Book: The Life of General Francis Marion

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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 commanded by active, ambitious young fellows,
who looked on themselves as on the high road to fortune
among the conquered rebels. They all carried with them
pocket maps of South Carolina, on which they were constantly poring
like young spendthrifts on their fathers' last testaments. They would also
ask a world of questions, such as, "where lay the richest lands? --
and the finest situations? -- and who were the warmest old fellows,
and had the finest girls?" and when answered to their humor,
they would break out into hearty laughs; and flourish their swords,
and `whoop' and `hoic' it away like young fox hunters,
just striking on a fresh trail.

Some of them had Dr. Madan's famous book called "Thylipthora,
or a Defence of Polygamy", with which they were prodigiously taken,
and talked very freely of reducing the system to practice. Cornwallis,
it seems, was to be a bashaw of three tails -- Rawdon and Tarleton,
of two each -- and as a natural appendage of such high rank,
they were to have their seraglios and harems filled
with the greatest 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 bosomed, lovely 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, prowling round a farm yard, had suddenly heard
the cackling of the rooster pullets. The reader shall presently 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, by way of prologue, to entertain him a moment
with a very curious farce that was acted on a wealthy old tory,
near Monk'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 Macdonald, son of the Macdonald of famous defeat at Morris Creek Bridge,
North Carolina. Soon after the defeat of his father
he came and joined our troops. Led by curiosity, I 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 massacre 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 countrymen, but butchered
all they could overtake, these generous people often gave us their tears,
and said, "O! that we had been there to aid with our rifles,
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'!

"Now," said I to myself, "if ever there was a time for God to stand up
to punish ingratitude, this was the time." And God did stand up:
for he enabled the Americans to defeat my father and his friends
most completely. But, instead of murdering the prisoners, as the English
had done at Culloden, they treated 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 curious trick which he played,
is as follows.

Soon as he heard that colonel Tarleton was encamped at Monk'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 rebels 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 sparkling with joy; "Yes, Mr. Sergeant, that I will, by gad!
and would send him one of my finest daughters too, had he but said the word.
A good friend of the king, did he call me, Mr. Sergeant?
yes, God save his sacred majesty, a good friend I am indeed, and a true.
And, faith! I am glad too, Mr. Sergeant, that colonel knows it.
Send him 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!"

"You do, you villain, do you? -- Well then, run! jump! fly, you rascal,
fly to the stable, and bring me out Selim, my young Selim! do you hear?
you villain, 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.

"O 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 cobwebs, 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 you 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, Mr. Sergeant. I've no work that's fit for him, sir;
no! damme, sir, if there's any work in all this country
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 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 countenance of one who expected to be eaten up with fondness.
But alas! to his infinite mortification, Tarleton heard his name
without the least change of feature.

After recovering a little from his embarrassment, he asked colonel Tarleton
how he liked his charger.

"Charger, sir!" replied 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, his young, 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 sinner 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 indeed! Full sixteen hands high; the eye of a hawk,
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 all 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 lustily 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 "go", off he was among them like a thunderbolt.

And to see how Macdonald would charge, you would swear the fear of death
was never before his eyes. Whether it was one or ten against him,
it made no odds to this gallant Scotsman. He never 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 Macdonald! 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 concealment, a thick clump 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 eyes of an ambushed lion,
when he beholds the coming forth of the buffaloes towards his gloomy cave.
"Zounds, Macdonald," said I, "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 sword of Macdonald."

Soon as they were come fairly opposite to us, we 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, overthrown 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.
Then 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. But they could not distance
the swift-footed Selim. Rapid as the deadly 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 10.

The abomination and desolation set up in South Carolina --
the 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 themselves over the country.
Then was exhibited a spectacle, 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 THOUSAND! and yet this host 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 firm
as a rock of granite; the Carolinians were scattered over the country
loose as a rope of sand: the British all well armed and disciplined,
moved in dreadful harmony, giving 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 picked 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, and 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, unguarded 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 trampled
into the mire of slavery; groaning under heavy burdens
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 populous 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 rheumatism, I mounted my horse,
and with sword and 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 people,
to whom I rode up, and with great civility, as I thought,
asked 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 shooting the young slave dead
upon the spot. But God was pleased to give me patience to bear up
under that heavy cross; for which I have since very heartily thanked 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 way
to one who had on, as he saw, the American uniform, must be a savage,
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 foreign usurpers,
the generality quite disheartened, and the few, who dared to take her part,
thus publicly insulted, was a shock I was not prepared for,
and which, therefore, sunk my spirits to the lowest ebb of despondence.
Such was the frame of mind wherein I left my native state, and set out,
sick and alone, for the northward, with scarce a hope of ever seeing
better days. About the middle of the second day, as I beat 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 my wishes,
though the last in my expectations; who, I say, should it be but Marion!
Our mutual surprise was great. "Good heavens!" we both exclaimed
in the same 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 began 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 a while."

Whereupon I dismounted; and with the help of his servant,
for his ankle 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 reinvigorated 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 acquaintance 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 the spirit to play a generous game,
would certainly ruin us. But they have no idea of that game;
but will treat the people cruelly. And that one thing will ruin them,
and save America."

"I pray God," said I, "it may be so."

"Well, don't be afraid," replied he, "you will assuredly see 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 friendship is.
And well indeed it was for us that our hearts were so rich in friendship,
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 reader may well suppose,
when 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 command 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, we were frequently
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 consequence of candidly telling the publicans that, "we had nothing
to pay," they as candidly declared, "they had nothing to give,"
and that "those that had no money had no business to travel."
At length we came to the resolution to say nothing about our poverty,
but, after 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 to hem and ha, to tell us of a `mighty 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.

"Oh!" quoth he, "the road is mighty plain; you can't miss your way."

"But consider, sir, we are strangers."

"Oh! I never liked strangers in all my life."

"But, sir, we are your countrymen, American officers, 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 answer, when his wife,
who appeared to be a very genteel woman, with a couple of charming girls,
her daughters, ran 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 that Washington was still in the field,
and the issue of the war unknown; and that at any rate it was good
to have a friend at court.

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