Book: The Life of General Francis Marion

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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 bloodhounds, 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 her 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 whipped by a whig magistrate,
or had long coveted his silver tankard, or his handsome rifle,
or his elegant horse, had but to point out his house to major Weymies,
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-swimming 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 regarded
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 find
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 arms
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 swoon.

Who can tell the feelings of the father and the husband! His wife
convulsed in his arms! his little beggared children screaming around him!
and his property all sinking to ruin, by merciless enemies!
Presently 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 mansion which shone
so beauteous on the plain, the pride and pleasure of their eyes,
is now the prey of devouring flames. 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 sufferers with the deadliest hate
of the British; and brought them, in crowds, to join his standard,
with muskets in their hands, and vows of revenge eternal in their mouths.

Hence it was that nothing so pleased Marion as to hear of British cruelty
to his countrymen.

"'Tis a harsh 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 to keep him easy, and he's a dead man.
But if you can only knock him about, and so put the poison in motion
as to make him deadly sick at the stomach, and heave like a dog
with a bone in his throat, he is safe. Cornwallis has all this time
been lulling them by his proclamations, and protections, and lies.
But, thank God, that time is pretty well over now;
for these unfeeling 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 tackies;
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 Marion; and his eye beamed that laughing joy,
with which a father meets his thoughtless boy, returning dirty and beaten
by blackguards, from whose dangerous 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, the British and tories 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 alone
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 insolent 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'!"

Here Marion snapped his fingers for joy, and shouted, "Huzza! that's right!
that's right! O my noble Britons, lay on! lay on the spaniels stoutly!
they want British protections, do they? O 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 God! the potion begins to work!
huzza, my sons! heave! heave! aye, there comes the bile; the atrabiliary;
the black vomiting which portends death to the enemy. Now Britons,
look to your ships, for Carolina will soon be too hot to hold you."




Chapter 16.

Colonel Tynes, the famous tory partisan, attempts to surprise Marion --
is himself surprised and taken, with nearly all his party --
the author, with thirty choice cavaliers, sent by Marion to reconnoitre --
defeat of a British party of horse -- anecdote of Scotch Macdonald --
surprise and slaughter of the tories -- captain Lewis is killed --
anecdote of an extraordinary 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 mustering 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 dangerous 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, than the fatigues of the day
appeared to be entirely forgotten. All hands fell to work,
currying, rubbing and feeding their horses, like young men preparing
for a ball or barbecue. Then after a hearty supper and a few hours' sleep,
we all sprung upon our chargers again, and dashed off about one o'clock,
to try our fortune with colonel Tynes. Just before day,
we came 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 were among them hewing down.
Three and thirty fell under our swords; forty-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 ordered 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 crossed 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 along 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 to dine.
On getting into the gloomy woods, the girls were taken with a quaking fit
for their sweethearts, lest that vile "swamp fox", as they called Marion,
should come across them. Whereupon the halt aforesaid was ordered,
and a consultation held; the result of which was, that the girls
should go on to their friend's house, and the officers back to town
for a party of dragoons. Accordingly the chair proceeded, and the officers
galloped back by us, undisturbed; for we did not think it worth 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 to 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 before! --
and on stepping into the house behold the very same young ladies!
They were 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 gentleman 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 rate, I discovered with much pleasure, that the lady of the house
did not utter a word, but walked the room backward and forward
with a smiling countenance. Presently she went out; and showing herself
at an opposite window, 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 provisions; I will 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, when 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 the good-natured cook wenches soon served up
a most welcome repast of fried bacon and eggs, with nice hearth cakes
and butter and milk. "God be praised," said we; and down we sat, and made
a breakfast, of which even kings, without exercise and keen appetites,
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! to horse!
my brave fellows!" was the cry of one and all. Quick as thought,
we were all mounted and formed, when in came our sentinels,
with the British dragoons hard after them, smack up to the fence.
Charge 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 sweethearts -- "Oh the British! the British! murder! murder! Oh!"
Then off 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 British. Down the hill went we;
helter-skelter, man and horse, we flew; roaring through the woods
like the sound of distant thunder.

We were all 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 stirrups, 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 poured his charging shout,
dreadful as the roar of the lion when, close up to his game,
with hideous paws unclenched, 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 finished a gentleman he was too,
as I ever saw. I got acquainted 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 inquired, if I did not recollect
how handsomely one of the British officers gave me the slip that day?
I told him I did. "Well," continued he, "I was that officer;
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, that 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 crawled out of the swamp,
into Georgetown, that night, they were as gray as a badger!
I was well nigh taking 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."

I went with him, and was introduced to his wife, a lovely woman indeed!
to whom, with 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 behind 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 countenance of his lovely wife,
because he well knew the 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, colonel 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,
`Here's friendship in marble, enmity in dust.'"

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 officer,
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 me 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 tories, charge with spirit, and I'll warrant your success."

As we approached the bridge, still moving on very circumspectly, in the woods,
we discovered at a short distance, a body of horsemen, perhaps a hundred,
apparently 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, leaving with me but a lad of fourteen,
named Gwinn, 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 the 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 report of our pieces,
and 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 very strong and brave men, whose families had suffered
very severely, by British and tory cruelty; and, I am afraid,
they did not forget this, when their 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 Tynes and captain Barfield,
and other British and loyal officers, 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 colonel 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 fleetness 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 pursuit of a favorite buffalo,
he took no notice of them. His eye was fixed on colonel Gainey.
Just as they turned Richmond corner, Selim had brought his master
near enough to his prey to make a stroke at him with his bayonet.
By a sudden jerk, it is supposed, the weapon turned; so that when Macdonald
drew back the carbine, he left the bayonet up to the hilt in 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 17.

Spirit of the tories -- assassination of lieutenant Marion --
the murderer murdered -- Marion's reflections on the death of his nephew --
his manner of rewarding extraordinary courage among his men --
sketch of the brave boy Gwinn.



"If mortal hands thy peace destroy,
Or friendship's gifts bestow,
Wilt thou to man ascribe the joy --
To man impute the woe?

'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 befell 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 such a cruel 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.

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