Book: The Life of General Francis Marion

M >> Mason Locke Weems >> The Life of General Francis Marion




"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 liberty's sake, came and settled in this country,
then a howling wilderness. For a long time they ate their bread,
not only embittered with sweat, but often stained with blood --
their own and the blood of their children, 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 England was a pleasant sound in our ears --
the sight of their ships was always wont to fill our hearts with joy.
We hasted to greet the beloved strangers; and hurrying them
to our habitations, spread for them our feast, and rejoiced as men do
in the society of their dearest friends.

"Oh! had our mother country but treated us with 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 gallant fathers? Will you thus tamely suffer to be frustrated
all the glorious designs of God towards you and your children?
For look but around on this great land, 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 wood 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 as to bring it on yourselves?
I trust you will not. Nay, the voices of your brave countrymen in Congress,
have said YOU WILL NOT, 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 highest rank of nations, by proclaiming her INDEPENDENT?"

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, which highly pleased
the common soldiers, who readily followed their patriotic example.
Soon as the solemn rite was performed, the governor ordered a `feu 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 rattling wheels, they told to fancy's ear, "Freedom's sons are we,
and d--n the villains that would make us slaves!"




Chapter 6.

Times growing squally -- the author sets out a vagrant hunting --
gets into hot water -- narrowly escapes with his life --
catches a host of vagabonds, but learns from experience,
that, though a rascal may do to stop a bullet, 'tis only the man of honor
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 justice, 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 upside 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 Lazarites,
with red noses and black eyes, and the fences all strung along
with starved tackies, in grape-vine bridles and sheep-skin saddles.
In short, the whole country was fast overrunning with vagabonds,
like ravening locusts, seeking where they might light,
and whom they should devour.

"Good heavens!" said Marion to me one day, and with 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 fly 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 but be brought to bear, would, I think,
soon settle the hash with these rascals."

"Aye," replied he, "well, pray give it to us, for I should be very fond
to hear it."

"Why sir," said I, "give me but a lieutenant, sergeant, 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 villains,
you may, with all my heart, give me a good suit of tar and feathers."

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 Bluff, 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 proper warrant.

We had gone but a few miles, before we fell in with a squad of as choice game
as heart could have wished, three proper tall young vagabonds!
profoundly 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 fleecing each other,
that they took no manner of notice of us, but continued their scoundrel work,
eagerly stretched over the table, thwacking down their cards
with filthy knuckles, and at every stroke bawling out, "there's a good trick!"

"That's as good as he."

"And there's 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, gentlemen," said I,
"for I love honest men prodigiously, and hope the magistrate will confirm
the handsome report 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 Johnson, a militia captain,
who appeared quite overwhelmed 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?"

I told him I was much obliged to him, for his politeness --
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 of fat venison, major;
or a brace of young ducks; or, a green goose with currant jelly,
and a bottle of old Madeira to wash it down, do you see, major!
something NICE for you, do you see, major!"

"NICE," said I, "captain Johnson! We soldiers of liberty
don't stand upon the NICE -- the SUBSTANTIAL is that we care for --
a rasher of fat bacon from the coals, with a good stout lump of an ash cake,
is NICE enough for us."

"Oh, my dear sir!" replied he, "now DON'T, DON'T 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 me at 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 doubted; 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.

While breakfast was getting ready, (for Johnson swore I should not leave him
"on an empty stomach",) lieutenant Jossilin came and told me
he did not understand the meaning of so many ill-looking fellows
coming about the house with 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 constable, and desired him
to look to his charge, meaning the three vagrants, for that we would start
as soon as our men were all refreshed. Upon this captain Johnson 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 oppressive one."

I asked him, still keeping myself perfectly cool, if he was not
an American soldier?

"Yes, sir," he answered, "I am an American soldier; and as good a one,
perhaps, as yourself, or any other man."

"Well, sir, and is this the way you show your soldiership,
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--n me, 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 sergeant and men, with fixed bayonets,
ready for slaughter, 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 poor 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 moment 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 tremble; you have nothing to fear from me.
A man who can act as you have done, is not an object of anger, but CONTEMPT.
Go! and learn the spirit that becomes a gentleman and an American soldier."

I should have observed, that as we advanced to charge Johnson's poltroons,
one of the party, a resolute 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 off, some of Johnson's fugitives had the audacity to bawl out,
though from a very prudent distance, threatening us that
they would yet rescue the prisoners before we got to the bluff.
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 ready to quit their purpose the moment they saw danger
in the way.

Our success at vagrant hunting was marvellous. I hardly think we could,
in the same time, have caught as many raccoons in any swamp on Pedee.
On counting 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 "the 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 regiment, except as disgust to the men
and vexation to the officers. Destitute of honor, they performed their duty,
not like soldiers, but slaves; and, on every opportunity,
would run off into the woods like wild beasts.




Chapter 7.

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 child, with other 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 reinforce 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 cooperate in this affair, 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 generosity and courage, which, in former days,
would have laid the ground-work of a heroic romance. One of the actors
in this extraordinary play was the brave sergeant 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 brother,
giving him a hearty shake by the hand -- "And now only say the word, my boy,
and here is a commission for you, with 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.

After staying with his brother some two or three days, inspecting and hearing
all that he could, he took his leave, and by a round about, returned to camp,
and 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 Newton, and spent several days
in the British fort, without giving 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?"

"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."

"Let's see 'em," said Jasper, "let's see 'em."

So his brother took him and Newton to see them. And indeed it was
a mournful sight to behold them, where they sat, poor fellows!
all hand-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 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 husband, showed that she was rich
in that pure conjugal 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 hard 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 neighboring 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 woman 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 stand by you, my 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 cordiality, 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 glorious cause.

Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were sent on for Savannah,
under a guard of a sergeant and corporal with eight men.
They had not been gone long, before Jasper, accompanied by his friend Newton,
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 opportunity
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,
especially 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.
But 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 travellers, 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 concealed themselves among the bushes
that grew abundantly 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, with great alarms,
for "it was a fearful odds." The corporal with his guard of four men,
conducted the prisoners 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 corporal'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! Newton, is our time!" 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, with 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 ordered them to surrender,
which they instantly did.

Having called the prisoners to them, they quickly with
the point of their bayonets, broke off their handcuffs,
and gave each of them a musket.

At the commencement of the fray, poor Mrs. Jones, half frightened to death,
had fallen to the ground in a swoon, with her little son
piteously screaming over her. But when she came to herself,
and saw her husband and friends around her, all freed from their fetters
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 --
"O praise! praise! praise God for ever! 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 Samsons, 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
astonishment and joy of us all.




Chapter 8.

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 general -- unsuccessful attack on Savannah --
the brave Jasper mortally wounded -- is visited by the author
in his last moments -- interesting conversation --
dies like a Christian soldier.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.