At length Maj. James arrived. The news was, that the country through which Wemyss had marched, for seventy miles in length, and at places for fifteen miles in width, exhibited one continued scene of desolation. On most of the plantations every house was burnt to the ground, the negroes were carried off, the inhabitants plundered, the stock, especially sheep, wantonly killed; and all the provisions, which could be come at, destroyed. Fortunately the corn was not generally housed, and much of that was saved. Capt. James had fired upon a party at M'Gill's plantation; but it only increased the rage of the enemy. Adam Cusan had shot at the black servant of a tory officer, John Brockington, whom he knew, across Black creek. He was taken prisoner soon after, and for this offence, tried by a court martial, and, on the evidence of the negro, hanged. His wife and children prostrated themselves before Wemyss, on horseback, for a pardon; and he would have rode over them, had not one of his own officers prevented the foul deed; from this scene he proceeded on to superintend the execution. But these acts of wantonness and cruelty had roused the militia; and Maj. James reported they were ready to join the general. Marion, in a few days after, returned to South Carolina by a forced march. On the second day, while passing through the tory settlement, on Little Pedee, he traversed sixty miles, and arriving near Lynch's creek, was joined by Capts. John James and Henry Mouzon, with a considerable force. Here he was informed that a party of tories, but more numerous than his own, lay at Black Mingo, fifteen miles below, under the command of Capt. John Coming Ball. He might soon have been reinforced, but finding his men unanimous for battle, he gratified their wishes. The tories were posted at Shepherd's ferry, on the south side of Black Mingo, a deep navigable creek, and had command of the passage. To approach them, Gen. Marion was obliged to cross the creek, one mile above, over a boggy causeway and bridge of planks. It was nearly midnight when he arrived at the bridge; and while the party was crossing it, an alarm gun was heard in the tory camp. The general immediately ordered his men to follow him in full gallop, and, in a few minutes, they reached the main road which led to the ferry, about three hundred yards in front of it. Here they all dismounted, except a small body, which acted as cavalry. The general ordered a corps of supernumerary officers, under the command of Capt. Thomas Waties, to proceed down the road, and attack Dollard's house, where it was supposed the tories were posted, and at the same time he detached two companies to the right, under Col. Hugh Horry, and the cavalry to the left, to support the attack. Before the corps of officers could reach the house, the party on the right had encountered the enemy, who had left the house, and were drawn up in an old field opposite to it. This circumstance gave to the latter all the advantage of a surprise, and their first fire was so severe and unexpected, as to oblige Horry's men to fall back in some confusion; these were, however, soon rallied by the great exertions of Capt. John James. And the tories in the mean time being attacked on their flank by the corps of officers, and finding themselves between two fires, gave way after a few rounds, and took refuge in Black Mingo swamp, which was in their rear. This action, although of short duration, was so closely and sharply contested, that the loss on both sides was nearly one third, killed and wounded.

Capt. George Logan, of Charleston, had been sick near the White marsh; but, hearing that Marion had marched for South Carolina, he rose from his bed, mounted his horse, and rode eighty miles the day before the action, to join him, and was killed that night at Black Mingo. Such was the energy of this fallen patriot. Two other gallant officers, Capt. Henry Mouzon and his Lieut. Joseph Scott, were, by their wounds, rendered unfit for further service.

Many of the enemy had been lately companions in arms with Marion, and in a short time joined him again, and behaved well afterwards. As many of his party had left their families in much distress, the general gave them leave to go to their homes, and appointed them to meet him at Snow's island, on the Pedee. They delayed so long, that he began to despair of their coming, and proposed to a few officers, who were with him, to abandon South Carolina, and join Gen. Greene, at Charlotte. But Col. Hugh Horry, who was his bosom friend, and partook more of his confidence than any other man, prevailed upon him to remain. The services of Col. Hugh Horry, in the field, were certainly highly meritorious; but he never rendered his country more effectual aid than by this act of friendly persuasion. The militia at length came in. The general soon after, marched up into Williamsburgh, and gained reinforcements daily. His first intention was to chastise Harrison, on Lynch's creek; and he was moving up for that purpose, but hearing that Col. Tynes had summoned the people of Salem, and the fork of Black river, out to do duty as his majesty's subjects, he instantly resolved to break up the party, before its newly made converts should become confirmed in the principles they had unwillingly adopted.—Tynes lay encamped at Tarcote, in the fork of Black river, much off his guard, and Gen. Marion crossing the lower ford of the northern branch of that river, at Nelson's plantation, marched up and surprised him in the night. The rout was universal, and attended, as Tarcote swamp was near, with more dismay than slaughter. Gen. Marion lost not a man; some tories were killed, and among the rest Capt. Amos Gaskens; a man noted before the war for petty larceny, and after it commenced, for plundering under Major Wemyss. The most of Tynes' men, soon after joined Gen. Marion, and fought bravely.

The next enemy Gen. Marion proceeded to encounter was the renowned Col. Tarleton. Hearing that he had left Charleston, where he had been for some time past confined with a fever, and that he was to cross at Nelson's ferry with a body of cavalry, Gen. Marion lay in wait for him, in the river swamp, a part of two days. (Nov. 1780.) He had cut bushes, and planted them on the road side in such a manner as would have ensured him a deadly fire. But in the evening of the second day, he was informed that Tarleton had passed before he had arrived on his way to Camden; and the general immediately commenced his march up the road in the same direction. In the night he stopped in a wood, near where Mr. Charles Richardson now lives, and was about to encamp; but seeing a great light towards Gen. Richardson's plantation, he concluded that it was the houses of the plantation on fire, and that Tarleton was there. While deliberating what was to be done, Col. Richard Richardson came in, and informed him the enemy was there, and at least double his number, with two field pieces; and it was discovered that one of his men had deserted to them. Finding Tarleton had now a guide, and that his position was unsafe, Marion immediately retreated; and crossing the Woodyard, then a tremendous swamp, in the most profound darkness,* he never stopped till he had passed Richbourgh's mill dam, on Jack's creek, distant about six miles. Having now a mill pond and miry swamp between him and the enemy, and the command of a narrow pass, the first words the general was heard to say were, "Now we are safe!" As soon as Tarleton received intelligence of Gen. Marion's position, and had got a guide, he thought to make sure of his prey, and commenced his march: he was led in silence to the spot which he contemplated as another scene of slaughter; but his intended victim had flown. He pursued to the Woodyard, but could not pass that night. The next morning Marion, knowing the vigilance of his foe, decamped betimes; and pursuing his route down Black river, for thirty-five miles, through woods, and swamps and bogs, where there was no road, encamped the following night on advantageous ground, at Benbow's ferry, now Lowry's bridge, about ten miles above Kingstree, on the east side of Black river. In a partisan warfare this position was the best that could have been taken. He could now defend himself, first at Black river itself; and after that at three difficult passes, of swamps, in his rear; all within ten miles, on that side of the river, before he reached Kingstree; but on the direct road to that place, on the west, there was but the one defile at the river; besides the possibility of being overtaken before he reached it. Here then Marion determined to make a stand, and felled trees across the road to impede the enemy. On the morning after the retreat, Tarleton found Marion's trail across the Woodyard, but went round it, and pursued, as he says, "for seven hours, through swamps and defiles." In fact he pursued about twenty-five miles, when arriving at Ox swamp,** which was wide and miry, and without a road to pass it, he desisted, saying to his men, "Come my boys! let us go back, and we will soon find the game cock, (meaning Sumter) but as for this d——d old fox, the devil himself could not catch him." After this, the two generals were thus characterized. It is amusing to read Tarleton's pompous account of this pursuit. He insinuates that Marion's sole view was to save himself; as Tarleton stopped ten or twelve miles short of Benbow's, he might not have heard of the preparations made there to receive him. For the same distance Marion had been skirting the south branch of Black river, and could at any time, in a few minutes, have plunged into it, and no regular body of cavalry could have followed him. Had Tarleton proceeded with his jaded horses to Benbow's, he would have exposed his force to such sharp shooting as he had not yet experienced, and that in a place where he could not have acted either with his artillery or cavalry.

* Darkness visible.

** This Ox swamp is twenty-three miles above Kingstree, another mentioned hereafter, is thirteen miles below.

On this expedition, Tarleton burnt the house, out houses, corn and fodder, and a great part of the cattle, hogs and poultry, of the estate of Gen. Richardson. The general had been active with the Americans, but was now dead; and the British leader, in civilized times, made his widow and children suffer for the deeds of the husband and parent, after the manner of the East, and coast of Barbary. What added to the cruel nature of the act, was that he had first dined in the house, and helped himself to the abundant good cheer it afforded. But we have seen before the manner in which he requited hospitality. It was generally observed of Tarleton and his corps, that they not only exercised more acts of cruelty than any one in the British army, but also carried further the spirit of depredation.

The wise policy of Gen. Marion had hitherto been to keep his own party, as yet but small, constantly in motion, and thus to multiply it, in the view of the enemy; and immediately to strike at all other parties preparing to join them. Had parties from the country been suffered to incorporate with the British, and to unite in their principles and views, the sense of a dereliction of duty, and the punishment expected to await it, as well as the pride of opinion, usually attending a new conversion, might have kept them firm in their apostacy. Of a truth, Gen. Marion made many converts to the cause of his country.

Many from inclination and principle felt a strong desire to join him, and again to reconcile themselves to the cause they had at first adopted and deserted with the utmost reluctance, and became confirmed in their views, by his apparent abilities and successes; others had felt the suddenness and unexpected severity of his midnight blows, and thought the step of uniting with him would be the most prudent or politic. From the operation of both sentiments, the people of that tract of country, on a line, stretching from Camden across to the mouth of Black creek, on Pedee, including generally both banks of the Wateree, Santee and Pedee, down to the sea coast, were now (excepting Harrison's party on Lynch's creek) either ready or preparing to join Gen. Marion. Many had already served under him, within the lines of the British or tories, and submitted to all the subsequent losses; which although the more to their credit, it is now much to be regretted, that they cannot be particularized. As to the people of old Cheraw district, above the line designated, and especially on the Pedee, they were at this time under their leader Gen. Thomas, waging an exterminating warfare with the tories on their borders; which still remains, and it is more than probable ever will remain, unrecorded.

From Benbow's ferry, Gen. Marion's first expedition was planned against Georgetown. The formidable enemy he had nearly encountered, had not diminished his energies. Georgetown, at that period, and afterwards, was often the point to which his views were directed; since it was there only he expected to take the supplies of ammunition, clothing and salt, which he sorely wanted. To expedite his scheme he crossed Black river, at Potato ferry, a retired place, and proceeded on towards Georgetown by the Gap way.—Three miles from the town there is a swamp called White's bay,* which discharges itself by two mouths, the one into Black river, the other into Sampit, thus insulating the town. Over the one, which empties itself into Sampit, there is a bridge, two miles from Georgetown, called White's bridge. Back of these swamps, Gen. Marion took his stand, near a place called the Camp, above the bridge. Here he despatched Col. P. Horry towards the Black river, and Capt. John Melton to the Sampit road, both leading into the town, to reconnoitre. At White's plantation, Horry fell in with Capt. Merritt, who, with a few dragoons, was escorting a couple of ladies from Georgetown; Merritt, after defending himself bravely, escaped and gave the alarm. Melton, unfortunately, came in contact with a party of tories, under Barefield, much larger than his own, who were patroling near the bridge. A few shots were exchanged, and Melton was compelled to retreat. But in this short affair Gabriel Marion, nephew of the general, had his horse killed under him, and was taken prisoner; but as soon as his name was announced, he was inhumanely shot. The instrument of death was planted so near that it burnt his linen at the breast. He had been a lieutenant in the second regiment, was a young gentleman of good education, of whom high expectations were formed, and who was much beloved in the brigade. As the general had no children, he mourned over this nephew, as would a father over an only son; but he soon recollected that he had an example to set, and shortly after publicly expressed this consolation for himself—that his nephew was a virtuous young man—that he had fallen in the cause of his country, and he would mourn over him no more. At the same time Mr. Swaineau, a worthy man, was killed. Ere this, he had exercised the peaceful profession of a schoolmaster; but finding there was no employment for him in these perilous times, he had boldly shouldered the musket, and died a soldier. But so prone are mankind to pass over the merits of this most useful class of men, that had he not fallen by the side of a Marion, perhaps his memory would have been forgotten. About the same time, Mr. Bentley, another schoolmaster, was killed in action. The suspension of all public education, which led to the fate of such men, and the discontinuance of all religious worship, hereafter more particularly noticed, are striking instances of the calamitous state of the country during this period.

* Inland swamps in the lower and middle country are called Bays, from their natural growth, which is the bay tree, a name sufficiently appropriate.

The British in Georgetown being now alarmed, Gen. Marion's wise scheme to surprise them was frustrated; and he retired to Snow's island. This island became henceforth the most constant place of his encampment; a secure retreat, a depot for his arms and ammunition; and, under similar pressures, a second Athelney, from which he might sally out upon the modern, but no less ferocious plunderers than their ancestors, the Danes. Snow's island, not quite so marshy as was the retreat of the great Alfred, lies at the confluence of Lynch's creek and the Pedee. On the east flows the Pedee; on the west Clark's creek, a navigable stream, issuing from Lynch's creek above; and on the north lies Lynch's creek, nearly choked up by rafts of logs, but wide and deep. The island is high river swamp, and large, of itself affording much provision and live stock, as did all the Pedee river swamp at that day. In places, there were open cultivated lands on the island; but it was much covered by thick woods and cane brakes; it was also near to Ganey's party of tories; and by crossing the river, and marching two or three hours, Marion could forage in an enemy's country. All these advantages were well suited to the views of such a leader as Gen. Marion; and the reader is to bear in mind that such was the kind of swamps he commonly occupied. Reinforcements were now coming in to him daily, and his party began at this time to assume the appearance and force of a brigade. He lay here to receive them, and to repose his men, and horses; which, from the time he left the White marsh until he halted at Snow's island, had passed over at least three hundred and sixty miles, in rapid marches and counter marches, made principally in the night. Marion now kept out a strict watch upon the enemy. About this time, Lieut. Roger Gordon was sent out with a party, to patrole on Lynch's creek, and stopped at a house for provisions and refreshments. While there, he was attacked by Capt. Butler with a much larger party of tories, who having succeeded in making good his approaches to the house, set it on fire. Gordon then capitulated on a promise of quarters; but no sooner had his party grounded their arms, than they were all put to death. Not long after, Col. Kalb, Mr. Thomas Evans and some others, were murdered by Gibson, a coloured man, and his party of tories, in a manner still more shocking to humanity. In the dead of night, Kalb's own house was surrounded, and set on fire; he, his wife, and family, and some neighbours were in it, and in bed, when awaking, they sued for quarters. Gibson promised that they should not be hurt, if they surrendered; but as soon as the men had passed out into the light of the conflagration, they were all shot. We have some time since mentioned the murder of the two Bradleys, and others, on Lynch's Creek, and lately that of Gabriel Marion. Such provocations were no longer to be borne. Henceforth, there commenced such a bloody warfare between the whigs and tories, as is seldom recorded in the annals of even civil commotion.* Besides the provocations mentioned, when a tory was taken prisoner, there were no means of securing him, and he commonly soon made his escape, and thereafter became a guide to his associates. It was not so with whigs who were made prisoners, for they could be sent to Georgetown or Camden. But now, seldom were prisoners made on either side, and if made, that was no security for their lives: they were sure to be put to death, either openly or privately, by a few infuriated men, who could be subjected to no subordination. Enough is said. Let the rest be buried in oblivion.

* Bella, plus quam civilia; bella, nullos habitura triumphos.

At and near Snow's island, Gen. Marion secured what boats he wanted; and burnt those more remote. To prevent the approach of an enemy, he fell upon a plan of insulating as much as possible the country under his command. For this purpose he broke down bridges, and felled trees across causeways and difficult passes. As there was no market in that day, and the vicinity of a road was dangerous, the inhabitants aided him much in this design. History furnishes innumerable instances of the good effect of such a system of defensive warfare. His scouting parties moved principally in the night, and in all directions, and to whatever course they turned an enemy was easily found. The British had posts at Nelson's ferry, Scott's lake, and Georgetown; and the tories on Lynch's creek, and Little Pedee, were more numerous, but not so well directed as Marion's party.

Col. P. Horry and Maj. John Postell, with detachments, were posted, the first on Waccamaw creek, the second on the neck between Black and Pedee rivers, with orders to take all boats and canoes, and all horses, from friends or foes; to impress negroes as boat hands and pioneers, to seize all arms and ammunition, to prevent provisions from being sent to the enemy in Georgetown, and to send up as much rice and salt to Snow's island, as possible. (30th Dec. 1780.) All who would not join them were to be taken prisoners, and all who supplied the enemy with stock, or grain, were to be treated as traitors. Thus martial law was fully established, and, for self defence, never was it more necessary. When Gen. Marion himself, or any of his parties, left the island on an expedition, they almost invariably struck into the woods towards the heads of the larger water courses, and crossed them near their source; and if in haste, they swam over them. Many of the general's trails remained for a long time after, and some are now roads. When it is said hereafter that Gen. Marion crossed a river, for instance the Santee, it is not to be understood that he stopped, like Caesar at the Rhine, to build a bridge over it; or that he was provided with the convenient modern apparatus of pontoons, or oftentimes with a common flat; even the last would have been too slow for the usual rapidity of his motions. He seldom waited for more than a single canoe, along side of which his sorrel horse Ball,* was usually led into the river, and he floated over like an amphibious animal. The rest of the horses soon learned to follow instinctively. Where a canoe was not to be had, the general swam over frequently on the back of this uncommon horse. No leader, in ancient or modern times, ever passed rivers with more rapidity. His plans were laid, and his movements conducted, with the most uncommon secrecy. After making a movement, his most confidential officers and men have had to search for him for days together, perhaps without finding him. His scouts, when returning, and at a loss, used a loud and shrill whistle, as a signal; which could be heard in the night to an astonishing distance. It is well described in Scott's Lady of the Lake:

——"He whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag, the signal flew."

* He was taken from Capt. Ball, at Black Mingo.

As an instance of the secrecy with which Gen. Marion's plans were always adopted and conducted, the following may be regarded as a specimen in his progress throughout. His men having been several times unexpectedly led out upon long expeditions, without preparation, and suffering for the want of food on such occasions, after some time, were in the habit of watching his cook, and if they saw him unusually busied in preparing any of the frugal fare then in use, they prepared accordingly. The general's favourite time for moving was at the sitting sun, and then it was expected the march would continue all night. But the present time, and afterwards, before striking any sudden blow, he has been known to march sixty or seventy miles, without taking any other refreshment, than a meal of cold potatoes and a drink of cold water, in twenty-four hours. During this period men were but badly clothed in homespun, which afforded little warmth. They slept in the open air, according to their means, either with or without a blanket. They had nothing but water to drink. They fed chiefly upon sweet potatoes, either with or without fresh beef. And they submitted to this without a murmur; but all sighed for salt! for salt! that first article of necessity for the human race. Little do the luxurious of the present day know of the pressure of such a want. Salt was now ten silver dollars the bushel, when brought more than thirty miles from the Waccamaw sea shore, where it was coarsely manufactured. It was harder to get one silver dollar then, than ten now; so that on a low calculation, a bushel of coarse bay salt, sold at that time for one hundred dollars value of the present day. As soon as Gen. Marion could collect a sufficient quantity of this desirable article at Snow's island, he distributed it out in quantities, not exceeding a bushel to each whig family; and thus endeared himself the more to his followers.

Thus closed the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty, over the head of Gen. Marion. We will leave him for a moment, to such repose as the island afforded, and state some matters to carry on the chain of events.

On the 12th July, General Sumter commenced his brilliant career. On the west of the Catawba, he defeated a large party of tories, and a party of British, and killed Col. Ferguson, who commanded the former, and Capt. Huck, at the head of the latter. This man had shocked the good Presbyterians in that part of the country by his profanity; he burnt their church, their parsonage, and their bibles, and treated them with insult and cruelty. About the 30th July, Gen. Sumter nearly annihilated the Prince of Wales' regiment, and routed a large body of tories at the Hanging rock.—Soon after the defeat of Gates, the enemy was left at liberty to turn a greater force upon Sumter, and his men, being worn down by fatigue and want of sleep, he was surprised and defeated at Fishing creek, by Tarleton, but with little loss, for he rallied his forces in three days after.* On the 12th Nov. Major Wemyss attempted to surprise him near the Fishdam ford, on Broad river, at the head of a corps of infantry and dragoons. Col. Thomas Taylor, with his regiment, was posted in advance, and his men lay securely at their fires, thinking the enemy at a distance. But the colonel, from what has been termed a presentiment, was uneasy and could not rest; he got up, and hearing the barking of dogs and some other unusual noises, he woke up his men, and removed them back from their fires. Soon after, the British appeared at them, and thus offered themselves to the aim of experienced marksmen. In the mean time Sumter came up to their aid, and the enemy was totally defeated. Major Wemyss was severely wounded and taken. He had in his pocket a list of the houses he had burnt at Williamsburgh and Pedee; with great trepidation he showed it to Sumter, and begged he would protect him from the militia.—Notwithstanding his atrocities he was treated with indulgence; but became a cripple for life. On the 20th of the same month Sumter was attacked by Col. Tarleton, at Black Stocks. The action was severe, and of the British officers, Major Money, and Lieuts. Gibson and Cape, were killed. Sumter lost few men, but he was himself wounded. The ball passed through the shoulder and carried away a small portion of the backbone. He was placed in a raw bullock's hide, fastened between two horses, and thus carried with a guard of five men to the mountains.

* Notwithstanding the bruit made in history about this defeat of Sumter, the author can re-assert, and from written evidence now before him, that Sumter was in three days at the head of a very respectable force. This was not obtained by any communication from the general, but by an investigation of dates.

Tarleton, as usual, sent an account of his victory, much exaggerated, to Lord Cornwallis, who writes to him on the 22d of the same month: "I most heartily wish you joy of your success, but wish it had not cost you so much." And again, on the next day: "I shall be very glad to hear that Sumter is in a condition to give us no further trouble; he certainly has been our greatest plague in this country." The inhabitants of the New Acquisition, now York district, were among the warm friends of Gen. Sumter; it was among these people he generally recruited his forces. They never submitted to the British nor took protection. The most distinguished leaders, under Sumter, were Colonels Niel, Hill, Lacey, Winn, Bratton, Brandon, and Majors Davie and Winn. Davie commanded a corps of cavalry, which was never surprised nor dispersed during the war.

In the summer of 1780, Col. Ferguson, of the British 71st, had undertaken to visit the tory settlements in the upper country, and train up the young men to arms. Among these several unprincipled people had joined him, and acted with their usual propensity for rapine and murder. Many Americans, fleeing before them, passed over into the state of Tennessee, then beginning to be settled. By their warm representations, they roused the spirit of the people of that country, which has since become so often conspicuous. Although safe from any enemy but the savages of their cane brakes, they left their families, and generously marched to the assistance of their friends. Nine hundred of them mounted, under the command of Col. Campbell, poured down from the Allegany, like the torrents from its summit. Gunpowder they had already learnt to prepare from the saltpetre in their caves, and lead they dug out of their mines. Dried venison satisfied their hunger, pure water slaked their thirst, and at the side of a rock they enjoyed comfortable repose. Armed with rifles, sure to the white speck on the target, at the distance of one hundred paces, or to decapitate the wild turkey on the top of the tallest pine—these were indeed a formidable band. Their other leaders were Shelby, Sevier, Williams and Cleveland, all inured to the pursuit of the savage or the wild beast of the forest. Thus equipped and commanded, and with such few wants, they moved rapidly on to attack Ferguson, a no less formidable foe, and on the 7th of October, 1780, reached him, strongly posted on King's mountain. Campbell divided his men into three bands, one under himself, one under Cleveland, and the other under Shelby.—Cleveland commenced the attack, and fired until Ferguson, advancing sufficiently near, ordered the British to charge with bayonets; before these he retired. By this time Shelby had ascended the mountain, and gave an unexpected and deadly fire. The bayonet had scarcely been again successful, when Campbell reached the summit and fired in another and more destructive volley. Ferguson presented a new front, and the bayonet again prevailed. But Cleveland had rallied his men and poured in the fourth fire: and now as often as one American party was driven back, another returned to the attack, and as victory was becoming sure, with more determined resolution. The unconquerable spirit of Ferguson still refused to submit, but baited thus, as he was on all sides, resistance became vain. At length this distinguished officer received a mortal wound, and falling upon the field, his second in command, Capt. Abraham De Peyster, sued for quarters. Eleven hundred of the enemy were killed, wounded or taken, of which one hundred were British. The Americans lost but few men, but among these were Col. Williams and Major Chronicle. Thus, through the successes of Sumter and Marion, and this brilliant achievement, towards the close of this memorable year the drooping spirits of the people began to revive, and men flocked on all sides to the standard of their country.

*****

Detached Narratives for 1780.

As these are intended to be unconnected, and entirely miscellaneous, they will be inserted without much regard to time or place. We have just recorded the fate of the distinguished Ferguson, and the first meed of praise is due to him. Yes! reader, praise to a generous enemy! He was a major, and commanded a rifle corps during the campaign of Washington, in New Jersey. On one occasion Gen. Washington rode out with a few French and American officers to reconnoitre, and Ferguson, with his riflemen, lay in a wood near to the road by which they both went and returned. Washington was conspicuous from his stature, and uniform, and the grey horse which he rode. He passed hard by the corps, at an easy canter, and Ferguson's men were preparing to fire upon him, when their leader prevented the act. Who would not hereafter applaud the character of Ferguson? In a letter which he wrote to a friend, that contains this narrative, he mentions he was glad he did not know it was Gen. Washington at the time, lest he should have been tempted to fire at him. But the same generous spirit which prevented it in the one case, would, it is more than probable, have actuated him in the other.

The next meed of praise is certainly due to friendship. In this action the hon. Robert Stark, then a boy of fourteen, was among the American combatants. Like a war worn veteran he was seen firing his rifle and encouraging others to the onset. It was here that, actuated by the cause of his country, and the rigourous confinement of his father in irons, he first avenged himself of the enemy. His next battle was at the Cowpens, where he acted as an adjutant under Gen. Pickens.

During the time General Marion lay at the White marsh, Capt. Gavin Witherspoon, of Pedee, with three or four men, were concealing themselves in Pedee swamp: in the night he discovered a camp of the tories, whom he had reason to think were in pursuit of him, and watched them till they had all fallen asleep; he proposed to his men to attack them, but they were fearful of numbers. He then declared he would take them himself. Creeping up cautiously, he found that they had encamped at the butt of a pine, blown up by the roots, and that their guns were piled up against a limb, at the distance of forty or fifty feet from them. He continued to creep till he got possession of their guns, and then called to them loudly to surrender. Not knowing his force, they did so, and Witherspoon's men came to his assistance and tied them, in number seven. Gavin, and John Witherspoon, his brother, were two active spirited men at this period. They succeeded each other as captains in the neck between Pedee and Lynch's creek; and at the call of danger were generally foremost. After Capt. Baxter was promoted to be major, Thomas Potts was elected captain of the upper Pedee company; he had been captain in the rifle regiment of state troops, and was a brave soldier and firm patriot.

Major Wemyss, in laying waste the country, was particularly inimical to looms and sheep; no doubt that he might deprive the inhabitants of the means of clothing themselves. What sheep he did not kill for the use of his men, he ordered to be bayoneted. He burnt the Presbyterian church at Indiantown; because, as he said, it was a sedition shop. Before a house was burnt, permission was seldom given to remove the furniture. When he came to Maj. James' he was met by his lady with much composure. He wished to bring her husband to submission, and said to her, "If he would come in and lay down his arms, he should have a free pardon." She replied, "As to that she could not have any influence over him. That times were such he was compelled to take a part, and he had taken that of his country." Wemyss after this had her and her children locked up in a chamber, from whence they did not come out, for two days and a half; and until the house was about to be burnt. Capt. David Campbell (of Edisto,) carried with his own hands, food and other refreshments to a back window for her, apparently unknown to Wemyss. Capt. John James, son of the major, had been taken in Charleston, and paroled. He was ordered into custody, with the threat, that "If he was found to have broken his parole, he would be hanged in the morning to yonder tree." Accordingly a court martial sat over him in the morning. The witnesses called were his own and his father's negroes; but, strange to tell, no evidence was given against him, and he was acquitted. Such were the mock trials of the British. As, when we come to speak of the battle of Eutaw, there will be many chiefs of higher title to be named, it is but justice to Capt. James now to mention, that before that time he was exchanged, and fought there with much bravery, as an adjutant. As there was no trade or intercourse between that part of the country and a market, people were to be seen, after the fires, searching for every thing they could find, knife blades, scissors, hinges, nails, &c. Handles were put to the knives, dishes and plates were rudely manufactured out of wood, and log huts were gradually built by the assistance of one another. Many negroes were taken out of Williamsburgh; these were afterwards recovered by Maj. James. Directly after the retreat of Rawdon from Camden, he, at the head of five or six men, passed through the country from Santee to an island near Beaufort, where he found and brought away one hundred and fifty, all plundered from his own neighbourhood. This account has been inserted here, that the chain of events might not hereafter be broken.

It is stated, (page 45,*) that Col. Tarleton took Mr. James Bradley prisoner; the manner in which this was done, and the subsequent treatment of Bradley, are well deserving a place in this narrative. After being chased from his breakfast, thirteen miles below, by M'Cottry, Tarleton and a few officers came to Bradley's at midday, passed himself as Col. Washington, and requested an early dinner. Bradley provided dinner for him, and unsuspectingly communicated to him the plans of his countrymen. After dinner, Tarleton asked him to guide him over two difficult fords across two branches of Black river, near his house; Bradley consented, and after they had passed Magirt's swamp, Tarleton told him he was a prisoner. A wild Arab would not have treated him thus. Bradley, though circumvented in this manner, was a wise but unsuspicious man; and before that had much influence in the legislature. He was sent to Camden gaol, and confined in heavy irons; he was often carted to the gallows and saw others executed; he expected death, and was prepared for it; but he had many friends in Marion's brigade, and it was well known to the enemy that his execution would have been severely retaliated. He was not released from gaol until the 10th of May the next year, when Rawdon retreated from Camden; and he bore the marks of the irons until his death. Being requested, on one occasion he showed these to the author, then a youth, and said, "If the good of your country requires the sacrifice, be ready to suffer imprisonment and death in its cause." Soon after his confinement, Mrs. Bradley petitioned Tarleton to liberate her husband, but he treated her with scurrilous language and great brutality. This man, who had been treated by Mrs. Bradley to a plentiful meal, after he had fasted for twenty-four hours, and when he and his followers were fainting with fatigue and want, had now the impudence and cruelty to call her by the grossest names in the vocabulary of bilingsgate. Mrs. Bradley! one of the most humane, gentle and affectionate of her sex, who would willingly have offered him bread in his true character. Tarleton even denied her admittance with her supplies to her husband; and she sought and obtained it elsewhere.

* Chapter II Paragraph 8.—A. L.

To people of good feelings, but particularly the religious, this period (1780 and 1781) was truly distressing. From the time of the fall of Charleston, all public education was at an end, and soon after, all public worship was discontinued. Men from sixty years of age, down to boys of fourteen, (few of whom dared to stay at home) were engaged in active and bloody warfare. These had their minds in constant occupation, which, in whatever moral situation a man may be placed, brings with it a certain degree of satisfaction, if not contentment. All were actuated by the love of country, and but few by the love of fame: and next to the duties of religion, the exercise of those of patriotism excites the highest energy and brings the most sublime satisfaction to the human mind. But to the female sex, and the superannuated of the male, little consolation of that nature could be afforded. Even these were exposed to that kind of danger which might be inflicted by brutality at home, and most of them had relatives in the field to whom they were bound by the most tender and sacred ties, who were subjected to constant dangers, and for whose fate they were unceasingly anxious.—There was no place for the pleasures of society, for in the country these were too remote from a home that must constantly be watched. As a comfort in this situation females employed themselves in domestic occupations, in which that of the distaff had a considerable share, and all might indeed have exercised their private devotions; but that faint picture of heaven, that sweet consolation which is derived from associating with one's friends in public worship, was wholly denied them. Most of the churches in towns and the country, were either burnt or made depots for the stores of the enemy; some in fact were converted into stables; and of the remainder, all in the country were closed.—In a warfare of such atrocity there was little safety in any situation where numbers were collected, and as we have seen that the tories, by their murders, violated the sanctity of private dwellings, how then could it be expected they would be awed by the holiness of a church? In a camp, where was no permanency and but little rest, there was no place for chaplains,* and at home there was not security even for pious pastors; consequently, as the most prudent course, they generally went into exile. Among these one shall be mentioned, the Rev. Dr. Thomas Reese, of Salem, on Black river. It was in his congregation that the murders perpetrated by Harrison and his followers first began, and three respectable men of his flock had already fallen victims to civil rage. Had he gone about to administer comfort out of his own family, it would have been termed sedition, and Dr. Reese would have made himself a voluntary martyr. He took the wiser course of retiring with his family before the storm, and under many privations, continued to preach. In theology, modern philosophy, and all the sciences connected with his profession he was deeply read. For classic literature, which it is so common for the superficial to decry, he was a great advocate, and to evince his sincerity retained his knowledge of the dead languages as long as he lived. In his discourses he was neither an extempore preacher, nor did he read. He wrote out his sermons correctly, and then committing them carefully to memory, left the copy at home, and afterwards delivered them from the pulpit with all the energy of extemporary preaching, and so tenacious was his memory that he was never known to faulter. He wrote many excellent sermons, all of which except two, preserved in the American Preacher, and those not his best, are believed to be lost. He also wrote an essay "on the influence of religion in civil society", which, from Princeton college, where he was educated, obtained for him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. But like most American productions, it was soon neglected, and did not pass into a second edition. In contemplating the meek and unobtrusive virtues of this pious man, we do not hesitate to say he was a pattern of Christian charity, as nearly resembling his divine master as has been seen in modern times. The author knew him well for several years after the peace of 1782; he was his friend and tutor, and he owes to Dr. Reese the highest obligations, and to his memory the most profound respect.

* Marion was often without a surgeon to dress his wounded, and if a wound reached an artery the patient bled to death.



Chapter III. CAMPAIGN OF 1781.

The year 1781 commenced under auspices more propitious than those of the last year. The British had exercised so much oppression and rapacity over all those who would not join them, and so much insolence over those who did, and were in the least suspected, that the people of South Carolina found there was no alternative but between a state of downright vassalage and warfare. Most of the men of principle already had, or were prepared to take up arms against the enemy, and in general the unprincipled only remained with them in the expectation of plunder. Their army too, being divided into different cantonments over the country, while it extended their oppression, exposed their weakness. The history of all ages shows that a country may be overrun with more facility than kept in a state of subjection, and that a partisan warfare is the best that can be carried on against an enemy of superior force and discipline.

During the present winter Lord Cornwallis formed a design of conquering the upper counties of North Carolina, and marched by the way of Charlotte towards Salisbury, for that purpose. This part of the country was thickly covered with underwood, and settled by a hardy race of industrious yeomanry, all friends of their country. He was fired upon from behind bushes and fences, trees and rocks, by companies in ambush, and individuals on foot and on horseback, and was so much annoyed that he was obliged to retreat back to Winnsborough. The news of this expedition was industriously spread abroad, and encouraged the people of South Carolina to follow the example. In the mean time, Gen. Gates had been superceded in the command of the southern army by Gen. Greene.

With the character of this leader it is intended to make the reader better acquainted than he has been heretofore. His command begun with a good omen, which in all times has had its effect. In a few hours after his arrival in camp at Charlotte, he received the news that Col. Washington had taken Rugely and one hundred men, by the well known stratagem of mounting a pine log over against his block house, which he mistook for a field piece.* Gen. Greene had not only no more than one thousand continentals and about as many militia, but was also bare of ammunition and clothing, and had no money to pay them. With this force he marched down to Pedee, in South Carolina, and took a position near Hick's creek, on the east side of the river, not many miles from Chatham. From this place his first despatch to Gen. Marion is dated, the 19th Jan. 1781, in which he says, "by the last accounts, Lieut. Col. Tarleton was in motion, with about one thousand troops, towards Gen. Morgan." On the 23d Jan. Gen. Greene congratulates Marion on Morgan's victory over Tarleton, and writes him the particulars. On the 25th he says, "before this I hope you have received the agreeable news of the defeat of Lieut. Col. Tarleton. After this nothing will appear difficult."

* This was the same Rugely who behaved so generously to Governor Rutledge. It seems Lord Cornwallis intended to have promoted him, but after this affair he wrote to Tarleton, "Rugely will not be made a brigadier."

As the defeat of Tarleton at the Cowpens has been related by many American writers, whose works are generally read, the account of the renowned chief himself, who was unexpectedly foiled, and which is now out of print, will be extracted for the amusement of the historical reader. "Near the end of the last year, (1780) information had been received by Lord Cornwallis, that Gen. Greene had made a division of his troops, which did not exceed fourteen hundred men, exclusive of militia, and that he had committed the light infantry and Col. Washington's cavalry to Gen. Morgan, with directions to pass the Catawba and Broad rivers, to collect the militia, and threaten Ninety-Six. It is not to be supposed Gen. Greene would have adopted the hazardous plan of dividing his forces, if he had received information of Gen. Leslie's command being withdrawn from Virginia, and united to the force in South Carolina; because such an accession of strength would produce a movement from Winnsborough (where Cornwallis then lay,) and might separate the two divisions of the American army, and endanger their safety. To attain this object, (the separation of the two divisions of the American army,) Col. Tarleton was now detached from the main army of Lord Cornwallis, and was to be supported by his lordship, and Gen. Leslie as soon as he arrived; with orders to push Morgan to the utmost. Tarleton's force was his corps of cavalry and infantry of five hundred and fifty men; the first battalion of the 71st, of two hundred men; two hundred men of the 7th regiment, new recruits; and fifty dragoons of the 17th regiment—total one thousand men. Morgan retreated before Tarleton till the commanding officer in front of the British reported the American troops were halted and forming. (17th Jan.) Lieut. Col. Tarleton, having obtained a position he certainly might deem advantageous, did not hesitate to undertake the measures his commander and his own judgment recommended. He ordered the legion dragoons to drive in the militia, that Morgan's disposition might be inspected. The American commander had formed a front line of about one thousand militia; his reserve of five hundred continental infantry, one hundred and twenty of Washington's cavalry, and three hundred back woodsmen. Tarleton ordered his infantry to disencumber themselves of every thing except arms and ammunition, to file to the right, till they became equal to the flank of the American front line; the legion infantry were added to their left, and under the fire of a three pounder they were to advance within three hundred yards of the enemy. This situation being acquired, the 7th regiment was commanded to form on the left of the legion infantry, and the other three pounder was given to its right. A captain with fifty dragoons, was placed on each flank. The first battalion of the 71st extended to the left of the 7th, one hundred and fifty yards in the rear, and composed, with two hundred cavalry, the reserve.

"The animation of the officers and soldiers promised assurances of success. The troops moved in as good line as troops could move, at open files. The militia, after a short contest, were dislodged. The British approached the continentals, and the fire on both sides produced much slaughter. The cavalry on the right were ordered to charge the enemy's left, and executed the order with great gallantry, but were driven back by the reserve and Col. Washington's cavalry. As the contest between the British infantry and continentals was equally balanced, Tarleton brought the 71st into line, and ordered a movement in reserve to threaten the enemy's right flank. Upon the advance of the 71st all the infantry again moved on; the continentals and back woodsmen gave ground; the British rushed forwards; an order was despatched to the cavalry to charge; an unexpected fire at this instant from the Americans who came about, stopped the British and threw them into confusion. Exertions to make them advance were useless. The part of the cavalry which had not been engaged, fell likewise into disorder, and an unaccountable panic extended along the whole line. The Americans advanced and augmented their astonishment. A general flight ensued. Neither promises nor threats could gain attention. All attempts to restore order, recollection or courage proved fruitless. Two hundred dragoons forsook their leader, fourteen officers and forty horsemen were, however, not unmindful of their own reputation, or their commanding officer. Col. Washington's cavalry were charged and driven back into the continental infantry by this handful of brave men. Another party who had seized upon the baggage were dispersed, and this detachment retired towards Broad river unmolested. The number of the killed and wounded at the Cowpens, amounted to near three hundred on both sides, officers and men inclusive; this loss was almost equally shared. But the Americans took two pieces of cannon, the colours of the 7th regiment, and near four hundred prisoners." Thus far Col. Tarleton. Gen. Moultrie received his account of this action of the Cowpens "from an officer of great veracity and high rank, who was conspicuous on that day;" supposed to be Col. Washington. The substance of his account shall now be given; that the two may be compared. Gen. Morgan drew up his men in an open pine barren, the militia of about four hundred men, under Col. Pickens, formed the first line. The continentals of about five hundred men, two hundred of whom were raw troops, formed the second line, under Col. Howard, two hundred yards in the rear. Col. Washington, with seventy-five continental cavalry, and forty-five militia under Capt. M'Call, in the rear. Pickens ordered his men to reserve their fire till the enemy came within fifty yards, which they did, and fired with great success; but they were soon obliged to give way and retreat behind the second line, which received them warmly; at length the second line began to give way. Col. Washington, perceiving this, rode up to their rear with his cavalry, and told Howard, "if he would rally his men and charge the enemy's line, he would charge the cavalry who were cutting down the militia." His riding so close to the rear stopped the British, and Howard rallied his men in the mean time, and charged with fixed bayonets. Col. Washington charged the cavalry and routed them; the militia at the same time recovered themselves and began to fire, and the whole threw the enemy into the utmost confusion. Howard called out to them, "to lay down their arms and they should have good quarters." Upwards of five hundred men threw down their arms and surrendered. Two hundred were left dead on the field, and a great number wounded. Besides the two field pieces mentioned by Tarleton, six hundred men, eight hundred stand of arms, and thirty-five baggage waggons, fell into the hands of the Americans. Col. Washington pursued the British cavalry twenty-five miles."

By this last account the disparity in numbers was not great, and as one half the Americans were either militia or new levies, the superiority was on the side of Tarleton, whose men, except two hundred, were veterans, and he had two field pieces. The ground too he acknowledges was advantageous; so that every thing was in his favour, but an agency which he could not control. But in the last account we can find no place where he and his handful of brave men could encounter Col. Washington. In his bewildered fancy perhaps it was some other object he encountered, since for the space of five and twenty miles, not their faces, but only their backs were to be seen. The fact is, that never was victory more complete, never was vanity more humbled, nor cruelty more justly requited than in the defeat of this tyrannical man. Its first effect was to raise the spirits of the people; its ultimate consequence was the downfall of Cornwallis and peace to the country. But most severe trials are yet to be surmounted, and patriotism the most exemplary remains yet to be recorded.

On the day the last letter of Greene, of the 23d Jan. was written, Gen. Marion and Col. Lee projected a joint expedition to surprise Georgetown. Capts. Carnes and Rudulph, with ninety men, dropped down the Pedee from Snow's island in a boat, to fall in on the back of the town by Winyaw bay, while Marion and Lee were to come down with the main body by land.—Carnes with his party went ashore at Mitchell's landing, and marched over his rice-field bank into the town at day light. The surprise would have been complete, had they pushed up directly to the redoubt, but they delayed too long on the Bay. They took the commandant, Col. Campbell, out of his bed, and killed Major Irvine and some others; but Marion and Lee could not arrive in time to cooperate. The redoubt was alarmed and placed in a state of defence, and Carnes was obliged to retreat. The great cause of delay was the inclination to take the commandant, by which they lost the fort and the town. Lieut. Cryer killed Irvine, by whose orders he had received five hundred lashes some time before, for attempting to take away his horse from Georgetown.

On the 28th Jan. Gen. Huger transmitted an order from Greene to Marion, to strike at the posts beyond Santee. But this Gen. Marion had anticipated.—From Cordes' plantation, in advance, at the distance of one hundred miles from Greene, and on the 29th Jan. he had detached Col. Postell and Major Postell on this important service. The latter had but thirty-eight men, and it is presumed from circumstances, the colonel had about an equal number. The colonel burnt a great quantity of valuable stores at Manigault's ferry, and the major a great many more in its vicinity.—Thence the latter posted to Keithfield, near Monk's corner, and burnt fourteen waggons loaded with soldiers' clothing, baggage and other valuable stores, and took prisoners about forty British regulars, without losing a man. To the Postells "nothing indeed appeared difficult." They received the thanks of Gen. Greene.

About the beginning of this year, Gen. Marion appointed two aids, Thomas Elliott and Lewis Ogier, the first of whom conducted the most of his correspondence. He formed a mess of which Col. Hugh Horry and Col. James Postell were inmates, and apparently his principal counsellors; Serjt. Davis was his caterer, and supplied his dinners, such as they were: heretofore he had seldom any thing but meat and sweet potatoes, and often not both of these at a time, but now he had the luxury of rice. He did what was of more consequence than this, he put in requisition all the saws in the country, and all the blacksmiths, and made swords for four troops of militia cavalry.—He had so little ammunition this expedient was necessary. He gave the command of this corps to Col. Peter Horry, who had been a captain with him in the second regiment and had been an excellent infantry officer.—His major was Benson, and his captains John Baxter, John Postell, Daniel Conyers and James M'Cauley; John T. Greene soon after succeeded Baxter, who was appointed colonel on the resignation of Ervine. Hugh Horry had command of M'Donald's regiment, who was a prisoner on parole, and his officers have been mentioned. Capt. Wm. M'Cottry commanded a company of riflemen who were the dread of the enemy. As the brigade was not strong enough for this corps of horse to act in conjunction, single troops were commonly detached by the general. At the head of a party of this cavalry Col. Peter Horry had soon an opportunity to make a trial of his skill in cavalry evolutions. He met and charged a troop of British horse on Waccamaw neck, but by his own account he appears to have been rather worsted, for he was unhorsed himself and his life saved by Serjt. M'Donald; however he brought off some prisoners. Major John Postell, who was mentioned before, was stationed to guard the lower part of Pedee, had better fortune. On the 18th Jan. Capt. James Depeyster, with twenty-nine grenadiers of the British army, had posted himself in the dwelling house of the major's father, and Postell commanded but twenty-eight militia men. Towards day on the morning after, the major, by knowing well the ground and avoiding the sentinels, got possession of the kitchen, and summoned Depeyster to surrender; this was at first refused, and the major set fire to the kitchen. He then summoned him a second time, with the positive declaration if he did not surrender he would burn the house; the British being intimidated, laid down their arms and surrendered unconditionally.

From a part of the correspondence of Gen. Marion with Capt. Saunders, now commandant of Georgetown, it appears that he had either soon after the 17th Jan. or before that, imprisoned Mr. John Postell, the father of the major; Gen. Marion offers "to exchange him, and hopes humanity will induce Capt. Saunders to treat him like a gentleman."* Mr. John Postell was at least seventy years of age, and much afflicted with disease, but possessed the spirit of a Cato.

* Marion's letter, 22d February.

Soon after this, Col. Peter Horry had a conflict with Major Ganey at White's bridge, near Georgetown, which had a more decisive effect than could have been expected at the time. Early in the morning he made a charge upon a party who were killing beeves at the camp near that place. They fled and were pursued through the woods on the left towards Georgetown, with some disorder on the side of Horry. In the mean time the firing was heard in the town, and their tory friends came out to their assistance. A kind of savage warfare now took place in the woods, between the Sampit and Black river roads, during the whole morning. A party of Horry's was at one time seen advancing, and the tories retreating; then again the tories were advancing, and a party of Horry's retreating. At one time the commander was left as he thought alone, and Capt. Lewis at the head of a party was rushing on to shoot him down, when suddenly from behind a tree off went the gun of a boy by the name of Gwyn, and shot Lewis, whose party thinking more guns were behind trees ran away. As Lewis fell his gun went off and killed Horry's horse. Finally the tories were routed. In this affair Serjt. M'Donald performed essential service; he had singled out Ganey as his object of attack, and the latter fled from him.—In going at full speed down the Black river road, at the corner of Richmond fence, M'Donald shot one of Ganey's men, and overtaking him soon after thrust a bayonet up to the hilt in his back; the bayonet separated from the gun, and Ganey carried it into Georgetown; he recovered, but tired of a garrison life, after a few months he and his men deserted the British.

As the navigation of the Wateree river was at that time imperfect, the British were obliged to have most of their stores of rum, salt, ammunition and clothing sent over land, across Nelson's ferry, to Camden, and as the Americans were destitute of these articles, constant conflicts took place upon that road to obtain them from the enemy. To secure these, they had established a line of posts, at Biggen, at Nelson's, and at Scott's lake. Besides this protection, their supplies were always attended by escorts, which, since the enterprizes of the two Postells, seldom consisted of less than three or four hundred men. About the middle of February, Major M'Ilraith was marching from Nelson's ferry at the head of one of these escorts, and Marion with about an equal force assailed him near Halfway swamp, on the road; he first cut off two pickets in his rear in succession, then wheeling round his main body, attacked him in flank and in front. As M'Ilraith had no cavalry, his situation became perilous in the extreme. By a forced march, and constant skirmishing, he at length gained a field upon the road, now belonging to Mr. Matthew James; and as it was open and enclosed, he posted himself on the west of the road, within the enclosure. On the east, skirting the road, there is a large cypress pond stretching towards Halfway swamp, and on the verge of this Marion pitched his camp. Here M'Ilraith sent him a flag, reproaching him with shooting his pickets, contrary, as he alleged, to all the laws of civilized warfare, and defying him to a combat in the open field. Marion replied, that the practice of the British in burning the houses of all who would not submit and join them, was more indefensible than that of shooting pickets, and that as long as they persisted in the one he would persevere in the other. That as to his defiance, he considered it that of a man in desperate circumstances; but if he wished to witness a combat between twenty picked men on each side, he was ready to gratify him. The offer was accepted, and a place pitched upon to the south of an oak tree, which still stands in the field. Accordingly, Gen. Marion appointed Maj. John Vanderhorst, then a supernumerary officer, to take command of this band, and Capt. Samuel Price, of All Saints, to be second in command. The names of the men were written on slips of paper, and presented to them individually, and the first slip was handed to Gavin Witherspoon. Not one refused. Vanderhorst formed in Indian file, and they proceeded to the fence, where Gen. Marion met and harangued them to the following effect: "My brave soldiers! you are twenty men picked this day out of my whole brigade. I know you all, and have often witnessed your bravery. In the name of your country, I call upon you once more to show it. My confidence in you is great, and I am sure it will not be disappointed. Fight like men, fight as you have always done, and you are sure of the victory." This short speech was received with applause by the combatants. Vanderhorst now asked Witherspoon, "What distance would you choose as the surest to strike with buck shot?" "Fifty yards for the first fire," was the reply. Then, said the commander, "when we get within fifty yards, my boys, as I am not a good judge of distances, Mr. Witherspoon will tap me on the shoulder. I will then give the word, and you will form on my left opposite those fellows. As you form, each man will fire at the one directly opposite him, and my word for it, few will be left for a second shot." The British had now formed in a single line in front of the oak, and Vanderhorst advanced boldly on within one hundred yards. At this juncture, an officer was seen to pass swiftly on toward the oak, and the enemy shouldered their muskets and retreated with a quick step towards the main body. Vanderhorst and his men gave them three huzzas! but did not at that distance fire a shot. Thus a British officer was met on his own boasted ground and proved recreant. The next morning Major M'Ilraith abandoned his heavy baggage, left his fires burning, and retired silently from the ground, along the river road towards Singelton's mill, distant ten miles. Near day Marion discovered his movement, and detached Col. Hugh Horry with one hundred men to get ahead of him, before he should reach the mill. The colonel made all possible speed, but finding he could not overtake him, detached Major James at the head of a party mounted on the swiftest horses, to cross the mill pond above, and take possession of Singelton's houses, which stood on a high hill, commanding a narrow defile on the road, between the hill and Wateree swamp. Major James reached the houses as the British advanced to the foot of the hill; but found Singelton's family down with the small pox. This was more dreaded than the enemy. He gave them one fire, by which a captain was killed, and retired. As M'Ilraith was now in a strong hold, Marion pursued him no further.

The character of Major M'Ilraith has been constantly represented by the inhabitants of this state, among whom he passed as the most humane of all the officers of the British army. To those in their power even forbearance was at that time a virtue, but his virtues were active. It has been currently reported that he carried his dislike to house burning so far, that he neglected to carry into effect the orders of his commander in chief on that point to such an extent, as to gain his ill will and that of many other British officers.—How much it is to be regretted that the rigid rules of warfare should have arrayed such a man in opposition to Marion, when both professed the same humane principles.

We come now to the most interesting part of the warfare of Gen. Marion, which, bringing into action all the energies of his officers and men, at the same time developed all the skill and patience of their commander.

At the juncture of the retreat of Gen. Greene before Cornwallis, Sumter and Marion were left alone in South Carolina; Sumter on the Catawba, in York district, and Marion on the Pedee, at Snow's island, about two hundred miles apart, and Lord Rawdon directly between them, with a much superior force. Thus situated his lordship laid a well digested plan to crush Marion. Col. Watson with a British regiment, and Harrison's regiment of tories, amounting in the whole to more than five hundred men, was ordered to march down the Santee, towards Snow's island; and he commenced his expedition from Fort Watson about the first of March.

Shortly after Col. Doyle with another British regiment, was directed to proceed by the way of M'Callum's ferry on Lynch's creek, and down Jeffer's creek, to the Pedee road to the same point, where they were to form a junction. Doyle had to open a road from M'Callum's to Pedee, and his approach, though slow, was unexpected; but Marion's scouts placed from Camden down, with relays of horses, soon informed him of Watson's movement. By one of his rapid marches he met him at Wiboo, about midway between Nelson's and Murray's ferry, and at this swamp commenced his arduous contest with Watson. Col. Peter Horry was placed in advance at the swamp, while the general with the cavalry, and remainder of the brigade, amounting to about four hundred men, lay in reserve. Horry made considerable impression upon the tories in advance; but Watson with two field pieces, and at the head of his column of regulars, dislodged him from the swamp, and the tory cavalry under Harrison pursued. As they advanced, Gavin James, a private of gigantic size and spirit, mounted on a strong grey horse, and armed with a musket and bayonet, threw himself in their way. He first deliberately fired upon the column and one man fell. The causeway was narrow and this occasioned a pause, in which a volley was fired at him without effect. One dragoon advanced and was struck off his horse by the bayonet. A second came to his aid and shared a like fate; in falling he laid hold of the musket near the muzzle to jerk it away, and James dragged him forty or fifty paces. This bold action produced a considerable effect, and was soon followed by many others, not so well recollected, and too numerous to be inserted.—Harrison had not pursued far, when Marion ordered the cavalry to charge; Capts. M'Cauley and Conyers, met him, and soon dispersed his force; whilst Conyers killed one of his officers, said to be Major Harrison, with his own hands. Thus were the tories intimidated at the outset.

On the 9th of March, Col. Watson encamped at Cantey's plantation, and wrote a letter to Gen. Marion, in which he justifies (what the other had complained of by a previous communication,*) the burning of houses and the hanging of those citizens who had taken paroles, and afterwards joined the Americans, upon the principles of the laws of war and nations.—It seems the colonel had reference to the code of barbarous nations. Marion made him no reply, but gave orders to his nightly patroles, to shoot his sentinels and cut off his pickets. Such a retaliation was to be expected; and thus raged the civil warfare.

* Letter of Marion, 7th March.

Watson marched down the river, and at Mount Hope had to build up the bridges, and to sustain a second conflict with Col. Hugh Horry, at the head of Marion's advance. By dint of his field pieces, and the strength of his column, he at length made good his way. Near Murray's ferry he passed the Kingstree road to his left, and when he came to the Black river road, which crosses at the lower bridge, he made a feint of still continuing down the Santee; but soon after wheeling took that road on which the lower bridge was, distant twelve miles. His manoeuvre did not long deceive Marion. He detached Major James at the head of seventy men, thirty of whom were riflemen under M'Cottry, to destroy the remnant of the bridge, which had been partially broken, and to take post there, while the general kept an eye on Watson.

The pass of the lower bridge was now to decide the fate of Williamsburgh, and seventy of her sons, under her most approved leaders, were gone forth to defend it. Maj. James proceeded with great expedition, and crossing the river by a shorter route than the road, arrived at the bridge in time to throw down two of the middle arches, and to fire the string pieces at the eastern end. At this place the west bank of the river is considerably elevated, the east low and somewhat swampy, and on the west the road passes to the bridge through a ravine; the river is forty or fifty yards wide, and though deep, was fordable below the bridge. As soon as the breach in it was effected, Maj. James drew up M'Cottry's riflemen on each side of the ford and end of the bridge, so as to have a fair view of the ravine, and disposed the rest of his little band on the flanks. Not long after, Marion arriving, took post in the rear, and sent Capt. Thomas Potts, with his Pedee company, to reinforce Maj. James; and this had scarcely been effected, when Watson's field pieces opened their fire, from the opposite bank to clear his way, for a passage at the ford. These field pieces could not be brought to bear on the low grounds to the east without exposing his artillerists on the hill to the fire of the riflemen. His balls hit the pines across the river, about midway their trunks, or passed over disregarded. This attempt not succeeding, Watson drew up his columns in the old field over the river, and his advance was now seen approaching the ford with an officer at its head, waving his sword. M'Cottry fired the signal gun, and the officer clapped his hand to his breast and fell to the ground. The riflemen and musketeers next poured in a well directed and deadly fire, and the British advance fled in disorder; nor did the reserve move forward to its support. Four men returned to bear off their officer, but all four shared his fate. In the evening, Watson succeeded in removing his dead and wounded, and took up his head quarters at John Witherspoon's, a mile above the bridge. Here he was overheard to say, "that he never saw such shooting in his life." To men fighting for their homes, wives, families, and their very existence, "nothing appeared difficult;" and good shooting, if not a virtue in them, was highly commendable. Gen. Marion took a position on a ridge below the ford of the river, which is still called the general's island. Next day he pushed M'Cottry and Conyers over the river, and recommenced shooting Watson's pickets and sentinels. Watson posted himself a little farther up the river, at Blakely's plantation, where he pitched his camp in the most open place he could find, but still Marion kept him in a bad humour, (as his letters from that place indicate,) and his regulars in a constant panic. Here he remained for more than a week* in inactivity and irresolution; perhaps he waited for Doyle to make an impression at Snow's island; but if Marion heard of Doyle, he kept it a profound secret. While Blakely's and Witherspoon's provisions lasted, his present plan answered pretty well; but when they failed, it became necessary to have more at a greater distance, and these could not be obtained, but by daily skirmishes. In these Capt. Conyers was greatly distinguished. He was most daring, and sat and managed his horse so remarkably well, that as was the case with the centaur of old, they might have been taken for one animal. Conyers was at this time fighting under the auspicious eye of a young lady,** to whom his faith had been plighted, and beneath her alternate smiles and fears, he presented himself daily before the lines of the enemy, either as a single champion, or at the head of his troop. Often did she hear them repeat, "Take care! there is Capt. Conyers!" It was a ray of chivalry athwart the gloom of unrelenting warfare.

* About ten days, as it appears from the dates of his letters.

** This young lady was Mary, the second daughter of John Witherspoon, who after the war, was married to Conyers. One day when her lover made his appearance as usual, a British officer made use of language disrespectful to him, which she bore for some time with patience; at last he said something indelicate to herself. She immediately drew off a walking shoe from her foot, and flung it in his face, saying, "coward! go meet him." In those days kid slippers were not fashionable.

To increase the panic of the British, Serjt. M'Donald, with a rifle, shot Lieut. Torriano through the knee, at the distance of three hundred yards. This appears to have softened even the proud spirit of Watson; for, on the 15th of March, he wrote a letter to Marion, stating, "we have an officer and some men wounded, whom I should be glad to send where they could be better taken care of. I wish, therefore, to know if they will be permitted to pass to Charleston." Gen. Marion wrote for a list of them, and next day sent the following pass: "Gen. Marion's pass, granted to Lieut. Torriano and twelve privates.—One officer and six wounded men, with six attendants, of the British troops, are permitted to pass to Nelson's ferry, thence to Charleston, unmolested," &c. Col. Watson was now literally besieged; his supplies were cut off on all sides, and so many of his men killed, that, he is said by tradition, to have sunk them in Black river to hide their number. There is a quarry of rock in the neighbourhood of the place, and the only one in that part of the country, where, it is said, he sunk his men. At length Watson, decamping, made a forced march down the Georgetown road; but paused at Ox swamp, six miles below the lower bridge. On each side of the road there was then a thick, boggy swamp—trees were felled across the causeway—three bridges were destroyed, and Marion was watching him with the eye of an eagle. Thus situated, and having to force a more difficult pass at Johnson's swamp, ten miles ahead, Watson most prudently wheeled to the right, and passed on, through open piney woods, to the Santee road, distant about fifteen miles. When overtaken by Marion upon this road, his infantry were passing like horses at a full trot. Here he had not so many obstacles to encounter as on the other road, and, by wheeling covertly and marching so briskly, had gained considerable ground. However, Col. Peter Horry now advanced ahead with the cavalry and riflemen, and annoyed him in flank and in front, while Marion attacked in the rear, until they reached Sampit bridge, where the last skirmish took place. News from Doyle appears to have arrested Marion's progress, and summoned him to new perils.

Watson reached Georgetown, with two waggon loads of wounded men.* It is evident from an intercepted letter of his of the 20th of March, that he had been hemmed in so closely that he was in want of every thing, and had taken this route to Georgetown, fifty miles out of his way, to obtain supplies. From Fort Watson to the lower bridge, he had not advanced more than forty miles on his premeditated route to join Doyle.

* Horry's Narrative.

In the mean time, Col. Doyle, an active, enterprising officer, had driven Col. Ervin, who commanded only a weak guard, from Snow's island. But before retreating he had Marion's arms, stores and ammunition thrown into Lynch's creek. This, at the crisis, was a most serious loss.

From Sampit, Gen. Marion marched back towards Snow's island; on the way he received intelligence that Doyle lay at Witherspoon's ferry, and he proceeded forthwith to attack him. Doyle had taken a position on the north side of the ferry, and when M'Cottry, in advance, with his mounted riflemen, arrived at the creek, the British were scuttling a ferry boat on the opposite side. He took a position behind trees, and gave them a well directed and deadly fire; they ran to their arms and returned a prodigious volley, which did no more harm than that of knocking off the limbs of trees among the riflemen. Doyle had received news, which occasioned him to retreat for Camden. The ferry boat being now scuttled and sunk on the opposite side, and Lynch's creek being swollen, and at this place wide and deep, Gen. Marion proceeded up the creek, and swam over it at the first place he reached, five miles above Witherspoon's. This was the shortest route to come at Doyle. He pursued all that day, and the next morning till nine or ten o'clock, when he came to a house where Doyle had destroyed all his heavy baggage, and had proceeded on with great celerity towards Camden. This seemed mysterious at the time; but here Marion halted.

It appears from what follows, shortly, as well as from Horry's account, that this pursuit was undertaken by Gen. Marion with the desperate resolution of either selling his own life and that of his followers, as dearly as possible, or of cutting his way through the enemy to make good a retreat into North Carolina. Happily for his country, Doyle evaded him, and thus prevented the dangerous attempt. The general now received the melancholy account of the extent of his loss in ammunition and other stores on Snow's island, which under present circumstances appeared irretrievable. However he was but little disposed to brood over misfortunes, and if he had, his enemies were not inclined to allow him leisure. In the mean time Col. Watson, having refreshed and reinforced his party, and received a fresh supply of military stores and provisions at Georgetown, proceeded again towards the Pedee. On his march he had nothing to impede him but a few bridges broken down. He took the nearest route across Black river at Wragg's ferry, and crossing the Pedee at Euhany, and the little Pedee at Potato bed ferry, he halted at Catfish creek, a mile from where Marion court house now stands.—Here Ganey's party flocked in to him in such numbers that he was soon nine hundred strong. Gen. Marion returning from the pursuit of Doyle, and hearing of the approach of Watson, crossed the Pedee and encamped at the Warhees, five miles from him. At this place he consulted with his field officers then in camp, and informed them that although his force was now recruited to five hundred men, that yet he had no more ammunition than about two rounds to each man, and asked them "if he should retreat into the upper parts of North Carolina, or if necessary to the mountains, whether they would follow him." With a firm and unanimous voice the resolution to follow him was adopted. These field officers, whose names should be engraved on tablets of brass, were Cols. Peter Horry, Hugh Horry, James Postell and John Ervin, and Majors John James, John Baxter and Alexander Swinton.

Not long after this resolution was taken, Gen. Marion met Capt. Gavin Witherspoon, who said to him, "General had we not better fight Col. Watson before any more tories join him." "My friend," replied he, "I know that would be best, but we have not ammunition." "Why, general," said Witherspoon, "here is my powder horn full," holding it up. "Ah! my friend," said Marion, "you are an extraordinary soldier, but as for others, there are not two rounds to a man." Witherspoon passed off in silent sorrow; but as soon as he reached his camp, met Baker Johnson, an old tried whig, who begged him for God's sake to give him something to eat, and he set before him some cold rice in a pot. While Johnson was eating, Witherspoon sat pondering over what he had heard for some time; but at last inquired, "What news, Johnson?" "Fine news," said he, "I saw a great number of continental troops, horse and foot, crossing at Long bluff." "Come and tell the general," said Witherspoon. "No," replied the other, "I am starving with hunger, and if the general wants the news he must come to me." Witherspoon immediately posted off to the general, who lost no time in going to Johnson; around whom some hundreds were soon collected. The bearer of the good tidings was to be depended on. The news was sudden and unexpected, and to men now in a state of desperation nothing could be more transporting. Scarce was there an eye but what was suffused with tears of joy. All sufferings appeared now to be at an end, and that balm of the soul hope began to revive. But while Johnson was still communicating his intelligence, it was confirmed by the sound of a drum in the rear; and soon after by the arrival of Major Conyers and Capt. Irby, with Lieut. Col. Lee's legionary infantry. By Conyers, Marion received orders from Gen. Greene to join Lee, and cooperate with him in striking at the posts below Camden, and in furnishing provisions for the main army;* and Lee had moved on towards the Santee for that purpose. Commencing his march immediately, Gen. Marion crossed the Pedee in his rear, and left Witherspoon with a small party to watch Watson. The line of march was directed through Williamsburgh; and Marion joined Lee near Fort Watson, on Scott's lake.