent, that in so many 
 days, hours, minutes, and seconds, he flew from Phi- 
 ladelphia to South Carolina, saw, fought and coii' 
 quered Cornwallis ; and flew back again with the tro- 
 phies of a second liritish army vanquished. Instead 
 of moving on as old De Kalb had done, with a pru- 
 dent regard to the health and refreshment of the 
 troops, he, Jehu like, drove them on without regard 
 to either. He would not take the lower road, as De 
 Kalb earnestly adxised, through a ricii and j)lcntiful 
 country. Oh no ; that was too round about ; would 
 too long have delayed his promised glory. 
 
 Like an eagle shaking his bold pinions in the clouds 
 of his pride, he must dash down at once upon his prey ; 
 and so, for a near cut, take us through a pine barren, 
 sufficient to have starved a forlo'n hope of caterpillars. 
 I shall make no attempt to describe the suilerings of 
 the army. For, admitting that I should not lack words, 
 my reader would, I am sure, lack faith. Indeed, at 
 this season, when the old crop was gone and the new 
 not quite come in, what had we to expect, especial. y 
 in such a miserable country, where many a family goes 
 without dinner, unless the father can knock down a 
 squirrel in the woods, or his pale sickly boy pick up a 
 terrapin in the swamps? We did, indeed, sometimes 
 fall in with a iittle corn ; bui then, tlit; poor, skinny, 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION IQl 
 
 sun-burnt women, with long uncombed tresses, and 
 shrivelled breasts hanging down, would run scream- 
 ing to us, with tears in their eyes, declaring that if vve 
 took away their corn, they and their children must 
 perish. Such times I never saw, and I pray God, I 
 may never see nor hear of again ; for, to tiiis day, the 
 bare thought of it depresses my spirits. But perhaps) 
 I ought to think of it, and often too, that I may be the/ 
 more thankful to him who never, but in that one in-) 
 stance, permitted me to suffer, except in thinking of it. j 
 
 There was one case in particular which I shall 
 never forget. Almost spent with fatigue and fasting, 
 we halted one cv^ening near the house of a man, whos 
 plantation bespoke him a tolerably good liver. He met i 
 us wuth a countenance strongly marked with terror, 
 and begged for God's sake we would not ruin him, for 
 that he had a large family of children to maintain. 
 We told him that we were soldiers fighting for the 
 country, and that it would never do for us to starve. 
 Understanding from this that we meant to forage upon 
 him that night, he heaved a deep sigh, and turning 
 about, went off' without saying another word. I must 
 confess I could not help feeling very sensibly for him, 
 especially when we saw his little white-headed chil- 
 dren, in melancholy groups, peeping at us around the 
 corners of the house. 
 
 His young corn, which seemed to cover about fifty 
 acres, was just in the prime, roasting ear state, and 
 he had also a couple of beautiful orchards of peach 
 and apple trees, loaded with young fruit. Scarcely 
 were our tents pitched, before the whole army, foot 
 and horse, turned in to destroy. The trees were all 
 threshed in a trice ; after which the soldiers fell, like 
 a herd of wild boars, upon the roasting ears, and the 
 horses upon the blades and stalks, so that by morn- 
 ing light there was no sign or symptom left that corn 
 had ever grown there since the creation of the world. 
 What became of the poor man and his children God 
 
 9* 
 
102 '^'"E LIFE OF 
 
 only knows, for by sunrise we were all under march« 
 ing orders again, bending for the south. I said all, 
 but I only meant all that were able. For numbers 
 were knocked up every night by agues, Jluxes, and 
 other maladies, brought on by excessive fatigue and 
 lack of food. 
 
 I once before observed how highly the baron de 
 Kalb had been pleased to think o^ Marion and myself 
 travelling so far to meet him. His liking for us grew 
 so fast, that we had not been with him more than two 
 days, before he appointed us his supernumerary aids. 
 We were, of course, much in his company, and en- 
 trusted, I believe, with every thought of his bosom 
 that related to the good of the army. He made no 
 scruple to tell us how utterly unmilitary those pro- 
 ceedings were ; and frequently foretold the ruin that 
 would ensue. 
 
 " Here," said lie, " we are hurrying to attack ar 
 enemy, who, if they but knew our condition, would 
 long for nothing so much as our arrival. We, two- 
 thirds at least, raw militia ; they, all regulars. We, 
 fatigued ; they, fresh. We, feeble and faint through 
 long fasting; they, from high keeping, as strong and 
 fierce as game cocks or butchers' bull dogs. It does 
 'not signify, gentlemen ; it is all over with us ; our 
 army is lost as sure as ever it comes into contact 
 with the British. I have hinted tliese things more 
 than once to general (Jafos, but he is an olficer who 
 will take no counsel but his own." 
 
 The truth is, general Gates was one of that crazy- 
 brained quality, to whom it is a misfortune to be 
 fortunate. The least c/rom of success would intoxi- 
 cate and make h'lm Jhol hardy. He could never bring 
 himself to believe, as he used to say, that " lord 
 Cornwallis would dare to look him in the face." 
 
 So confident, indeed, was he of victory, that on the 
 morning before the fatal action, he ordereil Marion 
 and myself to hasten on to Santee river, and destroy 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 1Q3 
 
 every scow, boat, or canoe, that could assist an Eng- 
 lishman in his flight to Charleston ! 
 
 Immediately on receiviVig orders, we waited on 
 the good old De Kalb to take leave ; and also to as- 
 sure him of our deep regret at parting with him. 
 
 " It is with equal regret, my dear sirs," said he, 
 *' that I part v;ith you, because I feel a presentiment 
 that we part to meet no more." 
 
 We told him we hopeil better things. 
 
 " Oh no !" replied he, " it is impossible. War is a 
 kind of game, and has its Jixed rules, whereby, when 
 we are well acquainted with them, we can pretty cor- 
 rectly tell how the trial will go. To-morrow, it seems, 
 the die is to be cast, and in my judgment, without 
 the least chance on our side. The militia will, I sup- 
 pose, as usual, play the back-game, that is, get out of 
 the scrape as fast as their legs can carry them. But 
 that, you know, won't do for me. I am an old soldiery 
 and cannot run : and I believe I have with me some 
 brave fellows that will stand by me to the last. So 
 that, when you hear of our battle, you will probably 
 hear that your old friend De Kalb is at rest." 
 
 I do not know that I was ever more affected in my 
 life. I looked at Marion and saw that his eyes were 
 watery. De Kalb saw it too, and taking us by the 
 hand, with a firm tone, and animated look, said, " No ! 
 no ! gentlemen ; no emotions for me but those of con- 
 gratulation. I am happy. To die is the irreversible 
 decree of him who made us. Then what joy to be 
 able to meet his decree without dismay ! This, thank 
 God, is my case. The happiness of man is my wish, 
 that happiness I deem inconsistent with slavery. — 
 And to avert so great an evil from an innocent peo- 
 ple, I will gladly meet the British to-morrow, at any 
 odds whatever." 
 
 As he spoke this, I saw a something in his eyes 
 vvhich at once demonstrated the divinity of virtue 
 and the immortality of the soul. 
 
104 THE LIFE Of- 
 
 With sorrowful hearts we then left him, and with 
 reelings which I shall never forget, while memory 
 maintains her place in this my aged brain. 
 
 " Oh my God !" said Marion, as we rode off", "what 
 a difference does education make between man and 
 man ! Erdightened by her sacred ray, see here is the 
 native of a distant country, come to figlit for our 
 liberty and happiness, while many of our own people, 
 for lack of education^ are actually aiding the British 
 to heap chains and curses upon themselves and ciiil- 
 dren." 
 
 It was on the morning of August the 15th, 1780, 
 that we left the army in a good position near Ruge- 
 ley's mills, twelve miles from Camden, where the 
 enemy lay. About ten o'clock that night orders were 
 given to march to surprise the enemy, who had at 
 the same time commenced their march, to surprise 
 the Americans. To their mutual astonishment, the 
 advance of the two armies met about two o'clock, and 
 began to fire on each other. The firing, however, was 
 soon discontinued by both parties, who appeared very 
 ivilling to leave the matter to be decided by daylight. 
 
 A council of war was called : in which De Kalb ad- 
 vised that the army should fall back to Rugeley's mills, 
 and there, in a good position, wait to be attacked. — 
 
 But Gates not only rejected this excellent counsel, 
 but threw out suspicions that it originated from fear. 
 Upon this, the brave old De Kalb called to his ser- 
 vant to take his iiorse, and leaping on llu; ground, 
 placed himself at the head of his commanil,on foot. 
 To this indecent expression of general Gates, he also 
 retorted with considerable warmth, " Well, sir, a few 
 hours perhaps will let us see who are the brave." 
 
 It should Le recorded for the benefit of our officers, 
 many of whose laurelshave been blasted by the fumes 
 of brandy, that general Gates was rather too fond of 
 his nocturnal glass. 
 
 " I wonder where we shall dine to-morrow r" said 
 
GEN. FRAiNCIS MARION. IQo 
 
 one of his officers, as, in the dark, they sat on thei> 
 sleepy horses waiting for the day. 
 
 "Dine, sir!" replied the confident Gates, "why 
 at Camden, sir, to be sure. Begad I I would not give 
 a pinch of snuff, sir, to be insured a beef-steak to-mor- 
 row in Camden, and lord Cornwallis at my table." 
 
 Presently day appeared ; and, as the dawning light 
 increased, the frighted militia began to discover the 
 woods reddening over like crimson with the long ex- 
 tended lines of the British army, which soon, with 
 rattlins: drums and thundering: cannon, came rushinw 
 on to the charge. The militia, scarcely v/aiting to 
 give them a distant fire, broke and fled in the utmost 
 precipitation. Whereupon Gates clapped spurs to 
 his horse, and pushed hard after them, as he said, " to 
 bring the rascals back." But he took care never to 
 bring himself back, nor indeed to stop until he had 
 fairly reached Charlotte, eighty miles from the field 
 of battle. I remember it was common to talk in those 
 days, that he killed three horses in his flight. 
 
 Gates and the militia, composing two-thirds of the 
 army, having thus shamefully taken themselves off, 
 the brave old De Kalb, and his handful of continen- 
 tals were left alone to try the fortune of the day. And 
 never did men display a more determined valor! 
 For though outnumbered more than two to o)ie, they 
 sustained the shock of the enemy's whole force, for 
 upwards of an hour. With equal fury the ranks-sweep- 
 ing cannon and muskets were employed by both sides, 
 until the contending legions were nearly mixed. Then 
 quitting this slower mode of slaughter, with rage- 
 blackened faces and fiery eyeballs, they plunge for-- 
 ward on each other, to the swifter vengeance of the 
 bayonet. Far and wide the woods resound with the 
 clang of steel, while the red reeking weapons, like 
 stings of infernal serpents, are seen piercing the bo- 
 dies of the combatants. Some, on receiving the fatal 
 stab, let drop their useless arms, and with dying fin- 
 
106 '^n'- ^^^^^ <-'!•" 
 
 gers clasped ihc hostile steel that's cold in their bow- 
 els. Others, fiiintly crying out, " God I am slain !" 
 sank pale, quivering to the ground, while the vital 
 current gushed in hissing streams from their bursted 
 bosoms. Officers, as well as men, now mingle in the 
 uproaring strife, and snatching the weapons of the 
 slain, swell the horrid carnage. Glorying in his con- 
 tinentals, the brave De Kalb towers before them, like 
 a pillar of fire. His burning face is like a red star, 
 guiding their destructive course ; his voice, as the 
 horn that kindles the young pack in the chase of blood. 
 A British grenadier, of giant size, rushes on him with 
 a fixed bayonet. De Kalb parries the furious blow, 
 and plunges his sword in the Briton's breast ; then, 
 seizing his falling arms, he deals death around him 
 on the crowding foe. Loud rise the shouts of the 
 Americans ; but louder still tlie shouts of the more 
 numerous enemy. The battli burns anew along all 
 the fierce conflicting line. There, the distant ('orn- 
 wallis pushes on his fresh regiments, like red clouds, 
 bursting in thunder on the Americans ; and here, con- 
 densing his diminished legions, the brave De Kalb 
 still maintains the unequal contest. But, alas ! what 
 can valor do against equal valor, aided by such fear- 
 ful odds? The sons of freedom bleed on every side. 
 With grief their gallant leader marks the fall of his 
 heroes; soon himself to fall. For, as with a face all 
 inllamed in the fight, he bends forward animating his 
 men, he receives eleven wounds! Fainting with loss 
 of blood, he falls to the ground. Several brave men, 
 Britons and Americans, were killed over him, as they 
 furiously strove to destroy or to defend. In tlie midst 
 of the clashing bayonets, his only surviving aid. Mon- 
 sieur du Buyson, ran to him, and stretching his arms 
 over the fallen hero, called out, " Save the baron de 
 Kalb ! Save the baron de Kalb !" The British officers 
 nterposed, and prevented his immediate destruction. 
 It has been said that .ord Cornwallis was so struck 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 107 
 
 with the bravery of De Kalb, that he generously su- 
 perintended while his wounds were dressed, by his 
 own surgeons. It has also been said, that he appoint- 
 ed him to be buried with the honors of war, British 
 officers have been often known to do such noble 
 deeds, but that lord Cornwallis was capable of acting 
 so honorably, is doubtful. 
 
 De Kalb died as he had lived, the unconquered 
 friend of liberty. For, being kindly condoled with 
 by a British officer for his inisfortune, he replied, " I 
 thank you, sir, for your generous sympathy ; but I die 
 the death I always prayed for ; the death of a soldier 
 fighting for the rights of man." 
 
 His last moments were spent in dictating a .etier 
 to a friend concerning his continentals, of whom he 
 said, he " had no words that could sufficiently express 
 his love, and his admiration of their valor." He sur- 
 vived the action but a few hours, and was buried in 
 the plains of Camden, near which his last battle was 
 fought. 
 
 When the great Washington, many years after- 
 wards, came on a visit to Camden he eagerly in- 
 quired for the grave of De Kalb. It was shown to 
 him. After looking on it a while, with a countenance 
 marked with thought, he breathed a deep sigh, and 
 exclaimed — ■" So, there lies the brave De Kalb ; the 
 generous stranger, who came from a distant land, to 
 fight our battles, and to water, with his blood, the 
 tree of our liberty. Would to God he had lived to 
 share with us its fruits!" 
 
 Congress ordered him a monument. But the friend 
 of St. Tammany still sleeps " without his fame." I 
 have seen the place of his rest. It was the lowest 
 spot of the plain. No sculptured warrior mourned 
 at his low-laid head ; no cypress decked his heel. But 
 the tall corn stood in darkening ranks around him, 
 and seemed to shake their green leaves with joy over 
 his narrow dwellinof. 
 
lOS THE LIFE OF 
 
 But the roar of his battle is not yet quite passec 
 away, nor his ghastly wounds forgotten. The citizens 
 of Canulen have lately enclosed his grave, and placed 
 on it handsome marble, with an epitaph gratefully 
 descriptive of his virtues and services, that the 
 people of future days may, like Washington, heave 
 the sigh when they read of " the generous stranger 
 who came from a distant land to fight their battles, 
 and to water, with his blood, the tree of their liber- 
 ties." 
 
 Fai? Camden's plains his glorious dust inhume, 
 Wl ere annual Ceres shades her hero's tomb. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 jrfarion and the autlior very busy in dcstroyinpf the rice-makers' 
 boats on Santce — first got the news of tlie defeat of our army, 
 and death of the brave De Kalb — Marion addresses his fol- 
 lowers — their gallant reply. 
 
 Mariot:^ and myself, as yet ignorant of the fate 
 of the arrjiy, were on the waters of the Santee, very 
 busily executing our boat-burning orders. Not con- 
 tent with a'estroying the common scows and flats of 
 the ferries, we went on to sweep the river of every 
 skiff and canoe that we could lay hands on ; nay, had 
 the harmless wonkopkins been able to ferry an Eng- 
 lishman over the river, we should certainly have de- 
 clared war and hurled our firebrands among them. 
 
 The reader may be sure we gained no good will by 
 our zeal in this afl'air ; for it was a serious thing to the 
 planters: and their wrath waxed exceedingly hot 
 against us. Among that fleet of boats and flats that 
 pcrisiied by our firebrands or hatchets, there were two 
 , that belonged to my excellent old uncle, colonel E. 
 Horr). The old gentleman could hardly believe his 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. IQj 
 
 negroes, when they told him that we were destroying 
 his boats. However, to be satisfied of the matter, he 
 mounted his horse, and galloped down to the river to 
 see. We had completely done for his scow, and were 
 just giving the finishing; blows to his boat as he hovn 
 in sight ; whereupon, clapping whip and spur to his 
 liorse, he came on as hard as he could drive. Soon as 
 he was within hailing distance of an ordinary speak- 
 ing trumpet, he began to bawl — "Hold! hold! for 
 God's sake hold !" 
 
 Then dashing up, wnth cheeks red as fire coals, and 
 his mouth all in a lather, he roared out, " Why, what ? 
 (vhat ? what are you about here ?" 
 
 " We are only trying to kidnap the British, uncle," 
 said I. 
 
 " Kidnap the d — 1," he replied. 
 
 Then looking around, and seeing how completely 
 we had shivered his fine new boat and scow, he ripped 
 out again — " Well ! here is a pretty spot of work ! a 
 pretty spot of work ! A branding new scow and boat, 
 that cost me, only last spring, three hundred dollars! 
 every farthing of it! and here now all cut to smash ! 
 ruined ! not worth a chew of tobacco ! why ! did mor- 
 tal flesh ever see the like of this ? Breaking up our 
 boats ! why, how are we to harvest our rice .'"' 
 
 *' Uncle," said I, " you had better think less of har- 
 vesting your rice, and more of catching the musk- 
 rats," meaning the British. 
 
 Here, darting at me an eye of inexpressible aston- 
 ishment and rage, he exclaimed — "Why, certainly 
 the d — 1 is in the young man ! catch the British .'' 
 Why, have you not heard that the British are carrying 
 every thing before them ; have broke up our army ; 
 cut the regulars to pieces ; scattered the militia ; and 
 chased general Gates to Jericho, and to the d — 1 for 
 what I care .''" 
 
 " God forbid !" said Marion. 
 
 " Nay, that is past praying for," replied my uncle , 
 
 10 
 
110 THE LIFE OF 
 
 *' and if yoj had any interest in heaven, you ought 
 to have made it sooner. It is too late now." 
 
 " Great God !" returned Marion ; " and so oui 
 army is lost!" 
 
 " Yes," continued my uncle ; " lost, as sure as a 
 gun : and that is not all ; for De Kalb is killed ; Sump- 
 ter surprised and cut to pieces ; and Charleston illu- 
 minated every night for joy." 
 
 We could neither of us utter a word. 
 
 Presently my uncle, casting a searching eye around 
 on our men, about thirty in number, asked where our 
 troops were. 
 
 I told him those were all the troops we had. 
 
 I thought the good old gentleman would have gone 
 into fits. He rolled up his eyes to heaven ; smacked 
 his hands together, and bringing them by a sudden 
 jerk to his breast, with a shrill whistle exclaimed, 
 "Mad! — mad! — the young fellow is as mad as a 
 March hare — Well, I'll tell you what, nephew of mine, 
 you m-ay go sbcut on the river, chopping the planters' 
 boats at this rate, but I would not be in your coat, ray 
 lad, for your jacket, though it was stiff with gold." 
 
 I asked him what he meant by that? 
 
 " Why, I mean," replied he, " that if you are not, 
 all of you, knocked on the head in three hours, it will 
 be a wonder." 
 
 *■' Aye! what makes you think so, uncle," said I. 
 
 He answered : " You know my old waiting man, 
 Tom, don't you .''" 
 
 " To be sure I do," said I ; " I have known Tom 
 ever since I was a boy, and should be confounded sor- 
 ry to hear Tcmi prophesy any harm of me ; for I have 
 always taken him to be a very true man of his word." 
 
 " Yes, I'll warrant him," said my uncle ; " for 
 though Tom is a negro, and as black as old Nick, yet 
 I would as soon take Tom's word as that of any white 
 man in Carolina. Well, Tom, you know, has a wife 
 
 at Mr. 's, as rank a lory as we have hereabouts. 
 
 On coming home this morning, he shook his head and 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARlOxV. H] 
 
 said he was mighty 'fraid you and Col. Marion were 
 in a bad box ; for, that he got it from one of the olack 
 waiters in the house, who overheard the talk, that 
 there are three companies of tories now moulding 
 their bullets, and making ready to cut you off." 
 
 I looked at Marion and saw battle in his face. 
 
 My uncle was about to invite us to the house ; but 
 Marion interrupted him by saying, " This is no time 
 to think of visiting ;" and turning to his trumpeter, 
 ordered him to wind his horn, which was instantly 
 done. Then placing himself at our head, he dashed 
 off at a charging lope ; with equal speed we followed 
 and soon lost sight of my uncle Horry. 
 
 On reaching the woods, Marion ordered the troop 
 to halt and form ; when, with his usual modesty, he 
 thus addressed us : 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, you see our situation ! widely 
 different from what it once was. Yes, once we were 
 a happy people ! Liberty shone upon our land, bright 
 as the sun that gilds yon fields ; while we and our 
 fathers rejoiced in its lovely beams, gay as the birds 
 that enliven our forests. But, alas ! those golden days 
 are gone, and the cloud of war now hangs dark and 
 lowering over our heads. Our once peaceful land is 
 now filled with uproar and death. Foreign ruffians, 
 braving us up to our very firesides and altars, leave 
 us no alternative but slavery or death. Two gallant 
 armies have been marched to our assistance ; but, for 
 lack of competent commanders, both have been lost. 
 That under general Lincoln, after having been duped 
 and butchered at Savannah, was at last completely 
 trapped at Charleston. And that under general Gates, 
 after having been imprudently overmarched, is now 
 cut up at Camden. Thus are all our hopes from the 
 north entirely at an end ; and poor Carolina is left to 
 shift for herself. A sad shift indeed, when not one 
 in a thousand of her own children will rise to take her 
 part ; but, on the contrary, are madly taking part with 
 the enemy against her. And now, ray countrymen, I 
 
112 THi: LIFE OF 
 
 want to know your minds. As to my own, that has 
 
 long been made up. I consider my life as but « mo- 
 ment. But I also consider, that to fdl that moment 
 ■with duty^ is my all. To guard ray innocent country 
 against the evils of slavery, seems now my greatest 
 duty ; and, therefore, I am determined, that while I 
 live, she shall never be enslaved. She may coma to 
 that wretched state for what I know, but my eyes 
 shall never behold it. Never shall she clank her 
 chains in my ears, and pointing to the ignominious 
 badge, exclaim, " it was your cowardice that 
 
 BROUGHT ME TO THIS." 
 
 In answer to this, we unanimously assured him, that 
 ihose sentiments and resolutions were exactly our 
 own : and that we were steadfastly determined to die 
 with him, or conquer for our country. 
 
 "Well then, my brave friends," said he, " draw 
 your swords! Now for a circle, emblematical of our 
 eternal union! and pointing your blades to heaven, 
 the bright throne of Him who made us free, swear 
 you will never be slaves of Britain," 
 
 Which vvas all viost devoutly done. 
 
 Soon as this patriotic rite was performed, we all dis- 
 mounted , and taking our seats on the trunks of two 
 fallen pines that lay conveniently parallel, we made 
 our simple dinner of cold roots; and for our beverage 
 Tlranli of the lucid stream that softly murmured by. 
 
 The reader will please to keep in mind, that our 
 troops consisted of but thirty mounted militia ; chief- 
 ly gentlemeii volunteers, armed with muskets and 
 swords, but almost without powder and ball. How 
 Marion came to be at the head of this little party, it 
 may be amusing to the reader to hear. 
 
 Some short time before this date, 1779 — 80, when 
 the war began to rage in South Carolina, a British 
 captain by the name of ArdeisofTcame up to George- 
 town in an armed A'ossel, and fdletl'the country with 
 j)rinted proclamations from lord Cornwallis, calling 
 on the GOOD people of South Carolina to submit and 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARIO.V. 113 
 
 take royal protection.s ! ! Numbers of the ignorant 
 and pusillanimous sort closed with the offer. But the 
 nobler ones of the district, (Williamsburgh,) having 
 no notion of selling their liberties for a pig in a poke, 
 called a caucus of their own, from whom they select- 
 ed captain John James, and sent him down to master 
 captain Ardeisoff, to know what he would be at. 
 This captain James, by birth an Irishman, had ren- 
 dered himself so popular in the district, that he was 
 made a militia captain under the royal government. 
 But in '75, soon as he found that the ministry were 
 determined to tax the Americans, without allowing 
 them the common British right of representation^ he 
 bravely threw up his commission, declaring that he 
 vvould never serve a tyrant. Such was the gentle- 
 man chosen by the aforesaid liberty caucus, to go on 
 the embassy before mentioned. In the garb of a plain 
 planter, James presented himself before the haughty 
 captain Ardeisoff, and politely asked " on what terms 
 himself and friends must submit?" 
 
 " What terms, sir !" replied the angry Briton, 
 " what terms! why, no other terms, you maybe sure, 
 than unconditional submission." 
 
 " Well but sir," answered James, very calmly, 
 ^' are we not to be allowed to stay at home in peace 
 end quiet ?" 
 
 "In peace and quiet, indeed!" replied Ardeisoff, 
 with a sascastic grin; "a pretty story, truly! Stay 
 at home in peace and quiet, heh ? No, no, sir, you 
 have all rebelled against your king ; and if treated 
 as you deserve, would now be dancing like dogs at 
 the arms of the gallows. But his majesty is merciful, 
 sir ; and now that he has graciously pardoned you, 
 he expects you will immediately take up arms and 
 turn out in support of his cause." 
 
 " You are very candid, sir," said James ; " and now 
 I hope you will not be displeased with me for being 
 equally plain. Permit me, then, sir, to tell you that 
 
 10* 
 
1J4 THE LIFE OF 
 
 such terms will never go down with the gentlemen 
 whom I have the honor to represent." 
 
 " The gentlemen you have the honor to represent, 
 you d — n — d rebel !" 
 
 Vesuvius! /Etna! and Strumbolo ! what are your 
 fires and flames, compared with those that raged in 
 the bosom of James, when he heard himself called a 
 d — n — d rebel! 
 
 Instantly springing up, with eyes of lightning, he 
 snatched up his chair, and, regardless of consequences, 
 laid the audacious Ardeisof!' sprawling on the iloor ; 
 then Hying to his horse, he mounted and made his 
 escape. Learning from him, at his return, what they 
 had to understand by British protections, his gallant 
 constituents came at once to the resolution to arm 
 and fight till death, rather than hold life on such 
 ignominious terras. Immediately the whole force of 
 the district, about two hundred, able to bear arms, 
 were mustered and placed under captains William 
 JNi'CoItery, John M'Cawley, Henry Mowizon, and 
 our brave captain James, who was appointed major 
 and captain general of the whole. Feeling that dis- 
 trust in themselves which is common with raw troops, 
 and learning that the northern army was just entering 
 South Carolina, they despatched a messengor to gene- 
 ral Gates, 10 request that he would send them an officer 
 who had seen service. Governor Rutlcdgo, who hap- 
 pened at that time to be in camp, advised general Gates 
 by all means to send Marion. Marion was accord- 
 ingly sent ; but with orders, as we have seen, to destroy, 
 on his route, all the boats on the Santee river, lest lord 
 ('ornwallis should make his escape. At the time of 
 leaving general Gates, Marion had but ten ir^'n with 
 him ; but on reaching Santee, we were joined by 
 major John James, with about twenty gallant gentle- 
 men volunteers, making his whole force about thirty. 
 
 A slender force, to be sure, to oppose to the tremen- 
 dous powers which Marion had to encounter! But, "the 
 Lord is king, the victory is his !" and when h<i pleases 
 
Page lU. 
 
 Captain James, knocking down Captain Ardeiiotr 
 with a Chair. "" 
 
; GEN. FRA.NCIS MARION. 115 
 
 to give it to an oppressed people, he can make the 
 few and feeble overcome the many and mighty. 
 
 As the brave major James may perhaps be men- 
 tioned no more in this history, I must gratify tt.e 
 reader by informing him, that the noble major lost 
 nothing by his attachment to duty and the rights of 
 man. He lived to see Cornwallis, Tarleton, and 
 Rawdon, laid as low as the insolent Ardeisoff; and 
 after enjoying many years of sweet repose, under the" 
 pleasant shade of peace and plenty, he sunk gently 
 to rest. But though now fallen asleep, he still lives 
 in his country's gratitude, and in the virtues of his 
 son, who fills one of the highest places in the j udiciary 
 of his native state. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Carolina apparently lost — Marion almost alone keeps the field — ■ 
 begins to figure — surprises a strong- British party at Nelson'a 
 old field — scourges tiie tories at Black Mingo — again smites 
 them hip and thigh on Pedee. 
 
 The history of the American Revolution is a his- 
 tory of miracles, all bearing, like sunbeams, on this 
 heavenly ^a^ ; " America shall be free !" 
 
 Some of our chimney-corner philosophers can 
 hardly believe, when they read of Sampson making 
 such a smash among the Philistines wifh the jaw- 
 bone of an ass. Then how will they believe what I 
 am going to tell them of Marion.'' How will they be- 
 lieve that, at a time when the British had completely 
 overrun South Carolina ; their head quarters at 
 Charleston , a victorious array at Camden ; strong 
 garrisons at Georgetown and Jacksonborough, with 
 swarms of thievish and bloody minded tories, filling 
 iip all between ; and the spirits of the poor whigsso 
 completely cowed, that they were fairly knocked un- 
 
116 THE LIFE OF 
 
 der to the civil and military yoke of the British, 
 who, I ask again, will believe, that in this desperate 
 state of things, one little, swarthy, Frcnch-phizzed 
 Carolinian, with only thirty of his ragged country- 
 men, issuing out of the swamps, should have dared 
 to turn his horse's head towards this all conquering 
 foe? 
 
 Well, Marion was that man. He it was, who, with 
 his feeble force, dared to dash up at once to Nelson's 
 ferry, on the great war path between the British ar- 
 mies at Charleston and Camden. 
 
 " Now, my gallant friends," said he, at sight of the 
 road, and with a face burning for battle, " now look 
 sharp*! here are the British wagon tracks, with the 
 sand still falling in ! and here are the steps of their 
 troops passing and repassing. We shall not long be 
 idle here !" 
 
 And so it turned out. For scarcely had we reached 
 our hiding ])lace in the swamp, before in came our 
 scouts at half speed, stating that a Britsh gua'^d, with 
 a world of American prisoners, were on their march 
 for Charleston. 
 
 " How many prisoners do you suppose there were ?" 
 said Marion. 
 
 " Near two hundred," replied the scouts. 
 
 " And what do you imagine was the number of the 
 British guard ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, we counted about ninety." 
 
 " Ninety !" said Marion with a smile; "ninety! 
 Well, that will do. And now, gentlemen, if you will 
 only stand by me, I've a good hope that we thirty will 
 have those ninety by to-morrow's sunrise." 
 
 We told him to lead on, for that we were resolved 
 lo die by his side. 
 
 Soon as the dusky night came on, we went down lo . 
 .he ferry, and passing for a party of crood loyalistSy ■ 
 iKQ easily got set over. The enemy, with their prison- 
 ers, having just effected the passage of the river as 
 the sun weal down halted at the first tavern gene- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 117 
 
 rally called " the Blue House," where the oflicerr) or- 
 dered supper. In front of the building, was a large 
 arbor, wherein the topers were wont to sit, ana ipend 
 the jocund night away in songs and gleeful draughts 
 of apple brandy grog. In this arbor, flushed with 
 their late success, sat the British guard ; and tickler 
 after tickler swilling, roared it away to the tune of 
 " Britannia strike home :" till overcome with fatigue, 
 and the opiate juice, down they sunk, deliciously 
 beastified, to the ground. 
 
 Just as the cock had winded his last horn for day 
 we approached the house in perfect concealment, be- 
 hind a string of fence, within a few yards of it. But 
 in spite of all our address, we could not effect a com- 
 plete surprisal of them. Their sentinels took the 
 alarm, and firing their pieces, fled into the yard. Swift 
 as lightning we entered with them, and seizing their 
 muskets, which were all stacked near the gate, we 
 made prisoners of the whole party, wdthout having 
 been obliged to kill more than three of them. 
 
 Had Washington and his whole army been upon 
 the survivors, they could hardly have roared out 
 louder for quarter. After securing their arms, Ma- 
 rion called for their captain ; but he was not to be 
 found, high nor low, among the living or dead. 
 However, after a hot search, he w^as found up the 
 chimney! He begged very hard that we would not 
 let his men know where he had concealed himself. 
 Nothing could equal the mortification of the British, 
 when they came to see what a handful of militia-men 
 had taken them, and recovered all their prisoners. 
 
 Marion was at first in high hopes, that the Ameri- 
 can regulars whom he had so gallantly rescued, would, 
 to a man, have joined his arras, and fought hard to 
 avenge their late defeat. But equally to /as surprise 
 and their own disgrace, not one of them could be pre- 
 vailed on to shoulder a musket ! " Where is the use," 
 said they, " of fighting now, when all is lost ?" 
 
 This "iv^as *he geneial impression. And indeed 
 
118 TIJE LIFE OF 
 
 except these unconquerable spirits, Marion aim 
 Siimpter, with a few others of the same heroic stamp, 
 who kept the field, Carolina was no better than a 
 British province. 
 
 In our late attack on the enemy, we had but four 
 rounds of powder and ball ; and not a single sword 
 that deserved the name. But ?»Iarion soon remedied 
 that defect. He bought up all the old saw blades 
 from the mills, and gave them to the smiths, who 
 presently manufactured for us a parcel of substantial 
 broadswords, sufficient, as I have often seen, to kill 
 a man at a single blow. 
 
 From our prisoners in the late action, we got com- 
 pletely armed ; a couple of English muskets, with 
 bayonets and cartouch-boxes, to each of us, with 
 which we retreated into Britton's Neck. 
 
 We had not been there above twenty-four hours 
 before news was brought us by a trusty friend^ 
 that the tories, on Pedee, were mustering, in force, 
 under a captain Barfield. This, as we learnt after- 
 wards, was one of the companies that ray uncle's old 
 coachmen had been so troubled about. We were 
 quickly on horseback; and after a brisk ride of forty 
 miles, came upon their encampment, at three o'clock 
 in the morning. Their surprise was so complete, that 
 they did not fire a single shot ! Of forty-nine men, 
 who composed their company, we killed and took 
 about thirty. The arms, ammunition, and horses of 
 the whole party, fell into our hands, with which we 
 returned to Britton's Neck, without the loss of a 
 man. 
 
 The rumor of these two exploits soon reached the 
 British and their friends the tories, who presently 
 despatched three stout companies to attack us. Two 
 of the parties were British ; one of them commanded 
 by major Weymies, of house-burning memory. The 
 third party were altogether tories. We iled before 
 them towards North Carolina. Supposing they had 
 entirely scouted us, they gave over the chase, and re- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 119 
 
 tieated for their respective station;' ; the British to 
 Georsfetown, and the tories to Black Minso Learn- 
 inff this, from the swift mounted scouts whom he al- 
 ways kept close hanging upon their march, Marion 
 ordered us to face about, and dog them to their en- 
 campment, which we attacked with great fury. Our 
 fire commenced on them at but a short distance, and 
 with great effect ; but outnumbering us, at least two 
 to one, they stood their ground and fought desper- 
 ately. But losing their commander, and being hard 
 pressed, they at length gave way, and fled in the ut- 
 most precipitation, leaving upwards of twu-thirds of 
 their number, killed and wounded, on the ground. — 
 The surprise and destruction of the tories would 
 have been complete, had it not been for the alarm 
 given by our horses' feet in passing Black Mingo 
 bridge, near which they were encamped. Marion 
 never afterwards suffered us to cross a bridge in the 
 night, until we had first spread our blankets on it, to 
 prevent noise. 
 
 This third exploit of Marion rendered his name 
 very dear to the poor whigs, but utterly abominable 
 to the enemy, particularly the tories, who were so 
 terrified at this last handling, that, on iheir retreat, 
 they would not halt a moment at Georgetown, 
 though twenty miles from the field of battle ; but 
 continued their flight, not thinking themselves safe, 
 until they had got Santee river between him and 
 them. 
 
 These three spirited charges, having cost us a great 
 deal of rapid marching and fatigue, Marion said he 
 would give us " a little rest^ So he led us down into 
 Waccamaw, where he knew^ we had some excellent 
 friends ; among whom were the Hugers and Trapiers, 
 and Alstons; fine fellows! rich as Jews, and hearty 
 as we could wish : indeed the wealthy captain, now 
 colonel William Alston, was one of Marion's aids. 
 
 These great people all received us as though we 
 had been their brothers, threw open the gates of their 
 
120 THE LIFE OF 
 
 elegant ya.'Js for our cavalry, hurried us up tiicit 
 princely steps ; and, notwitlistanding our dirt and 
 rags, ushered us into their grand saloons and dining 
 rooms, where the famous mahogany sideboards were 
 quickly covered with pitchers of old amber colored 
 brandy, and sugar dishes o? double re/i7ied , with honey, 
 for drams and juleps. Our horses were up to the 
 eyes in corn and sweet-scented fodder ; while, as to 
 ourselves, nothing that air, land, or water could fur- 
 nish, was good enough for us. Fish, flesh, and fowl, 
 all of the fattest and finest^ and sweetly graced with 
 the smiles of the great ladies, were spread before us, 
 as though we had been kings: while Congress and 
 Washington went round in sparkling bumpers, from 
 old demijohns that had not left the garret for many a 
 year. 
 
 This was feasting indeed ! It was a feasting of the 
 soul as well as of the sense. To have drawn the 
 sword for liberty and dear country's sake, was, of 
 itself, no mean reward to honest republicans ; but, 
 beside that, to be so honored and caressed, by the 
 great ones of the land, was like throwing the zone of 
 Venus over the waist of Minerva, or like crowning 
 profit with pleasure, and duty with delight. 
 
 In consequence of the three fortunate blows which 
 he had lately struck, Marion, as before observed, was 
 getting the enviable honor to be looked up to as the 
 rallying point of the poor whigs ; insomuch, that al- 
 though afraid as mice to stir themselves, yet, if they 
 found out that the tories and British were any where 
 forming encampments about the country, they would 
 mount their boys and push them off to Marion to let 
 him know. Here I must give the reader an instance 
 on the spot. 
 
 We had just got ourselves well braced up again, by 
 rest and high feeding, among the noble whigs of 
 Waccamaw, when a likely young felb. w at half speed 
 drove up one morning to the house, and asked for 
 general Marion. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ]2l 
 
 Marion went to the door, 
 
 " Well, my son, what do you want with me ?" 
 
 " Why, sir general," replied the youth, " daddy 
 sent me down to let you know, as how there is to be 
 a mighty gathering of the tories, in our parts, to mor- 
 row night." 
 
 " Aye indeed ! and pray whereabouts, my son, may 
 your parts be .'''' 
 
 " Heigh, sir general ! don't you know where our 
 parts is ? I thought every body knowed where daddy 
 lives." 
 
 " No, my son, I don't ; but, I've a notion he lives 
 somewhere on Pedee ; perhaps a good way up." 
 
 " Yes, by jing, does he live a good way up ! a mat- 
 ter of seventy miles ; clean away up there, up on Little 
 Pedee." 
 
 " Very well, my son, I thank your daddy, and you 
 too, for letting me know it. And, I believe, I must 
 try to meet the tories there." 
 
 " la, sir general, try to meet 'em indeed ! yes, to 
 be sure ! dear me, sirs, hearts alive, that you must, sir 
 general ! for daddy says, as how, he is quite sartin, if 
 you'll be there to morrow night, you may make a pro- 
 per smash among the tories ; for they'll be there thick 
 and threefold. They have heard, so they say, oi your 
 doings, and are going to hold this great meeting, on 
 purpose to come all the way down here after ^/om." 
 
 " After me .?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed are they, sir general! and you had 
 better keep a sharp look out, I tell you now ; for they 
 have just been down to the British, there at George- 
 town, and brought up a matter of two wagon loads of 
 guns ; great big English muskets ! I can turn my 
 thumb in them easy enough! And, besides them 
 j)Iaguy guns, they have got a tarnal nation sight of 
 jtistols ! and bagonets! and swords! and saddles! 
 und bridles! and the dear knows what else besides' 
 "^o they are in a mighty good fix, you may depend, 
 sir general." 
 
X22 '^'"^ l-ifE OF 
 
 " Well, perhaps you and I may have some of their 
 fine things to-morrow night. What say you to it, rny 
 son ?" 
 
 " By jing, I should like it proper well ! But, to be 
 sure, now, sir general/'you look like a mighty small 
 man to fight thera great big tories there, 'on Pedee. 
 But daddy says as how the heart is all : and he says, 
 too, that though you are but a lilth man, you have a 
 monstrous great heart." 
 
 Marion smiled, and went out am.ong his men, to 
 whom he related the Ijuy's errand ; and desired them 
 to question him, so that ihere might be no trick in the 
 matter. But every scruple of that sort was quickly 
 removed ; for several of our parly were well acquaint- 
 ed with the lad's father, and knew him to be an ex- 
 cellent whig. 
 
 Having put our firearms in prime order for an at- 
 tack, we mounted ; and giving our friends three 
 cheers, dashed ofl', just as the broad-faced moon 
 arose ; and by daybreak next morning, had gained a 
 very convenient swamp, within ten miles of the grand 
 tory rendezvous. To avoid giving alarm, we struck 
 into the swamp, and there, man and horse, lay snug 
 all day. About eleven o'clock, Marion sent out a 
 couple of nimble-footed young men, to conceal them- 
 selves near the main road, and take good heed to 
 what was going on. In the evening they returned, 
 and brought word, that the road had been constantly 
 alive with horsemen, tories they supposed, armed 
 with new guns, and all moving on very gaily towards 
 the place the lad had told us of. Soon as it was 
 dark, we mounted, and took the track at a sweeping 
 gallop, which, by early supper time, brought us in 
 sight of their fires. Then leaving our horses under 
 a small guard, we advanced quite near thera, in the 
 dark without being discovered ; for so little thought 
 had they of Marion, that they had not placed a single 
 sentinel , but were, all hands, gathered about the 
 fire: sonie cooking, some fid\I'ing and dancing, and 
 
GEN fKAMLJS MARION. 123 
 
 some playing cards, as we could hear them every 
 now and then bawling out. " Huzza, at him agaiuy 
 damme ! aye, thaVs the dandy ! My trick, begad .'" 
 
 Poor wretches, little did they think how near the 
 fates were grinning around them. 
 
 Observing that they had three large fires, Marion 
 divided our little party of sixty men into three com- 
 panies, each opposite to a fire, then bidding us to take 
 aim, with his pistol he gave the signal for a general 
 aischarge. In a moment the woods were all in a blaze, 
 as by a Hash of lightning, accompanied by a tremen- 
 dous clap of thunder. Down tumbled the dead; off 
 bolted the living; loud screamed the wounded ; while 
 far and wide, all over the woods, nothing was to be 
 heard but the running of tories, and the snorting of 
 wild bounding horses, snapping the saplings. Such a 
 tragi-comedy was hardly ever seen. On running up 
 to their fires, we found we had killed twenty-three, 
 and badly wounded as many more ; thirteen we made 
 prisoners ; poor fellows who had not been grazed by 
 a bullet, but were so frightened that they could not 
 budge a peg. We got eighty-four stand of arms, chiefly 
 English muskets and bayonets, one hundred horses, 
 with new saddles and bridles, all English too, with a 
 good deal of ammunition and baggage. The conster- 
 nation of the tories was so great that they never 
 dreamt of carrying off any thing. Even their fiddles 
 and fiddle bows, and playing cards, were all left 
 strewed around their fires. One of the gamblers, (it 
 is a serious truth) though shot dead, still held the 
 cards hard griped in his hands. Led by curiosity to 
 inspect this strange sight, a dead gambler, we found 
 that the cards which he held were ace, deuce, and 
 jack. Clubs were trumps. Holding high, low, jack, 
 and the game, in his own hand, he seemed to be in a 
 fair way to do well ; but Marioa came down upon 
 him wilh a trump that spoiled his sport, and non- 
 Buited him for ever. 
 
 But the most comfortable si^ht of all, was the fin? 
 
»24 I'lIK I.IFK OK 
 
 supper which thf torirs had oooket.1 ! three fat roasted 
 piiis and six turkeys, with piles o( nice journey cakes, 
 'lis true, the dtail bodies \\\y very thick round the 
 fires : but having rode seventy miles, and eating no- 
 thins]j since the night before, we were too keen set to 
 think ot" standing on triiles ; so fell upon the poor 
 tories' provisions, and made the heartiest supper in 
 the world. And, to crown all, we found among the 
 spoil, upwards of half a barrel o[ fine old peach 
 brandy. 
 
 " Ah, this brandy !" said Marion, " was the worst 
 foe these poor rogues ever had. But I'll take care it 
 shall be no toe to us." So, atU^r onlering half a pint 
 to each man, he had the balance put under guard. 
 And I must observe, by way of justice to my honor- 
 ed friend, that success never seenunl to elate him ; 
 nor did ever he lose sight of safety in the blaze of 
 victory. For instantly at\er the defeat, our guns were 
 all loaded and our sentinels set, as if an enemy lia.i 
 been in force in the neisihborhood. 
 
 CHAPTKR W. 
 
 The wiujjs in liisrh spiritson accoinU of oursiicooss; — an cxprcsa 
 th»in (nnonuu RutUxlffe — promotion!* — British and tories in 
 great wratii — sketch ot tlieir tn^atmont of tlio patriots. 
 
 Thk .lews of this t'ourth overthrow of the enemy, 
 was soon spread tar and wide among both our tViemls 
 and foes ; producing every where the liveliest emo- 
 tions of joy or sorrow, according as the hearers hap- 
 nened to be well or ill atlected towards us. The im- 
 piession which it made on our honored executive, 
 was sweeter to our thoughts than honey or the honey* 
 comb. For on the ilt\h ilay atter our last llaggeliation 
 of the tories, in came an express from governor Kut- 
 <dge, with a commission of brigadier general for Ma- 
 
GES. FRANCIS MARION". 223 
 
 rion, and a full colonel's commission for me. Having 
 always lookcfJ up to my country as to a beloved mo- 
 ther, whose liberty and prosperity were inseparably 
 connected with my own, it is no wonder that 1 should 
 have been so delighted at hearing her say, by her fa- 
 vorite son, governoj Rutledge, that, repodng especial 
 trust in ray coura<re, conduct, and attention to her in 
 tercsts, she had apprnnted me a colonel in her armies, 
 &c, &,c. 
 
 Scarcely had I perused my commission, before Ma- 
 rion reached me Ids ; and with a smile, desired me to 
 read it. Soon as I came to his new title, " brigadier 
 general," I snatched his hand and exclaimed, "Huzza! 
 God save my friend ! rny noble Gknkral Marion ! 
 general ! general ! Aye that will do ! that will do ! that 
 sounds somewhat in unison with your deserts," 
 
 " Well, but what do you think of the style,^^ replied 
 he, " and of the prerogative — is it not prodigiously in 
 the pompous V^ 
 
 " JVot at all,'' said I. 
 
 " No," continued he ; " why now to my notion, it is 
 very much in the turgid, in the Asiatic. It gives me 
 doininions from river to river, and from the mountains 
 to the great sea, like Tainerlane or Ghenghis Khan ; 
 or like George III. ' by the grace of God, Icing of 
 Great Britain, France,' &c. &c. whereas, poor 
 George dares not set a foot there, even to pick up a 
 periwinkle !" 
 
 " Well, but general," said I, " as the English gave 
 France to George because they wish him to have it, 
 so I suppose the good governor gives you this vast 
 district for the same reason." 
 
 " Perhaps so,'' replied Marion. 
 
 The truth is, governor Uutledge was a most ardent 
 ^ver of his country ; and, therefore, almost adored 
 juch an unconquerable patriot as Marion. 
 
 Hence, when he found, that notwithstanding the 
 aiiny fol'.ies and failures of northern generals and 
 trmies ; notwithstanding the victories, and proclama* 
 
 li* 
 
IQg THE LIFE OF 
 
 lions, and threats of Cornwallis and Tar!, tun, Mai ion 
 still stood his ground, and fought and conquered for 
 Carolina; his whole soul was so filled wih love ot 
 him, ihat I verily believe he would have given him 
 " all the kingdoms of the earth and the glory thrreof," 
 had they been in his gift. Indeed what he did give 
 him was sketched out with a prodigiously bold hand. 
 He gave him all that territory, comprehended uiihin 
 a line drawn from Charleston along the sea, to George- 
 town ; thence westerly to Camden ; and thence to 
 Charleston again ; making a domain of extent, po- 
 pulation, and u-ealth, immense; but over which the 
 excellent governor had no more power to grant mili- 
 tary jurisdiction, than to give kingdoms in the moon ; 
 for' the whole of it was in the hands of the British, 
 and their friends the tories ; so that the governor had 
 not a foot to give Marion ; nor did Marion hold a 
 foot of it but by his own vigilance and valour; which 
 were so extraordinary, that his enemies, wiih all iheir 
 men, money, and malice, could never drive him out 
 of it. 
 
 But while governor Rulledge, with all the good 
 whigs of the state, were thus heaitily rejoicing wiih 
 Marion for his victories, the British and tories were 
 as madly gnashing their teeth upon him for the same. 
 To be struck four such severe blows, in so short a 
 time, and all rising one over another in such cursed 
 climax of bad to worse ; to be losing, in this manner, 
 their dear allies, with all their subsidies of arms-, am- 
 munition, and money ; to have their best friends thus 
 cooled ; their worst enemies thus heated ; and rank 
 rebellion again breaking up, out of a soil where they 
 had promised themselves nothing but the richest fruits 
 of passive obedience : and all this by a little, ugly 
 spawn of a Frenchman ! It was too much ! they could 
 not stand it. Revenge they must and would have ; 
 that was certain : and since, with all their eflorts, they 
 could not get at Marion, the hated trunk and root of 
 all, they were determined to burn and sweat his 
 
GEN. FR\NCIS MARIOX. 127 
 
 branches, the poor whigs, /. e. to carry the curses ol 
 fire and sword through all their families and habita- 
 tions. 
 
 Now, had this savage spirit appeared among a few 
 poor British cwiets, or plney wood tories, it would not 
 have been so lamentable. Their ignorance of iliose 
 divine tiuths, which exalt the soul above such hellisii 
 passions, would have furnished some plea for them. 
 But, that a British general, and that general a noble- 
 man! a lord! with an archbishop for his brother, and 
 hot-pressed bibles, and morocco prayer books, and all 
 such excellent helps, to teach him that " God is love," 
 and " mercy his delight ;" that such a one, I say, 
 should have originated the infernal warfare., of plun- 
 dering, burning, and hanging the American patriots, 
 is most HORRIBLE. And yet, if possible, more true 
 than horrible. Yes, sure as the day of doom, when 
 that fearful day shall come, and lord Cornwallis, sfript 
 of his " brief authority," shall stand, a tremblir:g ghost 
 before that equal bar : then shall the evil spirit, t'rom 
 the black budget of his crimes, snatch the foUowiiiff 
 bloody order, and grinning an insulting smile, flash it 
 before his lordship's terrified optics. 
 
 August 18, 1780, 
 To lieutenant colonel Cri/ger, commandatit at the 
 British garrison at JYineiy-six. 
 Sir, 
 
 I have given orders that all the inhabitants of this 
 province, who had submitted, and who have taken a 
 part in this revolt, shall be punished with the greatest 
 rigour; that they shall ha imprisoned, and their u'//o/g 
 property taken from them or destroyed. I have like- 
 wise directed, that compensation should be made out 
 of their effects, to persons who have been plundered 
 and oppressed by them. I have ordered, in the most 
 positive manner, that every militia-raan who had 
 borne arms with us, and had afterwards joined the 
 Rneiuy, should be immediately hanged. I have now 
 
l28 THE LIFE OF 
 
 sir, onl}' {o desire that you will take the most vigor- 
 cur measures to extinguish the rebellion in the dis- 
 trict which you command, and that you will ohey^ in 
 the strictest mamier^ the directions I have given in 
 this letter, relative to the treatment of this country. 
 
 This order of lord Cornwallis proved to South 
 Carolina like the opening of Pandora's box. Instantly 
 chere broke forth a torrent of cruelties and crimes 
 never before heard of in our simple forests. Lord 
 Rawdon acted, as we shall see, a shameful part in 
 these bloody tragedies, and so did colonel Tarleton. 
 But the officer who figured most in executing the de- 
 testable orders of Cornwallis, was a major Weymics. 
 This man was, by birth, a Scotsman ; but, in princi- 
 ple and practice, a Mohawk. So totally destitute was 
 he of that amiable sympathy which belongs to his 
 nation, that, in sailing up Winyaw bay, and Wacca- 
 maw and Pedee rivers, he landed, and pillaged, and 
 burnt every house he durst approach ! Such w^as the 
 style of his entry upon our afllicted state, and such the 
 spirit of his doings throughout ; for wherever he went, 
 an unsparing destruction awaited upon his footsteps. 
 
 Unhappily, our country had but too many pupils 
 that fitted exactly such a preceptor. The lazy, dram- 
 drinking, plunder-loving tories, all gloried in major 
 Weymies : and were ever ready, at the winding of 
 his horn, to rush forth with him, like hungry blood- 
 hounds, on his predatory excursions. The dogs of 
 hell were all now completely uncoupled, and every 
 devilish passion in man had its proper game to fly at. 
 Here was a fine time for malice to feed lier ancient 
 grudges ; for avarice to cram her maw with plunder ; 
 and revenge to pay off her old scores, with bloody 
 interest. 
 
 A thievish tory, who had been publicly wliii)[)ed 
 by a whig magistrate, or had long coveted his silvei 
 tankard, or his handsome rifle, or his elegant horse, 
 had but to jioint out his house to major Weymies, 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 129 
 
 and say, " There lives a d — d rebel." The amiable 
 major and his myrmidons, would surround the noble 
 building in a trice ; and after gutting it of all its rich 
 furniture, would reduce it to ashes. It was in vain 
 that the poor delicate mother and her children, on 
 bended knees, with wringing hands and tear-swim 
 ming eyes implored him to pity, and not to burn their 
 house over their heads. Such eloquence, which has 
 often moved the breasts of savages, was all lost on 
 major Weymies and his banditti. They no more re- 
 garded the sacred cries of angel-watched children 
 than the Indians do the cries of the young beavers, 
 whose houses they are breaking up. 
 
 But, oh, joy eternal! "the Lord is king." His 
 law is love, and they who sin against this law, soon or 
 late, shall fmd that they have sinned against their own 
 souls. 
 
 A planter, in his fields, accidentally turning towards 
 his house, suddenly discovers a vast column of smoke 
 bursting forth, and ascending in black curling volumes 
 to heaven. " Oh my God ! my house !" he exclaims, 
 " my poor wife and children !" Then, half bereft of 
 his senses, he sets off and runs towards his house. — 
 Still, as he cuts the air, he groans out, " Oh, my poor 
 wife and children!" Presently he hears their cries: 
 he sees them at a distance with outstretched arras 
 flying towards him. Oh, pa! pa! pa! his children 
 tremblingly exclaim ; while his wife, all pale and out 
 of breath, falls on his bosom, and, feebly crying out, 
 "The British! oh the British,^^ sinks into a swooij. 
 Who can tell the feelings of the father and the huj- 
 band ! His wife convulsed in his arras ! his litde beg- 
 gared children screaming around hiin! and his pio- 
 perty all sinking to ruin, by merciless enemies! Pre- 
 sently his wife, after a strong fit, with a deep sigh, 
 comes to herself ; he wipes her tears; he embraces 
 and hushes his children. By and bye, supposing the 
 British to be gone, arm in arm the mournful group 
 return. But ah, shocking sight ! their once stately 
 
13U THE LIFK UF 
 
 mansiGii which shone so beauteous on the phim, the 
 pride and pleasure of their eyes, is now the prey of 
 devouring llames. Their slaves have all disappeared ; 
 their stock, part is taken away, part lies bleeding in 
 the yard, stabbed by bayonets ; their elegant furniture, 
 tables, glasses, clocks, beds, all is swallowed up. An 
 army of passing demons could have done no worse. 
 But while with tearful eye they are looking round on 
 the wide-spread ruin, undermined by the fire, down 
 comes the tall building with thundering crash to the 
 ground. The frightened mourners start aghast from 
 the hideous squelch, and weep afresh to see all the 
 hopes and glories of their state thus suddenly ended 
 in smoke and ashes. 
 
 It was in this way exactly that the British treated 
 my brother, major Hugh Horry, as brave a soldier as 
 ever fought in America. They laid in ashes all his 
 dwelling houses, his barns of clean rice, and even his 
 rice stacks! Destroyed his cattle ; carried off eighty 
 negroes, which were all he had, not leaving him 
 one to bake him a cake. Thus, in one hour, as the 
 wild Arabs served Job, did the British serve my 
 poor brother, breaking him up root and branch ; and, 
 from a state of affluence, reduced him to a dunghill. 
 
 These savage examples, first set by the British, and 
 followed by the tories, soon produced the effect which 
 Marion had all along predicted. They filled the hearts 
 of the sufl'erers with the deadliest hate of the British ; 
 and brought them, in crowds, to join his stantlard, 
 with muskets in their hands, and vows of revenge 
 eternal in their mouths. 
 
 Hence it was that nothing so pleased Marion as to 
 rtear of British cruelty to his countrymen. 
 
 " 'Tis a Jiarsh medicine,'''' he used to say, " but it is 
 necessary ; for there is nothing else that will work 
 them. And unless they are well worked and scoured 
 of their mother milk, or beastling partiality to the 
 English, they are lost. Our country is like a man who 
 has swallowed a mortal poison. Give him an anodyne 
 
GExN. FRANCIS MARION. 131 
 
 lo keejj him easy, and he's a dead man. But if you 
 can only knock him about, and so put the poison ir 
 motion as to made him deadly sick at the stomach, and 
 heave like a dog with a bone in his throat, he is safe. 
 Cornvvallis has all this time been lulling them by his 
 proclamations y and protections^ and lies. But, thank 
 God, that time is pretty well over now ; for these un- 
 feeling monsters, these children of the devil, have let 
 out the cloven foot., and the thing is now beginning to 
 work as I expected. Our long deluded people are 
 opening their eyes, and beginning to see and smell 
 the blood and burnings of that Tophet, that political 
 hell of slavery and ruin, to which the British army is 
 now endeavoring, by murder and rapine, to reduce 
 them." 
 
 This was truly the case : for, every day the whigs 
 were coming into Marion's camp. Those who were 
 too old to fight themselves, would call upon their 
 sturdy boys to " turn out and join general Marion.'''* 
 It was diverting to see how they would come 
 staving upon their tackles ; belted round with their 
 powderhorns and shotbags, with rifles in hand, and 
 their humble homespun streaming in the air. The 
 finely curling smile brightened in the face of Ma- 
 rion ; and his eye beamed that laughing joy, with 
 which a father meets his thoughtless boy, returning 
 dirty and beaten by blackguards, from whose dan- 
 gerous company he had sought in vain a thousand 
 times to wean him. 
 
 " Well, my son !" Marion would say, " and what 
 good news do you bring us?" 
 
 " Why, why, why, sir general," replies the youth, 
 half cocked with rage, and stammering for words, 
 ' as I was overlooking my father's negroes in the rice 
 grounds, the British and tories came and took them 
 and carried them all away; and I only am left alone 
 to tell you." 
 
 Presently another comes and says : " As I was 
 driving the horses and cattle down to the pasture, 
 
132 THE LIFE OF 
 
 the British and tcries fell upon them, and carried 
 them all away ; and I alone am left to tell you." 
 
 While he was yet speaking, another comes and 
 says : " The British and tories came with fire and 
 burnt our houses and goods, and have driven my 
 mother and the children into the woods; and I only 
 am left alon(' to tell you." 
 
 Next comes another, who says: "My father and 
 myself were ploughing together in the field, and the 
 British and tories came upon us and shot my father ! 
 and I only am left alone to tell you." 
 
 Another comes and tells, that " lord Rawdon is 
 taking the whig prisoners every week, out of the jail 
 in Camden, and hanging them up by half dozens, 
 near the windows, like dead crows in a corn-field, to 
 frighten the rest, and make good tories of them." 
 
 Another states, that " colonel Charles Pinckney, 
 prisoner in Charleston, for striking a couple of inso- 
 lent negroes, was cursed by the British officers as a 
 d — d rebel, and driven with kicks and blows into the 
 house, for daring to strike his Britannic Majesty^s 
 subjects V 
 
 Here Marion snapped his fingers for joy, and shout- 
 ed, ^'^ Huzza! thaVs right! that^s nght ! my noble 
 Britons, lay on ! lay on the spaniels stoutly ! they want 
 British protections, do they ? the rogues ! show 
 them no quarter, but give it to them handsomely ! 
 break their backs like dogs! cut them over the face 
 and eyes like cats ! bang them like asses! thank ye ! 
 thank ye, Cornwallis and Rawdon ! most noble lords, 
 I thank ye! you have at last brought the wry face 
 upon my countrymen, the cold sweat, the sardonic 
 grin. Thank G^dl the potion begins to work! 
 huzza, ray sons! heave! heave! aye, there comes the 
 bile ; the atrobiliary ; die black vomiting which por- 
 tends death to the enemy. Now Britons, look to yo-.r 
 .ships, for Carolina will soon be too hot to hold you.'' 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Colon el Tynes, the famous tory partisan, attempts to eur arise 
 Marion — is himself surprised and taken, with nearly all liis 
 party — the author, with thirty choice cavaliers, sent by Ma- 
 rion to reconnoitre — defeat of a British party of horse — 
 anecdote of Scotch Macdonald — surprise and slaugiitcr of the 
 tories — captain Lewis is killed — anecdote of an extraordi- 
 nary lad. 
 
 Soon after this last victory on Pedee, Marion 
 moved down into the neighborhood of Black river ; 
 where he instantly got notice, that a large body of 
 tories under the celebrated Col. Tynes, were making 
 great preparations to attack him. This Tynes was a 
 man of valor and address worthy of a better cause. 
 In several contests with the whigs, he had handled 
 them very roughly ; and was become such a terror to 
 the friends of liberty in that part of the world, that 
 they were greatly alarmed on finding that he was 
 musterinor all his forces to attack Marion. We were 
 scarcely encamped, before three expresses arrived 
 from the whig settlements on Black river, stating 
 colonel Tynes' movements ; and advising to keep a 
 good look out, for that he was a very artful and dan- 
 gerous fellow. According to their conjectures, colonel 
 Tynes must have had no less than one hundred and 
 fifty men : our number did not quite reach ninety, 
 but they were all volunteers, and exceedingly chafed 
 and desperate in their minds, by the barbarous usage 
 of the British and tories. Having, by this day's 
 march of fifty miles, got within twenty miles of the 
 enemy, who supposed that we were still on Pedee. 
 .Marion instantly resolved to attack him that night. 
 No sooner was this made known to the troops, then 
 the fatigues of the day appeared to be entirely for- 
 gotten. x\ll hands fell to work, currying, rubbing and 
 feeding their horses, like young men preparing for a 
 
 12 
 
134 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ball or baibacue. Then after a hearty supper and a 
 few hours' sleep, we all sprung upon our chargers 
 again, and dashed off about one o'oloek, to try our 
 fortune with colonel Tynes. Just before day, we cauxa 
 upon the enemy, whom we found buried in sleep 
 The roar of our guns first broke their slumbers ; and 
 by the time the frightened wretches had got upon their 
 legs, man and horse, we vvere among them hewing 
 down. Three and thirty fell under our swords; for- 
 ty-six were taken ; the rest, about sixty, made their 
 escape. Colonel Tynes himself, with upwards of one 
 hundred horses, and all the baggage, fell into our 
 hands. 
 
 A day or two after this victory, the general order- 
 ed me to take captain Baxter, lieutenant Postell, and 
 sergeant Macdonald, with thirty privates, and see if I 
 could not gain some advantage over the enemy near 
 the lines of Georgetown. About midnight we cross- 
 ed Black river ; and, pushing on in great silence 
 through the dark woods, arrived at dawn of day near 
 the enemy's sentries, where we lay in ambush close 
 on the road. Just after the usual hour of breakfast, 
 a chair, with a couple of young ladies, 'squired by a 
 brace of British officers elegantly mounted, came 
 alotig at a sweeping rate from Georgetown. 
 
 They had not passed us more than fifty steps, before 
 they stopped short. I was confoundedly afraid at first 
 that they had, somehow or other, smelt a rat ; but it 
 turned out, as we afterwards learned, that this was 
 only a little courting party, going into the country lo 
 dine. On getting into the gloomy woods, the girls 
 were taken with a quaking fit for their sweethearts, 
 lest that vile " swarai) fox," as they called Marion, 
 should come across Tnem. Whereupon the halt afore- 
 said was ordered, and a consultation held ; theresult 
 of which was, that the girls should go on to their 
 friend's house, and the ofiiccrs back to town for a par- 
 ty of dragoons. Accordingly the chair preceded, and 
 the officers gallopc J back by us, undisturbed •. for we 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 135 
 
 did not think it wcrth while to risk an alarm for the 
 sake of a couple of officers. Presently beginning to 
 feel very hungry, for we had travelled all night and 
 eaten nothing, we agreed to retire \o the house of a 
 neighboring planter, who was known to be a good 
 whig. As we entered the yard, what should we see 
 but the identical chair that had passed us a little be- 
 fore ! — and on stepping into the house behold the 
 very same young ladies ! They w'ere richly dressed, 
 and well formed, and would no doubt have appeared 
 handsome, but for the hostile passions which glared 
 from their eyes, and gave their whole physiognomy 
 a fury-like expression. They asked us, with great 
 pertness, " what business we had there.'' The gentle- 
 man of the house," continued they, " is not at home, 
 and there are no provisions here for you, and to be 
 sure, you are too much of gentlemen to think of 
 frightening a family of poor helpless women!" 
 
 Happily I made no reply ; for while these young 
 viragoes were catechising us at this r<ite, I discover- 
 ed with much pleasure, that the lady of the house 
 did not utter a v^-ord, but walked the room backward 
 and forward with a smiling countenance. Presently 
 she went out ; and showing herself at an opposite win- 
 dow, beckoned me to come to her ; when she said, in 
 a low voice, " Go back into the house, I'll be there 
 directly. On my stepping in you must demand pro- 
 visions; I w^ill deny that I have any. You must then 
 get into a violent passion, and swear you will have 
 them, or set the house on fire. I will then throw 
 down the keys, and you can take just what you want; 
 for thank God, there is enough, both for you and 
 your horses." 
 
 Such was the farce, which the whigs in those days, 
 both ladies and gentlemen, were obliged to play, w'^hen 
 they had any of their tory acquaintance about them, 
 We now played it, and with the desired success ; for 
 the troughs in the yard were all presently filled with 
 corn and fodder for our cavalry ; while for ourselves 
 
136 THE LIFE OF 
 
 the good-natured cook wenches soon serveiJ up a most 
 welcome repast of fried bacon and egsjfs, with nice 
 hearth cakes and butter and milk. "God be praised," 
 said we ; and down we sat, and made a breakfast, ol 
 which even kings, without exercise and keen appe- 
 tites, can form no idea. 
 
 Just as we had got completely refreshed, and braced 
 up again, what should we hear but the firing of our 
 sentinels. " To horse! toliorsc! my br are fellows T^ 
 was the cry of one and all. Quick as thought, we 
 were all mounted and formed, when in came our sen- 
 tinels, with the British dragoons hard after them, 
 smack up to the fence. Cliarge boys, charge! was 
 the word. In a moment the yard was bright with the 
 shining of our swords. The tory girls shrieked out 
 for their swetthearts — " Oh the British ! the British ! 
 murder! murder! Oh!'''' Then o(i' we went, all at 
 once, in solid column. The enemy took to their heels, 
 and we pursued. Over the fence we bounded like 
 stags. Down the hill went the Briii.sh. Down the 
 hill went we ; helter-skelter, man ami horse, we flew; 
 roaring through the woods like the sound of distant 
 thunder. 
 
 We were ail excellently mounted ; but there was 
 no horse that could hold the way with Selim. He 
 was the hindmost of all when the chase began ; and 
 I wondered at first what had become of Selim ; but 
 presently I saw him and Macdonald coming up on my 
 right like a thundergust Indeed, with his wide- 
 spread nostrils, and long extended neck, and glaring 
 eyeballs, he seemed as a flying dragon in chase of his 
 prey. He soon had his master up with the enemy 
 I saw when Macdonald drew his claymore. The 
 shining of his steel was terrible, as, rising on his stir- 
 rups, with high-lifted arm, he waved it three times 
 in fiery circles over his head, as if to call up all his 
 strength. Then, with a voice of thunder, he {)oured 
 his charging shout, dreadful as the roar of the lion 
 when, close up to his game, with hideous paws un' 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 137 
 
 clenched, he makes his last spring on the fat buffaloes 
 of his chase. 
 
 Though their mortal enemy, I could not but pity 
 the poor fugitives, for I saw that their death was at 
 hand. One of the British officers fired a pistol at 
 him, but without effect: before he could try another, 
 he was cut down by Macdonald. After this, at a 
 blow a piece, he sealed the eyes of three dragoons 
 in lasting sleep. Two fell beneath the steel of the 
 strong-handed Snipes ; nor did my sword return 
 bloodless to its scabbard. In short, of the whole 
 party, consisting of twenty-five, not a man escaped, 
 except one officer, who, in the heat of the chase 
 and carnage, cunningly shot off, at right angles, for 
 a swamp, which he luckily gained, and so cleared 
 himself. 
 
 The name of this officer was Meriot, and as finish- 
 ed a gentleman he was too, as I ever saw. I got ac- 
 quainted with him after the war, at New York. Soon 
 as the ceremony of introduction was over, he smiled, 
 and asked if I were not in the skirmish just related .'' 
 On being answered in the affirmative, he again in- 
 quired, if I did not recollect how handsomely one of 
 tlie British officers gave me the slip that day ? I told 
 him I did. " Well," continued he, "1 was that offi- 
 cer; and of all the frights I ever had in my life, that 
 was the most complete. Will you believe me, sir, 
 when I assure you, ihat I went out that morning, with 
 my locks of as bright an auburn as ever curled upon 
 the forehead of youth ; and by the time I had crawl- 
 ed out of the swamp, into Georgetown, that night, 
 they were as gray as a badger ! I was well nigh 
 t?kmg an oath never to forgive you, during breath, 
 for frightening me so confoundedly. But, away with 
 all malice ! let it go to the devil, where it belongs. 
 So come, you must go dine with me, and I'll .show 
 you a lovelier woman than either of those that rode 
 in the chair that day." 
 
 1 went with him, and was introduced to his wite, 
 
 12* 
 
13b' T"E LIFE OF 
 
 a lovely woman indeed ! to whom, wifh great glee, 
 he related the whole history of the chase, and his own 
 narrow escape, and then laughed very heartily. But 
 not so his gentle partner. For, as he told of the 
 shrill whizzing of our swords close hehind him, and 
 of the groans of his dragoons as they fell, cut down 
 from their horses, her face turned pale, and pensive ; 
 then, looking at him with great tenderness, she heaved 
 a deep sigh, to think how near her husband had been 
 to death. 
 
 Meriot looked with pleasure on the troubled coun- 
 tenance of his lovely wife, because he well knew tlie 
 fond source of her troubles. Then, snatching up a 
 goblet of sangree, richly mantled over with nutmeg, 
 he presented it to her ruby lips, saying, " Come, my 
 dear, drink, and forget the past!" Then, taking my 
 hand with great cordiality, he exclaimed, "Well, colo- 
 nel Horry, we have been foes, but thank God, we are 
 good friends again. And now let me drink to you a 
 sentiment of my heart. Hare's friedsldp in marble^ 
 enmity in c/usf." 
 
 The behavior of this noble Englishman, has often 
 served to deepen my abhorrence of war, which too 
 frequently sets those to cutting each other's throats, 
 who were born to be brothers. 
 
 But to return to our story. " Meriot,'' you'll say, 
 " and his brother otHcer, brought their pigs to a bad 
 market.^'' Yes, indeed : but not a jot worse than some 
 of their friends came to the very day afterwards. On 
 the morning of that day, Marion, now concealed in 
 the swamps, near Georgetown, was pleased to order 
 rae out on a second excursion. " Take captain 
 Snipes," said he, " with thirty men, and proceed 
 down the Sandpit road, in quest of the enemy. The 
 moment you discover them, whether British or to- 
 ries, charge with spirit, and I'll wariant your sue 
 cess." 
 
 As we approached the bridge, still moving on very 
 circumspectly, in the woods, we discovered at a shor* 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 139 
 
 Jistance, a body of horsemen, perhaps a hundred, ap- 
 parently in great confusion, and very anxious to form. 
 Instantly we took the road, and clapping spurs to our 
 horses, dashed upon them at full speed, at the same 
 time shouting as we rushed on. The enemy broke 
 and fled in all directions. We pursued. Then you 
 might have seen the woods all covered with armed 
 men ; some flying, others pursuing ; and with muskets, 
 and pistols, and swords, shooting and cutting down 
 as fast as they could. 
 
 From the unevenness of the ground, and rapidity of 
 the charge, my men were all soon out of sight, leav- 
 ing with me but a lad of fourteen, named Guinn, who 
 carried a musket. At that instant, a party of nine or 
 ten men were seen advancing, whom I took for whigs, 
 and challenged as such, asking if they were not friends ? 
 " Friends ! O yes !" replied their captain, (one Lewis) 
 " friends to be sure ; friends to king George!" 
 
 Quick as thought, off went Gwinn's musket, close 
 by my side, and down tumbled captain Lewis from 
 his horse, with a heavy squelch, to the ground. But 
 in (he very instant of receiving his death, his musket 
 which was raised to kill me, took fire and shot my 
 horse dead on the spot. Seeing my horse drop, Gwinn 
 dismounted, and led his horse up to me in a moment. 
 
 Happily for us both, captain Snipes heard the re- 
 port of our pieces, anc thinking that we might be in 
 danger, dashed on to our aid, with several of my 
 troops whooping and huzzaing as they came on. The 
 tory party then fired at us, but without effect, and fled 
 leaving four of Marion's men, whom they had just 
 taken, and beaten very barbarously with the butts of 
 their muskets. 
 
 This was a fatal day to the tories, who must have 
 lost more than half their number. For I had with me 
 not only Macdonald and Snipes, but several other i 
 very strong and brave men, whose families had suf- 
 fered very severely, by British and tory cruelty ; and,' 
 1 am afraid, they did not forget this, when theii 
 
140 'I'HE LIFE oF 
 
 swords were hanging over the heads of the fugitives. 
 At any rate, they took but few prisoners. 
 
 In the course of this day's fighting, there happened 
 an affair which served to amuse us not a little on our 
 return to our camp that night. The tories, who, from 
 time to time had fallen into our hands, were often 
 easing their vexation, by saying, that it was true, 
 " Marion had proved too cunning for colonel Tynea 
 and captain Barfield, and other British and loyal offi- 
 cers, whom he had attacked ; but that there was still 
 one left behind, who, they were sure, if he could 
 come forward, would soon show us quite a different 
 sort of play ; and that was colonel Gainey, from the 
 head waters of Pedee." We answered, that it was 
 all very well ; and that we should be glad to see colo- 
 nel Gainey. Now, as God was pleased to have it, 
 who should it be, that with one-third of his number, 
 we had been chasing so to-day, but colonel Gainey ; 
 a stout officer-looking fellow he was too, and most 
 nobly mounted. Macdonald made a dash at him, in 
 full confidence of getting a gallant charger. But the 
 good book tells us, that " the race is not always to the 
 swift ;" and owing partly to the tleetness of his horse, 
 and partly to a most extraordinary sort of accident, 
 colonel Gainey made his escape from our Scotsman. 
 The chase was towards Georgetown, distant little 
 more than two miles. Never on earth did two horses 
 or horsemen make greater exertions. Fear impelling 
 the one, fury urging the other. Macdonald declared, 
 that in the chase he had passed several tories whom he 
 could easily have cut down, but like the lion in pur- 
 suit of a favorite butialo, betook no notice of them. 
 His eye was fixed on colonel Gainey. Just as they 
 turned Richmond corner, Selim had brought his mas- 
 ter near enough to his prey to make a stroke at him ' 
 with his bayonet. By a iiudden jerk, it is supposed, 
 vhe weapon turned ; so that when Macdonald drew 
 back the carbine, he left the bayonet up to the hilt in { 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION j ^] 
 
 his back. In this way colonel Gainey rode into town, 
 prodigiously to his own and the mortification of his 
 friends the British and tories. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Spirit of the tories — assassination of lieutenant Marion — the 
 murderer murdered — Marion's reflections on the death of his 
 nephew — liis manner of rewarding extraordinary courage 
 among his men — sketch of tlie brave boy Gwinn. 
 
 " If mortal hands thy peace destroy, 
 Or friendship's gifts beskjvv, 
 
 Wilt tliou 10 man ascribe the joy- 
 To man impute the wo? 
 
 'Tis GOD, whose thoughts for wisest ends 
 
 The human lots dispose ; 
 Around thee plants assisting friends, 
 
 Or heaps chastising foes. 
 
 Not from the bow the deaths proceed. 
 
 But from the Archer's skill, 
 He lends the winged shaft its speed 
 
 And gives it power to kill." 
 
 And here I must relate a tragical affair that befel 
 us that day, and which filled us all with grief, because 
 of our beloved general. I mean the barbarous murder 
 of his nephew. Of all men who ever drew the sword, 
 Marion was one of the most humane. He not only 
 prevented all cruelty, in his own presence, but strictly 
 forbade it in his absence. I have known him to talk 
 for a quarter of an hour together, with one of his men, 
 for striking over the head, a horse that had started ; 
 and to punish another for taking away from a negro, 
 his ragged chicken. To reason then like men, one 
 would suppose that he was the last person on whom 
 
142 THE LIFE OF 
 
 such a ciuel blow as the murder of a favorite nephew 
 should have fallen. But thanks to God, for that most 
 comfortable doctrine, that not even a sparrow can die 
 until his death-warrant has been signed in heaven ; 
 and, since this young man did die at that time, there 
 can be no doubt but that was the right time. 
 
 The manner of his death was this. We have told 
 the reader, that, in the course of this day's fighting, 
 we retook from the tories four of Marion's Men, whom 
 they had very barbarously beaten with the butts of 
 their guns. On being asked how they came to fall 
 into such bad company, they said, that immediately 
 after sending me off, in the morning, Marion got in- 
 formation that a party of tories were encamped not 
 far distant, on a plantation of colonel Alston's, called 
 
 " The Penns." Captain M was despatched to 
 
 surprise them ; but he played his cards so badly, that, 
 instead of surprising them, they surprised him, killed 
 several of his men, and took the others. Among the 
 prisoners was the general's nephew, lieutenant Gabriel 
 Marion, of the continentals, who, happening at that 
 time on a visit to his uncle, turned out a volunteer, 
 and was taken. The tories murdered several of their 
 unfortunate prisoners in cold blood, by first beating 
 them over the head with the butts of their muskets, 
 and then shooting them. They said that lieutenant 
 Marion, at sight of such horrid scenes, apj)eared much 
 shocked : and seeing among them a man who had 
 often been entprtained at his uncle's table, he tlew to 
 him for protection, and threw himself into his arms. 
 The man seemed greatly distressed, and tried hard to 
 save him ; but the others roared out. that " he was 
 one of the breed of that d — d old rebel," and that 
 they would have his hearfs blood. They, moreover, 
 swore, with the most horrid oaths, that if the man 
 did not instantly push young Marion from him, they 
 would blow him through also. The unfortunate youth 
 Deing then thrust from the side of his friend, was im- 
 mediately destroyed. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 143 
 
 I hope the tender mercies of God are so great as 
 not to let our unworthiness prevent him from always 
 doing what is exactly right and good for us. We ought 
 not, therefore, to breathe a wish different from the will 
 and order of Providence. But still, to us, it seems a 
 
 great pity we did not get notice of captain M 's 
 
 advancing. We could have made a handsome joint 
 attack of it, and thereby not only have prevented the 
 horrid murders above related, but have scourged 
 those barbarians, as they deserved. For we heard 
 the firing, but thought it was colonel Alston's people 
 killing beeves. 
 
 Among the very few prisoners that we made in our 
 last action, was a mulatto fellow, who was suspected 
 to be one of those who had murdered the general's 
 nephew. Whether the suspicion was well or ill found- 
 ed, I cannot say : but, certain it is, that the indigna- 
 tion excited against him, on that account, soon proved 
 his destruction. For, as we were crossing the swamps 
 of Black river that night, an officer rode up to him, 
 while marching in the line of prisoners under guard, 
 and with a pistol, shot him dead on the spot. The 
 captain of the guard was instantly sent for, and se- 
 verely reprimanded by the general, for not having 
 killed the author of that savage deed. 
 
 It was said the officer had offered a bottle of rum 
 to have the mulatto shot, but, finding none that would 
 do it, he did it himself. I do not give this as a fact, 
 but, I know it was the talk in camp, though carefully 
 kept from the general, as every body knew it would 
 have given him great pain. He often said, " he truly 
 lamented the untimely death of his nephew ; and that 
 he had been told, that this poor man was his murderer. 
 But ihat, as a prisoner, his life ought to have been 
 held most sacred ; especially as the charge against 
 him was without evidence, and, perhaps, no belter 
 than conjecture. As to ray nephew," continued he, 
 " 1 believe he was cruelly murdered : but living vir- 
 tuously, as he did. and then dying fighting for the 
 
144 'i'HE LIFE OF 
 
 lights of man, he is, no doubt, happy: ar.d this is 
 my comfort." 
 
 The next day JMarion ordered the troops under 
 arms, and formed them into a large circle, all fronting 
 the centre. While we were wondering what could be 
 the meaning of this strange manoeuvre, a sergeant was 
 seen leading into the circle an elegant holse, under 
 saddle and bridle, with portmanteau, sword, pistols, 
 and musket. This was the horse, furniture, and arms 
 of captain Lewis, whom the lad Gwinn, so fortunate- 
 ly for me, had killed in the action three days before. 
 Marion then called Gwinn from the ranks. . 
 
 The boy approached him with his hat off. 
 
 The general, placing his hand upon his head, in the 
 presence of the whole squadron, pronounced him " a 
 brave little man ; and there," pointing to the horse 
 and furniture, " there is the reward of your gallantry." 
 
 " Gwinn, sir," said I, " is not a good soldier, he 
 fired without orders." 
 
 " That's very true," replied he, " but I am sure, 
 colonel, you are the last that ought to blame me, on 
 that account; lor if I had not fired and killed captain 
 Lewis, exactly as I did, he would have killed you ; 
 qnd besides, his saying he v.as the friend of George 
 the third, was enough for me ; I did not think I could 
 fire too quick on such a man as that." 
 
 But when the sergeant, at the order of Marion, led 
 up to him the horse, richly furnitured, as aforesaid, 
 the confusion and grimace of the lad were truly di- 
 verting. He blushed, he chuckled, he looked around 
 and around upon his comrades, as if at a loss how to 
 contain himself, or what to do. At length he made 
 shitt to reach out his hand to the bridle, though deep- 
 ly blushing, and said, " Dear me now! well la ! what 
 will mammy think, and the children, when they come 
 io see me, riding up here on this famous horse, and 
 all tlie^ejine things ! 1 know well enough how mam- 
 my will have a hearty cry, that's what she will ; for 
 she will Uiink I staled him. But if any of the folks 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 145 
 
 up our way should go to jaw about me, at that rate, 
 I trust as koto, general, you will take my part, and 
 set 'em straight." 
 
 Marion smiled, and commended him for a good 
 boy, and told him to give his compliments to his 
 mother, and also his thanks to her, for being such a 
 true mother to her children, in bringing them up so 
 honestly. 
 
 But the general was told the next day, that Gwinn 
 had said, "he always hated the tories, because they 
 would not fight for their country ; and, since the gen- 
 eral had paid him so well for killing one of them, he 
 was determined to try if he could not kill more." 
 
 And he did kill more too, I'll warrant him, for he 
 was with us to the end of the war, in many a hard 
 brush. And then he was such a dead shot with a 
 rifle! Standing, running, or flying, it was all one to 
 Gwinn. He would make nothing, at a hundred 
 yards, to stop you a buck, at full tilt through the 
 woods, as hard as he could crack it; and at every 
 clip, to bring down the squirrels from the tops of the 
 tallest trees of the forest. 
 
 IS 
 
|46 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ''^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mutiuj ill our camp — Marion suppresses it — his address to tho 
 officers. 
 
 This war, though on our part a war o( virtue, was 
 not always so pleasant as might have been expected. 
 Instances of human weakness often occurred to dis- 
 turb our harmony, and fill good men's l>earts with 
 sorrow. For how, without grief, could we behold a 
 man fighting by our side to-day like a hero, for the 
 rights of bleeding humanity ; to-morrow, like a head- 
 strong child, or a headlong beast, trampling them un- 
 der foot ! And oh ! how sad to see nature's good- 
 liest gifts, of manly size, and strer.rrth, and couragCy 
 set off, too, in the proudest ornaments of war, the 
 fierce cocked hat, the flaming regimentals, and gold- 
 en shoulder-knots, all defeated of their power to 
 charm, nay, all turned into pity and contempt, in con- 
 sequence of our knowing the owners to be gamblers, 
 swindlers, and villains! 
 
 Such was the truly pitiable case of some, in thi? 
 our glorious war of liberty. For want of a good edu- 
 cation, I mean the early precepts of virtue, from a 
 parent's lips, with a few excellent books, to lift the 
 noble kindlings of the soul, the flame could not ascend 
 to what was heavenly and just ; but with inverted 
 point, stuck downward to selfishness and vice. Men 
 of this character, though enlisted in the war of liberty, 
 were not her soldiers, felt not her entiiusiasm, nor her 
 consolations. They did not walk the camp, glorying 
 in themselves, as men called to tl.e honor of hum- 
 bling the tyrant, and of establishing the golden reign 
 of equal laws, in their own dear country, and thence, 
 perhaps over all the earth. Alas! no! strangers to 
 these divine views and wishes, tht-y look no higher 
 than sordid gain! and as there was but little of tiiat 
 reward to be had, they were often gloomy and low 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. { [-} 
 
 spirited. " Their life," they were wont murmuriiigly 
 10 say, " was wearing away ; their country gave thetu 
 nothing, and they must e'en try to do something for 
 themselves." 
 
 In truth, plunder, plunder, was what they were 
 spelling for. They^ were' continually darting their 
 greedy eyes upon every piece of merchandise tliat 
 came in their way. They had the heart not only to 
 plunder the tories, and to bring their unoffending 
 children to want ; but also to rob and ruin their own 
 friends the whigs, if they could but do it with impu- 
 nity. 
 
 I am led to these reflections by a most shameful 
 affair, which happened in our camp about this time, 
 and which threatened consequences as serious as 
 "their source was shameful. 
 
 We were encamped near the house of a rich man 
 by the name of Cross. His wife, in sense and domes- 
 tic virtues, was an Abigail ; while as to her hus- 
 band, his riches, though great, were his least recom- 
 mendation, for he possessed all the generosity and 
 honor of the noblest patriot. His soul delighted in 
 Marion, whom he called the pillar of our cause. Oft 
 as he took leave of us, for battle, his bosom would 
 heave, his visage swell, and the tear would start into 
 his eye. ' And when he saw us return again, loaded 
 with the spoils of victory, he would rush to meet us, 
 with all a brother's transports on his face. His flocks 
 and herds, his meat-houses and corn-fields, were all 
 our own ; while his generous looks would tell us that 
 he still wished for more to give. Indeed, often at the 
 most imminent risk of his life, he used to send us in- 
 telligence, and also furnish us with powder and ball. 
 But this most amiable of men, was not permitted to 
 see our cause triumphant ; for in the midst of his sighs 
 and tears for his struggling country, God took him to 
 his own rest. The messenger of death came to hiin, 
 iu the character of a 7iervous fever. As the physi- 
 
148 THE LIFE OF 
 
 cians did not like to visit him on his plantation, he 
 was carried into Georgetown to be near them. 
 
 Marion went to see him the morning he set out ; 
 and immediately after his departure, fixed a guard at 
 his house, that nothing might be disturbed. One 
 would indeed have supposed it unnecessary to place 
 a guard over such a house as his. But alas! what 
 will not a base heart-hardening avarice do! And I 
 blush while I relate, that, the very day after our gen- 
 erous friend was carried off, pale and hollow-eyed, 
 to Georgetown, whence he never more returned, two 
 of our officers, one of them a Major, went to his 
 house to pillage it! 
 
 The guard, of course, opposed: but they dammed 
 him for an " impertinent rascal," and swore that if he 
 opened his mouth again, they w-ould spit him on the 
 spot. Then bursting the door, they went in, and after 
 forcing the desks, drawers, and trunks, they rifled 
 them of whatever they wanted. 
 
 This most unsoldierly and detestable transaction 
 was communicated to me by Mrs. Cross herself; 
 whose servant came to me next morning with her 
 compliments, and requested that I would go down to 
 her, where she was sitting in her carriage at the road. 
 I.waited on her at once ; and greatly to my grief, 
 found her in tears. I entreated to know the cause. 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied she, " we are ruined ! we are 
 ruined! Poor Mr. Cross is, I fear, on his deathbed. 
 A.nd then what will become of me and my poor chil 
 dren, when he is gone, and every thing is taken from 
 us!" She then reminded me of her husband's love 
 to general Marion and his people, from wiiora he 
 withheld nothing, but gladly imparted of all he had, 
 though often at the risk of his utter destruction from 
 the British and tories. "And yet, after all," said 
 she, " soon as my poor sick husband's back is turned,, 
 your people can go and break him up !" 
 
 "Madam," I replied, "I hope 'tis no ollence to 
 ask your pardon ; for I really cannot admit a suspi* 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 149 
 
 cion so disgraceful to onr troop : and to my certain 
 knowledge, general Marion placed a guard over your 
 house the moment Mr. Cross left it." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said she, " that's very true. And it 
 was like general Marion. But some of our officers 
 have forced the guard and broken open the house, 
 and this instant I saw one of them with Mr. Cross's 
 sword by his side." 
 
 I never felt more mortified in my life. Then, after 
 entreating her to be perfectly easy about her house 
 and furnilure in future, I took leave of this excellent 
 lady, and flew to the guard to see if what I had heard 
 were true. 
 
 He told me it was too true ; mentioned the names 
 of the officers ; and even went so far as to show me 
 one of them strutting about with the sword by his 
 side ! 
 
 It was well for the wretch, that I did not possess 
 the eyes of a basilisk, for I should certainly have 
 blasted him on the spot. Pausing, however, one 
 salutary moment, to confirm myself in the love of 
 virtue, by noting how abominable a villain looks, I 
 hasted to the general with the hateful tale ; which ex- 
 cited in his honest bosom the indignation which I 
 had expected. Then calling one of his aids, he said, 
 
 " Go to major , and desire him to send me Mr. 
 
 Cross's sword immediately." 
 
 The aid was presently back, but without the sword 
 On being asked by the general, why he had not 
 brought it, he replied ; " The major says, sir, that the 
 sword does not belong to Mr. Cross. He says, 
 moreover, that if you want the sword, you must go 
 for it yourself." 
 
 " VVeJl, go back," said the general, " and desire 
 those two officers to come to me." 
 
 It was not for such an afl[air as this to be kept se- 
 cret. It took wind in a moment ; and by the time 
 the two officers were arrived, almost all the field offi- 
 
 13* 
 
150 THE LIFE OF 
 
 cers had come together to the general's quarters, to 
 see how he would act on this extraordinary occasion. 
 
 Inferring from the looks of the two culprits, that 
 they meant to test his firmness ; and, willing that 
 the company should fully understand the merits of 
 the case, he thus addressed us: 
 
 " You well know, genllemen," said he, " how like 
 a brother the proprietor of this plantation has always 
 treated us. We never gained a victory, but it caused 
 him tears of joy; and however starved by others, by 
 him we have ever been feasted. You also know, that 
 he is now gone, sick, to Georgetown — there, perhaps, 
 to die. Soon as he left us, I placed a guard over his 
 house ; but, at the same time, blushed for the reflec- 
 tion cast on my men; all of whom, as I thought, 
 would, instead of robbing, have defended it with 
 their lives. But, equally to my astonishment and 
 grief, I find I was mistaken. Yes, gentlemen, our 
 friend has been robbed, not by the poor untutored 
 privates in the ranks, but by my officers! by those 
 who ought to have abhorred such an act! Yes, gen- 
 tlemen, two of our brethren in arms — two of our offi- 
 cers — forgetting what they owed to you, what Ihey 
 owned to me, and, most of all, to their country and to 
 themselves, have done this odious deed ! And one of 
 them (here he pointed to the major) now wears by 
 his siJe the sword of our sick and injured friend. 
 
 " Well knowing that all men, even the best, have 
 too often 'done those things which they ought not to 
 have done,' I felt it my duty to be as tender with this 
 gentleman as possible ; and therefore, sent him a po- 
 lite request that he would return the sword : to which 
 he was pleased to reply, that ' if I wanted it, I must 
 come and take it myself.' Still wishing to settle the 
 affiiir in a way as much to his credit as possible, I 
 sent for him to come to me. And now, sir, (address- 
 ing the m.njor) I entreat of you, for the last time, to 
 give me up that sword." 
 
 With srreat rudeness he swore he vould not. fn- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARIOxN. 151 
 
 stantly every face was dark: and, biting his lip with 
 rag.e, each officer laid his hand upon hi.s sword and 
 looked to the general. One word, nay, one assenting 
 look, and the brute would have been hewed into mince- 
 meat in a moment. For my own part, whether I felt 
 more, or governed myself less than the rest, I cannot 
 say : but looking to the general, I broke out with an 
 oath, that if I commanded as he did, / would have 
 that fellow hung in Jive minutes. 
 
 " This is no business of yours, sir," replied he, 
 rather sternly ; " they are now before me." 
 
 Then looking at the major, still with great benig- 
 nity, he said — "And do you really mean, sir, not to 
 give me up that sword ?" 
 
 " Sir, I will not!" replied the major. 
 
 " Sergeant of the guard !" said the general, " bring 
 me instant. y a fi.e of soldiers!" 
 
 Upon this, the major's colleague, who stood by, 
 was seen to touch him. 
 
 Seeing the guard coming up with their naked 
 weapons, and much anger in their looks, the major 
 lost his courage, turned pale, and, in a sadly altered 
 tone, whined out, " General, you needed not to have 
 called in the guard. I will deliver up the sword. 
 Here it is." 
 
 " No, sir, I will not accept it at your hands. Give 
 it to the sergeant.'' 
 
 To this humiliating order, with much shame and 
 blushing, the poor major was constrained to comply. 
 
 Thus, happily, were extinguished the first sparks 
 of a mutiny, which, it was once thought, would have 
 broken out into a dangerous flame. The cool, dis- 
 passionate address which effected this, did not fail to 
 produce a proper impression on us all. This the 
 general easily perceived in our looks ; and thereupon, 
 as was common with him, when any such occasion 
 ^erved, he arose and addressed us, in, as nearly as I 
 ran recollect, the following words: 
 
 " When, gentlemen, shall we catch the spirit ot ovu 
 
152 I'Hl: life of 
 
 profession ; the spirit of men fighting fo/ a republic , 
 f,» a commonwealth of brothers ! that government most 
 glorious, where God alone is king! that government 
 most pleasaiity where men make and obey their own 
 laws ! and that governmenl most prosperous, where 
 men, reaping as they sow, feel the utmost stimulus 
 to every virtue that can exalt the human character 
 and condition! This government, the glory of the 
 earth, has ever been the desire of the wise and good 
 of all nations. For this, the Platos of Greece, the 
 Catos of Rome, the Tells of Switzerland, the Sidneys 
 of England, and the Washingtons of America, have 
 sighed and reasoned, have fought and died. In this 
 grand army, gentlemen, we are now enlisted ; and 
 are combatting under the same banners with those 
 excellent men of the earth. Then let self-gratulation 
 gladden our every heart, and swell each high-toned 
 nerve. With such worthies by our sides, with such 
 a CAUSK 'fore our eyes, let us move on with joy to 
 the battle and charge like the honored champions 
 of God ai of human rights. But, in the moment 
 of victor}!, let the supplicating enemy find us as 
 lovely in mercy, as we are terrible in valor. Our 
 enemies are blind. They neither understand nor de- 
 sire the happiness of mankind. Ignorant, therefore, 
 as children, they claim our pity for themselves. And 
 as to their widows and Utile ones, the very thought 
 of Mem should fill our soids with tenderness. The 
 crib that contains their corn, the cow that gives them 
 milk, the cabin that shelters their feeble heads from 
 the storm, should be sacred in our eyes. Weak and 
 helpless, as they are, still they are the nurslings of 
 heaven — our best intercessors with the Almighty. 
 Let them but give us their blessings, and I care not 
 how much the British curse. Let tlieir prayers as- 
 cend up before (lod in our behalf, and Corn.vallis 
 and Tarleton shall yet flee before us, like frightened 
 wolves before the well armed shepherds!" 
 
 Such were th]p words of Marion, in the day when 
 
Page 153. 
 
 Qenrul Marion feasting the British Office: on sweet 
 potatoes. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 153 
 
 ne saw in our looks, that our hearts were prepared tor 
 instruction. And such was the epilogue to the mutiny. 
 The satisfaction which it gave to the officers was so 
 general and sincere, that I often heard them say after- 
 wards, that since the mutiny was suppressed, they 
 were glad it happened ; for it had given them an op- 
 portunity to hear a lecture, which they hoped would 
 make them better men and braver soldiers too, as 
 long as they lived. 
 
 About this time we received a flag from the enemy 
 in Georgetown; the object of which was, to make 
 some arrangements about the exchange of prisoners. 
 The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, 
 was conducted into Marion's encampment. Having 
 heard great talk about general Marion, his fancy had, 
 naturally enough, sketched out for him some stout 
 figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara or Cornwallis 
 himself, of martial aspect and flaming regimentals. 
 But what was his surprise, when, led into Marion's 
 presence, and the bandage taken from his eyes, he 
 beheld in our hero, a swarthy, smoke-dried little 
 man, with scarce enough of threadbare homespun to 
 cover his nakedness ! and in place of tall ranks, of 
 gaily dressed soldiers, a handful of sunburnt yellow- 
 legged militia-men ; some roasting potatoes and some 
 asleep, with their black firelocks and powder-horns 
 lying by them on the logs! Having recovered a little 
 from his surprise, he presented his letter to general 
 Marion ; who perused it, and soon settled every thing 
 to his satisfaction. 
 
 The officer took up his hat to retire. 
 
 " Oh no !" said Marion ; " it is now about our time 
 of dining ; and I hope, sir, you will give us the 
 pleasure of your company to dinner." 
 
 At mention of the w^ord dinner^ the British office, 
 looked around him ; but to his great mortification, 
 could see no sign of a pot, pan, Dutch-oven, or any 
 other cooking utensil that could raise the spirits of a 
 hungry man. 
 
154 'i'lIE LIFE Of 
 
 "Well, Tom,*' said the general to one of his men, 
 " nome, give us our dinner." 
 
 The dinner to which he alluded, was no other than 
 a heap of sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roast- 
 ing under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine 
 stick poker, soon liberated from their ashy coniine- 
 ment ; pinching them, every now and then, with his 
 fingers, especially the big ones, to see whether they 
 were well done or not. Then having cleansed them 
 of the ashes, paitly by blowing them with his breath, 
 and partly by brushing them with the sleeve of his 
 old cotlon shirt, he piled some of the best on a large 
 piece of bark, and placed them between the British 
 officer and Marion, on the trunk of the fallen pine on 
 which they sat. 
 
 " I fear, sir," said the general, " our dinner will 
 not prove so palatable to you as I could wish ; but it 
 is the best we have." 
 
 The officer, who was a well bred man, took up one 
 of the potatoes and affected to feed, as if he had found 
 a great dainty ; but it was very plain, that he ate 
 more from good manners than good appetite. 
 
 Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh. Ma- 
 rion looked surprised. " I beg pardon, general," 
 said he: "but one cannot, you know, always com- 
 mand his conceits. I was thinking how drolly some 
 of my brother officers would look, if our government 
 were to give them such a bill of fare as this." 
 
 " I suppose," replied Marion, " it is not equal to 
 their style of dining." 
 
 "No, indeed," quoth the officer; "and this, 1 
 imagine, is one of your Accidental lent dinners ; a 
 sort of a ban yan. In general, no doubt, you live a 
 gteat deal better." 
 
 " Rather worse," answered the general : " foi 
 often we don't gel enough of this." 
 
 " Heavens !" rejoined the officer. " But probably, 
 what you lose in jnea I you make up in dkiU ; though 
 Btinted '\x\ provisions , you draw nohXe pay V 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 155 
 
 " Not a cent, sir," said Marion, " not a cent." 
 
 "Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a bad 
 box. I don't see, general, how you can stand it." 
 
 " Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self- 
 approbation, " these things depend on feeling." 
 
 The Englishman said, he " did not believe that it 
 would be an easy matter to reconcile his feelings to a 
 soldier's life on general Marion's terms"; all fighting 
 and no pay ! and no provisions but potatoes T^ 
 
 " Why, sir," answered the general, " the heart is 
 all; and, when that is much interested, a man can 
 do any thing. Many a youth would think it hard to 
 indent himself a slave for fourteen years. But lei 
 him be over head and ears in love, and v.ith such a 
 beauteous sweetheart as Rachael, and he will think no 
 more of fourteen years' servitude than young Jacob 
 did. W^ell, now, this is exactly my case. I am in 
 love ; and my sweetheart is Liberty. Be that hea- 
 venly nymph my companion, and these w^ilds and 
 woods shall have charms beyond London and Paiis 
 in slavery. To have no proud monarch driving 
 over me with his gilt coaches ; nor his host of ex- 
 cise-men and tax-gatherers insulting and robbing me ; 
 but to be my own master, my own prince and sove- 
 reign, gloriously preserving my national dignity, and 
 pursuing my true happiness ; planting my vineyards, 
 and eating their lucious fruits ; and sowing my fields, 
 and reaping the golden grain : and seeing millions of 
 brothers all around me, equally free and happy as my- 
 self. This, sir, is what I long for." 
 
 The officer replied, that both as a man and a Bri- 
 ton, he must certainly subscribe to this as a happy 
 state of things. 
 
 "Happy!" quoth Marion; " yes, happy indeed! 
 and I had rather fight for such blessings for my coun- 
 try, and feed on roots, than keep aloof, though wal- 
 lowing in all the luxuries of Solomon. For now, sir, 
 T walk the soil that gave me birth, and exult in the 
 thc'ight that I am not unworthy of it. I look upon 
 
156 THE LIFE OF 
 
 these venerable trees around mc, and feel (hrit I do 
 not dishonor them. I think of my own sacred 
 rights, and rejoice that I have not basely deserted 
 thena. And when I look forward to the long ages 
 of posterity, I glory in the thought that I am fighting 
 their battles. The children of distant generations 
 may never hear my name ; but still it gladdens my 
 heart to think that I am now contending f-^r their 
 freedom^ and all its countless blessings." 
 
 I looked at Marion as he uttered these sentiment.^, 
 and fancied I felt as when I heard the last words of 
 the brave De Kalb. The Englishman hung his ho- 
 nest head, and looked, I thought, as if he had seen 
 the upbraiding ghosts of his illustrious countrymen, 
 Sidney and Hampden. 
 
 On his return to- Georgetown, he was asked by 
 colonel Watson, why he looked so serious? 
 
 " I have cause, sir," said he, " to look serious." 
 
 " What! has general Marion refused to treat?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Well, then, has old Washington defeated sir 
 Henery Clinton, and broke up our army ?" 
 
 "No, sir, not that neither ; but worse.'''' 
 
 " Ah ! what can be worse ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, I have seen an American general and 
 his officers, without pay, and almost without clothes, 
 living on roots and drinking water ; and all for Li- 
 berty ! What chance have we against such men !" 
 
 It is said colonel Watson was not much obliged to 
 him for this speech. But the young otlicer was so 
 struck with Marion's sentiments, that he never rested 
 until he threw up his commission, and retired frona 
 the service. 
 
GEN. t RAJS CIS MARION. 157 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 • " Ah brandy ! brandy ! bane of life. 
 Spring of tumult — source of strife : 
 Could I but half thy curses tell, 
 The wise would wish thee safe at hell." 
 
 Curious and Instructive Anecdotes. 
 
 That great poet, John Milton, who seems to 
 have known him well, assures us that the devil was 
 the inventor of gunpowder. But, for my own part, 
 were I in the humor to ascribe any particular inven- 
 tion to the author of all evil, it should be thatof dis 
 tilling apple-brandy. We have scripture for it, that 
 he began his capers with the apple ; then, why not 
 go on with the brandy, which is but the fiery juice 
 of the apple .'' 
 
 At any rate, I am pretty sure I shall hardly ever 
 be able to think of it again with tolerable patience, as 
 long as I live. For, it was that vile filthy poison that 
 cut me out of one of the finest plumes that I ever ex- 
 pected to feather my cap with. 
 
 The case stands briefly thus. I have told the 
 reader, that Marion surprised and captured the cele- 
 brated tory partisan, colonel Tynes, after killing the 
 major part of his men. For safe keeping, he was 
 sent into North Carolina ; whence he made his es- 
 cape — got back into the forests of Black river, and 
 collected a stout force to try his fortune a second 
 time with Marion. 
 
 But, getting knowledge of the thing, Marion made 
 one of his forced marches, fell upon him, unawares, 
 and broke him up worse than before; killing and 
 taking his whole party. Tynes was sent again to 
 North Carolina; whence he contrived again to make 
 his escape ; and, returning to his old haunts, soon 
 rallied a formidable force, for a third trial. This 
 news was soon brought to general Marion, who there- 
 upon, desired me to take forty of our best cavaliers. 
 
 14 
 
158 THE LIFE or 
 
 and see if we could not scourge colonel Tyncs once 
 more. 
 
 About sunset we mounted, and travelled hard aL 
 that night and until the middle of next day, when we 
 halted, for refreshment, at the house of one who was 
 truly a " publican and sinner," for he was a great tory. 
 
 Not knowing what secret intelligence the man 
 might convey to the enemy, who were but fifteen 
 miles off", I had him taken up and put under guard. 
 We then got dinner, for which we honorably paid 
 the poor woman his wife. And now comes my woeful 
 story. While, after dinner, I was busily employed 
 in chatechising my prisoner, how should the devil be 
 employed, but in tempting my men with the distilled 
 juice of the apple? Having, by some ill luck, found 
 out that there was a barrel of it in the house, they 
 hastened to the poor landlady, who not only gave 
 them a full dose for the present, but filled their bot- 
 tles and canteens. 
 
 As we pushed on, after dinner, in high spirits, for 
 the enemy, I could not but remark how constantly 
 the men were turning up their canteens. 
 
 " What the plague have you got there, boys," said 
 I, " that you are so eternally drinking." 
 
 "Water! sir, water! nothing but water!" The 
 rogues were drinking brandy all the time ; but, by 
 way of whipping the devil round the stump, they 
 called it water ! that is, apple water. 
 
 Presently, finding, from their gaiety and frolick- 
 someness, what they had been after, I ordered a halt, 
 and set myself to harangue them for such unsoldierly 
 conduct. But I might as well of talked to a troop 
 of drunken Yahoos. For, some of them grinned in 
 my face like monkeys ; others looked as stupid as 
 asses ; while the greater part chattered like magpies ; 
 each boasted wdiat a clever fellow he was, and what 
 mighty things he could do, yet reeling all the time, 
 and scarcely able to sit his horse. Indeed our guide, 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 159 
 
 a lat joUer-headed fellow, fetching one of his heavy 
 lee lurches, got so far beyond his perpendicular, that 
 he could not right again ; but fell ofij and came to 
 the ground as helpless as a miller's bag. In short, 
 among my whole corps there was but one sober man, 
 and that was captain Neilson. 
 
 It is not for language to express one thousandth 
 part of my mortification and rage. To have made 
 such an extraordinary march, and at the head of such 
 choice fellows too ; to have come almost within sight 
 of the enemy; an enemy that I was eager to humble, 
 and which would have yielded me so complete and 
 glorious a viotory ; and yet to have lost all so shame- 
 fully : and thus like a fool to be sent back to my 
 general, with my finger in my mouth, was, indeed, 
 almost beyond endurance. But I was obliged to en- 
 dure it. For, to have led my men into action, in that 
 condition, would have heen no better than murdering 
 them. And to have kept them there until they could 
 have cooled off, was utterly out of the question. For 
 there was not a family in that whole district that 
 would, with their good will, have given us an hour's 
 repose, or a morsel of bread. I therefore instantly 
 ordered a retreat, which was made with all the noise 
 and irregularity that might have been expected from 
 a troop of drunkards, each of whom mistaking him- 
 self fo-r commander in chief, gave orders according to 
 his own mad humor ; and whooped and halloed at 
 such a rate, that I verily believed, no bull-drivers 
 ever made half the racket. 
 
 That we should have obtained a most complete 
 victory, is very certain. For in a few days after this, 
 we laid hands upon some of those very same tories, 
 who stated, that in consequence of the noise which 
 we made that night, colonel Tynes despatched some 
 of his cavalry up the road next morning, to see what 
 vvas the mattec. On coming to the spot, where I had 
 •• unly endeavored to form my drunken dogs, the> 
 
160 THE LIFE OF 
 
 found on the ground some of our pluin f , which 
 colonel Tynes no sooner saw than he bawled out, 
 ^^ Marion! Marion P'' then, leaping on their horses, 
 off they went, whip and spur. 
 
 " Well, where is colonel Tynes ?" said the general, 
 as I entered his presence. This was the question 
 "which I had expected, and, indeed, blushed for the 
 answer. But after hearing ray doleful story, he re- 
 plied with his usual philosophy : " Well, you did right 
 to retreat ; but pray keep a careful eye on the apple 
 water next time." 
 
 But to give the devil his due, I must confess there 
 was one instance, in which I thought some good was 
 done by brandy. This w^as in the case of captain 
 Snipes and his command, which by way of farce to 
 ray own tragedy, I beg leave to relate. 
 
 Hearing of a tory camp-meeting not far distant, 
 Marion despatched the brave captain Snipes with a 
 party to chastise them. They had scarcely got upon 
 the tory cruising-ground, before, at a short turn in the 
 road, they came Jiill butt upon a large body of horse- 
 men. Supposing them to be tories, Snipes instantly 
 gave the word to charge ; himself leading the way 
 with his usual impetuosity. The supposed tories, 
 wheeling about, took to the sands, and went off, as 
 hard as their horses could stave ; and thus, crack and 
 crack, they had it for about two miles. 
 
 Finding that Snipes was gaining u])on them, the 
 runagates began to lighten themselves of every thing 
 they could spare, and the road was pesently strewed 
 with blankets and knapsacks. One of thera, it seeras, 
 carried a five gallon keg of brandy, which he could 
 not think of parting with ; and being well mounted, he 
 stood a good pull for the two first miles. But, finding 
 he was dropping astern very fast, he slyly cut tlie straps 
 of his mail pillion, and so let his keg, brandy and all 
 go by the run, over his horse's rump. Captain Snipes, 
 who led the chase, found no difficulty in passing the 
 
GEN FRANCIS MARION. 161 
 
 ktfg: but his men coming up instantly, broac\:ed to, 
 ah standing ; for they could no more pass by a keg 
 of brandy, than young monkeys could pass a basket 
 of apples. 
 
 Snipes cursed and raved like a madman, but all in 
 vain : for they swore they rmist have a dram. While 
 they were devising ways and means how to get into 
 the keg, the supposed tories, now a good distance 
 ahead, came to a halt, and their captain fortunately re- 
 flecting that their pursuers might not be enemies, sent 
 back a tlag. The result was, the very joyful discovery, 
 that the owners of the keg w^ere good whigs coming 
 to join general Marion. Thus, to a moral certainty, 
 this keg of brandy was made, of kind heaven, the 
 happy means of preventing much bloodshed that day. 
 
 Having given two cases of brandy, the one good, 
 the other bad, I will now give a third, which the 
 reader, if he pleases, may call indifferent ^ and which 
 runs as follows. 
 
 General Marion, still encamped in the neighbor- 
 hood of Georgetown, ordered captain Withers to 
 take sergeant Macdonald, with four volunteers, and 
 go on the enemy's lines to see what they were doing. 
 On approaching the town, they met an old tory ; one 
 of your half-witted fellows, whom neither side re- 
 garded any more than a Jew does a pig, and there- 
 fore suffered him to stroll when and where he pleased. 
 The old man k«ew captain Withers very w^ll ; and 
 as so«n as he had got near eaough to recollect him, 
 he bawled out, "God's mercy, master Withers! why, 
 Habere are you going this course.'''' 
 
 " Going, old daddy ! why to the devil, perhaps," 
 replied Withers. 
 
 "Well faith! that's like enough, captain," said the 
 old man, " especially if you keep on this tack much 
 longer. But before you go any further, suppose you 
 take a pull with me of this," holding up a stout 
 
 14* 
 
162 THE LIFE OF 
 
 tickler of brandy, " mayhap you may not get such 
 good liquor where you are going." 
 
 " With all my heart, daddy," answered Withers, 
 and twigg'd the tickler to the tune of a deep dram : 
 and passed it on to Macdo/iald, who also twigg'd it, 
 " and Tom twigg'd it, and Dick twigg'd it, and Har- 
 ry twigg'd it, and so they all twigg'd it." In the 
 mean time the chat went round very briskly, and 
 dram after dram, the brandy, until the tickler was 
 drained to the bottom. And then tlie subtle spirit 
 of the brandy, ascending into their noddles, worked 
 such wonders, that they all began to feel themselves 
 as big as field officers. Macdonald, for his part, with 
 a face as red as a comet, reined up Selim, and draw- 
 ing his claymore, began to pitch and prance about, 
 cutting and slashing the empty air, as if he had a score 
 of enemies before him, and ever and anon, roaring 
 out — "Huzza, boys! damme, let's charge!" 
 
 " Charge, boys ! charge !" cried all the rest, rein- 
 ing up their horses, and flourishing their swords. 
 
 " Where the plague are you going to charge ?" 
 asked the old tory. 
 
 " Why, into Georgetown, right off," replied they. 
 
 " Well, you had better have a care boys, how you 
 charge there, for I'll be blamed if you do not get 
 yourselves into business pretty quick : for the town 
 is chock full of red coats." 
 
 " Red coats !" one and all they roared out, " red 
 coats! egad, that's just what we want. Charge, 
 boys! charge! huzza for the red coafs, damme!" 
 
 Then, clapping spurs to their steeds, off went these 
 six young mad-caps, huzzaing and flourishing their 
 swords, and charging at full tilt, into a British gar- 
 rison town of three hundred men ! ! 
 
 The enemy supposing that this was only our ad' 
 
 vance, and that general Klarion, with his whole force, 
 
 would presently be upon them, flew with all speed to 
 
 heir redoubt, and there lay, as snug as 0e'4s in a 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 163 
 
 sheep-skin. But all of them were not quite so lucky, ^ 
 for several were overtaken and cut down in the streets, "^ 
 among whom was a sergeant major, a stout greasy 
 fellow, who strove hard to waddle away with his 
 bacon ; but Selim was too quick for him : and Mac- \ 
 donald, with a back-handed stroke of his claymore, 
 sent his frightened ghost to join the majority. 
 
 Having thus cleared the streets, our young troop- 
 ers then called at the houses of their friends ; asked 
 the news ; and drank their grog with great unconcern. 
 
 The British, after having for some time vainly 
 looked for Marion, began to smell the trick, and in 
 great wrath sallied forth for vengeance. Our adven- 
 turers then, in turn, were fain to scamper off as fast 
 as they had made the others before, but with better 
 success ; for though hundreds of muskets were fired 
 after them, they got clear without receiving a scratch. 
 
 But nothing ever so mortified the British, as did 
 this mad frolic. " That half a dozen d-n-d young 
 rebels," they said, " should thus dash in among us in 
 open daylight, and fall to cutting and slashing the 
 Jdngh troops at this rate. And after all, to gallop 
 away without the least harm in hair or hide. 'Tis 
 high time to turn our bayonets into pitch forks, and 
 go to foddering the cows." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 History of captain Snipes — wanton destruction of liis property 
 by the tories — his own miraculous escape — admirable fidelity 
 of his negro driver Cudjo. 
 
 Captain Snipes, who made such a figure in 
 the wars of Marion, was a Carolinian, of uncommon 
 strength and courage ; both of which he exerted with 
 great good will, against the British and tories ; from 
 principle partly, and partly from revenge. But though 
 a choice soldier, he was no philosopher. He did not 
 consider that to fight for duty, people must love it ; 
 
 % 
 
\^^ 
 
 V^r THE LIFE OF 
 
 that to love it, they must understand it ; that to un- 
 derstaiid it, they must possess letters and religion : 
 that the British and tories, poor fellows ! possessing 
 neither of these, were not to have been expected to 
 act any other than the savage and thievish part they 
 did act ; and therefore, no more to be hated for it 
 than the cats are for teazing the canary birds. 
 
 13 ut captain Snipes had no turn for investigations 
 of this sort. Knowledge, by intuition, was all that 
 he cared for ; and having it, by instinct, that an 
 *' Englishman ought never to fight against liberty," 
 nor an " American against his own country," he 
 looked on them, to use his own phrase, as a " pack 
 of d-n-d rascals, whom it was doing God service to 
 kill wherever he could find them." 
 
 But Snipes was not the aggressor. He kept in, 
 very decently, till the enemy began to let out, as they 
 did, in plundering, burning, and hanging the poor 
 whigs ; and then, indeed, like a consuming fire, his 
 smothered hate broke forth : 
 
 " Tliat hate which hurled to PhUo's gloomy reign 
 The souls of royal slaves untimely slain." 
 
 Afraid, in fair fight, to meet that sword which had 
 so often shivered their friends, they determined to 
 take him as the Philistines did Sampson, by surprise ; 
 and having learned from their spies, that he was at 
 home, they came upon him in force about midnight. 
 His complete destruction, both of life and property, 
 was their horrid aim. Happily, his djyjwr, or black 
 overseer, overheard their approach ; and flying to his 
 master with terror-struck looks, cries out " Run ! run ! 
 massa, run ! de enemy 'pon you." 
 
 Snipes, stark naked, save his shirt, darted out as 
 swift as his legs could carry him. 
 
 " But where shall I run, Cudjo ? into the barn ?" 
 " Oh no, massa ! dey burn de barn, dat sure ting !'' 
 " Well, where shall I run then ?" 
 " Take de bush massa ! take de briai bush." 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 1^.4 
 
 Within fifty yards of the house was a clump cf 
 briers, so thick set, that one would have thought a 
 frightened cat would scarcely have squeezed herself 
 into it from the hot pursuing dogs. But what will 
 not fear enable a man to do ? Captain Snipes, big as 
 he was, slipped into it with the facility of a weasel 
 through the chinks of a chicken-coop ; but lost every 
 thread and thrumb of his shirt ; and moreover, got 
 his hide so scratched and torn by the briers, that the 
 blood trickled from him fast as gravy from a fat 
 green goose. 
 
 Scarcely had he gained his hiding-place, before the 
 Tories, with horrid oaths, burst into his house, with 
 their guns cocked, ready to shoot him. But oh! 
 death to their hopes ! he was gone : the nest was there, 
 and warm, but the bird was flown ! 
 
 Then seizing poor Cudjo by the throat, they bawl- 
 ed out : " You d — d rascal, where's your master ?" 
 
 He told them he did not know. 
 
 " You lie ! you black son of a b#tth ! you lie." 
 
 But he still asserted he knew nothing of his master. 
 
 Suspecting that he must be in some one or other 
 of his buildings, they set fire to them all ; to his 
 dwelling house, his kitchen, his stables, and even his 
 negro cabins, watching al^ the while, with their 
 muskets ready to shoot him as he ran out. From 
 their nearness to his lurking place, the heat of his 
 burning houses was so intense as to parch his skin 
 into blisters. But it was death to stir, for he would 
 certainly have been seen. 
 
 Not having made the discovery they so much wish- 
 ed, they again seized Cudjo ; and, with their cocked 
 pieces at his breast, swore if he did not instantly tell 
 them where his master was, they would put him to 
 death. 
 
 He s!>ll dec'lared he did not know where he was. 
 
 Then they clapped a halter round his neck, and told 
 
 \ 
 
166 THE LIFE OF 
 
 him to " down on his knees, and say his prayers at 
 once, for he had but two minutes to live '" 
 
 He replied, that he " did not want to say his 
 prayers 71 oz^j, for that he was no thief ^ and had always 
 been a true slave to his master.'' 
 
 This fine sentiment of the poor black was entirely 
 lost on our malignant whites ; who, throwing the end 
 of the halter over the limb of an oak, tucked him up 
 as though he had been a mad dog. He hung till he 
 was nearly dead ; when one of them called out, 
 " D — n him, cut him down, I'll be bound he'll tell us 
 now.'' Cudjo was accordingly cut down ; and, as 
 soon as a little recovered, questioned again about his 
 master. But he still declared he knew nothing of him. 
 He was then hoisted a second time ; and a second time, 
 when nearly dead, cut down and questioned as before : 
 but still asserted his ignorance. The same inhuman 
 part was acted on him a third time, but with no better 
 success ; for the brave fellow still continued faithful 
 to his master, who squatted and trembled in his place 
 of torment, his brier bush, and saw and heard all that 
 was passing. 
 
 Persuaded now that Cudjo really knew nothing of 
 his master, they gave up the shameful contest, and 
 went off, leaving him half dead on the ground, but 
 covered with glory. 
 
 It is not easy to conceive a situation more severely 
 torturing than this of captain Snipes. His house, with 
 ail his furniture, his kitchen, his barn and rice-stacks, 
 his stables, with several fine horses, and his negro 
 houses, all wrapped in flames; himself scorched and 
 blistered with the furious heat, yet not daring to stir ; 
 his retreat well known to a poor slave ; and that 
 slave alone, in the hands of an enraged banditti, with 
 their muskets at his breast, imprecating the most hor- 
 rid curses on themselves, if they did not instantly 
 murder him unless he disclosed the secret! What 
 nad he to expect of this poor slave, but that he would 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 167 
 
 sink under the dreaJful trial, and to save himself 
 would sacrifice his master. But Snipes was safe. To 
 discover his hiding-place, death stared his slave iu 
 the face, but, happily, his slave possessed for him that 
 " love which is stronger than death." 
 
 Captain Snipes and his man Cudjohad been brought 
 up from childhood together ; and the father of our 
 hero being a professor of Christianity, a Baptist 
 preacher, whose main excellence is " to teach little 
 children to love one another," had taken great pains 
 to inspire his son with love towards his little slave. 
 Nor did that love pass unrequited. For Cudjo used 
 every day to follow his young master to school, car- 
 rying his basket for him, prattling as he went; and 
 smiling, would remind him of the coming Saturday^ 
 and what fine fishing and hunting they would have that 
 day. Many a time had th-ey wrestled, and slept side 
 by side on the green ; and thence springing up again 
 with renovated strength, set out in full march for some 
 favorite fruit tree, or some cooling pond, there to 
 swim and gambol in the refreshing Hood. And when 
 the time of dinner came, Cudjo was not scornfully 
 left to sigh and to gnaw his nails alone, but would 
 play and sing about the door till his young master 
 was done, and then he was sure to receive a good 
 plate full for himself. Love, thus early ingrafted on 
 his heart, grew up with daily increasing strength to 
 manhood ; when Snipes, by the death of his father, 
 became master of the estate, made Cudjo his driver 
 or overseer, and thus rivetted on his honest bosom 
 that sacred friendship which, as we have seen, enabled 
 him to triumph in one of the severest trials that 
 h aman nature was ever put to. 
 
 The above is a solemn fact, and the wise will lay 
 it to heart. 
 
j.68 THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAPTERXXI. 
 
 Marion pursues major Muckleworth — fine anecdote of the 
 major-^-Marion's generosity to him. 
 
 Lkarning that a detatchnient of the British were 
 marching up Black river towards Statesburgh and 
 Camden, general Marion gave orders to chase ; which 
 was conducted, as usual, with such rapidity, that 
 about sunset of the second day we came up with them. 
 Our advance, composed of choice fellows, instantly 
 began to skirmish with the enemy, of whom they 
 killed eight or nine. A few on both sides, rather 
 badly wounded, were made prisoners. Marion, 
 coming up, gave orders to call off the troops, meaning 
 to give the enemy a serious brush in the morning. — 
 But of this gratificaiion they entirely disappointed us, 
 by striking their tents and pushing off in silence 
 before day. 
 
 Soon as light returned, and the retreat of the British 
 was announced, we renewed the pursuit ; and by late 
 breakfast-time, reached the house at which the enemy 
 had refreshed themselves. This house belonged to a 
 poor, but excellent old lady, well known to Marion. 
 
 The general was hardly alighted from his horse, 
 before the old lady had him by the hand, declaring 
 how happy she had always been to see him, " but 
 now,'' continued she, " if I an't right down sorry to 
 see you, then I'll be hanged." 
 
 JN'iarion, with a look of surprise, asked her why she 
 was sorry to see him now. 
 
 " Oh ! "don't I know you too well, general ? don't I 
 know that old Scratch himself can't keep you from 
 fighting ? And now you are hurrying along here, 
 with all your men, only to fight the British. An't it 
 so now, general ?" 
 
 Marion told her, that that was indeed his business. 
 
 " Well, dear me now! and did I not tell you so ."* 
 •But pray now, my dear general Marion, let me beg 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 169 
 
 or you, don't you do a ny harm to that dear good man, 
 that major Muckleworth, who went from here a litth^ 
 while ago: for 0! he's the sweetest-spoken, mildest- 
 iooking, noblest-spirited Englishman I ever saw in all 
 my born days. As to that Rawdon and Tarleton, 
 God's curse upon the thieves and blackguards! 1 
 would not care if you could kill a thousand of tlieiu. 
 But that good major Muckleworth! indeed, indeed 
 now general, you must not hurt a hair of his head, 
 for it would be such a crying sin." 
 
 Marion asked her in what respects was he better 
 than other British officers. 
 
 " Better than other British officers !" replied the old 
 lady. — " Lord bless your dear soul, general Marion ! 
 Well, come along, come along with me, and I'll let 
 you see." 
 
 We followed the old lady, who, tripping along 
 nimble as a girl, conducted us into a clean looking 
 cabin, wherein sat a middle-aged man very genteelly 
 dressed, and several wounded persons lying before 
 him, on pallets on the floor. Marion saluted the 
 stranger, who informed us that he was " a surgeon in 
 the service of his Britannic majesty, and left by majoi 
 Muckleworth to take care of the wounded ; of whom, 
 sir, I believe that nearly one half are your own meny 
 
 Here the old lady's face brightened up towards 
 Marion ; and giving him a very significant look, she 
 said, "Ah ha, general! didn't I tell you soV 
 
 Then diving her withered hand in her pocket, she 
 scooped up a shining parcel of English guineas, and 
 exultingly cried out, " See there, general ! see there's 
 a sight for you ? and every penny of it given me by 
 that dear good gentleman, major Muckleworth ; every 
 penny of it, sir. Yes, and if you will but believe me, 
 general, when I and my daughters were getting 
 breakfast for him and his people, if he didn't come 
 here himself with his sergeants, and had this place 
 swept out all so sweet and clean for them poor sick 
 people ; and, with his own dear hands too, helped that 
 
 15 
 
170 THE LIFE OF 
 
 grntlcninn there to dress and doctor the poor things ^ 
 that he did. 
 
 " And then besides all that, general, he was such a 
 sweet spoken gentleman ! for when I asked him how 
 his men came to be hurt so, he did not, like that beast 
 Tarleton, turn black and blue in the face, and fall to 
 cursing the d — d rebels. Oh no ! not he indeed. But 
 he said with a smile, We got them wounded last 
 night, madam, in a little brush with your brave coun- 
 tryman, general Marion. 
 
 " Now only think of that, general ! And besides, 
 when he was going away, what do you think he did? 
 Why, sir, he sent for me and said, — Well, my good 
 madam, and what shall I pay you for all the trouble 
 we have given you, and also for taking care of the 
 doctor I am going to leave with you, and the sick peo- 
 ple, who may be on your hands for a fortnight yet ? 
 
 " I told him it was no business of mine to fix a price. 
 
 " He seemed surprised, and asked me what I meant 
 by that. 
 
 '* I answ^ered that I was now all one as Ins prisoner, 
 and prisoners had nothing they could call their own. 
 
 " My king, madam, said he, docs not make war 
 against widows. 
 
 " I told him I wished to God all his countrymen had 
 I emerabered that ! it would have saved the hunger and 
 nakedness, and cries and tears of many a poor widow 
 and orphan. At this he seemed mightily hurt. 
 
 "I then told him that many of the British olficers, 
 "Iter eating and drinking all that they wanted, for 
 themselves and people, and horses, instead of turn- 
 ing round to pa )/, as he had done, had turned in to 
 plunder, and then set lire to the houses, not leaving 
 the widows and children a cover over their heads, 
 nor a bit of bread for their mouths, nor a stitch of 
 clothes for their backs. 
 
 " ?*fy God ! said he, and is this the way that my 
 countrymen have come here to carry on war! Well 
 madam, (so he went on) my king does not know any 
 
GEX. FRANCIS MAUIU.X. 171 
 
 thing of this, nor does the English nation, I am sure. 
 If they did, they would certainly call those officers to 
 account. Such men will ruin our cause. For the 
 word of God assures us, that his ear is always open 
 to the cry of the widow and orphan ; and believe me, 
 madam, I dread their cry more than I do the shouts 
 of an enemy's array. However, madam, (continued 
 he,) I have not a moment to lose, for I am sure 
 general Marion is pursuing me as hard as he can, so 
 let me know what I owe you. 
 
 " I told him again, I made no charge ; but since he 
 was so good as to insist on giving me something, I 
 begged to leave the matter entirely to himself. Upon 
 which, after a moment's study, he looked at me and 
 said, Well, madam, suppose we say sixpence 5^e;'/jn»' 
 a-piece man and horse, all around, will that do? I 
 replied that was too much, a great deal too much, for 
 such a poor breakfast as I had given him and his 
 men. JVot a penny too much, madam, said he, live and 
 let live is the royal law, madam, and here's your mo- 
 ney. With that he put all these guineas here, into 
 my hand ! and said moreover, that if the doctor and 
 sick people should be longer with rae, and give me 
 more trouble and cost than we had counted on, then I 
 must send a note to hira, at such a house in Charles- 
 ton, and he would send me the money. And now, 
 general, would it not be a burning shame to go kill 
 such a dear good gentleman as that?" 
 
 Marion listened with delight to the old lady's his- 
 tory of this amiable officer; but on her leaving him 
 to hasten our breakfast, he looked very pensive, and 
 at a loss what to do. However, as soon as the troops 
 were refreshed, he ordered my brother, colonel H. 
 Horry, who led the advance, to remount, and push 
 after the enemy with all speed. We followed close 
 m the rear. For an hour the general did not open 
 his mouth, but rode on like one absorbed in thought. 
 At length heaving a deep sigh, he said, "Well, I 
 
172 '^'iit: LIFE OF 
 
 suppose 1 feel now very much a? I should feel, weie 
 I in pursuit of a brother to kill him." 
 
 About three o'clock our advance came up with the 
 enemy, nearthe wealthy and hospitable captain John 
 Singleton's mills, where the firing instantly com- 
 menced, and was as spiritedly returned by the iiiitish, 
 still retreating. Our marksmen presently stopped one 
 of Muckleworth's captains, and several of his men, 
 who lay dead on the ground at the very spot where 
 we happened to join the advance. The sight of these 
 poor fellows lying in their blood, gave the general's 
 wavering mind the casting vote in favor nf generosi- 
 ty ; for he immediately cried out, " dtll (ff the troops ! 
 call off the troops .'" Then turning to his aid he said, 
 " I cannot stand it any longer ; we owe yon English- 
 men to our injured country ; but there is an angel 
 that guards them. Ten righteous Lots would have 
 saved Sodom. One generous Muckleworth shall save 
 this l^andful. Let us turn and fight other enemies." 
 
 The general's orders were quickly passed onto the 
 troops to cease firing. And to their credit be it 
 spoken, they never, I believe, obeyed his orders with 
 more alacrity than on this occasion. Indeed I heard 
 many of them say, afterwards, that major Muckle- 
 worth's generosity to their wounded comrades and 
 to the poor v.idow, had so won their hearts to him, 
 that they had none left wherewith to fight against 
 him ; and they said also, that, for their parts, they 
 had rather kill a thousand such savages as llawdon 
 and Tarl'^ton, than hurt a hair of major Muckle- 
 worth's nead. 
 
 From the effect produced on our troops, by this 
 amiable officer's conduct, I have often been led to 
 think favorably of a saying common with Marion, 
 viz., had the British olHcers but acted as became a 
 wise and magnanimous enemy, they might easil)' 
 have recovered the revolted colonies. 
 
 Never did the pulse of love towards a parent state 
 beat stronger in human bosoms, than in those of the 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MATaON. 173 
 
 Carolinians towards Britain. We looked on her as 
 indeed our mother, and on her children as our bro- 
 thers. And ah ! had their government but treated 
 us with correspondent kindness, Carolina would have 
 been with them to a man. Had they said to the peo- 
 ple, as they might easily have done (for there was a 
 time, and a long time too, when the whole state was 
 entirely at their feet,) had they then said to us, " We 
 are far richer, far stronger, than you ; we can easiiy 
 burn your houses, take your provisions, carry off your 
 cattle, and sweep your country v;ith the besom of 
 destruction ; but we abhor the idea. Your houses, 
 your women, your children, are all sacred in our eyes ; 
 and even of your goods we will touch nothing with- 
 out giving you a reasonable price." Had they but 
 said this, Carolina would, to a certainty, have been 
 divorced from Congress, and re-wedded to Britain. 
 
 We may lay what emphasis we please on the term 
 countrymen, countrymen! but after all, as Christ says, 
 " he is our countryman who showeth mercy unto us." 
 
 A British officer, a major Muckleworth, for exem- 
 ple, calls at my plantation, and takes ray fine horses 
 and fat beeves, my pigs, my poultry and grain ; but at 
 parting, launches out for me afistfidl of yellow boys ! 
 On the other hand, an American officer calls and 
 sweeps me of everything, and then lugs out a bundle 
 of continental prod such trash, that hardly a cow 
 would give a corn shock for a horse load of it. 
 
 The Englishman leaves me richer than he found 
 me, and abler to educate and provide for my chil- 
 dren : the American leaves me and my family half 
 ruined. Novv^ I wish to know where, in such a self- 
 ish world as this, where is there a man in a million, 
 but would take part with the generous Englishman, 
 and fight for him ' 
 
 This was the theory of Marion; and it was the 
 practice of Muckleworth, whom it certainly saved to 
 the British ; and would, if universal, have saved 
 Carolina and Georgia to them too ; and perhaps, all 
 
 13* 
 
174 THE LIFE OF 
 
 America. But so little idea had they of this mode of 
 conciliating to cunquer, that Mheti the good majo 
 Muckle worth returned to Charleston, he was hooted 
 at by the British officers, who said he might do well 
 enough for a chaplain, or a methodist preacher, for 
 what they knew, l)ut they'd be d — n — d if he were 
 fit to be a British major. 
 
 The truth is, such divine philosophy was too refined 
 for such coarse and vulgar characters, as Cornwallis, 
 Rawdon, Tarleton, Balfour, and Weymies ; monsters 
 who disgraced the brave and generous nation they 
 represented, and completely damned the cause they 
 were sent to save. But what better was to have been 
 expected of those, who, from eaily life, if tradition 
 say true, discovered a total dislike to the ennobling 
 pleasures of literature and devotion, but a boundless 
 passion for the brutalizing sports of the bear-garden 
 and cock-pit? Bull-baiters, cock-fighters, and dog 
 worriers, turned officers, had no idea of conquering 
 the Americans, but by " cutting their throats or 
 knocking out their brains ;" or as the tender hearted 
 Cornwallis commanded, by " hanging them, arid 
 taking away, or destroying their goods." 
 
 Now Satan himself could ha\e counselled my lord 
 better than that ; as any man may see, who will but 
 open his bible and turn to the book of Job, chap, the 
 1st, verse Gth, and so on. 'Vhi'te Moses injbrms, that 
 when Satan, whose effrontery is up to anything, pre- 
 sented himself at the grand levee, the Almighty very 
 civilly asked him, (now mind that, saints, in your 
 speech to poor sinners) — the Almighty, I say, very 
 civilly asked him " where he had been of late." 
 
 To this, h.is royal highness, the brimstone king, 
 replied, that he had been only taking a turn or two 
 " up and down the earth." 
 
 The divine voice again interrogated : " Hast thou 
 considered my servant Job .'' an excellent man, is he 
 not; one who fearelh God and escheweth evil?" 
 
 "Job's well enough," replied Satan, rather pertly, 
 
GEN. FKANCIS MARIOJf. 175 
 
 bui where's the wonder of all that ? You have done 
 great things for the fellow ; you have planted a hedge 
 around him, and around all that he hath on every side. 
 You liave blessed the works of his hands, and his 
 substance is increased in the land ; and if, after all 
 this, he cannot afford you a little gratitude, he must 
 be a poor devil indeed. But put forth thy hand now, 
 and touch all that he hath, and he'll curse thee to thy 
 facer 
 
 This was the devil's logic as to Job : but the British 
 general had not the wit to reason in that style towards 
 the Americans. For my Lord Cornv»'allis said unto 
 my lord Rawdon ; and my lord Rawdon said unto 
 my would-be lord, colonel Tarleton ; and colonel 
 Tarleton said unto major Weymies ; and major 
 Weymies said unto Will Cunningham, and unto iw^ 
 British soldiers with their tory negro allies ; " Put 
 forth your hands, boys, and burn, and plunder the 
 d-n-d rebels ; and instead of cursing you to your face, 
 they will fall down and kiss your feet." 
 
 "Experience," says Doctor Franklin, " is a dear 
 school ; but fools will learn in no other, and hardly 
 in that." And what right had lord North to expect 
 success in America, when for officers he sent such 
 fools as would take no lesson either from God or devil. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 11. 
 
 Colonel Watson attempts to surprise Marion — is out-generaled, 
 and atler much loss driven back to Georgetown. 
 
 In ,;Consequence of his incessant attacks on the 
 British and tories, Marion was, I believe, heartily 
 hated by them, as ever Sampson was by the Philis- 
 tines, or George Whitefield by the devil. Numerous 
 were the attempts made by their best officers to sur- 
 prise him ; but such was his own vigilance and the 
 ndelity of his whig friends, that he seldom fail<i<l to 
 
176 I'HE LIFE OF 
 
 get the first blow at them, and to take their unwary 
 feet in the same evil net which they had spread for hitp 
 His method to anticipate the meditated malice of 
 his enemies, is well worthy of notice. He always had 
 in his service a parcel of active young men, generally 
 selected from the best whig families, and of tried 
 courage and fidelity. These, mounted on the swiftest 
 horses, he would station in the neighborhood of those 
 places where the British and tories were embodied in 
 force, as Camden, Georgetown, &c. with instructions 
 to leave no stratagem untried to find out the intended 
 movements of the enemy. Instantly as this informa- 
 tion was obtained, (whether by climbing tall trees 
 that overlooked the garrisons ; or from J'/ieiids acting 
 as market people) they vs'ere to mount and push off 
 at full speed to the nearest of a c/iain of po$ts estab- 
 lihlied at short and convenient distances, with fleet 
 horses ready saddled and bridled, to bear the intelli- 
 gence witli equal ^peed, the first to the second, the 
 second to the third, and so on. In this expeditious 
 method, as by a telegraph, Marion was presently no- 
 tified of the designs of the enemy. Of the exceeding 
 importance of such a plan, we had a very striking 
 proof at this time. Exasperated against Marion, for 
 the infinite haim he did the royal cause in Carolina, 
 the British general, in Camden, determined to surprise 
 him at his old ])lace of retreat, Snow's Island ; and 
 thus destroy or break him up completely. To this end 
 he despaiched ? couple of favorite oflicers, colonels 
 Watson and Doyle, with a heavy force, both cavalry 
 and infantry, to sieze the lower bridge on Black river 
 and thereby effectually prevent our escape. But the 
 vigilance and activity of his scouts frustrated this 
 well-concerted plan entirely. Getting early notice of 
 this manoeuvre by captain, now general Canty, Ma- 
 rion instantly started his troops, composed chiefly of 
 mounted rilleujcn and light dragoons and pushed hard 
 for the same point, l^y taking a nearer cut, we had 
 the good fortune to gai'.i the bridge before the enciay 
 
liEN. FRANCIS MARION. 177 
 
 and having destroyed it as soon as we crossed, we 
 concealed ourselves in the dark swamp, anxiousJy 
 waiting their arrival. In a short time, they came in 
 full view on the opposite hill, and there encamped. — 
 Presently, unapprehensive of danger, for they saw 
 nothing of us, two of their men came down for water 
 to the river. Unable to resist such a temptation, two 
 of our noted marksmen instantly drew their sights and 
 let fly. The two Englishmen fell ; one of them was 
 killed dead ; the other badly wounded, and so fright- 
 ened, that he bellowed like a bull-calf for help. 
 Several of his gallant countrymen ran to his assistance, 
 but they were shot down as fast as they got to him. 
 
 The next morning colonel Watson sent a flag over 
 to Marion, whom he charged with carrying on war in 
 a manner entirely different from all civilized nations. 
 " Why sir," said he to Marion, "you must certainly 
 command a horde of savages, who delight in nothing 
 but murder. I can't cross a swamp or a bridge, but I 
 am waylaid and shot at as if I were a mad dos:. 
 
 -r-\ • • • 
 
 Even ray sentries are fired at and killed on their 
 posts. Why, my God, sir! this is not the way that 
 Christians ought to fight!" 
 
 To this Marion replied, that "he was sorry to be 
 obliged to say, that from what he had known of them, 
 the British officers were the last men on earth who 
 had any right to preach about honor and humiwity. 
 That for men to come three thousand miles to plun- 
 der and hang an innocent people, and then to tell that 
 people Aow they ought to Ji.ght, betrayed an ignorance 
 and impudence which he fain would hope had no par- 
 allel in the history of man. That for his part, he al- 
 ways believed, and still did believe that he should be 
 doing God and his country good service to surprise 
 and kill such men, while they continued this diaboli- 
 cal warfare, as he would the wolves and panthers of 
 the forest." 
 
 Thus ended the correspondence for that time. 
 
 While things remained in this state between the 
 
178 f'lf-^ lh'l: of 
 
 hostile ])artlcs, Macdonald, as usual, was employing 
 himself in a close and bold reconnoitre of the enemy's 
 camp. HavintT found out the situation of their sen- 
 tries, and the times of relieving them, he cliiijbed up 
 into a bushy tree, and thence, with a musket loaded 
 with pistol bullets, cracked away at their guard 
 as they passed by ; of whom he killed one man, and 
 badly wounded the lieutenant, whose name was Tor- 
 quano ; then sliding down the tree, he mounted his 
 swift-footed Selim, and made his escape. 
 
 The next mornino; colonel Watson sent another flag 
 to Marion, requesting that he would grant a passport 
 to his lieutenant Torquano, who was badly wounded, 
 and wished to be carried to Charleston. On receiving 
 the flag, which happened while I was by him, Marion 
 turned to me, and with a smile said, "\Vell, this note 
 of colonel Watson looks a little as if he were coming 
 to his senses. But who is lieutenant Torquano?" 
 
 I replied that he was a young Englishman, who had 
 been quartered in Charleston, at the house of that 
 good whig lady, Mrs. Brai.iford and her daughters, 
 whom he had treated very politely, and often pro- 
 tected from insults. 
 
 " Well," said he, " if that be lieutenant 'I'orquano, 
 he must be a very clever fellow ; and shall certainly 
 have a passport to Charleston, or even to Paradise, 
 if I had the keys of St. Peter." 
 
 On repassing Black river in haste, Macdonald had 
 left his clothes behind him at a poor woman's house, 
 where the enemy seized them. By the return of the 
 flag just mentioned, he sent word to colonel Watson, 
 that if he did not immediately send back his clothes, 
 he would kill eight of his men to pay for them. 
 
 Several of Watson's officers who were present when 
 the message was delivered, advised him by all means 
 to return his clothes, lor that they knew' him to be a 
 most desperate fellow, one who would stop at nothing 
 he &et his head upon ; witness his late daring uct of _ 
 
GEM FRANCIS MaRION. 179 
 
 climbincr Jil^e a cougar, into a tree, to kill his passing 
 enemies. Watson sent him back his wallet of clothes. 
 
 Soon after this, the enemy decamped silently lu 
 the night, and took the road towards Santee. On the 
 return of day announcing their flight, Marion order- 
 ed me to take the mounted riflemen, thirty in number, 
 with fif y horse, and pursue and harass the enemy as 
 much as possible, till he could come up with the 
 infantry. 
 
 About night I approached their encampment, and 
 halted in a neighboring swamp ; whence I continued 
 to send out small parties, frequently relieved, with 
 orders to pop away at their sentinels, and keep them 
 alarmed and under arms all night. At daybreak 
 they pushed hard for the sandpit bridge. We follow- 
 ed close in the rear, constantly tiring on them from 
 every thicket and swamp ; and often, in spite of their 
 field pieces, making false charges. Never did I see 
 a body of infantry ply their legs so briskly. The 
 rogues were constantly in a dogtrot, except when ihey 
 occasionally halted to give us a blast, which they did 
 from their whole line. But though their bullets made 
 a confounded whizzing and clatter among the branches 
 over our heads, yet thank God they did no harm, 
 save that of scratching some three or four of us. 
 
 On coming within a few miles of it, we made a 
 r<ipid push for the bridge, which we quickly rendered 
 impassable, by throwing off the plaiik and sleepers. 
 Then having posted my riflemen in the thick woods, 
 within fifty yards of the ford, under command of 
 lieutenant Scott, I drew up ray cavalry close in the 
 rear, and w-aited impatiently for the enemy, hoping 
 to give a handsome Bunker's Hill account of them. 
 
 The enemy were presently in sight, and formed in 
 close column, began to push through the fording 
 |>lace, though full waist deep. My heart now throb- 
 bed with anxiety ; looking every moment for a strearii 
 of fire to burst upon the British, spreading destructi(Mj 
 through their ranks. 
 
180 THE i.ir"E OF 
 
 But, to my infinite mortification, no liijhtnings 
 bursted forlli ; no thunders roared ; no enemy fell. 
 As, half choked with grief and rage, I looked around 
 for the cause, behold ! my brave lieutenant Scott, at 
 tlie head of the riflemen, came stooping along with 
 his gun in his hand, and the black marks of shame 
 and cowardice on his sheepish fiice. " InJ'amom 
 pnltroo?!,''^ said f, shaking my sword over his head, 
 " where is that helacomh of robbers and murderers due 
 to t/ie vengeance of your injured country V^ 
 
 He began to stammer out some apology, which I 
 quickly suppressed, by ordering him out of my sight. 
 It is worthy of remark, that his men, instead of apolo- 
 gising for him, called him a coward to his face, and 
 declared that it was he who had restrained them by 
 telling them they were flanked by the enemy, wiio 
 would assuredly cut them to pieces if they fired a shot. 
 
 As the advance of the British were thus undisturb- 
 edly passing on, a heavy firing was suddenly heard in 
 the rear. It was Marion ; who, having come up with 
 the enemy, had attacked him with great fury. The 
 British did not halt, but continued a running fight 
 through the \YOods till they gained the open lields ; 
 where, by means of their artillery, they kept us at a 
 distance. In this rencontre, Watson had liis horse kill- 
 ed under him, and left about twenty of his men dead 
 on the ground. His wounded filled several wagons. 
 
 He did not halt a moment, but pushed hard for 
 Georgetown ; and late at night encamped on the 
 plantation of Mr. Trapier, to whom he told a diead- 
 ful story about Marion and his damned rebels, who 
 would not, as he said, sleep and fight like gentlemen^ 
 but, like savages, were eternally firing and whooping 
 around him by night ; and by day, waylaying and 
 popping at him from behind every tree he went by. 
 
 As it was too late to pursue the enemy, Marion 
 encamped for the night near the field of battle, and 
 next morning marched for his old post. Snow's Island, 
 where he allowed us a few days of we" :D*ne repose 
 
GEN. TRANCIS MARION. lyj 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Patriotism of Mrs. Jenkins — colonel Watson, colonel Doyle, 
 and tlie tories, make alarming^ advances upon general Ma- 
 rion — his men begin to desert him — Horry turns orator, and 
 harangues the troops — they repeat their assurances of pa- 
 triotism and attachment to Marion — he dashes out again 
 upon tlie enemy — prospects brighten — and tlie good old cau:;e 
 begins to look up again. 
 
 It was not for the British and Marion to lie long 
 at rest in the same neighborhood. After a short 
 repose, colonel Watson, with a stout force of regulars 
 and tories, made an inroad upon Pedee ; which was 
 no sooner known in our camp, than Marion pushed 
 after him. We presently struck their trail ; and after 
 a handsome day's run, pitched our tents near the 
 house of the excellent widow Jenkins, and on the very 
 spot which the British had left in the morning. Col- 
 onel Watson, it seems, had taken his quarters that 
 night in her house ; and learning that she had three 
 sons with Marion, all active young men, he sent for 
 her after supper, and desired her to sit down and take 
 a glass of wine with him. To this request, a good 
 old lady of taste and manners could have no objec- 
 tion : so waiting upon the colonel, and taking a chair 
 which he handed her, she sat down and emptied her 
 glass to his health. He then commenced the follow- 
 ing conversation with her : 
 
 " So, madam, they tell me you have several sons 
 in general Marion's camp ; I hope it is not true." 
 
 She said it was very true, and was only sorry that 
 it was not a thousand times truer. 
 
 " A thousand times truer^ madam .'" replied he with 
 great surprise, ^^ pray what can be your meaning in 
 thatV 
 
 " Why, sir, I am only sorry that in place of three, 
 I have not three thousand soixs with general Marion." 
 
 *■'• Aye indeed! well then, madam, begging your 
 
 16 
 
X83 THE LIFE OF 
 
 pardon, 30U had better send for them immediately 
 to come in and join his majesty's troops under my 
 command : for as they are rebels now in arms against 
 their king, should they be taken they will be hung as 
 sure as ever they were born." 
 
 " \Vhy, sir," said the old lady, " you are very con- 
 siderate of my sons ; for which at any rate I thank 
 you. But, as you have begged my pardon for giving 
 me this advice, I must beg yours for not taking it. 
 My sons, sir, are of age, and must and will act for 
 themselves. And as to their being in a state o( re- 
 bellion against their king, I must take the liberty, sir, 
 to deny that.'''' 
 
 " What, madam V replied he, " not in rebellion 
 against their king? shooting at and killing his majes- 
 ty's subjects like wolves! don't you call that rebellion 
 against their king, madam ?" 
 
 " No, sir," answered she : " they are only doing 
 their duty, as God and nature commanded them, sir." 
 
 " The d — / they are, madam .'" 
 
 " Yes, sir," continued .she, " and what you and 
 every man in England would glory to do against the 
 king, were he to dare to tax you contrary to your 
 own consent and the constitution of the realm. 'Tis 
 the king, sir, who is in rebellion against my sons, and 
 not they against him. And could right ])revail 
 against might, he would as certainly lose his head, 
 as ever king Charles the First did." 
 
 Colonel Watson could hardly keep his chair under 
 the smart of this speech : but thinking it would never 
 do for a British colonel to be rude to a lady, he tilled 
 her glass, and saying, " he'd be d — n — d if she were 
 not a very plain-spoken woman at any rate," insisteu 
 she would drink a toast with him for all. 
 
 She replied she had no objection. 
 
 Then iilling the glasses round, he looked at her 
 u-ith a constrained smile, and said, " Well, m^dara. 
 here's George the Third.'''' 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 183 
 
 "With all ray heart, sir'" and turned off her 
 bumper with a good grace. 
 
 After a decent interval of sprightly conrer-sation, 
 he called on the widow for a toast ; wh3 very smartly 
 retorted, " Well, sir, here's George Washingtoyi .'" At 
 which he darkened a little, but drank it olF with an 
 officer-like politeness. 
 
 The next morning early, we left the good Mrs. 
 Jenkins ; and burning with impatience to give Wat- 
 son another race, we drove on Jehu-like. 
 
 We encamped that night almost within sight of the 
 enemy's fires : but found them too much on the alert 
 for surprise. We kept, however, a good look out, and 
 learning next morning, that a roosting party were out, 
 Marion detached my brother colonel Horry, with 
 some choice cavaliers, to attack them ; which he did 
 with such spirit, that at the first onset he killed nine, 
 and made the balance, sixteen, all prisoners. The 
 rogues were so overloaded with plunder, that for 
 their lives they could not regain their camp, though 
 in full view of it v/hen they were charged. This 
 brilliant stroke of my brother, threw the enemy's 
 camp into the utmost hurry and uproar ; and their 
 dragoons were quickly mounted, dashing out to res- 
 cue their comrades; but in vain, for ir.y brother 
 brought them all off in safety to our camp. 
 
 Our strength at this time was far inferior to that of 
 the enemy. But it soon became alarmingly reduced. 
 For learning that, besides this heavy force under 
 Watson, there was another from Camden under colo- 
 nel Doyle, and also of mounted tories from Pedee, 
 all in full march against us, our men took a panic- and 
 began to desert, and those who staid behind looked 
 very serious, and talked as if certain ruin both to 
 themselves and families would follow fiom their 
 continuing to fight in so hopeless a cause. 
 
 In answer to these desponding gentlemen, 1 re- 
 plied, that I was ashamed and grieved loo, to hear 
 them talk at that rate. 
 
184 THK LIFE OF 
 
 ^'•Our pinspech,'"' said I, " gentlemen, are to be sure 
 dark, very dark ; yet thank Ciod,the.y are not despe- 
 rate. We have often before now seen as heavy 
 clouds hanging over us ; and yet with heaven's bless- 
 ing on our arms, those clouds have been dispersed, 
 and golden days restored. And who knows but we 
 may shortly see it so again ? I am sure we have good 
 reason to expect it ; and also to hope ihat God will 
 assist us, who are only fighting to make ourselves 
 free and happy, accoriling to his own most blessed 
 will. And will it not be a most sweet cordial to your 
 spirits as long as you live, to think that, in such try- 
 ing times as these, you stood up for your country, 
 and fought and won for yourselves and children all 
 the blessings of liberty. 
 
 "And, besides," said I, "do not the tories, who 
 are more than half the authors of your misfortunes, 
 possess large estates ? And have you not arms in your 
 hands, wherewith to pay yourselves out of their ill- 
 saved treasures?" 
 
 This speech seemed to raise their spirits a good deal. 
 
 I then went to see the generel, who with his hands 
 behind him, was walking backwards and forwards in 
 front of his tent, meditating, no doubt, on the deser- 
 tion of his men ; whose numbers, from more than two 
 hundred, were now reduced to less than seventy. 
 
 " Genera] Marion," said I, " I am sorry to tell you 
 that our men are now so few ; especially since, ac- 
 cording to report, we shall soon want so many.'''' 
 
 " Why," replied he, " that is the very thing I have 
 been grieving at ; but it will signify nothing for us to 
 stand here sighing and croaking; so pray go and or- 
 der a muster of the men, that I may say a few words 
 to them belbre they all run olfand leave me." 
 
 Soon as the troops were all paraded around the 
 door of his tent, he stepped upon the truidc of a 
 fallen ))ine, and in his j)hiin but impressive manner, 
 addressed us nea;ly as ibllows: — 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 185 
 
 " Gentlemen and fellow -soldiers. 
 
 " It is not for words to express what I feel when I 
 look around upon your diminished numbers. Yester- 
 day I commanded 200 men; men whom I gloried in, 
 and who 1 fondly thought, would have followed me 
 through my dangtrs for their country. And, now, 
 when their country most needs their services, they 
 are nearly all gone ! And even those of you who re- 
 main, are, if report be true, quite out of heart; and 
 talk, that you and your families must be ruined if you 
 resist any longer ! But, my friends, if we shall be 
 ruined for bravely resisting our tyrants, what will be 
 done to us if we tamely lie down and submit to them ? 
 In that event, what can we expect but to see our own 
 eternal disgrace, and the wide-spread ruin of our 
 country ; when our bravest and best citizens shall be 
 hung up like dogs, and their property confiscated to 
 enrich those villains who deserted their country, and 
 joined her enemies; when Cornwallis, Rawdon and 
 Tarleton, after so long plundering and murdering 
 your friends, shall, in reward of such services, be set 
 over you as your governors and lord lieutenants, with 
 princely salaries out of your labors; when foreign 
 bishops and their hireling clergy shall be poured 
 upon you like hosts of cousecrated locusts, consuming 
 ♦^he tithes and fat of the land ; when British princes, 
 and nobles, and judges, shall swarm over your devo- 
 ted country, thick as eagles over a new-fallen carcass ; 
 when an insatiate king, looking on your country as 
 his plantation, and on your children as his slaves, 
 shall take away your substance, every year, for his 
 pomps and pleasures ; and to keep you under for ever, 
 shall fill your land with armies; and when those 
 armies, viewing you with malignant eyes, shall con- 
 stantly be insulting you as conquered rebels ; and 
 under pretence of discovering among you the seeds 
 of another rebellion, shall be perpetually harassing 
 and giving up to military execution the bast and 
 worthiest of your fellow-citizens t 
 
 16* 
 
186 THE LIFE OF 
 
 '' Now rii} brave brethren in arms, is there a rnan 
 among you, who can bear the thought of living to see 
 his dear country and friends in so degraded and 
 wretched a state as this? If there be, then let that 
 man leave me and retire to his home. I ask not liis 
 aid. But, thanks to God, I have now no fears about 
 you: judging by your looks, I feel that there is no 
 sich n>an among us. For my own part I look ui)()n 
 such a state of things as a thousand times worse than 
 death. And God is my judge this day, that if I 
 could die a thousand deaths, most gladly would I die 
 them all, rather than live to see my dear country in 
 such a state of degradation and wretchedness." 
 
 In reply to this speech of our honored general, we 
 told him, in brief, it was on account of his nobhi sen- 
 timents we had always so highly esteemed him; that 
 it was on account of these we had already suffered so 
 much, and were ready to suffer more ; and that rather 
 than see our country in that wretched state which he 
 had so feelingly described, and which, with him, we 
 firmly believed would be the case if the 13riti.sh were 
 to get the upper hand, we had made up our minds 
 to fight by his side to a glorious death. 
 
 I never saw such a change on the face of a h.uman 
 being, as then took place on that of Marion. His 
 eyes sparkled with pleasure, while in tiansport he 
 exclaimed — " Well, now colonel Doyle, look sharp, 
 for you shall presently feel the edge of our swords." 
 
 Soon as night came on we mounted, and took the 
 swamps of Lynche's creek, though swimming deep, 
 and after a long time spent in plunging and splashing 
 through the dark floods, we got over, at least about 
 two-thirds of us. The rest, driven down by the force 
 of the current, were cast ashore on hills and high 
 banks, which by the freshet were converted into 
 islands ; and there they continued whooping and hal- 
 JooiiiK to each other all ni<2:ht. When the welcome 
 light returned, they plunged again into tlie furious 
 stream, and though swept down a good way by the 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 187 
 
 force of the current, arrived safely on our side "here 
 we had prepared some large fires to dry their „othes 
 and musiiets, and plenty of roasted roots and itidian 
 cakes for breakfast. 
 
 As God was pleased to have it, none of us lost our 
 lives, though many did their great coats, blankets, and 
 saddles, and some few their pieces. As to myself, I 
 must needs say, I was never so near the other world 
 in ray life. For, as we were borne along down the 
 stream in the dark, my horse and I were carried un- 
 der the limb of a tree hung thick with wild vines, 
 which soon caught me by the head like Absalom, and 
 there held me fast, dangling in the furious Hood, while 
 my horse was swept from under me. I hallooed for 
 some time like a lusty fellow, without getting any an- 
 swer, which made me begin to think my chance was 
 bad. And, God forgive me for it! I could not help 
 thinking it a sad thing, that after so many fierce frays 
 and hard knocks with the British and tories, I should 
 come at last to be choked like a .blind puppy, in this 
 dirty swamp : but God be praised for his good angel, 
 who had brought me through six dangers, and now 
 took me out of the seventh. For, as I was near giv 
 ing out, a bold young fellow of the company over- 
 heard me bawling, and having the advantage of a 
 stout horse, dashed in and took me safely off. 
 
 I was afraid at first that my horse was drowned — 
 but sagaciously following the rest of the horses, he 
 made his way good, but lost my saddle, great coat, 
 and clothes. But w'hat grieved me most of all was 
 the loss of my holsters, with a pair of elegant silver 
 mounted pistols, a present from Macdonald, and 
 wdiich he had taken from a British ofhcer whom he 
 killed near Georgetown. 
 
 Soon as our firearms were dried, and ourseives and 
 horses were refreshed, we mounted and rode hard al) 
 that day, to surprise colonel Doyle. About midnighl 
 we had approached the house of a good whig, who 
 told us that Doyle had been there, but that warned by 
 
1S8 THE LIFE OF 
 
 an express from Camden, he had started in great haste, 
 and was certainly by that time far beyond our reach. 
 We were much puzzled in our minds for the mean- 
 ing of this precipitate retreat of colonel Doyle ; how- 
 ever, after one day of welcome rest and high cheer, 
 we faced about, fully determined, notwithstanding our 
 inferiority of force, once more to try our fortune with 
 colonel Watson, But in reaching the ground where 
 we had left him encamped, we got advice that he too, 
 with all his troops, were gone off, at a tangent, as 
 hard as he could drive. While we were wondering 
 what could have possessed the British to scamper 
 thus in every direction, captain Conyers, of Lee's le- 
 gion, hove in sight, with the welcome news that the 
 brave colonel Lee was at hand, coming up full tilt to 
 join us; and also that general Green, with a choice 
 detachment from the great Washington, was bending 
 towards Camden, to recover the laurels which the 
 incautious Gates had lost. These glorious tidings at 
 once explained the cause of the enemy's flight, and 
 inspired us with a joy which the reader can belter 
 conceive than I express. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Marion's motliod of managin<>' tlie militia — sends the autlior on 
 another c.\po<lition against the tories — anecdote of Mr. F. 
 Kinloch — curious dream of black Jonatha.n, and fortunate es- 
 cape of Mr. Kinlocli — the author's party surprised by the 
 British, but come olTwitli tl3'in<»' colors. 
 
 The world, perhaps, never contained a partisan 
 officer who better understood the management of 
 militia than did general ALirion. He was never for 
 dragooning a m;in into the service. " God loves a 
 cheerful giver, and so do /," said he, " a willing sol' 
 dier. T-o have him such }0u must convince him that 
 it is his. interest, for interest is every man's oole star. 
 
 • t 
 
GRX. FRANCIS MARION. Igq 
 
 Kvorj man wishes to be happy, and thereto wishes 
 a happy wife and children, a happy country and 
 friends. Convince him that all these invaluable 
 blessings cannot be had without sweet liberty^ and 
 you shall have a soldier as brave as Washington. — 
 For no man, worthy of the name, could ever yet bear 
 to see his wife, children and friends, enslaved and 
 miserable." Such was Marion's method of making 
 soldiers. And what with this, and the cruelty of the 
 British and tories, he had with him, perhaps, some 
 of as brave and desperate men as ever fought. 
 
 " Never ride a free horse to death," he used to say 
 to his officers; "push, while he is fresh, but soon as 
 he begins to lag, then lie by and feed high isyourplay." 
 
 For this {xirpose he always kept a snug hiding- 
 place in reserve for us ; which was Snow's Island, a 
 most romantic spot, and admirably fitted to our use. 
 Nature had guarded it, nearly all around, with deep 
 waters and inaccessible marshes; and the neighbor- 
 ing gentlemen were all rich, and hearty whigs, who 
 acted by us the double part of generous stewards and 
 faithful spies, so that, while there, we lived at once 
 in safety and plenty. 
 
 We had reposed ourselves but two days in the 
 pleasant wilds of Snow's Island, before Marion, learn- 
 ing that a part of the enemy were in the neighbor- 
 hood, desired me to take captain Clarke and Irwin, 
 with fifty men, and try if 1 could not bring him a 
 good account of fnem. 
 
 We encampe^^he first night on the plantation of 
 Mr. John Withei's, where hearing that Mr. F. Kin 
 loch, our member of Congress, was at a neighboring 
 house, I sent him the following note. 
 
 Honorable Sir. 
 
 If in these dangerous times you can think yourselt 
 safe among a handful of militia-men, I shall be very 
 glad to see you at our camp. As to supper, thank 
 God we can give you a trencher of fat pork and po 
 
190 'I'll I' LiFi; OF 
 
 tatoeSjb'.it for bed and furniture, Ave can promise you 
 nothiniij better than earth und sky. I shall place a 
 sentinel on the road to conduct you to, 
 Honorable Sir, your friend, 
 
 Petf.r Horry. 
 
 Mr. Kinloch, who was one of the cleverest men in 
 the world, instantly set out to come to us, but unluck- 
 ily missed our sentinel, and went several miles below 
 us to Mr. Alexander Rose's plantation, managed by 
 a inulalto driver named Jonathan. The day being 
 nearly spent, Jonathan very politely urged Mr. Kin- 
 loch to alight and spend the night there, promising him 
 a wann supper and a good bed. Mr. Kinloch accept- 
 ed Jonathan's offer very cheerfully, and after taking 
 part of a nice fowl and a cup of coffee, went to bed. 
 He had not slej)t long before Jonathan waked him up, 
 and, with great terror in his looks, told him, " he 
 was mighty 'iVaid there was harm a brewing." 
 
 "Aye, Jonathan ! why so, my good lad." 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied Jonathan, " such a dream as I 
 have had, sir! a marvellous bad dream about the 
 enemy's coming upon you to-night, sir!" 
 
 " Poh !" quoth Afr. Kinloch, turning himself over 
 for another nap : " I have dreamed nothing about it, 
 Jonathan. And I'm sure such a dream ought to have 
 come to me, and not to you : so w e'll even go to sleep 
 again, and trust to heaven." 
 
 Accordingly he fell asleep a second time ; but had 
 not long enjoyed that sweetest of opiates, before 
 Jonathan comes again, and awakes him with the old 
 story of his drccm. 
 
 " Well, Jonathan," said Mr. Kinloch, very good- 
 naturedly, " if you are determined to turn me out of 
 doors, I suppose I must go. But where can I get to 
 this time of night?" 
 
 " Why, sir," quoth Jonathan, " I'll get your horse 
 *nd go with you to the main road, sir, and from th.ere, 
 
oExN. rRA^cls mariois. 191 
 
 you can't miss your way back to the house you carne 
 t'roru this afternoon." 
 
 On Jonathan's return from the short distance he 
 had conducted Mr, Kinlock, he found the yard filled 
 with the British light horse ! 
 
 These dreams are droll things; but they some- 
 times come so well attested, that there is no doubting 
 them. He who made our frame, can certainly speak 
 to us as well asleep as awake ; and the wise will feel 
 the importance of making a friend of Him, who can 
 cause an airy dream to defend us as effectually as a 
 legion of ansrels. 
 
 The next night, just as we were about to encamp, 
 ive lighted on a negro fellow, belonging to Mr. Joseph 
 Alston, whom I quickly had by the heels, lest he 
 should give intelligence to the enemy. But, as the 
 devil would have it, just before day, the sergeant of 
 the guard, overcome by the negro's importunities, 
 loosened him and let him go. And, mark now, young 
 officers, what comes from disobeying orders. This 
 villain of a blackamoor had not gone above three 
 miles before he fell in with the British, to whom, 
 Judas-like, l:e betrayed us offhand! and they as 
 quickly took horse, and pushed on to surprise us. 
 
 By sunrise I had all my men mounted ; captain 
 Clarke leading the advance, myself and captain Irvin 
 bringing up the rest of the corps. 
 
 The British first discovered captain Clarke, which 
 they did, in the way of a glimpse, through an opening 
 in the woods; then sounding their bugles, they rush- 
 ed on to the charge. Unfortunately, Clarke had not 
 yet seen the enemy, and mistaking their bugles for 
 the huntsmen's horns, ordered a halt to see the deer 
 go by. But instead of a herd of flying deer, behold ! 
 a column of British cavalry all at once bursting into 
 the road, and shouting and rushing on with drawn 
 swords to the charge. In a moment, as if themselves 
 metamorphosed into deer, Clarke and his advaiice 
 
193 THE LIFE Oh 
 
 wheeled about, and giving their horses " the tim« 
 ber,"* flew back upon our main body, roaring out as 
 they came in sight — " The British ! the British !" 
 
 (inick as thought iny men caught the panic, aod 
 facing about, took to their heels, and went off as if the 
 d — 1 had been behind them. I bawled after them as 
 loud as I could roar, " Halt! Hdlt P'' but I might as 
 well have bawled to the whirlwinds, for it appeared 
 to me the louder I bawled, the swifter the rascals 
 flew. Whereupon I clapped spurs to my young 
 Janus, and went oIF after them at full stretch, hoping 
 to gain their front and so bring them to. Being 
 mounted on a young full-blooded charger, fresh and 
 strong from the stable, I bid fair to gain my point too, 
 for I was coming up with them hand over hand. — 
 But, in that very juncture of time, as the Lord was 
 pleased to order it, my girth gave way, my saddle 
 turned, and my charger fetching a ground start, threw 
 me, saddle, holsters, and all, full ten feet over his 
 head, and then ran oif. I received no harm, God be 
 praised for it, but recovering my legs in an instant, 
 bawled out again to my men to hall and form. 
 
 Happily for me, at the very moment of ray dis- 
 aster, the enemy, suspecting our flight to be only a 
 finesse, had halted, while only sixteen dragoons un- 
 der colonel Camp, continued the chase. 
 
 Scorning to fly from such a handful, some of my 
 more resolute fellows, thirteen in number, faced 
 about, and very deliberately taking their aim at the 
 enemy as they came up, gave them a spanker, which 
 killed upwards of half their number. The rest took 
 to flight, leaving their colonel, whose horse was slain, 
 to shift for himself, which he quickly did by running 
 into the woods. 
 
 * 'I'liis is a Carolina phrase (<)r slashing. If a husband should so far 
 forsot liiinsolf as to boat his \vi(oI which, liiank Clod, is very rare, hi« 
 neighbors, with great soorn, say of him as he pokes his hated face a'ong 
 A)C, tiiai's llic jockey thai ijivcs his wiie tiie timber. 
 
GEx\. FRANCIS MARION. X93 
 
 The British were so near us when they received 
 the fire of my raen, that one of them, a stout fellow, 
 as he wheeled to go off, came so close to me, where 
 I stood en the ground, that he was lifting his broad- 
 sword for a back-handed stroke, which would proba- 
 bly have saved me the trouble of writing this history, 
 had I not, with one of my pistols, which I took from 
 the saddle when my horse left me, anticipated his 
 kindness, by driving a bullet through his shoulder, 
 Which brought him to the ground. Then mounting 
 his horse, while my men caught the horses of those 
 that were killed, we galloped off, very well satisfied 
 that the aliair had turned out no worse. 
 
 On returning to Marion, I could not help com- 
 plaining to him of my men, whose behavior, I said, 
 in this last affair, had been so very dastardly, that I 
 was much afraid, I should never again put confidence 
 in them, nor gain any credit by commanding them. 
 " Pshaw !" said he, with a smile, " it is because you 
 do not understand the management of them : you 
 command militia ; it will not do to expect too much 
 from that sort of soldiers. If on turning out against 
 ihe enemy, you find your men in high spirits, with 
 ourning eyes all kindling around you, that's your time, 
 ihen in close columns, with sounding bugles and 
 shining swords, dash on, and I'll warrant your men 
 will follow you, eager as the lion's whelps bounding 
 with their sire to the chase of the buffaloes. But on 
 :he other hand, if by any un-looked-for providence 
 they get dismayed, and begin to run, you are no' to 
 fly in a passion with them, and show yourself as mad 
 as they are cowardly. No! you must learn to run 
 too : and as fast as they ; nay faster, that you may 
 get into the front and encourage them to rally. 
 
 " And as to the credit that you are to get by com 
 manding them, I find, my dear fellow, that you are 
 entirely in the wrong there also. Our country can- 
 not expect us to cope with British regulars. War is 
 an art, the deepest of all arts, because the greatest of 
 
 17 
 
194 THE LIFE OF 
 
 all earthly consequences depend on it. And none can 
 expect to be masters of that terrible art, but such as 
 serve a long apprenticeship to it. But as we have 
 served no apprenticeship, we can know but little 
 about it in comparison with our enemies, who in dis- 
 cipline and experience have greatly the advantage of 
 us. But, thank God, we have our advantages too. — 
 We are far better riders, better woodsmen, and bet- 
 ter marksmen than they. These are noble advan- 
 tages. Let us but improve them oy redoubled acti- 
 vity and vigilance, and kindness to our men, and 
 especially by often conversing with them on the 
 grounds of the war, the merits of our cause, and the 
 vast consequences depending. Let us, I say, in this 
 way, make them soldiers in principle, and fond of 
 their officers, and all will be well yet. By cutting off 
 the enemy's foraging parties, drawing them into am- 
 buscades and falling upon them by surprise, we shall, 
 I hope, so harass and consume them, as to make them 
 glad to get out of our country. And then, the per- 
 formance of such a noble act will bring us credit, and 
 credit enough too, in the eyes of good men ; while as 
 to ourselves, the remembrance of having done so 
 much to vindicate the rights of man, and make pos- 
 terity the happier for us, will afford us a pleasure that 
 may outlive this momentary being." 
 
SEN FRANCIS MARION. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Co'Qiie] Harry Lee joins general Mil ion — Georgetown surpris- 
 ed — colonel Campbell made prisoner — major Irwin killed — 
 adjutant Crookshanks miraculously saved by his sweetlieart — 
 force of female affection — American generosity contrasted 
 with British barbarism — interesting anecdotes of Mr. Cusac, 
 young Gales and Dinkins, colonel Lee's little bugler, John 
 Wilejs Peter Yarnal, young M'Coy, major Brown, colonel 
 Haynes, and lord Rawdon. 
 
 The next day, colonel Lee with his legion came 
 up, to the inexpressible joy of us all ; partly on ac- 
 count of his cavalry, which to be sure, was the hand- 
 somest we had ever seen ; but much more on account 
 of himself, of whom we had heard that, in deep -art 
 and undaunted courage, he was a second Marion. — 
 This, our high opinion of him, was greatly exalted by 
 his own gallant conduct, for he had been with us but 
 a few days before he proposed the surprise of George- 
 town, which was very cordially concurred with by 
 general Marion. 
 
 The infantry and cavalry employed on the occa- 
 sion, were to approach the town at different points, 
 after midnight, and at a signal from the latter, to 
 commence the attack. Unfortunately, the cavalry 
 did not get up in time, owing to some fault of their 
 guide. The infantry arrived at the appointed mo- 
 ment, and dreading the dangers of delay, charged at 
 once into the town, which they found utterly unpre- 
 pared for an attack. Colonel Campbell, the com- 
 mander, was made prisoner in his bed ; adjutant 
 Crookshanks, major Irwin, and other officers were 
 sound asleep at a tavern belonging to a genteel fami- 
 ly, with whom they had spent the evening with great 
 hilarity. A detachment of our men approached the 
 bouse and surrounded it. Soon as the alarm was 
 given, the otncers leaped out of bed, and not waiting 
 lo dress, flow into the piazza, flourishing their pistols 
 
^96 THE LIFE OF 
 
 and shouting to the charge. Major Irwin, with more 
 courage than discretion, fired a pistol, and wouhl have 
 tried another, but just as he had cocked it, he was 
 stopped short by the stroke of a bayonet, which end- 
 ed him and his courage together. Adjutant Crook- 
 shanks, acting in the same heroic style, would have 
 shared the same fate, had it not been for an angel of 
 a young w'oman, daughter of the gentleman of the 
 house. This charming girl was engaged to be mar- 
 ried to Crookshanks. VVaked by the firing and hor- 
 rid din of battle in the piazza, she was at first almost 
 'reft of her senses by the fright. But the moment she 
 heard her lover's voice, all her terrors vanished, and 
 instead of hiding herself under the bedclothes, she 
 rushed into the piazza amidst the mortal fray, with 
 no armor but her love, no covering but her flowing 
 tresses. Happily for her lover, she got to him just 
 in time to throw her arras around his neck and scream 
 out, " Oh save ! save major Crookshanks !" Thus, 
 with her own sweet body shielding him against the 
 uplifted swords of her enraged countrymen! 
 
 Crookshanks yielded himself our prisoner; but we 
 paroled him on the spot, and left him to those deli- 
 cious sentiments which he must have felt in the arms 
 of an elegant young woman, who had saved his life 
 by an effort of love sufficient to endear hor to him to 
 all eternity. 
 
 It was told us afterwards of this charming giil, 
 that as soon as we were gone, and, of course, the 
 danger past and the tumult of her bosom subsided, 
 she fell into a swoon, from which it was with diffi- 
 culty that she was recovered. Her extreme fright, on 
 being waked by the firing and horrid uproar of battle 
 in the house, and her strong sympathy in her lover's 
 danger, together with the alarm occasioned by find- 
 ing herself in his aims, were too much for her deli- 
 cafe frame. 
 
 There is a beauty in generous actions which charms 
 the souls of men! and a sweetness, which like that 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 197 
 
 immortal Lwe whence it flows, can never die. The 
 eyes of all, even the poorest soldiers in our 'camp, 
 sparkled with pleasure whenever they talked, as they 
 often did, of this charming woman, and of our gene- 
 rosity to major Crookshanks; and to this day, even 
 after a lapse of thirty years, I never think of it but 
 with pleasure ; a pleasure as exquisite, perhaps, aa 
 what I felt at the first moment of that transaction. 
 
 And it is a matter of great satisfaction to me, to 
 think how nobly different in this respect was our con* 
 duct from that of the British. I speak not of the 
 British nation, whicli I hold most magnanimous ; but 
 of their officers in Carolina, such as Cornwallis, Raw- 
 don, Tarleton, Weyraies, Brown, and Balfour, who 
 instead of treating their prisoners as we did Crook- 
 shanks, have often been known to butcher them in 
 cold blood ; though ihew fathers, mothers and children^ 
 on bended knees, with wringing hands and streaming 
 eyes, have been imploring pity for them. 
 
 There w^as Mr. Adam Cusac, of Williamsburg dis- 
 trict ; this brave man, 
 
 " This buckskin Hampden ; that, with dauntless breast, 
 " The base invaders of his rights withstood," 
 
 was surprised in his own house by major Weymies, 
 who tore him away from his shrieking wife and chil- 
 dren, marched him up to Cheraw court-house, and 
 after exposing him to the insults of a sham trial, had 
 him condemned and hung! The only charge ever 
 exhibited against him was, that he had shot across 
 Black river at one of Weymies' tory captains. 
 
 There was that gallant lad of liberty, Kit Gales, 
 with his brave companion, Sam Dinkins : these two 
 heroic youths were dogged to the house of a whig 
 friend, near the hills of Santee, where they w^ere sur- 
 prised in their beds by a party of tories, who hurried 
 them away to lord Rawdon, then on his march from 
 Charleston to Camden. Rawdon quickly had them, 
 according to his favorite phrase, " knocked into 
 irons," and marched on under guard with his ti-oops. 
 
 17* 
 
198 THE LIFE OF 
 
 On halting for breakfast, young Gales was tucked i; 
 to a tree, and choked with as little ceremony as if h« 
 had been a mad dog. He and young Dinkins had, 
 it seems, the day before, with their horses and rilles, 
 ventured alone, so near the British army, as to fire 
 several shots at them ! For such heroic daring in de- 
 fence of their country, in place of receiving applause 
 from lord Rawdon, Gales, as we have seen, received 
 his bloody death. His gallant young fiiend, Dinkins, 
 was very near drawing his rations of a like doleful 
 dish, for lord Rawdon had him mounted upon the 
 same cart with the halter round his neck, ready for 
 a launch into eternity, when the tories suggested to 
 his lordship their serious apprehensions that a terrible 
 vengeance might follow : this saved his life. 
 
 Every body has heard the mournful story of colo- 
 nel Lee's little bugler, and how he was murdered by 
 colonel Tarleton. This " poor beardless boy," as 
 Lee, in his pathetic account of that horrid transaction, 
 calls him, had been mounted on a very fleet horse ; 
 but to gratify a countryman who had brought some 
 news of the British, and was afraid of falling into 
 their hands, Lee ordered the boy to exchange his 
 horse, a moment, for that of the countryman, which 
 happened to be a miserable brute. This Lee did in 
 his simplicity, not even dreaming that any thing in 
 the shape of civilized man could think of harming 
 such a child. Scarcely had Lee left him, when he 
 was overtaken by Tarleton 's troopers, who dashed up 
 to him with looks of death, brandishing their swords 
 over his head. In vain his tender chf^cks, reminding 
 them of their own youthful brothers, sought to touch 
 their pity; in vain, with feeble voice, and as long as 
 he was able, he continued to cry for quarter. They 
 struck their cruel swords into his face and arms, 
 which they gashed with so many mortal v/ounds 
 that he died the next day. 
 
 " Is your name Wiley V said one of Tarleton's cap- 
 tains, whose name was Tuck, to Mr. John W.lfey, 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. I99 
 
 sherifTof Camden, who had lately whipped and trop' 
 ped a noted horse thief, named Smart. " Is your 
 name Wiley.'"' said captain Tuck to the young man, 
 at whose door he rode up and asked the question. — 
 "Yes, sir," replied Mr. Wiley. "Well, then, sir, 
 you are a d — n — d rascal,''^ rejoined captain Tuck, 
 fjivin": him at the same time a cruel blow over the 
 ffrehead with his broadsword. Young Wiley, though 
 doomed to die, being not yet slain, raised his naked 
 arm to screen the blow. This, though no more tnan 
 a common instinct in poor human nature in the mo- 
 ment of terror, served but to redouble the fury of 
 captain Tuck, who continued his blows at the bleed- 
 ing, staggering youth, until death kindly placed him 
 beyond the reach of human malice. 
 
 All this was done within a few hundred paces of 
 lord Cornwallis, who never punished captain Tuck. 
 
 But poor Peter Yarnall's case seems still more de- 
 plorable. This hard fated man, a simple, inoffensive 
 quaker, lived near Camden. Having urgent business 
 with a man, who, as he understood, was with general 
 Surapter, on the opposite side of the Catawba, he 
 went over to him. The man happened, at that mo- 
 ment, to be keeping guard over some tory prisoners. 
 A paper which Yatnall wanted to see was, it seems, 
 in a jacket pocket in the man's tent hard by. " Hold 
 my piece a moment, sir," said he to Yarnall, " and 
 I'll bring the paper." Yarnall, though averse, as a 
 quaker, from all killing of enemies with a gun, yet 
 saw no objection to holding one a moment. 'Ihe 
 next day, a day for ever black in the American calen- 
 dar, witnessed the surprisal of general Sumpter and 
 the release of the tory prisoners, one of whom imme- 
 diately went his way and told colonel Tarleton that 
 he had seen Peter Yarnall, the day before, keeping 
 guard over the king's friends^ prisoners to the rebels. 
 The poor man's house was quickly surrounded by the 
 British cavalry. Vain were all his own explanations, 
 bis wife's enreaties, or his children's cries. He waj 
 
200 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Oraggeo to Camden, and thurst into prison. Every 
 norning, his wife and daughter, a girl of about fifteen, 
 lode into lown in an old chair, to see him and to 
 bring mm milk and fruits, which must have been 
 highly acceptable to one crammed, in the dogdays, 
 irito a small prison, with one hundred and sixty-three 
 half-stifled wretches. On the fourth day, an amia- 
 ble young lady. Miss Charlton, living near the prison, 
 had heard of poor Yarnall's fate that morning. Soon 
 vherefore as she saw Mrs, Yarnall and her daughter 
 coming along as usual, with their little present to 
 their husband and father, she bursted into tears. 
 Mrs. Yarnall alighted at the door of the jail, and beg- 
 ged to see her husband. " Follow me," said one of 
 the guard, " and FU show you your husband.'' As 
 she turned the corner, " There he is, madam," said 
 the soldier, pointing to her husband as he hung dead 
 on abeam from the window. The daughter sunk to 
 the ground ; but her mother, as if petrified at the 
 sight, stood silent and motionless, gazing on her 
 dead husband with that wild keen eye of unutterable 
 woe, which pierces all hearts. Presently, as if braced 
 up with despair, she seemed quite recovered, and 
 calmly begged one of the soldiers to assist her to 
 take down the corpse and lay it in the bottom of the 
 chair. Then taking her seat, with her daughter sob- 
 bing by her side, and her husband dead at her feet, 
 she drove home apparently quite unmoved ; and dur- 
 ing the whole time she was preparing his coinn aa, 
 performing the funeral duties, she preserved i-» 
 same firm unaltered looks. But soon as the gravK 
 had shut its mouth on her husbai-iJ'^ and divorced 
 him for ever from her sight, the remembrance of the 
 past rushed upon her thoughts with a weight tar 
 heavy for her feeble nature to bear. Then clasj)ing 
 her hands in agony, she shrieked out, ""Poor me! 
 poor me! I have no husband, no friend now !" and 
 immediately ran raving mad, and died in (hat state. 
 There was young M'Cr y : the eye of humanity 
 
GExV. FRANCIS MARION. 201 
 
 inujit weep often, as she turns the page that tells how 
 this amiable youth was murdered. His father was 
 one of the most active of our militia captains. As 
 none better understood American rights, so none 
 more deeply resented British aggressions, than did 
 captain M'Coy. His just views and strong feel- 
 ings, were carefully instilled into his boy, who, 
 though but fifteen, shouldered his musket, and, in 
 spite of his mother's tears, followed his father to war. 
 Many a gallant Englishman received his death at their 
 hands. For, being well acquainted with the river, 
 and bravely supported by their friends, they often 
 fired upon the enemy's boats, killing their crews and 
 intercepting their provisions. This so enraged col- 
 onel Brown, the British commander at Augusta, that 
 he made several attempts to destroy captain M'Coy. 
 Once, in particular, he despatched a captain and fifty 
 men to surprise him. But M'Coy kept so good a 
 look out, that he surprised and killed the captain and 
 twenty of his men. The rest, by giving good leg 
 bail, made their escape. Young M'Coy fought by 
 the side of his father in this and many other rencon- 
 tres, in one of which he had the great good fortune 
 to save his father's life. 
 
 At the head of some gallant friends, they fell in 
 with a strong party of tories, near Brier creek, com- 
 manded by a 13ritish officer. As usual, an obstinate 
 and bloody contest ensued. The combatants quickly 
 coming to close quarters, M'Coy grappled with the 
 officer ; but not possessing strength equal to his 
 courage, he was overpowered and thrown on the 
 ground. The youth, who had just fired his piece 
 'nto the bosom of a tory, seeing his father's danger, 
 llew to his aid, and with the butt of his gun knocked 
 out the brains of the officer, at the very instant he 
 was lifting his dirk for the destruction of his father. 
 
 In a skirmish, in which his party were victorious, 
 captain M'Coy was mortally wounded, and died ex- 
 horting his son still to fight undauntedly for the liber- 
 
202 TFIP, LIFE OF 
 
 ties of liis country. After the death of his father, 
 young M'Coy joined the brave captain Clarke. In 
 an expedition against colonel Brown, Clarke was de- 
 feated, and young M'Coy made prisoner. Hearing 
 of his misfortune, his mother hastened to Augusta, 
 but arrived only in time to meet him with colonel 
 Brown and a guard, carrying him out to the gallows. 
 With gushing tears, she fell upon his neck, and bit- 
 terly mourned her lot, as wretched above all women, 
 in thus losing her husband and only son. 
 
 The behavior of young M'Coy, it is said, was 
 heroic beyond his years. Instead of melting with 
 his disconsolate mother, he exhorted her like one 
 who had acted on principle, and now felt its divine 
 consolations stronger than death. 
 
 He entreated his mother not to weep for him, nor 
 for his father. " In the course of nature, mother," 
 said he, " we were to part. Our parting indeed, is 
 early ; but it is glorious. My father was like a lion 
 in battle for his country. As a young lion, I fought 
 by his side. And often, when the battle was over, 
 did he embrace and call me his boy ! his own brave 
 boy ! and said I was worthy of you both. He has 
 just gone before, and I now follow him, leaving you 
 the joy to remember, that your son and husband have 
 attained the highest honor on earth ; the honor of 
 fighting and dying for the rights of man." 
 
 Anxious to save the life of so dear a son, poor Mrs. 
 M'Coy fell on her knees to colonel Brown, and with 
 all the wiaowed mother agonizing in her looks, plead 
 for his life. But in vain. With the dark features 
 of a soul horribly triumphant over the cries of mercy, 
 he repulsed ner suit, and ordered the executioner to 
 do /.is office ! He hung up the young man betbre the 
 eyes of his mother! and then, with savage joy, suf- 
 fered his Inciians, in her presence, to strike their 
 tomahawks into his forehead ; that forehead which 
 she had so oiten pressed to her bosom, and k'ssed 
 with ail tne transports of a doating mothe- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARIOx'-f. 203 
 
 Who, without tears, can think of the hard fate of 
 poor colonel Haynes and his family ? 
 
 Soon as the will of heaven had thrown Chadeston 
 into the hands of the British, lord Cornwallis, famed 
 for pompous proclamations, began to publish. The 
 tenor of his gasconade was, that Carolina was now, 
 to all intents and purposes, subjugated ; that the ene- 
 mies of his lord the king were all at his mercy ; and 
 that though, by the war rubrick for conquered rebels^ 
 he had a right to send fire and sword before him, with 
 blood and tears following in his course ; though he 
 had a right to feed the birds of heaven with rebei 
 carcasses, and to fatten his soldiers with their confis- 
 cated goods, yet he meant not to use that dreadful 
 right. No, indeed! Far from h'm were all such odious 
 thoughts. On the contrary he wished to be merciful : 
 and as proof of his sincerity, all that he asked of the 
 poor deludeu people of his majesty's colony of South 
 Carolina was, that they should no longer take part nor 
 lot in the contest, but continue peaceably at their homes. 
 And that, in reward thereof, they should be most 
 sacredly protected in property and person. 
 
 This proclamation was accompanied with an in- 
 strument of neutrality, as an " outward and visible 
 sign of an inward and spiritual grace," in my lord 
 Cornwallis towards the Carolinians ; and which in- 
 strument they were invited to sign, that they might 
 have a covenant right to the aforesaid promised 
 blessings o( protection, both in property and person. 
 
 The heart of colonel Haynes was with his country- 
 men, and fervently did he pray that his hands could 
 be with them too. But, these, alas ! were bound up 
 by his wife and children, whom, it is said, he loved 
 passing well. Helpless and trembling as they were, 
 how could they be deserted by him in this fearful 
 season, and given up to a brutal soldiery? And why 
 should he insure the destruction of a large estate, 
 when all opposition seemed hopeless? In short, 
 with thousands of others, he went and signed an in* 
 
204 THK LIFE OF 
 
 instrum'^nt, which promised security to his family and 
 fortune. But alas! from that fatal moment he never 
 more enjoyed peace. To hate the ministerial mea- 
 sures as he did, and yet thus tamely to have submit- 
 ted to them ; to love his country as heartily as he did, 
 and to know that she was now fighting, with her all 
 at stake, and yet thus to have deserted her! 
 
 These keen self-condemning reflections harrowed 
 every root of quiet from his soul. If he went to his 
 couch, it was only to groan, sleepless and tossing, all 
 the restless night. If he got up, it was but to sit, or 
 walk to and fro in his family, with dark and woful 
 looks, like one whom tjouble had overcome. 
 
 In the midst of these anguishing reflections, which 
 appeared to be wearing him fast to the grave, a res- 
 pite was afforded, and by a hand from which it was 
 1-east expected. Lord Cornwallis, having by his first 
 proclamation, obtained to the instrument of neutrality 
 aforesaid, the signatures of many thousands of the 
 citizens of South Carolina, then came out with a se- 
 cond proclamation, in which he nominates the paper 
 above not an instrument of neutrality, but a bond of 
 allegiance to the king, and calls upon all who had 
 signed it, to take up arms against the rebels! — threat 
 ening to treat as deserters those who refused ! 
 
 This fraud of my lord Cornwallis, excited in all 
 honest men the deepest indignation. It completely 
 revived colonel Haynes. To his unspeakable joy, he 
 now saw opened a door of honorable return to duty 
 and liappiness. And since, contrary to the most so- 
 lemn compact, he wrs compelled tofiglit^ he very na- 
 turally determined to light the British, rather than his 
 own countrymen. He fled to his countrymen, who 
 received him with joy, and gave him a command of 
 horse. He was surprised and carried to Charleston, 
 where lord Rawdon, then commandant, ordered him, 
 in his favorite phrase, to be knocked into irons. A 
 mock trial, dignified with the name of court martial, 
 was held over him, and colonel Haynes was sentenced 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 205 
 
 to be hung. Every body in Charleston, Brifons as 
 well as Americans, all heard this sentence with horror, 
 except colonel Haynes himself. On his cheek alone, 
 iul agree, it produced no change. It appeared that 
 the deed which he had done, signing that accursed 
 paper, had run him desperate. Though the larger 
 part, even of his enemies, believing that it was done 
 merely from sympathy with his wife and children, felt 
 the- generous disposition to forgive him, yet he could 
 never forgive himself. It had inflicted on his mind 
 a wound too ghastly to be healed. 
 
 To their own, and to the great honor of human 
 nature, numbers of the British and loyalists, with 
 governor Bull at their head, preferred a petition to 
 lord Rawdon in his behalf. But the petition was not 
 noticed. The ladies then came forward in his favor 
 ■with a petition, couched in the most delicate and 
 moving terms, and signed by all the principal females 
 of Charleston, tories as well as whigs. But all to 
 no purpose. It was then suggested by the friends of 
 humanity, that if the colonel's little children, for they 
 had no mother, she, poor woman ! crushed under the 
 double weight of grief and the small-pox, was just 
 sunk at rest in the grave. It was suggested, I say, 
 that if the colonel's little children, dressed in mourn- 
 ing, were to fall at the knees of lord Rawdon, he 
 would pity their motherless condition, and give to 
 their prayers their only surviving parent. They 
 were accordingly dressed in black, and introduced 
 into his presence : they fell down at his knees, and, 
 with clasped hands and tear-streaming eyes, lisped 
 their father's name, and begged his life : but in vain. 
 
 So many efforts to save him, both by friends and 
 gonerous foes, could not be made, unknown to colo- 
 nel Haynes. But he appeared perfectly indifferent 
 about the result! and when told that they had all 
 failed, he replied with the utmost unconcern — " Well, 
 thank God, lord. Rawdon cannot hurt me. He can- 
 
 18 
 
206 THE LIFE OF 
 
 not be more anxious to take my life than I am to laj 
 it down." 
 
 With his son, a youth of thirteen, who M'as per- 
 mitted to stay with hirn in the prison, colonel Haynes 
 used often to converse, in order to fortify him against 
 the sad trial that was at hand. And indeed it was 
 necessary, for seldom has a heavier load been laid on 
 a tender-hearted youth. War, like a thick cloud, had 
 darkened up the gay morning of his days: the grave 
 had just closed her mouth on a mother w^ho doated 
 on him ; and he now beheld his only parent, a be- 
 loved father, in the power of his enemies, loaded with 
 irons, and condemned to die. With cheeks wet with 
 tears, he sat continually by his father's side, and 
 looked at him with eyes so piercing and sad, as often 
 wrung tears of blood from his heart. 
 
 " Why," said he, "my son, will you thus break 
 your father's heart with unavailing sorrow ? Have I 
 not often told you, that we caine into this world but 
 to prepare for a better? For that better life, my dear 
 boy, your father is prepared. Instead then of weep- 
 ing, rejoice w'ith me, my son, that my troubles are so 
 near an end. To-morrow, I set out for immortality. 
 You will accompany me to the place of my execution ; 
 and when I am dead, take and bury me by the side 
 of your mother." 
 
 The youth here fell on his father's neck, crying, 
 '' Oh my father ! my father ! I will die with you ! 1 
 will die with you !" 
 
 Colonel Haynes would have returned the strong 
 embrace of his son ; but, alas ! his hands were loaded 
 with irons. " Live," said he, " my son, live to honor 
 God by a good life ; live to serve your country ; and 
 live to take care of your brother and little sisters!" 
 
 The next morning colonel Haynes was conducted 
 to the place of execution. His son accompanied him. 
 Soon as they came in sight of the gallows, the father 
 strengthened himself and said — " JYow, my son, show 
 yourself a man. That tree is the boundary of my life^ 
 
Pa ore 206. 
 
 Oh my father / my father .' J will die with you. 
 
 19 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION 207 
 
 und of all my lifers sorrow^;. Beyond that, the wicked 
 cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. DonH 
 lay too much to heart our separation from you ; it will 
 be but short. ' Twas but lately your dear mother died. 
 To-day I die. And you^ my son, though but youn^ 
 must shortly follow us.'''' 
 
 " Yes, my father," replied the broken-hearted youth, 
 *' I shall shortly follow you : for indeed I feel that I 
 cannot live long." And so it happened unto him. 
 For on seeing his father in the hands of the execu- 
 tioner, and then struggling in the halter, he stood like 
 one transfixed and motionless with horror. Till then 
 he had wept incessantly ; but soon as he saw that 
 sight, the fountain of his tears were staunched, and 
 he never wept more. It was thought that grief, like 
 a fever, burnt inwardly, and scorched his brain, for 
 he became indifferent to every thing around him, and 
 often wandered as one disordered in his mind. At 
 times, he took lessons from a fencing master, and 
 talked of goino; to Eng-land to fiorht the murderer of 
 his father. But he who made him had pity on him, 
 and sent death to his relief. He died insane, and in 
 his last moments often called on the name of his father, 
 in terms that brought tears from the hardest hearts. 
 
 I hope my reader will not suppose, from these odi- 
 ous truths which I have been telling him about the 
 British and tories, that I look on them as worse than 
 other men ; or that I would have him bear an eternal 
 hatred against them. No, God forbid. On the con- 
 trary, I have no doubt on my mind, that the British 
 and tories are men of the same passions with our- 
 selves. And I also as firmly believe, that, if placed 
 in their circumstances, we should have acted just as 
 they did. Upon honor this is my conviction now ; 
 but it was not always so : for I confess there w-as a 
 time, when I had my prejudices against them, and 
 prejudices, too, as strong as those of any other man, 
 let him be who he would. But thank God those pre- 
 judices, so dishonorable to the head, and so uneasy 
 
208 'i'llJ-^ LllE UK 
 
 to tlie heart, are done away from me now. And from 
 this most ha})py deliverance, I am, through the divine 
 goochiess, i)rincipally indebted to my lionored fiiend, 
 
 ^^_general Marion, of whose noble sentiments, on ihesn 
 *'■'• Subjects, I beg leave to give the reader some little 
 
 |,< specimen in the next chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Short and swoet — or, a curious dialogue between general Ma 
 riou and captain Snipes, on retahation. 
 
 " No mdiant pearls that crested fortune wears, 
 No gein that sparkling liaiifrs in liraiity's ears; 
 Not the bright stars that nigiit's lihie arch adorn, 
 Nor opening suns thai gild the vernal morn, 
 Shine with such Inslre as the tear thatflows 
 Down virtue's manly cheeks, for others' woes." 
 
 What gigantic form is that which stalks thus 
 a-wfuUy before the eyes of my memory ; his face, 
 rough and dark as the cloud of winter, and his eye- 
 balls burning like coals of fire? 'Tis the impetuous! 
 captain Snipes. He is just returned from the quarter 
 house near Charleston, where he and captain Al'Cau- 
 ley, with Macdonald and forty men, liave recently 
 surprised and cut to pieces a large party of the ene- 
 my. He looks as if the fury of the battle had not yet 
 subsided in his wrathful countenance. His steps are 
 towards Marion, and as he presents a packet, he ex- 
 claims in an angry tone, " There, sir, is a Charleston 
 paper. You'll see there how those villains are going 
 on yet. Not satisfied with all the murders they had 
 committed before, they have gone now and murder- 
 ed colonel Haynes." Here he gave the heads of that 
 disgraceful act, seasoning his speech every now and 
 then, as he went along, with sundry very bitter im- 
 precations on lord Rawdon. 
 
 " Ah shame ! shame upon him !" replied the gene- 
 ral with a sigh, and shaking his head ; " shame upon 
 lord Rawdon !" 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 209 
 
 " Shame !" answered captain Snipes, ins eyes flash- 
 
 ng fire; "shame! I hope something heavier than 
 
 shame will light upon him for it soon. The iVraeri- 
 
 can officers have sworn never again to give quarter 
 
 to the British or tories." 
 
 Mirion. God forbid that my countrymen should 
 have taken such an oath as that! 
 
 Snipes. Why, general Marion, would you have the 
 enemy go on at this rate, and we take no revenge .-* 
 
 M. Revenge ? O yes, to be sure, sir ; revenge is 
 sweet, and by all means let us have it ; but ^et it be 
 of the right kind. 
 
 S. Of the right kind, sir ! what do you call revenge 
 of the right kind ? 
 
 M. Why, sir, I am for taking that kind of revenge 
 which will make our enemies ashamed of their con- 
 duct, and abandon it for ever. 
 
 S. Ashamed of their conduct ! Jlfo?is/ers .' they are 
 not capable of shame. 
 
 M. Pshaw ! don't talk so, captain Snipes ! our ene- 
 mies, sir, are men, and just such men as we are; and 
 as capable of generous actions, if we will but show 
 them the way. 
 
 S. Well then, general Marion, how do you account 
 for that great diii'erence between us and them in 
 point of spirits ? We have never yet killed any of 
 their men, except in fair fight, that 1 have heard of; 
 but they have often murdered ours. Yes, the cow- 
 ardly rascals ! they have often done it, and that in 
 cold blood too. 
 
 M. Granted. And I am very glad that when we 
 have had them in our power, we have always treated 
 them so much more generously. But, 1 suppose the 
 reason of such barbarity on their part, is, they have 
 had, or which is the same thing, have thought they 
 had greater provocations. 
 
 »S'. They be d — n — d, they and their provocations 
 too' Are not u-e the persons who have been invaded, 
 
 18* 
 
210 THE LIFE OF 
 
 and plundered and murdered by them, and not they by 
 us ? How (hen can they have greater provocations f* 
 
 M. Why, sir, sprung originally from them, and al- 
 ways looked on by them as their children, our turning 
 now and fighting against them, must appear, in their 
 sight, a very great provocation ; as great perhaps as 
 that of children fighting against their parents. And 
 again, our shaking off what they glory in, as the uisesty 
 SLud J'reesty and happiest government on earlh, must 
 make us seem to them as no bettor than the vilest 
 traitors and rebels; which cannot otherwise than prove 
 another very great provocation. And again, after 
 having been Jirst settled in this country by them, an 
 they will have it, and afterwards, so long and liberally 
 assisted with their best blood and treasure, in hope 
 that some day or other we should be of service to 
 them ; that now, at the very time when, by our im- 
 mense population, we were just arrived to the so long 
 desired point, to swell their wealth and spread their 
 commerce and arms over the world, we should sepa- 
 rate from them, blast all their fond hopes, and throw 
 them back to the former level ; this, 1 say, you will 
 certainly allow, must be a very severe provocation. 
 Now, sir, putting all these provocations together, and 
 also taking poor human nature into the account, is it 
 to be wondered at, that the British should be so much 
 more angry, and consequently more violent than we ? 
 
 S. Why, certainly, general Marion, you have al- 
 ways a very fine knack of setting otf your arguments. 
 But still, sir, I can't see things in that light. For a 
 man, sir, to go and trump up a pack of claims against 
 me, and all of them because I can't credit him in the 
 abominable extent he wishes, to fall upon me and kill 
 and murder me, as the British and toiies have done 
 with us, and we not stop them by revenge ! why, my 
 God ! sir, it will never do. For, at this rate, whom 
 shall we have living in all this country, in a little 
 time, but the F'-itish, and their friends the tories and 
 negroes ? 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 211 
 
 M. My brave captain let me tell you again, I am 
 as anxious to stop them as you can possibly wish me 
 to be ; but I am for doing it in what I think the right 
 way. I mean the way of policy and humanity. . 
 
 S. Policy, sir! can there be policy in letting out 
 best men be murdered by these savages ! I'm sure 
 general Washington did not think so. For, though 
 I am no man of learning myself, yet I have been told 
 by those that are, that, on its being threatened by 
 general Gage to hang an American soldier, he instant- 
 ly wrote him word, that if he dared to do such a thing, 
 the life of a British soldier should pay for it. And, 
 )t is well known, that he kept the British army and 
 nation too, in a fright for three months together, with 
 the halter constantly around the neck of captain As- 
 gil, expecting every day to be hung for the murder 
 of captain Huddy. 
 
 M. True ; general Washington did act so. And it 
 was policy to act against a foreign enemy. But our 
 standing with the tories is quite a different case, and 
 requires a very different course. The tories are our 
 countrymen, a part of our own population and 
 strength, so that every man of them that is killed^ is 
 a man forever lost to ourselves. Now, since the 
 British have put them up to murder us, if we go, out 
 of revenge, to murder them again, why, in the course 
 of a little time our population will be so cut up, as tc 
 allow the British ministry, with ease, to take ou: 
 country, and make slaves of us all ; which is just 
 what lord North desires. 
 
 S. Yes, I dare say it is. But I hope he'll be dis- 
 appointed yet. 
 
 M. No doubt of it, sir ; if we shall be wise and 
 magnanimous enough to follow the true policy, which 
 is no other than huivianity to these deluded people, 
 the tories ; and to this we have every inducement 
 that generous spirits could desire. The tories and 
 ourselves are brothers ; many of .is went to the same 
 school together ; and a thousand times have ate and 
 
212 THE hlFE OF 
 
 drank in each other's houses. And as to the quarrel 
 in wliich we are now unfortunately engaged, though 
 not the most, still we are much in fault. We made no 
 allowances for those follies of theirs which led to it. 
 They thought — First, That we \vere too nearly allied 
 to England to go to war with her ; this was a weak 
 ness, but there was something amiable in it. — Se^ 
 condly, They thought the British were much too war- 
 like and powerful to be resisted by us : this was an 
 error, but it was learned in the nursery. — Thirdly, 
 They wished to keep in with the British, merely that 
 they might save their property ; this was altogether 
 fromj'ear, and therefore claimed some commiseration. 
 But no! we could not grant one grain of indulgence 
 to any of their mistakes. We would have it, they 
 all proceeded from the vilest of motives. We called 
 them traitors, and cowards, and scoundrels ; and load- 
 ed them with a thousand indignities besides. Well, 
 the consequences were, as might have been expected 
 from human weakness and passion. Wrought to des- 
 peration, and caring not what they did, tliey have 
 gone and joined our enemies, and many valuable lives 
 have been lost on both sides. Surely 'tis high time 
 now that we should set about doing something to 
 end it. 
 
 S. Well! let them set about ending it themselves. 
 They were the first to begin it. 
 
 M. But would you have the tories to lead to glory ? 
 
 S. Glory! I should think it meanness to be the 
 first to make overtures to such rascals.' 
 
 M. Weil, but, captain Snipes, when brethren, as we 
 are, fall out, is it policy to go on to exasperate and cut 
 each other's throats, until our enemy comes and takes 
 away a fine country, of which, by such madness, we 
 had rendered ourselves unworthy? Would it not be 
 much better policy to trace back all our wrong steps 
 of passion and revenge, and making hearty friends 
 again, and ioininjjour forces against the common ene- 
 my, drive him out of our country ; and then by est?.h- 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 213 
 
 lishing a free goveniraent, and encouraging agricul- 
 ture and commerce, and learning, and religion, make 
 ourselves a great and happy people again ; would not 
 this, I say, be the true policy ? 
 
 S. Why yes, I confess, general Marion, it would 
 be a noble thing, and very desirable, if it could be 
 done. But I cannot bear to think of being the first to 
 make terms with the tories, after they have been 
 burning, and plundering, and murdering our best 
 friends. It is too hard, sir, for mortal flesh and blood. 
 
 M. It is a great trial, I confess ; but "the heavier 
 the cross the brighter the crown," you know, sir. And 
 as to the difficully of the undertaking, that's the very 
 thing that should make us jump at it; the glory of 
 showintj ourselves wiser and better men than our 
 enemy. And besides, let us recollect that the glory 
 of this exploit all now lies with us : for if we do not 
 pluck up courage and do it, it will never be done. — 
 The tories are, generally, an ignorant people ; and 
 therefore not mucii of wise or good is to be expected 
 from that quarter. They 'ave also, in many instances, 
 acted a very savage par by us: their consciousness 
 of this can have no tenc. ncy to make them court re- 
 conciliation with us. Snice, then, but little is to be 
 expected from them, it seem?, incumbent on us to do 
 the more. We have better information, and we have 
 also a much better cause. These are great advantages 
 which God has given us ; and now it becomes us tti 
 improve them, to his glory and to our own honor, by 
 showing a conciliatory and magnanimous spirit to- 
 wards or enemies. And though it should cost us 
 labor to win such a victory, 7/e/, I am confident, that 
 when won, it wnll appear to us the most glorious that 
 we ever achieved. To conquer an enemy by the 
 sword, is, no doubt, honorable ; but still it is nothing 
 in comparison of conquering him by generosity. As 
 arguing both superior virtue and courage, it com- 
 mands higher admiration from the world, and is re- 
 flected on by ourselves with far more self-esteem ami 
 
214 THE LIFE OF 
 
 applause. And then, sir, only consider how such 
 conduct will gild the future scenes of life. This un- 
 fortunate quarrel betwixt us and our countrymen, the 
 tories, is not to last forever. It was only the act of 
 a wicked ministry, attempting, by an unconstitutional 
 tax to enslave an affectionate part of the nation. God 
 can never suffer such an attempt to prosper. It must 
 be but a momentary quarrel ; and we ought to ac- 
 custom ourselves to think of it as such, and to look 
 beyond it to the happy days that are to succeed. And 
 since the storm of war is soon to subside into the 
 calm of peace, let us do nothing now, that may throw 
 a cloud over the coming sunshine. Let us not even 
 talk of exterminating war! that unnatural crime which 
 M'ould harrow up oursouls with the pangs of remorse, 
 and haunt our repose with the dread of retaliation — 
 which would draw down upon our cause the curse of 
 lieaven, and make our very name the odium of all 
 generations. But, far differently, let us act the gene- 
 rous part of those who, though now at variance, are 
 yet brothers, and soon to be good friends again. And 
 then, when peace returns, we shall be in proper frame 
 to enjoy it. No poor woman that we meet will seem 
 to upbraid us for the slaughter of her husband ; no 
 naked child, for robbing him of his father ; no field 
 will cry against us for a brother's blood. On the 
 contrary . whenever the battles which we are now fight- 
 ing, sh il recur to our thoughts, with the frightened 
 enemy grounding their arms and crying for quarter, 
 we sh;.ll remember how we heard their cries and stop- 
 ped the uplifted sword. Joy will spring in our bo- 
 soms, and all around will smile with approbation. — 
 The foces of the aged will shine upon us, because we 
 spared their sons ; bright-eyed females will bless us 
 for their surviving husbands: and even the lips of 
 the children will lisp our praises. Thus with a heaven 
 of delighted feeling in our hearts, and the smiles both 
 of God and man on our heads, we shall pass the even- 
 ing of ourdavs in glorious peace. And wheii dea'.h 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MAiUu.N Sit) 
 
 shall call as to that better world, we shall obey with- 
 out reluctance. Conscious of neither dread nor hate 
 towards any of the blessed people that dwell there, 
 we shall go in strong hope of witnessing the bright 
 realities of that state, where all is immortality and 
 love. Perhaps we shall there meet many of those 
 whom it has been our sad destiny to fight with here ; 
 not in their present imperfect state, but in their state 
 of exaltation, clad in robes brighter than the stars, 
 and their faces outshining the sun in his noonday 
 splendors. Perhaps at sight of us, these glorious 
 spirits may rush with new-flushed beauties, to embrace 
 us, and in the presence of crowding angels, recount 
 our kindness to them in the days of their mortality ; 
 while all the dazzling throngs, listening delighted, 
 shall fix on us their eyes of love, inspiring those joys 
 which none but strong immortals could sustain. Are 
 not these, O my friends, hopes worth contending for ? 
 Is revenge to be cherished that would rob us of such 
 honors ? Can generosity be dear that would ensure 
 to us such so great rewards? Then let us not think 
 benevolence was enjoined in vain, which is to con- 
 duct us to such immortal felicities." 
 
 As Marion spoke these words', his countenance, 
 which in general was melancholy, caught an anima- 
 tion beyond the reader's fancy to conceive. The 
 charms of goodness, and the bright rewards which 
 await it, were painted in such living colors on his 
 face, that not even the stranger could have beheld it 
 unmoved. On me, who almost adored Marion for 
 his godlike virtues, its effects were past describing. 
 My bosom heaved with emotions unutterable, while 
 the tear of delicious admiration swelled in my eyes. 
 As to captain Snipes, he appeared equally affected. 
 His eyes were riveted on the general, and towards 
 the close of the speech his breath seemed suspended ; 
 his color went and came; and his. face reddeneci 
 and swelled ; as under the powerful eloquence of tho 
 pulpit. 
 
216 THE L[FE OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Marion and Lee attack and take fort \Vatson and fort Lee — 
 interesting anecdotes. 
 
 From Georgetown, Marion proceeded with colo- 
 nel Lee to attack the British post on Scott's lake, 
 generally called fort Watson. The situation of this 
 fort was romantic and beautiful in the extreme. — 
 Overlooking the glassy level of the lake, it stood on 
 a mighty barrow or tomb like a mount, formed of the 
 bones of Indian nations, there heaped up from time 
 immemorial, and covered with earth and herbage. — 
 Finding that the fort mounted no artillery, Marion 
 resolved to make his appioaches in a way that 
 should give his riOemen a fair chance against their 
 musqueteers. For this purpose, large quantities of 
 pine logs were cut, and as soon as dark came on, were 
 carried in perfect silence, within point blank shot of 
 the fort, and run up in the shape of large pens or 
 chimney-stacks, considerably higher than the enemy's 
 parapets. Great, no doubt, was the consternation of 
 the garrison next moining, to see themselves thus 
 suddenly overlooked by this strange kind of steeple, 
 pouring down upon them from its blazing top inces- 
 sant showers of rille bullets. Nor were they idle the 
 while, but returned the blaze with equal fury, pre- 
 senting to us, who lay at a distance, a very interesting 
 scene — as of two volcanoes that had suddenly broke 
 out into fiery strife, singeing the neighboring pines. 
 
 Tliough their enemy, yet I could not but pity the 
 British, when I saw tlie great disadvantage under 
 which they fought. For our rillemen, lying above 
 Ihem and firing through loopholes, were seldom 
 hurt; while the British, obliged, every time they 
 fired, to show their heads, were frequently killed. — 
 Increasing still the awkwardness of their situation, 
 their iccll, v/hich was on the outside of the fort, was 
 ^0 entirely in the reach of our riiles, that they couiJ 
 
GEN. FRAjSCIS MARIOxN. 2r< 
 
 not get a pail of water for coffee or grog, w'lthou*. the 
 utmost hazard. After a gallant resistance, they sur- 
 remlered themselves prisoners of war ; one hundred 
 and twenty in number. 
 
 'I'his fort had been very judiciously fixed in a coun- 
 try exceedingly fertile, and on a lake abounding with 
 fine fish, and from its contiguity to the river Santee, 
 forming an admirable deposite for their upland posts. 
 From their military storehouse, which was on the 
 outside of the fort, the British attempted, at the com- 
 mencement of our attack, to get out their goods, and 
 to roll them up into the fort. But in this exposed 
 state, their men were picked ofTso fast by our sharp- 
 shooters, that they were soon obliged to quit such 
 hot work. 
 
 The sight of their casks and bales, rolled out and 
 shining so richly on the side of the hill, set the fingers 
 of our raojg;ed militia-men on such an itch, that there 
 v/as no resisting it. And presently a squad of three 
 of them were seen pushing out, without leave or li- 
 cense, to attack a large hogshead, that lay very invit- 
 ingly on the outside of the rest. The enemy seeing 
 the approach of our buccaneers, reserved their fire 
 until they had got pretty near up to the intended 
 prize ; then all at once cut loose upon them with a 
 thundering clap, which killed one, crippled a second, 
 and so frightened the third, that he forgot the cask, 
 and turning tail, thought of nothing but to save his 
 bacon ! which he did by such extraordinary running 
 and jumping, as threw us all into a most immoderate 
 laugh. 
 
 Presently up comes my black waiter, Billy, with a 
 broad grin on his face, and says, " Why, master, them 
 militia men there, sir, are tarnal fools : they do not 
 know nothing at all about stealing. But if you will 
 please, sir, to let me try my hand, I can fetch oflfthat 
 hogshead there, mighty easy, sir." 
 
 " No, no, Billy!" said I, shaking my head, "that 
 
 19 
 
2]S 'I'HK LIFE OF 
 
 will never do, my lad. I value you much too highly, 
 Billy, to let you be knocked on the head, so foolish- 
 ly as all that comes to." 
 
 " Lord bless you, sir," replied he, smiling, " there 
 is no more danger in it, than in eating when a body is 
 hungry. And if you will only please let me try ray 
 hand, sir, if you see any danger, why then, master, 
 you may call me back, you know, sir," 
 
 U})on this he started. Fortunately for him, our 
 riflemen, seeing what he was after, made a noble di- 
 version in his favor, by throwing a galling fire into 
 the fort. On getting within thirty yards of the hogs- 
 head, he fell flat on his face, and dragged himself along 
 on his belly until he reached it. Then seizing the 
 hogshead with a hand on each chine he worked it back- 
 wards and backwards, like an alligator pulling a dog 
 into the river, until he had fairly rolled his prize to 
 the brink of the hill, where, giving it a sudden Jerk by 
 way of a start, and at the same time jumping up, he 
 ran wath all his might down the precepice, the hogs- 
 head hard after him, and was soon out of all danger. 
 Numbers of shot were fired at him, but not one 
 touched him, which gave great joy to our encamp- 
 ment, who were all anxious spectators of the trans- 
 action, and seemed to take a deep interest in Billy's 
 success. And no wonder ; for he was a most noble- 
 hearted fellow, and exceedingly useful in camp. Offi- 
 cers or soldiers, cadets or colonels, no matter whi, 
 they were, that asked Billy a favor, they were sure 
 to have it done for them ; and with such a cheerlul 
 air, as did them more good than the service itself 
 So that I much question, whether there was h man in 
 all our camp, whose good luck would have given 
 more general satisfaction than his. 
 
 On opening Bill's hogshead, which indeeci was no 
 hogshead, but rather a puncheon, as big as t\/o hogs- 
 heads, there was a prodigious stare among oui ra.^n 
 at the si^ht of so much wealth. 
 
GEJN. FRANCIS MARION. 219 
 
 100 strong white shirts for soldiers, 
 50 fine do. do. for officers, 
 50 camp biankets, 
 
 100 black stocks, 
 
 100 knapsacks, and 
 6 dragoons cloaks, 
 were the valuable contents of Billy's cask. The na- 
 tive genius of the poor fellow instantly broke out in 
 a stream of generous actions, which never stopped, 
 until the hogshead was completely emptied. First of 
 all, he began with me, to whom he presented half a 
 dozen of the fine shirts and black stocks, with a dra- 
 goon's cloak. Then to the general he made a present, 
 also to the officers of his family. To his fellow-ser. 
 vants, who messed with him, he gave two shirts 
 a-piece. t it what pleased me most in Billy's dona- 
 tions, was I s generosity to the two men who had 
 miscarried in their attempt on the same cask. Seeing 
 that they were much mortified at their own failure, 
 and a little perhaps at his success, he desired them to 
 come and help themselves to what they liked. Hear- 
 ing him then express a wish that he knew what to do 
 with the balance, I told him that many of our dragoons 
 were poor men, and much in want of shirts. " • 'j/e, 
 sure enough,^'' said he, and immediately hand id itiem 
 out a shirt a-piece, until all were gone. 
 
 For this generosity of Billy's, general Marion dub- 
 bed him '■^captain Billy," a name which he went by 
 ever afterwards. Nothing was ever more seasonable 
 than this supply, purchased by Billy's valor ; for be- 
 fore that, we were all as ragged as young rooks. 
 There was not an officer in camp, except colonel Lee 
 and his staff, who was so rich as to own two shirts. 
 I am very sure that Marion's aids had but one 
 a-piece. And yet so independent of wealth is cheer- 
 fulness, that I have often seen our officers in their 
 naked buffs, near a branch, singing and dancing 
 around their shirts, which they had just washed, and 
 hung on the bushes to dry. 
 
220 'J'Ht. LIKE 0^ 
 
 From the reduction of fort Watson, we set out iin 
 mediately in high spirits, for the still nobler attack 
 on fort Motte. For the sake of fine air, and water, 
 and handsome accommodations, the British had erect- 
 ed this fort in the yard of Mrs. Motte's elegant new 
 house, which was nearly enclosed in their works. But 
 alas! so little do poor mortals know what they are 
 about! the fine house, which they had rudely taken 
 from poor Mrs. Motte, proved to the British, what 
 his gay shirt did to hercules. It wrought their tlown- 
 fall. For, after a fierce contest, in which many valu- 
 able lives were lost on both sides, through the sharp 
 shooting of the yaugers, and the still closer cutting of 
 our riflemen, it struck Marion that he could quickly 
 drive the enemy out of the fort, by setting the house 
 on fire. But poor Mrs. Motte I a lone w dow, whose 
 plantation had been so long ravaged by the war, her- 
 self turned into a log cabin, her negroes dispersed, 
 and her stock, grain, Sec. nearly all ruined ! must she 
 now loose her elegant buildings too ? Such scruples 
 were honorable to the general ; but they showed his 
 total unacquaintedness with the excellent widow. For 
 at the first glimpse of the proj)Osition, she exclaimed, 
 " ! burn it! burn it, general Marion ! God forbid I 
 should bestow a single thought on my little concerns, 
 when the independence of my country is at stake. — 
 No sir, if it were a palace it should go." She then 
 stepped to her closet and brought out a curious bow 
 with a quiver of arrows, which a poo.- African boy 
 purchased from on board a Guineaman, had formerly 
 presented her, and said, " Here, general, here is what 
 will serve your purpose to a hair." The arrows, 
 pointed with iron, and charged with lighted combus- 
 tibles, were shot on top of the house, to which they 
 stuck, and quickly communicated the flames. The 
 British, two hundred in number, besides a good many 
 tories, instantly hung out a white flag in sign of sub 
 mission. 
 
 The excellent Mrs. Motte was present wIk^h Jici 
 
JCiV. FRANCIS MARION. 221 
 
 fine new house, supposed to be worth six thousarntl 
 dollars, took fire ; and without a sigh, beheld the red 
 spiry billows prevailing over all its grandeur. 
 
 The day after the destruction of her house, she 
 invited general Marion with all the officers, British 
 as well as American, to dine with her. Having now 
 no better place of accommodation, she entertained 
 us under a large arbor built in front of her log cabin, 
 where, with great pleasure, I observed that the same 
 lady could one day act the Spartan, and the next the 
 Parisian: thus uniting in herself, the rare qualities 
 of the heroine and the christian. For my life I could 
 not keep my eyes from her. To think what an irre- 
 parable injury these officers had done her! and yet 
 to see her, regardless of her own appetite, selecting 
 the choicest pieces of the dish, and helping them with 
 the endearing air of a sister, appeared to me one of 
 the loveliest spectacles I had ever beheld. It produced 
 the happiest effect on us all. Catching her amiable 
 spirit, we seemed to have entirely forgotten our past 
 animosities ; and Britons and Americans mingled to- 
 gether, in smiles and cheerful chat, like brothers. I 
 do not recollect a transaction in the whole war, in 
 which lean think that God looked down with higher 
 complacency than on this. And to the day of my 
 death, I shall believe, that God enabled us to beat the 
 British in arms, because we had so far beaten them 
 in generosity. Men, who under such cruel provoca- 
 tions, could display such moderation as we did, must 
 certainly have given our Maker good hope, that we 
 were equal to the glorious business of self-govern- 
 ment ; or in other words, of living under a republic, 
 which must certainly be his delight, because both 
 implying and producing more wisdom and virtue, 
 than any other government among men. 
 
 Th*^ name of the British commandant, our prisoner, 
 was Furguson ; and a very pleasant gentleman he was 
 ^00, as I found on getting acquainted with him, which 
 [ soon did. After taiking over our various adventuring 
 
 J9* 
 
222 'J'»E LIFE OF 
 
 in the war, I'e asked me if I did not command flie 
 cavalry, in the late skirmishing between Watson and 
 Marion. I told him I did. " Well," replied he, " you 
 made a very lucky escape that day : for do you know 
 that we were twelve hundred strong, owing to colonci 
 Small's joining us in the march ?" 
 
 " Then truly," said I, " if that were the case, I 
 made a lucky escape, sure enough." 
 
 "And where were you," he asked again, " when 
 general Marion so completely surprised our guard at 
 Nelson's old fields : were you there ?" 
 
 I told him I was not, but that my brother, Hugh 
 Horry, was. 
 
 "Well," continued he, laughing heartily, " tiiat was 
 my lucky day. I had a command there that morning 
 of about thirty men, as an advance. We had not letl 
 the guard more than five minutes before the Ameri- 
 cans charged and swept all. The moment we heard 
 the firing and the cries of our people, we squalled in 
 the high grass like so many rabbits, then running on 
 the stoop, till we gained the woods, we cleared our- 
 selves." I laughed, and asked how many men he 
 supposed Marion had that morning." 
 
 He replied, he really did not know, but supposed 
 he must have had three or four hundred. 
 
 " W^ell, sir," said I, " he had exactly thirty." 
 The reader may perhaps conceive Ferguson's 
 astonishment: I cannot describe it. 
 
 Soon as the dishes were removed, we were present- 
 ed with a spectacle to which our eyes had long been 
 strangers, a brave parade of excellent wine: several 
 hampers of which had been received at the fort the 
 very day before we commenced the attack. To poor 
 soldiers like us, who, for years, had hardly quenched 
 our thirst on any thing better than water or apple 
 brandy grog, this was a sight immensely refreshing. 
 Whether it was owing to the virtues of this noble cor- 
 dial, with the recollection of our late glorious victo- 
 ries ; or whether it was the happyresult of our gene 
 
GEiN. FRANCIS MARION. J;93 
 
 rosity to the enemy, and of their correspoKJent 
 [)oliteness to us, I do not know ; but certain it is, n'e 
 were all very gay. But in the midst of our enjoy- 
 ments, which none seemed to relish with a higher 
 glee than general Marion, a British soldier came up 
 and whispered to one of their officers, who instantly 
 coming round to the general, told him in alow voice, 
 that the Americans were hanging the tones who had 
 been taken in the fort ! 
 
 In a moment he sprang up, in a violent passion, and 
 snatching his sword, ran down towards our encamp- 
 ment. We all followed him, though without knowing 
 the cause. On turning the corner of the garden which 
 had concealed their cruel deeds, we discovered a sight 
 most shocking to humanity, a poor man hanging in the 
 air to the beam of a gate, and struggling hard in the 
 agonies of death. " Cut him down ! cut him down I" 
 cried the general, as soon as he had got near enough 
 to be heard, which was instantly done. Then running 
 up, with cheeks as red as fire coals, and half choked 
 with rage, he bawled out, " In the name of God ! what 
 are you about, what are you about here !" 
 
 " Only hanging a few tories, sir," replied captain 
 Harrison of Lee's legion. 
 
 " Who gave you a right, sir, to touch the tories?" 
 
 To this, young M'Corde, of the same corps, replied, 
 that it was only three or Jour rascals of them that 
 they meant to hang ; and that they had not supposed 
 the general would mind that. 
 
 " What! not mind murdering the prisoners. Why, 
 my God ! what do you take me to be ? do you take 
 me for a devil ?" 
 
 Then, after placing a guard over the tories, and 
 vowing to make an example of the first man who 
 should dare to offer them violence, he returned with 
 the company to Mrs. Motte's table. 
 
 Of the three unfortunate tories that were hung deady 
 one was named Hugh Mizcally. The name of the per 
 80P so timely cut down was Levi Smith, a most furi- 
 
224 '^liE LIFE OF 
 
 oustory. This title produced him such respect among 
 those degenerate Britons, that they appointed him 
 gatekeeper of Charleston, a circumstance that ope- 
 rated much against the poor whigs in the country, 
 For Smith soon broke up a pious kind of fraud, which 
 the wives and daughters of the tories had for some 
 time carried on at a bold rate. 
 
 To the immortal honor of the ladies of South Ca- 
 rolina, they were much more whiggishly given than 
 the men ; insomuch that though married to tories, 
 they would be whigs still. 
 
 These fair ladies, in consequence of their relation 
 to the tories, could, at pleasure, pass into Charleston ; 
 which they never left \vithout bringing off quantities 
 of broad cloth cut and jumped into petticoots, and art- 
 fully hid under their gowns. The broad cloth, thus 
 brought off, v.'as for regimentals for our ofhcers. — 
 Things went on swimmingly in this way for a long 
 time, till Smith, getting one day more groggy and 
 impudent than \isual, swore that some young women 
 who were going out at the gate, looked much bigger 
 over the hips than they had need, and insisted on a 
 search. The truth is, these fair patriots, preparing 
 for a great wedding in the country, had thus spoiled 
 their shape, and brought themselves to all this dis- 
 grace by their over greediness for finery. But Mr 
 tory Smith affected to be so enraged by this trick, 
 which the girls had attempted to play on him, that he 
 would never afterwards suffer a woman to pass with- 
 out first pulling up her clothes. 
 
 He carried his zeal to such length, as one day very 
 grossly to insult a genteel old lady, a Mrs. M'Corde. 
 
 Her son, who was a dragoon in Lee's legion, swore 
 vengeance against Smith, and would, as we have seen 
 have taken his life, had not Gen. Marion interposed. 
 
 In the Charleston papers of that day, 1781, Smith 
 gives the history of his escape from Marion, wherein 
 he relates an anecdote, which, if it be true, and 1 .jho 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 225 
 
 ao reason to doubt it, shows clear enough that his 
 toryism cost him dear. 
 
 In his confinement at Motte's house, he was exces- 
 sively uneasy. Well knowing that the whigs owed 
 him no good will, and fearing that the next time they 
 got a haltar round his neck, he might find no Marion 
 to take his part, he determined if possible to run of!'. 
 The tories were all handcuffed two and two, and con- 
 fined together under a sentinel, in what was called a 
 bull-pen, made of pine trees, cut down so judgmati 
 cally as to form, by their fall, a pen or enclosure. li 
 was Smith's fortune to have for his yoke-fellow a poor 
 sickly creature of a tory, who, though hardly able to 
 go high-low, was prevailed on to desert with him. 
 They had not travelled far into the woods, before his 
 sick companion, quite overcome with fatigue, declared 
 he could go no farther, and presently fell down in a 
 swoon. Confined by the handcuflfs. Smith was obliged 
 to lie by him in the woods, two days and nights, 
 without meat or drink ! and his comrade frequently 
 in convulsions! On the third day he died. Unable 
 to bear it any longer, Smith drew his knife and se- 
 parated himself from the dead man, by cutting off 
 his arm at the elbow, which he bore with him to 
 Charleston. 
 
 The British heartily congratulated his return, and 
 restored him to his ancient honor of sitting, Morde- 
 cai-like, at the king's gate, where, it is said, he be- 
 haved very decently ever afterwards. 
 
 Smith's friends say of him, that in his own countiy 
 (South Carolina) he hardly possessed money enough 
 to buy a pig, but v^hen he got to England, after the 
 war, he made out as if the rebels had robbed him of 
 as many flocks and herds as the wild Arabs did Job. 
 The British government, remarkable for generosity 
 to their friends in distress, g ive him money enough 
 to return to South Carolina with a pretty assortment 
 of merchandise. And he is now, I am told, as weal 
 
•226 THE LIFE OF 
 
 thy as a Jew, and, which is still more to his credit 
 as courteous as a christian. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVITI. 
 
 The author congratulates his dear country on her late glorious 
 victories — recapitulates British cruelties, drawing after them, 
 judicially, a succession of terrible overthrows. 
 
 Happy Carolina ! I exclaimed, as our late victo- 
 ries passed over my delighted thoughts ; happy Caro- 
 lina ! dear native country, hail ! long and dismal has 
 been the night of thy affliction : but now rise and 
 sing, for thy " light is breaking forth, and the dawn 
 of thy redemption is brightening around." 
 
 For opposing the curses of slavery, thy noblest citi- 
 zens have been branded as rebels, and treated with a 
 barbarity unknown amongst civilized nations. They 
 have been taken from their beds and weeping fami- 
 lies, and transported, to pine and die in a land of 
 strangers. 
 
 They have been crowded into midsummer jails 
 and dungeons * there, unpitied, to perish amidst suf- 
 focation and stench ; while their wives and children, 
 in mournful groups around the walls, were asking 
 with tears for their husbands and fathers! 
 
 They have been wantonly murdered with swords 
 and bayonets,! or hung up like dogs to ignominious 
 gibbets. 
 
 *A11 Europe was filled with horror at the history of tlie one hundred 
 and twenty unfortunule Englishmen that were sutrocaled in the black 
 hole of Culeulta. Little was it thought tliat an Englisli nobleman (lord 
 Rawdon) would so soon have repealed that crime, by crowding one hun- 
 dred and sixty-fijur unfortunate Americans into a small prison in Camden, 
 in the dogdaijs. 
 
 t A Brother of that excellent man, major Linning, of Charles- 
 ion, was taken from hid plantation on Ashley river, bv on<> of 
 
GEN. FRA^!cIS MARluN. 227 
 
 They have been stirred up and exasperaceci ai^ainst 
 each other, to the most unnatural and bloody strifes. 
 " Fathers to kill their sons, and brothers to put bro- 
 thers to death /" 
 
 Such were the deeds of Cornwallis and hu officers* 
 in Carohna ! And while the churches in England were, 
 every where, resounding with prayers to Almighty 
 God, "to spare the effusion of human blood," those 
 monsters were shedding it with the most savage wan- 
 tonness ! While all the good people in Britain were 
 praying, day and night, for a speedy restoration of 
 the former happy friendship between England and 
 America, those WTctches were taking the surest steps 
 to drive all friendship from the American bosom, and 
 to kindle the flames of everlasting hatred ! 
 
 But, blessed be God, the tears of the widows and 
 orphans have prevailed against them, and the righte- 
 ous Judge oj" all the earth is rising up to make inqui- 
 sition for the innocent blood which they have shed. 
 And never was his hand more visibly displayed in 
 the casting down of the wicked, than in humbling 
 Cornwallis and his bloody crew. 
 
 At this period, 1780, the western extremities were 
 the only parts of the state that remained free. To 
 swallow these up, Cornwallis sent Col. Ferguson, a 
 favorite officer, with fourteen hundred men. Hearing 
 of the approach of the enemy, and of their horrible 
 cruelties, the hardy mountaineers rose up as one man 
 from Dan to Beersheba. They took their faithful ritles. 
 They mounted their horses, and with each his bag of 
 oats, and a scrap of victuals, they set forth to find the 
 enemy. They had no plan, no general leader. The 
 
 l\\3 enemy's galleys, and thrust down into the hold. At night the 
 oHieers began to drink and sing, and kept it up till twelve o'clock, 
 when, by way of Irolic, they had him brought, though sick, into theii 
 cabin, held a court martial over him, sentenced him to death, very de 
 hberately executed "lie sentence by stabbing him with bayonets, and 
 then threw his mangled body into the river for the sharks and crsbi 
 to devour. 
 
228 THE LIFE OF 
 
 youth of each district, gathering around their own 
 brave colonel, rushed to battle. But though seemingly 
 blind and headlong as their own mountain streams, 
 yet there was a hand unseen that guided their course 
 Tliey all met, os by chance, near the King's moun 
 tain, where the ill-fated Ferguson encamped. Theit 
 numbers counted, made three thousand. That the 
 work and victory may be seen to be of God, they 
 sent back all but one thousand chosen men. 
 
 A iho.iisanil men on inotmtains bred, 
 
 Willi rifles all so bright, 
 Wlio knew full well, in time of need, 
 
 To aim their guns aright. 
 
 At parting, the ruddy warriors shook hands with 
 their returning friends, and sent their love. " Tell 
 our fathers," said they, " that we shall think of them 
 ill the battle, and draw our sights the truer.'''' 
 
 Then led on by the brave colonels Campbell, Cleve- 
 land, Shelby, Sevier, and Williams, they ascended the 
 hill and commenced the attack. Like Sinai of old, the 
 top of the mountain was soon wrapped in smoke and 
 flames ; the leaden deaths came whizzing from all 
 quarters ; and in forty minutes Ferguson was slain, 
 and the whole of his party killed, wounded or taken. 
 
 To avenge this mortifying blow, Cornwallis des- 
 patched colonel Tarleton with thirteen hundred and 
 fifty picked troops, against Morgan, who had but 
 nine hundred men, and tffese more than half militia. 
 At the first onset, the militia fled, leaving Morgan 
 with only four hundred to contend against thirteen 
 Hundred and fifty, rushing on furiously as to certain 
 victory. What spectator of this scene must not have 
 given up all for lost, and wdth tears resigned this lit- 
 tle forlorn, to that unsparing slaughter which colonel 
 Tarleton delighted in? But, contrary to all human 
 expectation, the devoted handful stood their ground, 
 and, in a short time, killed and captured nearly the 
 whole of their proud assailants ' 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 229 
 
 Raging like a wounded tiger, Cornwallis dt.-strovs 
 all his heavy baggage, and pushes hard after Morgan, 
 rhe pursuit is urged with unimaginable fury: and 
 Cornwaliis gains so fast upon the Americans, encum- 
 bered with their prisoners, that on the evening of the 
 ninth day he came up to the banks of the Catawba, 
 just as iMorgan's rear had crossed at a deep ford. 
 Before the vvished-for morning returned, the rivei 
 w^as so swollen by a heavy rain, that Cornwallis could 
 not pass. Adoring the hand of Heaven, the Ameri-- 
 cans continued their flight. On the morning of the 
 third day, Cornwallis renewed the pursuit wdth redou- 
 bled fury, and by the ninth evening, came up to the 
 banks of the Yadkin, just as Morgan's last rilie corps 
 was about to take the ford. Presently the rain came 
 rushing down in torrents, and by the morning light 
 the furious river was impassable ! Who so blind as 
 not to acknowledge the hand of God in all this.'' 
 
 Soon as he could get over, the wrathful Cornwallis 
 renewed the pursuit ; but before he could overtake 
 them at Guildford court-house, the Americans, joined 
 by their countrymen, gave him battle, and killed one 
 third of his army. Cornwallis then, in turn, fled be- 
 fore the Americans ; and as he had outmarched them 
 before, he outran them now, and escaped safely to 
 Wilmington. With largely recruited force he re- 
 turned to Virginia, where four hundred deluded men, 
 (tories) under colonel Pyles, came forward to join 
 him. On their way theyf^l in with Col. Lee and his 
 legion. Mistaking them for Tarleton and his cavalry, 
 they wave their hats and cry out, " God save the 
 king! God save the king!" Lee encourages the mis- 
 take, until they are all intermixed with his dragoons, 
 who at a signal given, draw their swords and hew the 
 vvretehes to pieces. Only one hundred make their 
 escape. These fall in, the next day, with colonel 
 Tarleton, who, mistaking them for what he called 
 " damned rebels," oideredhis troops to charge, which 
 they did ; and regardless of their repeated cries, that 
 
 20 
 
930 THE LIFE OF 
 
 " they were the king's best friends," put most of 
 .hem to death. 
 
 Thus wonderfully did God baffle lord CornAvallis, 
 and visit a sudden and bloody destruction upon those 
 unnatural wretches, who were going forth to plunge 
 their swords into the bowels of their own country. 
 
 After this, being joined by all the British troops in 
 that quarter, he rolled on like an angry flood to Wil- 
 liamsburg and York, where God sent his servant 
 Washington, who presently captured him and his 
 fleet and army, near ten thousand strong. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 The BritiBh evacuate Charleston — great joy of the citizens — 
 patriotism of the Charleston ladies. 
 
 As when a lion that has long kept at bay the fierce 
 assaulting shepherds, receives at last his mortal wound, 
 suddenly the monster trembles under the deadly 
 stroke ; and, sadly howling, looks around with wistful 
 eye towards his native woods. Such was the shock 
 given to the British, when the sword of heaven-aided 
 justice struck down the bloody Cornwallis. With 
 him fell the hopes of the enemy throughout our state. 
 
 In Charleston, their officers were seen standing to- 
 gether in groups, shaking their heads as they talked 
 of the dreadful news. While those who had marched 
 up so boldly into the counfry, now panic-struck, were 
 every where busied in demolishing their works, blow- 
 ing up their magazines, and hurrying back to town in 
 the utmost dismay. Hard pressing upon tiie rear, 
 we followed the steps of their flight, joyfully chasing 
 them from a country which they had stained with 
 blood, and pursuing them to the very gates of Charles- 
 ton. As we approached the city, our eyes were pre- 
 sented with scenes of desolation sufficient to damp all 
 hearts, and to inspire the deepest sense of the honors 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION 231 
 
 ot war. Robbed of all animal and vegetable life, the 
 neighboring plantations seemed but as dreary ue* 
 serts, compared with what they once were, when, co- 
 vered with sportive tlocks and herds, and rice and 
 corn, they smiled witb plenteousness and joy. In the 
 fields, the eyes beheld no sign of cheerful crops, nor 
 m the woods any shape of living beast or bird, except 
 a few mournful buzzards, silently devouring the un- 
 buried flesh of some poor wretched mortals, who had 
 fallen in the late rencontres between the English and 
 Americans. Indeed, had those days continued, no flesh 
 could have been saved ; but blessed be God, who 
 shortened them, by chastising the aggressors (the 
 British) as we have seen. 
 
 On the memorable 14th of December, 1782, we en- 
 tered and took possession of our capital, after it had 
 been two years seven months and two days in the 
 hands of the enemy. The style of our entry was 
 quite novel and romantic. On condition of not being 
 molested while embarking, the British hr J ofTered to 
 leave the town unhurt. Accordingly, ai the firing of 
 a signal gun in the morning, as agreed on, they quit- 
 ted their advanced works, near the -own gate, while 
 the Americans, moving on close in the rear, follow- 
 ed them all along through the city down to the 
 water's edge, where they embarked on board their 
 three hundred ships, which, moored out in the bay in 
 the shape of an immense half moon, presented a most 
 magnificent appearance. 
 
 The morning was as lovely as pure wintry air and 
 cloudless sunbeams could render it ; but rendered far 
 lovelier still by our procession, if I may so call it, 
 which was well calculated to awaken the most plea- 
 surable feelings. In front, were the humble remains 
 of that proud army, which, one and thirty months ago, 
 captured our city, and thence, in the drunkenness of 
 victory had hurled menaces and cruelties disgraceful 
 to the British name : — And close in the rear, was 
 Qur band of patriots, bending forward with martial 
 
232 'IHE LIFR OF 
 
 music und flying colors, to play the last joyful act ih 
 (he drama of their country's deliverance ; to proclaim 
 liberty to the captive ; to recall the smile on the cheek 
 of sorrow ; and to make the heart of the widow leap 
 for joy. Numbers, who, for years, had beeji conHned 
 to a single room in their own elegant houses, could 
 now throw open their long-locked doors, and breathe 
 and walk at large in these beloved apartments, from 
 which they had been so long excluded. Numbers, 
 who, for years, had mourned their separation from 
 children, wives, and sires, were now seen rushing, 
 with trembling joy, to the long-coveted embrace. Oh ! 
 it was a day of jubilee indeed ! a day of rejoicing 
 never to be forgotten. Smiles and tears were on every 
 face. For who could remain unmoved, when they saw 
 the little children running with outsfretched arms to 
 embrace their long absent fathers ; when they saw the 
 aged trembling with years and afl'ection, clasping their 
 warrior sons, glorious in arras, and those sons, with 
 pleasure-sparkling eyes, returning the pious embrace, 
 and congratulating the deliverance of their fathers; 
 while all along the streets, as we moved in clouds of 
 joy-rolling dust, nothing was to be heard but shouts 
 of. Liberty and America for ever ; and nothing 
 was to be seen but crowds of citizens shaking hands 
 and thanking God for bringing them to see that hap- 
 py day. And to crown all, on both sides of us, as we 
 marched in shining rows, stood our beauteous coun- 
 try women, mingling their congratulations. The day 
 was precious to all, but none I believe enjoyed it so 
 highly as did the ladies of Charleston. Being, great 
 numbers of them at least, women of fortune and libe- 
 ral education, they had early discovered the deformi- 
 ty of lord North's enslaving principles, " unconditional 
 taxation,''^ which they abhorred worse than the yaws ; 
 and hating the measure, they could not but dislike the 
 men who were come to execute it. In common with 
 their sex, they were sufficiently partial to soldiers of 
 honor. But alas! they were not permitted the p!«a 
 
(JEN. FRANCIS MARION. 233 
 
 sure to contemplate the British in that prepos.sessing 
 liijht. On the contrary, compelled to view them as 
 mere fighting machines, venal wretches, who for pay 
 and plunder, had degraded the man into the brute, 
 the Briton into the buccaneer, how could they 
 otherwise than detest them .'' 
 
 Nor were the manner:?' of the British officers at all 
 calculated to remove those antipathies. Coming to 
 America, under the impression that the past genera- 
 iion were convicts, and the present rebels, they looked 
 on and treated their daughters only as pretty Creoles^ 
 whom it was doing great honor to smile on ! 
 
 But this prejudice against tlie British officers, found- 
 ed j^rsi qn their sordidness, then, secondly, fed by their 
 insolence, was, thirdly and lastly, matured by their 
 cruelty. To see the heads of their first families, 
 without even a charge of crime, dragged from their 
 beds at midnight, and packed off like slaves to St. 
 Augustine ; to see one of their most esteemed coun- 
 trymen, the amiable colonel Haynes, hung up like a 
 dog before their eyes; and to hear continually, from 
 all parts, of the horrid house-burnings and murders 
 committed by Rawdon, Tarleton, Weymies, and their 
 tory and negro allies, filled up the measure of female 
 detestation of the British officers. They scorned to 
 be seen in the same public walks with them ; would 
 not touch a glove or snuff-box from their hands ; and 
 in short, turned away from them as from the com- 
 monest felons or cut- throats. And on the other hand, 
 to be treated thus by buckskin girls , the rebel daught- 
 ers of conyic^ parents, was more than the British offi- 
 cers could put up with. The whig ladies, of course, 
 were often insulted, and that very grossly too ; and 
 not only often threatened, but actually thrown into the 
 provost or bastile. No wonder then that they were 
 highly delighted to see such rude enemies, after re- 
 peated overthrows in the country, chased back to 
 lown, and thence, covered with disgrace, embarking 
 lo leave the country for ever. No wonder that, oti 
 
 2U* 
 
234 THE LIFE OF 
 
 hearini^ of our line of march that morning, they had 
 decked themselves in their richest habits, and at the 
 fiist sound of our drums, flew to their doors, windows, 
 and balconies, to welcome our return. 
 
 Never before had they appeared half so charming. 
 Sweet are the flowers of the field at every season of 
 the year, but doubly sweet, when, after long icy win- 
 ter, they spread all their blossoms to ihe spring-tide 
 sun. Even so the daughters* of Charleston, though 
 always fair, yet never seemed so passing fair as now, 
 when after sustaining the long wintry storms of Bri- 
 tish oppression, they came forth in all their patriot 
 charms to greet the welcome beams of returning li- 
 berty. And never shall I forget the accents of those 
 lovely lips, which, from behind their waving handker- 
 chiefs, that but half concealed their angel blushes, 
 exclaiming, " God bless you, gentlemen ! God bless 
 you ! welcome ! welcome to your homes again '" 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Marion returns to his plantation — is appointed a member of llie 
 legislature — some valuable anecdotes of him — his marriag-e 
 -and retirement, 
 
 Aftf.r the retreat of the British from Carolina, 
 Marion sheathed his sword for lack of argument , and 
 went up to cultivate his little plantation in St. John's 
 parish, where he was born. But the gratitude of his 
 countrymen did not long allow him to enjoy the 
 sweets of that rural life, of which he was uncom- 
 monly fond. At the next election, he was in some 
 sort compelled to stand as a candidate for *he legisla- 
 ture, to which, by an unanimous voice, ne was sent, 
 to aid with his counsel, the operations of tliat govern- 
 ment, to whose freedom liis sword had so largely con- 
 tributed. The ft lends of humanity were all higldy 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 23f 
 
 pleased with his call to the legislature. From)iis well 
 known generosity to his enemies, during the war, they 
 fondly hoped he would do every thing in his power 
 to extinguish that horrid flame of revenge, which still 
 glowed in the bosoms of many against the tories. Nor 
 did Marion disappoint their hopes. Kis face was al- 
 ways, and undauntedly, set against every proposition 
 that savored of severity to the tories, whom he used 
 to call his " poor deluded countrymen." The '•eader 
 may form some idea of general Marion from the fol- 
 lowing anecdote, which was related to me by the 
 honorable Benjamin Huger, Esq. • 
 
 During the furious contests in South Carolina, 
 between the British and Americans, it was very com- 
 mon for men of property to play jack of both sides, 
 for the sake of saving their negroes and cattle. — 
 Among these, a pretty nemerous crew, was a wealthy 
 ovd blade, who had the advantage of one of those very 
 accommodating faces, that could shine with equal 
 lustre on his victorious visitants, whether Britons or 
 buckskins. Marion soon found him out ; and as soon 
 gave him a broad hint how heartily he despised such 
 trimming ; for at a great public meeting where the 
 old gentleman, with a smirking face, came up and 
 presented his hand, Marion turned from him without 
 deigning to receive it. Every body was surprised at 
 this conduct of the general, and some spoke of it in 
 terms of high displeasure. However, it was not long 
 before they caught the old weathercock at one of his 
 tricks, and, soon as the confiscation act was passed, 
 had him down on the black list, fondly hoping, no 
 doubt, to divide a large spoil. Marion, who was then 
 a member of the legislature, arose to speak. The aged 
 culprit, who also was present, turned pale and trem- 
 bled at the sight of Marion, giving up all for lost. — 
 But how great, how agreeable was his surprise, when 
 instead of hearing the general thundering against him 
 for judgment, he heard him imploring for mercy! 
 His accusers were, if possiJ^le, still more astonished. 
 
230 THE LIFE OF 
 
 Having coui ted on general Marion as his firmest foe, 
 Ihey were utterly mortified to find him his fastest 
 friend, and, venting their passion with great freedom, 
 taxed him with inconsistency and fickleness that but 
 illy suited with general Marion's character. 
 
 *'Itis scarcely eighteen months, sir," said they, 
 " since you treated this old rascal with the most 
 pointed and public contemj)t, on account of the very 
 crime for which we wish to punish him. And here, 
 now, instead of taking part against him, you have 
 declared in his favor, and have become his warmest 
 advocate with a legislature." 
 
 " True, gentlemen," replied Marion, " but yoi. 
 should remember that it was war then ; and there- 
 fore my duty to make a difference between the real 
 and pretended friends of my country. But it is peace 
 now, and we ought to remember the virtues of men, 
 particularly of the old and timid, rather than their 
 fullies. And we ought to remember too, that God 
 has given us the victory, for which we owe him 
 eternal gratitude. But cruelty to man is not the way 
 to show our gratitude to heaven." 
 
 Of the same complexion was his behavior in a 
 large party at governor Matthew's table, just after 
 the passage of the famous act to confiscate the estates 
 of the tories. " Come, general, give us a toast,''' said the 
 governor. The glasses were all filled, and the eyes 
 of the company fixed upon the general, who, waving 
 his bumper in the air, thus nobly called out — " Well, 
 gentlemen, Iiere''s damnation to the confiscation act^ 
 
 The following anecdote of Marion I have heard 
 from a thousand lips, and every time with that joy 
 on the countenance, which evinced the deep interest 
 which the heart takes in talking of things that are 
 honorable to our countrymen. 
 
 While Marion was a member of the legislature, a 
 petition was presented to the house for an act of am- 
 nesty of all those arbitrary measures which the A men- 
 can officers had been obliged to adopt during the war. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 237 
 
 in order to get horses, provisions, &c. for the army 
 The petition was signed by the names of all the favo- 
 rite officers of the state, and among the rest, by that of 
 our hero. Some of his friends, it seemed, had done it 
 for him, on the supposition that he needed such an 
 act as well as the rest. But Marion, who had listened 
 very attentively to the reading of the petition, on hear- 
 ing his name mentioned as one of the subscribers, in- 
 stantly arose, and insisted that his name should be 
 struck off from that paper. He said " he had no manner 
 of objection to the petition ; on the contrary, he most 
 heartily approved of it, and meant to vote for it ; for 
 well did he know, he said, that during the war, we 
 had among us a world oi ignoramuses^ who, for lack 
 of knowing their danger, did not care a fig how the 
 war went, but were sauntering about in the woods, 
 popping at the squirrels, \yhen they ought to have 
 been in the field fighting the British ; that such gen- 
 tlemen, since they did not choose to do anything for 
 their country themselves, might well afford to let their 
 cattle do something ; and as they had not shed any of 
 their blood for the public service, they might certainly 
 spare a little corn to it ; at any rate he had no notion, 
 he said, of turning over to the mercy of these pol- 
 troons, some of the choicest spirits of the nation, to 
 be prosecuted and torn to pieces by them ; but that, 
 nevertheless, he did not like to have his name to the 
 petition, for, thank God, he had no favors to ask of 
 them. And if, during the war for his country, he had 
 done any of them harm, there was Ae, and yonder 
 his property, and let them come forward, if ihey dare, 
 and demand satisfaction.'''' 
 
 And I never heard of any man who ever accused 
 him of the least injury done him during all the war. 
 
 Marion continued a member of the legislature, un 
 til orders were issued to repair and put in commission 
 Fort Johnson, to the command of which he was ap- 
 pointed, with the pay of about twenty-two hundred 
 dollars per annum. Though this salary had been 
 
238 ^"HE LIFE OF 
 
 voted him chiefly because of his losses during lh<; war, 
 yet it was not continued to him longer than two or 
 three years, when it was reduced to less than five hun- 
 dred dollars annually. Numbers of people had their 
 feelings greatly hurt on this occasion, and, I dare say, 
 much worse than his own. P^or he was a man who 
 cared very little for money ; and besides, about that 
 time he entered into matrimony with that excellent 
 and wealthy lady. Miss Mary Videau, who, with her 
 affections, bestowed on him a fortune sufficient to 
 satisfy his utmost wishes, even though they had been 
 far less moderate than they were.' Seeing now no par- 
 ticular obligation on hira to continue longer in the 
 public service, he gladly yielded to his sense of what 
 he owed to a generous and beloved companion, and 
 with her, retired to his native parish of St. John's, 
 where, amidst the benedictions of his countrymen, 
 and the caresses of numerous friends, he spent the 
 short remnant of his days, participating every rural 
 sweet with the dear woman of his choice, feasting on 
 the happy retrospect of a life passed in fighting for 
 THE RIGHTS OF MAN, and fondlv cherishing the hopes 
 of a better. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The author's last visit to Marion — interesting conversation oa 
 the importance of public instruction — tree sciiools siiown to 
 be a great saving to a nation. 
 
 I OFTEN went to see Marion. Our evenings were 
 passed as might have been expected between two old 
 friends, who had spent their better days together in 
 scenes of honorable enterprise and danger. On the 
 night of the last visit I ever made him, observing that 
 the clock was going for ten, I asked him if it were 
 not near his hour of rest. 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 239 
 
 ** Oh no," said he, "we must not talk of bed yet. 
 (t is but seiGom, you know, that we meet. And as 
 this may be our last^ let us take all we can of it *.n 
 chat. What do you think of the timesV 
 
 " glorious times," said I. 
 
 " Yes, thank God !" replied he. " They are glorious 
 times indeed ; and fully equal to all that we had in 
 hope, when we drew our swords for independence 
 But I am afraid they won't last long." 
 
 I asked him why he thought so. 
 
 "Oh ! knowledge, sir," said he, "is wanting ! know- 
 edge is wanting! Israel of old, you know, was de- 
 stroyed for lack of knowledge ; and all nations, all in- 
 dividuals, have come to naught from the same cause." 
 
 I told him I thought we were too happy to change 
 so soon. 
 
 " Pshaw !" replied he, " that is nothing to the pur- 
 pose. Happiness signifies nothing, if it be not knowrij 
 and properly valued. Satan, we are told, was once 
 an angel of light, but for want of duly considering his 
 glorious state, he rebelled and lost all. And hoy 
 many hundreds of young Carolinians have we not 
 known, whose fathers left them all the means of hap- 
 piness ; elegant estates, handsome wives, and, in 
 short, every blessing that the most luxurious could 
 desire ? Yet they could not rest, until by drinking 
 and gambling, they had fooled away their fortunes, 
 parted from their wives, and rendered themselves the 
 veriest bessars and blackguards on earth. 
 
 " Now, why was all this, butybr lack of knowledge ? 
 For had those silly ones but known the evils of pover- 
 ty, what a vile thing it was to wear a dirty shirt, a 
 long beard, and ragged coat ; to go without a dinner, 
 or to spunge for it among growling relations ; or to 
 be bespattered, or run over in the streets, by the sons 
 of those who were once their fathers' overseers ; I say, 
 had those poor boobies, in) the days of their prospe- 
 rity, known thesG things as they now do, would they 
 have squandered away the precious means of inde- 
 
240 'I'l^^ l-i^'E OP 
 
 pendence and pleasure, and have brought themselves 
 to all 'ills shame and sorrow ? No, never, never, never 
 " And so it is, most exactly, with nations. It' those 
 that divefree and happy ^ did but know their blessings, 
 do you think they would ever exchange them tor 
 slavery? If the Carthagenians, for example, in the 
 days of their freedom and self-government, when they 
 obeyed no laws but of their own making ; paid no 
 taxes, but for their own benefit ; and, {\'q& as air, pur- 
 sued their own interest as they liked ; I say, If that 
 once glorious and happy people had known their 
 blessings, would they have sacrificed them all, by 
 their accursed factions, to the Romans, to be ruled, 
 they and their children, with a rod of iron ; to be bur- 
 dened like beasts, and crucified like malefactors? 
 " No, surely they would not." 
 " Well, now to bring this home to ourselves. We 
 fought for self-government ; and God hath pleased to 
 give us one, better calculated perhaps to protect our 
 rights, to foster our virtues, to call forth our energies, 
 and to advance our condition nearer to perfection 
 and happiness, than any government that was ever 
 framed under the sun." 
 
 "But what signifies oven this government, divine 
 as it is, if it be not known and prized as it deserves ?" 
 
 I asked him how he thought this was best to be 
 done .' 
 
 " Why, certainly," replied he, " by free schools.''^ 
 I shook my head. 
 
 He observed it, and asked me what I meant by 
 that ? 
 
 I told him I was afraid the legislature would look 
 to their popularity, and dread the expense. 
 
 He exclaimed, " God preserve our legislature trom 
 such ^penny loit and pound foolishness /' What sir 
 keep a nation in ignorance, rather llian vote a little 
 of their own money for education ! Only let such poli- 
 ticians remember, what poor Carolina has alr(.'ady 
 lost through her ignorance. What was it that brcughf 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 241 
 
 the British, last war, to Carolina, but her lack of 
 knowledge'^ Had the people been enlightened, they 
 would have been united ; and had they been united, 
 they never would have been attacked a second time by 
 the British. For after that drubbing they got from 
 us at fort Moultrie, in 1776, they would as soon have 
 attacked the devil as have attacked Carolina again, 
 had they not heard that they were ' a house divided 
 against itself ;'' or in other words, had amongst us a 
 great number of Tories; men, who, through mere 
 Ignorance, were disaffected to the cause of liberty, and 
 ready to join the British against their own country- 
 men. Thus, ignorance begat toryism, and toryism 
 begat losses in Carolina, of which few have any idea. 
 
 " According to the best accounts, America spent 
 in the last war, seventy millions of dollars, which, 
 divided among the states according to their popula- 
 tion, gives to Carolina about eight millions ; making, 
 as the war lasted eight years, a million a year. Now, 
 it is generally believed, the British, after their loss of 
 Burgoyne and their fine northern army, would soon 
 have given up the contest, had it not been for the foot- 
 hold they got in Carolina, which protracted the war 
 at least two years longer. And as this two years' 
 ruinous war in Carolina was owing to the encourage- 
 ment the enemy got there, and that encouragement to 
 toryi'>m,and that toryism to ignorance, ignorance may 
 fairly be debited to two millions of loss to Carolina. 
 
 " Well, in these two extra years of tory-begotten 
 war, Carolina lost, at least four thousand men ; and 
 among them, a Laurens, a Williams^ a Campbell, a 
 Haynes, and many others, whose worth not the gold 
 of Ophir could value. But rated at the price at which 
 the prince of Hesse sold his people to George the 
 Third, to shoot the Americans, say, thirty pounds 
 sterling a head, or one hundred and fifty dollars, they 
 make six hundred thousand dollars. Then count the 
 twenty-five thousand slaves which Carolina certainly 
 voyt, and each slave at the moderate price of thrc? 
 
 21 
 
242 'i"*^E LIFE OF 
 
 hundred dollars, and yet have seven millions five 
 hundred thousand. To this add the houses, barns, 
 and stables that were burnt ; the plate plundered ; the 
 furniture lost ; the hogs sheep and horned cattle kill- 
 ed ; the rice, corn and othei crops destroyed, and 
 they amount, at the most moderate calculation, to five 
 millions. 
 
 " Now, to say nothing of those losses, which can- 
 not be rated by doLars and cents ^ such as the destruc- 
 tion oi morals and the rfis^radio/i of childless parents 
 and widows, but counting those only that are of the 
 plainest calculations, such as, 
 1st. Carolina's loss in the extra two 
 
 year's war. 
 2d. For her four thousand citizens 
 
 $ 2,000,000 
 600,000 
 
 3d. 
 
 slain in that time, ) 
 
 For twenty-five thousand slaves ) „ p-^^ qqq 
 
 lost, ) ' ' 
 
 4th. For buildings, furniture, cattle, ) e ^^r. qqq 
 
 grain, &c. &c. destroyed, ) ' ' 
 
 $15,100,000 
 
 Making the enormous sum of fifteen millions and 
 odd dollars capital ; and bearing an annual interest 
 of nearly ten hundred thousand dollars besides! and 
 all this for lack of a few yree schools, which would 
 hav'^e cost the "State a mere nothing.'' 
 
 I sighed, and told him I wished he had not broach- 
 ed the subject, tor it had made me very siul. 
 
 " Yes," replied he, " it is enough to make any one 
 sad. But it cannot be helj)ed but by a wiser course 
 of things ; for, if people will not do what will make 
 them happy, God will surely chastise them ; and this 
 dreadful loss of public property is one token of his 
 displeasure at our neglect of public instruction." 
 
 I asked him if this were really liis belief. " Yes, 
 sir," replied he, with great earnestness, " it is my be- 
 lief, and I would not exchange it for worlds. It is 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 243 
 
 iny firm belief, that every evil under the sun is of the 
 nature of chastisement, and appointed of the infi- 
 nitely good Being for our benefit. When you see a 
 youth, who, but lately, was the picture of bloom and 
 manly beauty, now utterly withered and decayed ; his 
 body bent ; his teeth dropping out ; his nose consum- 
 ed ; with foetid breath, ichorous eyes, and his whole 
 appearance most putrid, ghastly, and loathsome, you 
 are filled with pity and with horror ; you can hardly 
 believe there is a God, or hardly refrain from charg- ■ 
 ing him with cruelty. But, where folly raves, wisdom 
 adores. In this awful scourge of lawless lust, wisdom 
 discerns the infinite price which heaven sets on con- 
 jugal purity and love. In like manner, the enormous 
 sacrifice of public property, in the last war, being no 
 moie, as before observed, than the natural eflfect or" 
 public ignorance, ought to teach us that of all sijis, 
 there ^is none so hateful to God a.s national ignorance ; 
 that unfailing spring of national ingratitude, 
 
 REBELLION, SLAVERY, and WRETCHEDNESS! 
 
 " But if it be melancholy to think of so many ele- 
 gant houses, rich furniture, fat cattle, and preciou'; 
 crops, destroyed for want of that patriotism which ? 
 true knowledge of our interests would have inspired 
 then how much more melancholy to think of thosf 
 torrents of precious blood that were shed, those crue^ 
 slaughters and massacres, that took place among th* 
 citizens from the same cause ! As proof that such hel) 
 ish tragedies would never have been acted, had ou 
 state but been enlightened, only let us look at th^eo 
 pie of New England. From Britain, their fathefChati 
 fled to America for religion's sake. Religion had 
 taught them that God created men to be happy ; that 
 to be happy they must have virtue ; that virtue is not 
 lo be attained \v\{\\o\xt knowledge, nor knowledge with- 
 out instruction, nor public instruction without fret 
 schools, nor free schools without legislative order. 
 
 " Among a people who fear God, the knowledge of 
 duty is the same as doing it. Believing it to be tne 
 
244 THE LIFE OF 
 
 first command of God, "let there be light ,/' and be- 
 lieving it to be the will of God that " all should be 
 instructed, from the least to the greatest," these wise 
 legislators at once set about public instruction. They 
 did not ask, how will my constituents like this ? won't 
 they turn me out ? shall I not lose my three dollars 
 per day ? No ! but fully persuaded that public instruc- 
 tion is God's will, because the people's good, they 
 set about it like the true friends of the people. 
 
 " Now mark the happy consequence. When the 
 war broke out, you heard of no divisioti in New Eng- 
 land, no toryism, nor any of its horrid effects ; no 
 houses in flames, kindled by the hands of fellow-citi- 
 zens, no neighbors waylaying and shooting their 
 neighbors, plundering their property, carrying off 
 their stock, and aiding the British in the cursed work 
 of American murder and subjugation. But on the con- 
 trary, with minds well informed of their rights, and 
 hearts glowing with love for themselves and posteri- 
 ty, they rose up against the enemy, firm and united, 
 as a band of shepherds against the ravening wolves. 
 
 " And their valor in the field gave glorious proof 
 how men will fight when they know that their all is at 
 stake. See major Pitcairn, on the memorable 19th of 
 April, 1775, marching from Boston, with one thousand 
 British regulars, to burn the American stores at Con- 
 cord. Though this heroic excursion was commenced 
 under cover of the night, the farmers soon took the 
 alarm, and gathering around them with their fowling 
 pieces, presently knocked down one-fourth of their 
 number, and caused the rest to run, as if, like the 
 swine in the gospel, they had a legion of devils at 
 their backs. 
 
 " Now, with sorrowful eyes, let us turn to our own 
 state, where no pains were ever taken to enlighten the 
 minds of the poor. There we have seen a people na- 
 turally as brave as the New Englanders, for mere 
 lack of knowledge of their blessings possessed, of the 
 dangers threatened, suflbr lord Cornwallis, with 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 245 
 
 only sixteen hundred men, to chase general Greene 
 upwards of three hundred miles! In fact, to scout 
 hiin through the two great states of South and North 
 Carolina as far as Guildford court-house! and, when 
 Greene, joined at that place by two thousand poor 
 illiterate militia-men, determined at length to fight, 
 what did he gain by them, with all their number, but 
 disappointment and disgrace ? For, though posted 
 very advantageously behind the corn-field fences, they 
 could not stand a single fire from the British, but in 
 spite of their officers, broke and fled like base-born 
 slaves, leaving their loaded muskets sticking in the 
 fence corners ! 
 
 " But, from this shameful sight, turn again to the 
 land 0^ free schools; to Bunker's Hill. There, be- 
 hind a poor ditch of half a night's raising, you be- 
 hold fifteen hundred militia-men waiting the approach 
 of three thousand British regulars with a heavy train 
 of artillery ! With such odds against them, such fear- 
 ful odds in numbers, discipline, arms, and martial 
 fame, will they not shrink from the contest, and, 
 like their southern friends, jump up and run ! Oh no ; 
 to a man they have been taught to read ; to a man 
 they have been instructed to /aiow, and dearer than 
 life to prize, the blessings of freedom. Their bodies 
 are lying behind ditches, but their thoughts are on 
 the wing, darting through eternity. The warning 
 voice of God still rings in their ears. The hated 
 forms of proud merciless kings pass before their eyes. 
 They look back to the days of old, and strengthen 
 themselves as they think what their gallant forefathers 
 dared for liberty and for them. They looked 
 forward to their own dear children, and yearn over 
 the unoflE'ending millions, now, in tearful eyes, looking 
 up to them for protection. And shall this infinite 
 host of deathless beings, created in God's own image, 
 and capable by virtue and equal laws, of endless 
 progression in glory and happiness; shall they be ar- 
 rested in their hi^h career, and from the freeborii 
 
 21* 
 
246 THE LIFE OF 
 
 sons of (jod, be degraded into the slaves of man? 
 Maddening at the accursed thought, they grasp their 
 avenging firelocks, and drawing their sights along 
 the death-charged tubes, they long for the coming up 
 of the British thousands. Three times the British 
 thousands came up ; and three times the dauntless 
 yeomen, waiting their near approach, received them 
 in storms of thunder and lightning that shivered their 
 ranks, and heaped the field with their weltering car- 
 casses. 
 
 " In short, ray dear sir, men will always fight for 
 their government, according to their sense of its 
 value. To value it aright, they must understand it. 
 This they cannot do without education. And as a 
 large portion of the citizens are poor, and can never 
 attain that inestimable blessing, without the aid of 
 government, it is plainly the first duty of government 
 to bestow it freely upon them. And the more per- 
 fect the government, the greater the duty to make it 
 well known. Selfish and oppressive governments, in- 
 deed, as Christ observes, must " hate the light, and 
 fear to come to it, because their deeds are evil." But 
 a fair and cheap government, like our republic, " longs 
 for the light, and rejoices to come to the light, that 
 it may be manifested to be from God," and well 
 worth all the vigilance and valor that an enlightened 
 nation can rally for its defence. And, God knows, 
 a good government can hardly ever be half anxious 
 enough to give its citizens a thorough knowledge of 
 its own excellencies. For as some of the most valu- 
 able truths, for lack of careful promulgation, have 
 been lost; so the best government on earth, if not 
 duly known and prized, m.ay be subverted. Ambi- 
 tious demagogues will rise, and the people through 
 ignorance, and love of change, will follow tliem 
 Vast armies will be formed, and bloody battles fought. 
 And after desolating their country with all the hor- 
 rors of civil war, the guilty survivors will have to 
 bend their necks to the iron yokes of som? otern 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 241 
 
 usurper, and like beasts of burden, to drag, unpitied, 
 those galling chains which they have riveted upon 
 themselves for ever." 
 
 This, as nearly as I can recollect, was the substance 
 of the last dialogue I ever had with Marion. It was 
 spoken with an emphasis which I shall never forge*. 
 Indeed he described the glorious action at Bunker'" 
 Hill, as though he had been one of the cornbatanrj. 
 His agitation was great, his voice became altered aa' 
 broken ; and his face kindled over with that living, 
 fire with which it was wont to burn, when he entered 
 the battles of his country. I arose from my seat as he 
 spoke ; and on recovering from the magic of his 
 tongue, found myself bending forward to the voice 
 of my friend, and my right hand stretched by my 
 side ; it was stretched to my side for the sword that 
 was wont to burn in the presence of Marion when 
 battle rose, and the crowding foe was darkening 
 around us. But thanks to God, 'twas sweet delusion 
 all. No sword hung burning by my side ; no crowd- 
 ing foe darkened around us. In dust or in chains they 
 had all vanished away, and bright in his scabbard 
 rested the sword of peace in my own pleasant hailji 
 r.m Winy aw bay. 
 
248 THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The death of Marion — his character. 
 
 Next to Washington, O glorious shade ! 
 
 In page historic shall thy nanie have place. 
 Deep on thy country's memory are portrayed 
 
 Those gallant deeds which time shall ne'er erase. 
 
 Ah ! full of honors, and of years farewell ! 
 Thus o'er thy tomlj shall Carolina sigh : 
 Each tongue thy valor and ihy worih shall tell. 
 Which taught the young to fight, the old to die." 
 
 Thk next morning, I set out for my plantation on 
 VVinyaw bay. Marion, as usual, accompanied me to 
 ■ny horse, and, at parting, begged I would come and 
 ^ee him again soon, for that he felt he had not long 
 to stay. As the reader may suppose, I paid but little 
 heed to this expression, which I looked on as no more 
 than the common cant of the aged. But I soon had 
 cause to remember it with sorrow. For I had been 
 but a few weeks at home, before, opening a Charles- 
 ton paper, I found in a mourning column, " The 
 DEATH OF GENERAL Marion." Ncvcr shall I forgct 
 the heart-sickness of that moment ; never forget 
 what I felt when first I learned that Marion was no 
 more. Though the grave was between us, yet his be- 
 loved image seemed to appear before me fresher than 
 ever. All our former friendships, all our former wars 
 returned. But alas! he who was to me the soul of all 
 the rest ; the foremost in every battle ; the dearest at 
 every feast ; he shall return no more ! " Oh Marion, 
 my friend!" my bursting heart seemed to say, " and 
 art thou gone ? Shall I no more hear that voice which 
 was always so sweet ; no more see that smile which 
 awakened up such joy in my soul ! Must that beloved 
 form be lost forever among the clods in the valley. 
 And those godlike virtues, shall they pass away like 
 the empty visions of the night!" 
 
GEN FRANCIS MaRION. 249 
 
 From this deep gloom which strong atheistic sor- 
 row bad poured over ray nerves, I was suddenly 
 roused, as by an angel's touch, to the bright hopes of 
 religion. The virtues of my departed friend all flash 
 ed at once upon my kindling thoughts : his counte- 
 nance so stern with honor ; his tongue so sacred to 
 truth ; that heart always so ready to meet death in 
 defence of the injured ; that eye ever beaming bene- 
 volence to man, and that whole life so reverential of 
 God. The remembrance, I say, of all these things, 
 came in streams of joy to my heart. 
 
 " O happy Marion !" I exclaimed, " thou art safe, 
 my friend ; thou art safe. No tears of mine shall 
 doubt thy blissful state. Surely if there be a God, 
 and that there is, all nature cries aloud through all 
 her works, he must delight in virtue, and what he 
 delights in must be happy." 
 
 Then it was, that I felt what a benefactor Marion 
 had been to me. How dear his company while liv- 
 ing ; how sweet his memory when dead. Like the 
 sun travelling in brightness, his smiles had ever been 
 my joy, his example ray light. And though now set 
 in the grave, yet has he not left me in darkness. His 
 virtues, like stars, are lighted up after him. They 
 point my hopes to the path of glory ; and proclaim, 
 that, though fallen, he is not extinguished. 
 
 From the physicians and many others who attend- 
 ed him in his last illness, I learned that he had died 
 as he had lived, a truly great man. His chamber 
 was not, as is usual with dying persons, a scene of 
 gloom and silent distress, but rather like the cheerful 
 parlor of one who was setting out on an agreeable 
 journey. " Some," said he, " have spoken of death 
 as a leap in the dark ; but for my part, I look on it 
 as a welcome resting place, where virtuous old age 
 may throw down his pains and aches, wipe off his old 
 scores, and begin anew on an innocent and happy state 
 that shall last for ever. What weakness to wish to 
 .ve to such ghastly dotage, as to frighten th*» chil 
 
250 THE LIFE OF 
 
 dren, and make even the dogs to bark at us as we 
 totter along the streets. Most certainly then, there is 
 a time when, to ?i good man, death is a great mer^y 
 even to his body ; and as to his soul, why should he 
 tremble about that ? Who can doubt that God created 
 us to be happy ; and thereto made us to love one ano- 
 ther'? which is plainly written in our hearts; whose 
 every thought and work of love is happiness, and as 
 plainly written as the gospel ; whose every line 
 breathes love, and every precept enjoins good works. 
 Now, the man who has spent life in bravely denying 
 himself every inclination that would make others 
 miserable, and in courageously doing all in his power 
 to make them happy, what has such a man to fear 
 from death, or rather, what glorious things has he 
 not to hope from it?" 
 
 Hearing one of his friends say that the methodists 
 and baptists were progressing rapidly in some parts 
 of the state, he replied, " Well, thank God for that ; 
 that is good news." The same gentleman then asked 
 him which he thought was the best religion. " I know 
 but one religion," he answered, " and that is hearty 
 love of God and man. This is the only true religion ; 
 and I would to God our country was full of it. For 
 it is the only spice to embalm and to immortalize 
 our republic. Any politician can sketch out a fine 
 theory of government, but what is to bind the peo- 
 ple to the practice ? Archimedes used to mourn that 
 though his mechanic powers were irresistible, yet 
 he could never I'aise tlie world ; because he had no 
 place in the heavens, whereon to fix his pullies. Even 
 so, our republic will never be raised above the shame- 
 ful factions and miserable end of all other govern- 
 ments, until our citizens come to have their hearts 
 like Archimedes' pullies, fixed on heaven. The world 
 sometimes make such bids to ambition, that nothing 
 but heaven can outbid her. The heart is sometimes 
 so embittered, that nothing but divine love can sweeten 
 It ; so enraged, that devndon only can becalm it ; p.nd 
 
GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 251 
 
 SO broke down, that it takes all the force of heavenly 
 hope to raise it. In short, religion is the only sove- 
 reign and controlling power over man. Bound by 
 that, the rulers will never usurp, nor the people rebel. 
 The former will govern like fathers, and the latter 
 obey like children. And thus moving on, firm and 
 united as a host of brothers, they will continue ir.- 
 vincible as long as they continue virtuous." 
 
 When he was near his end, seeing his lady weep- 
 ing by his bedside, he gave her a look of great ten- 
 derness, and said, "My dear, weep not for me, I am 
 not afraid to die ; for, thank God, I can laymy haua 
 on ray heart and say, that since I came to man's es- 
 tate, I have never intentionally done wrong to any." 
 
 These were nearly his last words, for shortly 
 after uttering them, he closed his eyes in the sleep 
 )f death. 
 
 Thus peaceful and happy was the end of general 
 Francis Marion, of whoiu, as a partisan officer, gene- 
 ral Greene has often been heard to say, that " the 
 page of history never furnished his equal." And if 
 any higher praise of Marion w^ere necessary, it is to 
 be found in the very remarkable resemblance between 
 him and the great Washington. They both came 
 forward, volunteers in the service of their country ; 
 they both learned the military art in the hard and 
 hazardous schools of Indian warfare ; they were both 
 such true soldiers in vigilance^ that no enemy could 
 ever surprise them ; and so equal in undaunted valor, 
 that nothing could ever dishearten them : while 
 as to the still nobler virtues of patience, disinterest- 
 edness, self-government, severity to themselves and 
 generosity to their enemies, it is difficult to determine 
 whether Marion or Washington most deserve our 
 admiration. And even in the lesser incidents of their 
 lives, the resemblance between these two great men 
 is closer than common. They were both born in the 
 same year; both lost their fathers in early life ; both 
 
252 GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 tnarriea excellent and wealthy ladies ; both left 
 widows ; and both died childless. 
 
 The name of Marion continues dcai* to the people 
 of the south ; and to this day, -whenever his aniial)le 
 widow rides through the country, she meets the 
 most pleasing evidences, that her husband, though 
 dead, is not forgotten. The Avealthy, every wliere, 
 treat her with the respect due to a mother ; Avhile 
 the poor, gathering around her carriage, often press 
 to shake hands with her, then looking at each other 
 with a sigh they exclaim — " That's the widow of 
 OUR Glorious old Marion." 
 
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