The year 1780, was the most eventful one, in the annals of South Carolina. The late failure of the attack on Savannah; the little opposition which Gen. Prevost met with, in a march of more than one hundred miles through the state; the conduct of the planters, in submitting, to save their property; and the well known weakness of the southern army; all conspired to induce the enemy to believe, that Charleston, and South Carolina, would become an easy prey. Sir Henry Clinton, their commander in chief, meditating a formidable expedition against them; with this view sailed from New York on the 26th December, 1779, with an army, which, with subsequent reinforcements amounted to about 12,000 men. To oppose this great force, Gen. Lincoln had not more than two thousand, a great part of which was militia. His head quarters were in Charleston, where the general assembly were setting in calm deliberation, for they had not yet heard of the rising storm. Lieut. Col. Marion, had command of the out-post of this little army, at Sheldon, near Pocotaligo, where he had orders to watch the motions of Prevost, and prevent him from obtaining supplies of provisions, from the Carolina side of Savannah river. It was expected he was to remain here for some time, and great confidence was reposed in him, by Gen. Lincoln, as appears by his letters, at this period. The British had a tedious passage, in which they lost part of their ordnance, most of their artillery, and all the horses, destined to mount their cavalry. On the 11th Feb. 1780, they landed about thirty miles from Charleston. The assembly sitting there, immediately broke up, after delegating, "till ten days after their next session, to John Rutledge, and such of his council as he could conveniently consult, a power to do every thing necessary for the public good; except the taking away the life of a citizen, without a legal trial." This was nearly the same power, with which the senate of Rome, invested their dictators. But a resolution, fatal in its consequences, was unanimously adopted by this assembly: namely, to defend the town to the utmost extremity. The power, thus delegated to the governor and council, was carried into effect afterwards, with vigour, and with what would now be thought an infraction of private rights. But in the spirit of the times, and the public situation, such vigour was necessary. The governor's council, was composed of upright and virtuous men, and John Rutledge was one of the most distinguished sons, to whom South Carolina has given birth. His eloquence was proverbial, both in congress, and at home. It was that of Demosthenes, concise, energetic, and commanding. There was something in his very manner, and the tone of his voice, that riveted the attention of his audience. They stood subdued before him. He swayed the councils of the state, he swayed the councils of the general who commanded the southern army: and if he erred, he erred with a good conscience, and from the purest motives.

The first order issued by Governor Rutledge, was, to call out the drafted militia, for the defence of the town, under pain of confiscation of property. This order was but partially obeyed;—the militia, who were friendly to the cause, had been much harassed in the last campaign, and it was generally known that the small-pox was in the town. At the same time, the governor sent out many influential officers, to secure the execution of his first order; and though intended only to operate for the present, this last order was in time productive of a fortunate result; as these officers afterwards headed the people. In the mean time, Gen. Lincoln had ordered Lieut. Col. Marion to select two hundred men, out of the three regiments with him, at Sheldon, and to march immediately to town. (31st Jan.) No troops were to be left in the field but two hundred light infantry, and the horse under Col. Washington. Marion repaired to town, according to orders; but before the garrison was hemmed in by the enemy, he, by accident, in attempting to escape from a drinking party, dislocated his ankle. Gen. Lincoln had issued an order, "that all supernumerary officers, and all officers who were unfit for duty, must quit the garrison, and retire into the country." In consequence of this order, Marion retired to St. John's. He was afterwards obliged to move about, from house to house, as favoured by friends, and often to hide in the woods, until he got better; but, as soon as he was able, he collected a few friends, and joined Gen. De Kalb, who was then advancing, with about fourteen hundred men, of the Maryland and Delaware troops, towards South Carolina. The correspondence of Gen. Horry here breaks off suddenly; and we hear no more of Marion for five months. But an accident, which must have appeared to him a great misfortune, at the time, was afterwards productive of the most happy effects. Another has been noted only a few pages back.

In the mean time, the enemy proceeded cautiously in the siege of Charleston. They formed a depot on James Island, and erected a fortification on it, and the main, near Wappoo cut. On the 28th of March they crossed Ashley river, near the ferry, and made a lodgement in Charleston neck. Col. Laurens, with the light infantry, skirmished with them; but, as they greatly exceeded him in numbers, he was obliged to retire within the lines. On the night of the 1st of April, Sir Henry Clinton commenced his first parallel, at the distance of eleven hundred yards from the American works. On the 7th, twelve sail of the enemy's ships passed Fort Moultrie, under a heavy fire. The garrison had been assiduous in preparing for defence; the old works were strengthened, and lines and redoubts were extended from Ashley to Cooper river. A strong abbatis was made in front, and a deep, wet ditch was opened from the marsh on one side, to that on the other, and the lines were so constructed as to rake it. On the 10th, the enemy had completed their first parallel, and Gen. Lincoln was summoned to surrender; but refused. All attempts at removing the force besieged, out of the town, had, while it was practicable, been opposed by the governor and council, and the officers of the South Carolina troops; and Gen. Lincoln, had not the resolution to counteract them. At length it was thought advisable, that the governor and three of his council should leave the town; and that Lieut. Gov. Gadsden and five others should remain. The ships of war, in the harbour of Charleston, being quite inadequate to oppose the force which had passed Fort Moultrie, were divested of their guns, to reinforce the batteries, and were sunk nearly opposite the exchange, to impede the passage of the enemy up Cooper river. Soon after this, Sir Henry Clinton, being reinforced by two thousand five hundred men, under Lord Cornwallis, pushed them over Cooper river, and enclosed the besieged on the side of St. Thomas' parish and Christ church; and the town was now completely invested by land and water. About this time, the American forces in the field having been defeated, as hereafter to be narrated, and the British having completed their second parallel, an offer to capitulate was made by Lincoln, to Sir Henry Clinton, and rejected. The batteries of the besiegers, having now obtained a decided superiority over those of the besieged, when the third parallel had opened its cannonade, and the British having crossed the wet ditch by sap, they opened a fire of rifles within twenty-five yards of the Americans. The caution of Sir Henry Clinton, in advancing so slowly, had been extreme, and the unsuspecting security of the Americans was still great; but Gen. Duportail, a French officer of engineers, having arrived in town before the communication was closed with the country, declared, that the works of the besieged were not tenable, and might have been stormed ten days before. This disclosed his true situation, and induced Gen. Lincoln to listen to a capitulation, which was proposed to him on the 8th of May. From that until the 10th, the negociation was continued. On the 11th, the capitulation was agreed to, and, on the next day, the Americans marched out and grounded their arms. After a siege of a month and fourteen days, 2500 men submitted to an army of 12,000; and it was only surprising they held out so long. The continental troops and sailors were to remain prisoners of war until exchanged; the militia were permitted to return home as prisoners on parole, which, as long as they observed it, should secure them from being molested in their property.

On the morning, when the Americans had paraded to surrender, tears were seen coursing down the cheeks of Gen. Moultrie.

The loss of the Americans, in the siege, was not great; only five officers of distinction: Col. Parker, and Capts. Bowman, Moultrie, Templeton and Neyle, were killed. During the siege, Gen. Lincoln called two councils of war, to devise the means of retreating from the town, but all attempts of that kind were opposed, first by the civil authority, next by the South Carolina officers, and finally by the inhabitants. He ought not to have entered the town; he had the example of the illustrious Washington before him, who had declined to act in that manner, and had thus preserved the independence of his country. The American army acting in the country, would have kept up the spirits of the militia, and kept the British from mounting their cavalry, and gaining supplies of provisions, with such ease as they did. Although Lincoln's force was small, it was at least equal to that of Gen. Washington, when he retreated over the Delaware, in 1776. The country was not so open, and more fit for a partisan warfare, than New Jersey, and in a few months the climate would have fought his battles. It was not intended by the author to narrate the particulars of the siege of Charleston; these have been detailed by the enlightened historian of South Carolina, Dr. Ramsay. But the effects of it upon the minds of the people in the country, come more particularly within his province; since they would hereafter be disposed to act according as they were affected, by passing incidents. There being now no force in the field, but the two hundred light infantry, under Gen. Huger, and the horse under Col. Washington; which were those mentioned in Lincoln's order to Gen. Marion; the British were suffered to detach small parties through the country, and to take all the horses which were fit, either to transport their cannon and baggage, or to mount their cavalry. In one month after their landing, Col. Tarleton had his legion mounted, and began his career of slaughter. On the 18th March, he surprised a party of 80 militia, at Saltketcher bridge, killed and wounded several, and dispersed the rest. On the 23d, he put to flight another party at Ponpon, killed three, wounded one, and took four prisoners. On the 27th, near Rantowle's bridge, he had a rencounter with Col. Washington, at the head of his legion of 300 men; Tarleton was worsted in this affair, and lost seven men, prisoners. On the 13th April, the American infantry and cavalry under Gen. Huger, lay, the infantry at Biggen church, and the cavalry under Col. Washington, at Monk's corner. Col. Tarleton with Ferguson's corps of marksmen, advanced on from the quarter-house to Goose Creek, where he was joined by Col. Webster, with the 33d and 64th regiments of infantry. There an attack upon the American post was concerted, and it was judged advisable to make it in the night, as that would render the superiority of Washington's cavalry useless. A servant of one of Huger's officers was taken on the road, and he agreed for a few dollars, to conduct the enemy through a by-road, to Monk's corner. At three o'clock in the morning, they charged Washington's guard on the main road, and pursued them into the camp. The Americans were completely surprised. Major Vernier, of Pulaski's legion, and twenty-five men, were killed. One hundred officers, and dragoons, fifty waggons loaded with ammunition, clothing and arms, and four hundred horses, with their accoutrements, were taken. A most valuable acquisition to the British. Major Cochrane with the British legion of infantry, forced the passage at Biggen bridge, and drove Gen. Huger and the infantry before him.—In this affair, Major James Conyers, of the Americans, distinguished himself by a skilful retreat, and by calling off the attention of the enemy from his sleeping friends, to himself. The British had only one officer and two men wounded. The account of the loss of the Americans in this affair, is taken from Tarleton, who blames "the injudicious conduct of the American commander, who besides making a false disposition of his corps, by placing his cavalry in front of the bridge, during the night, and his infantry in the rear, neglected sending patroles in front of his videttes." In this surprise, the British made free use of the bayonet, the houses in Monk's corner, then a village, were afterwards deserted, and long bore the marks of deadly thrust, and much bloodshed. Col. White soon after took the command of the American cavalry, but with no better fortune. On the 5th May, he took a British officer and seventeen men of the legion, at Ball's plantation, near Strawberry, in the morning, and pushed back twenty-five miles, to Lenud's ferry, on Santee. While crossing there, Tarleton surprised him, at three in the afternoon; who states, that five officers and 36 men of the Americans were killed and wounded, and seven officers and sixty dragoons were taken; while he lost only two men, and retook his dragoons. Cols. White and Washington, Major Jamieson, and several officers and men, escaped by swimming the river, but many perished in the like attempt.* Thus the American corps of cavalry and infantry, in the open field, was completely annihilated, and from the Saltketcher to the Santee, a distance of one hundred and twenty miles, either terror or a general depression of spirits, had spread through the country. What served to increase this, was the cannonade at the town. This was a novel thing in South Carolina, and along water courses, it was heard more than one hundred miles. In that distance, there were but few families, who had not a husband, father, brother or son in the garrison; and these listened to the sound, with the deepest anxiety, and, as was natural, with no little despondency.

As soon as the town had surrendered, Lord Cornwallis, with 2500 men, and five field pieces, marched from St. Thomas' to Nelson's ferry. Thence he detached Tarleton, with 700 infantry and cavalry, in quest of Gen. Caswell and Col. Buford, who had been approaching to the relief of Charleston, with about 700 militia, and between 3 and 400 continentals. At Camden, Caswell, with the militia, quitted Buford, who then commanded the continentals, and retreated by the way of Pedee. Buford's regiment was soon after placed under the command of Gen. Huger, as an escort to Gov. Rutledge, then at Camden; and was detained, with a fatal security, by the general, for two days in that place. And so much off their guard, were our rulers themselves, that Gov. Rutledge, and his council, were soon after hospitably entertained, at Clermont, by Col. Rugely, an Englishman, professedly opposed to the American cause. At midnight, he woke them up, advised them of Tarleton's approach, and with some difficulty, persuaded them to escape; at daylight, Tarleton arrived at Clermont. That morning, Huger gave up the command again to Buford, and took the Charlotte road, with the governor and his two remaining council, Daniel Huger and John L. Gervais. Buford proceeded on rapidly, upon the Salisbury road, and from circumstances, his baggage waggons must have been sent on before he took the command again, that morning; otherwise, in making the very quick march he did, they must have been left far in his rear. But Tarleton blames him, for sending them ahead, because they might have served him as a rampart, and other historians have adopted his account. After a pursuit of one hundred miles, in fifty-four hours, Tarleton approached Buford, about forty miles from Camden, and twenty-six from Clermont; and dispatched Capt. David Kinloch with a flag, summoning him to surrender upon the terms granted to the garrison of Charleston. Buford called a council of his officers, who deeming it a deception, he continued his march. In the afternoon, Tarleton overtook him, unfortunately, in an open wood, and cut to pieces his rear guard. At the sound of his bugle, Buford drew up his men, all infantry; but Capt. Carter, (not Benjamin,) who commanded his artillery, and led the van, continued his march. Tarleton advanced, with his infantry in the centre, and his cavalry on the wings. He was checked by Buford's fire; but the cavalry wheeling, gained his rear. Seeing no hope of any longer making a defence, Buford sent Ensign Cruitt with a flag of truce, and grounded his arms. Disregarding the flag, and the rules of civilized warfare, Tarleton cut Cruitt down, and charged upon Buford, with his cavalry in the rear; while Maj. Cochrane, an infuriated Scotchman, rushed with fixed bayonets, in front. A few of Buford's men, resumed their arms, and fired, when the British were within ten steps, but with little effect;* as might have been expected, from what has been stated.

Buford's regiment was entirely broken by the charge, no quarters were given by the British; 113 men were killed of the Americans, and 151 so badly wounded as to be left on the ground. This was nearly two thirds of the whole American force, according to Tarleton's own account; and the manner in which those left on the ground were mangled, is told, by others, as horrible. No habitation was near, but the lone cabin of a poor widow woman; and the situation of the dead, was fortunate, when compared with that of the living. Tarleton says, he lost but two officers, and three privates killed, and one officer and thirteen privates wounded. The massacre took place at the spot where the road from Lancaster to Chesterfield now crosses the Salisbury road. The news of these two events, the surrender of the town, and the defeat of Buford, were spread through the country about the same time, and the spirit of the whigs, sunk into despondency. The American cause appeared to be lost; but, on this expedition, Tarleton burnt the house of Gen. Sumter, near Stateburgh,* and roused the spirit of the lion; at Camden, a party of his men cut to pieces Samuel Wiley, whom they mistook for his brother, John Wiley, then sheriff of the district, at his own house.** Governor Rutledge and his council again escaped Tarleton, by a few minutes, and by taking the road to Charlotte, in North Carolina. On the 1st of June, Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Arbuthnot offered to the inhabitants, with some exceptions, "pardon for their past treasonable offences, and a reinstatement in their rights and immunities heretofore enjoyed, exempt from taxation, except by their own legislature." To many, this specious offer appeared to be all that they had been contending for; and they flocked in from all quarters to gain such high privileges. These, having signed declarations of allegiance, received protections as subjects, or were parolled to their plantations as prisoners of war. But, in the short space of twenty days, a second proclamation was issued, stating, that it was necessary for all persons to take an active part in securing his majesty's government, that all the inhabitants then prisoners on parole, except those taken at Charleston, and others in confinement, should be freed from their paroles, and restored to the rights of citizens; and all who neglected to return to their allegiance should be considered as rebels.

Nothing could have astonished the people more, than this last proclamation, those who had taken the paroles expected to remain on their plantations in security and ease; but now, they were called upon to return to their allegiance, and assist in securing his majesty's government. The purport of which was well understood; they were in fact to take up arms against their countrymen: at the very thought of which they were abhorrent. This crooked policy was no sooner adopted, than the British cause began to decline in South Carolina. The thread of the events above recorded, will now naturally lead us to the history of Marion's brigade. About the end of June, in this year, Capt. Ardesoif, of the British navy, arrived at Georgetown, to carry the last proclamation of Sir Henry Clinton into effect, and invited the people to come in and swear allegiance to King George. Many of the inhabitants of that district submitted to this new act of degradation. But there remained a portion of it, stretching from the Santee to the Pedee, and including the whole of the present Williamsburgh, and part of Marion district, into which the British arms had not penetrated. The inhabitants of it were generally of Irish extraction; a people, who at all times during the war, abhorred either submission or vassalage. Among them, tradition has handed down the following story:—A public meeting was called, to deliberate upon their critical situation, and Major John James, who had heretofore commanded them in the field, and represented them in legislature, was selected as the person who should go down to Capt. Ardesoif, and know from him, whether, by his proclamation, he meant that they should take up arms against their countrymen. He proceeded to Georgetown, in the plain garb of a country planter, and was introduced to the captain, at his lodgings, a considerable distance from his ship. An altercation of the following nature took place. After the major had narrated the nature of his mission, the captain, surprised that such an embassy should be sent to him, answered, "the submission must be unconditional." To an inquiry, whether the inhabitants would not be allowed to stay at home, upon their plantations, in peace and quiet? he replied, "although you have rebelled against his majesty, he offers you a free pardon, of which you are undeserving, for you ought all to be hanged; but as he offers you a free pardon, you must take up arms in support of his cause." To Major James' suggesting that the people he came to represent would not submit on such terms, the captain, irritated at his republican language, particularly, it is supposed, at the word represent, replied, "you damned rebel, if you speak in such language I will immediately order you to be hanged up to the yard-arm."—The captain wore a sword, and Major James none, but perceiving what turn matters were likely to take, and not brooking such harsh language, he suddenly seized the chair on which he was seated, brandished it in the face of the captain, and making his retreat good through the back door of the house, mounted his horse, and made his escape into the country. This circumstance, apparently trivial, certainly hastened the rise of Marion's brigade. The story narrated, as now told, or embellished, always concluded in the same way: "you must take up arms in support of his majesty's cause." Many of the people of Williamsburgh had submitted and taken paroles, but to be obliged to imbrue their hands in the blood of their countrymen, was in their minds a breach of one of the commands of God, and they shuddered at the very thought.—They had besides, had two officers put over them, by the British commander, Amos Gaskens and John Hamilton; the first they despised on account of his petty larceny tricks, and the last they hated because of his profanity. About this time, news of the approach of Gates having arrived, a public meeting of this people was called, and it was unanimously resolved to take up arms in defence of their country. Major James was desired to command them as heretofore, and they again arrayed themselves under their captains William M'Cottry, Henry Mouzon, John James,* of the lake, and John M'Cauley. The four companies, resolved on this great enterprise, consisted of about two hundred men. Shortly after, Col. Hugh Giles, of Pedee, proposed to join them, with two companies, Whitherspoon's and Thornly's; and his offer was gladly accepted. Gen. Gates had now arrived on the confines of the state, and in a consultation, held among these officers, it was agreed to send to him, to appoint them a commander. This was a wise resolution, and attended with the most salutary consequences. In the mean time, they made prisoners of Col. Cassels, Capt. Gaskens, and most of the officers appointed over them by the British, and took post at the pass of Lynch's creek, at Witherspoon's ferry. At this period, the tories on Lynch's creek, in the neighbourhood of M'Callum's ferry, had already begun their murders and depredations. Messrs. Matthew Bradley, Thomas Bradley, and John Roberts, respectable citizens, who had then joined neither party, and also, some others, were killed by them, in their own houses. These were headed by the two Harrisons, one afterwards a colonel, the other a major in the British service; whom Tarleton calls men of fortune. They were in fact two of the greatest banditti that ever infested the country. Before the fall of Charleston they lived in a wretched log hut, by the road, near M'Callum's, in which there was no bed-covering but the skins of wild beasts; during the contest the major was killed; but after it was over, the colonel retired to Jamaica, with much wealth, acquired by depredation. Capt. M'Cottry was now posted in advance of Witherspoon's ferry, at Indian town, and Col. Tarleton, having crossed at Lenud's ferry, and hearing of the Williamsburgh meeting, advanced, at the head of seventy mounted militia and cavalry, to surprise Major James. M'Cottry, first receiving notice of his movement, sent back for a reinforcement, and immediately marched his company, of about fifty mounted militia, to give him battle. Tarleton had been posted at dark, at the Kingstree, and M'Cottry approached him at midnight, but Tarleton marched away a few hours before he arrived. By means of the wife of Hamilton, the only tory in that part of the country, he had gained intelligence of M'Cottry's approach, as reported to him, with five hundred men.—The latter pursued, but, perhaps fortunately, without overtaking him. In this route Tarleton burnt the house of Capt. Mouzon; and after posting thirty miles, from Kingstree up to Salem, took Mr. James Bradley prisoner, the next day. Soon after this Lieut. Col. Hugh Horry arrived from Georgetown; and by right he would have had the command of Major James' party, but he declined it for some time. Of him more will be said hereafter. On the 10th or 12th of August, General Marion arrived at the post, at Lynch's creek, commissioned by Governor Rutledge to take the command of the party there, and a large extent of country on the east side of Santee. He was a stranger to the officers and men, and they flocked about him, to obtain a sight of their future commander.** He was rather below the middle stature of men, lean and swarthy. His body was well set, but his knees and ankles were badly formed; and he still limped upon one leg. He had a countenance remarkably steady; his nose was aquiline; his chin projecting; his forehead was large and high, and his eyes black and piercing. He was now forty-eight years of age; but still even at this age, his frame was capable of enduring fatigue and every privation, necessary for a partisan. His wisdom and patriotism will become henceforth conspicuous. Of a character, so much venerated, even trifles become important. He was dressed in a close round bodied crimson jacket, of a coarse texture, and wore a leather cap, part of the uniform of the second regiment, with a silver crescent in front, inscribed with the words, "Liberty or death." He was accompanied by his friend Col. Peter Horry, and some other officers. On the second or third day after his arrival, General Marion ordered his men to mount white cockades, to distinguish themselves from the tories, and crossed the Pedee, at Port's ferry, to disperse a large body of tories, under Major Ganey, stationed on Britton's neck, between great and little Pedee. He surprised them at dawn in the morning, killed one of their captains and several privates, and had two men wounded. Major James was detached at the head of a volunteer troop of horse, to attack their horse; he came up with them, charged, and drove them before him. In this affair, Major James singled out Major Ganey, (as he supposed) as the object of his single attack. At his approach Ganey fled, and he pursued him closely, and nearly within the reach of his sword, for half a mile; when behind a thicket, he came upon a party of tories, who had rallied. Not at all intimidated, but with great presence of mind, Major James called out, "Come on my boys!—Here they are!—Here they are!" And the whole body of tories broke again, and rushed into little Pedee swamp. Another party of tories lay higher up the river, under the command of Capt. Barefield; who had been a soldier in one of the South Carolina regiments. These stood to their ranks, so well, and appeared to be so resolute, that Gen. Marion did not wish to expose his men, by an attack on equal terms; he therefore feigned a retreat, and led them into an ambuscade, near the Blue Savannah, where they were defeated. This was the first manoeuvre of the kind, for which he afterwards became so conspicuous.

Thus Gen. Marion, at once, fell upon employment, as the true way to encourage and to command militia; and their spirits began to revive. He returned to Port's ferry, and threw up a redoubt on the east bank of the Pedee, on which he mounted two old iron field pieces, to awe the tories. On the 17th of August, he detached Col. Peter Horry, with orders to take command of four companies, Bonneau's, Mitchell's, Benson's, and Lenud's, near Georgetown, and on the Santee; to destroy all the boats and canoes on the river, from the lower ferry to Lenud's; to post guards, so as to prevent all communication with Charleston, and to procure him twenty-five weight of gunpowder, ball or buck shot, and flints in proportion. This order was made in pursuance of a plan he afterwards carried into effect; to leave no approach for the enemy into the district of which he had taken the command. The latter part of the order, shows how scanty were the means of his defence. There were few men, even in those days of enthusiasm, who would not have shrunk from such an undertaking. Gen. Marion himself marched to the upper part of Santee, it is believed, with the same object in view with which he had entrusted Horry. On his way he received intelligence of the defeat of Gates at Camden, and, without communicating it, he proceeded immediately towards Nelson's ferry. (16th August.) Near Nelson's, he was informed, by his scouts, that a guard, with a party of prisoners, were on their way to Charleston; and had stopped at the house, at the great Savannah, on the main road, east of the river. (20th of August.) It was night, and the general, a little before daylight next morning, gave the command of sixteen men to Col. Hugh Horry. He was ordered to gain possession of the road, at the pass of Horse creek, in the swamp, while the main body, under himself, was to attack in the rear. In taking his position, in the dark, Col. Horry advanced too near to a sentinel, who fired upon him. In a moment he rushed up to the house, found the British arms piled before the door, and seized upon them. Twenty-two British regulars, of the 63d regiment, two tories, one captain, and a subaltern were taken, and one hundred and fifty of the Maryland line, liberated. In his account of this affair Gen. Marion says he had one man killed, and Maj. Benson wounded. But the man, Josiah Cockfield, who was shot through the breast; lived to fight bravely again, and to be again wounded. In the account given of this action by Col. Tarleton, he says, contemptuously, the guard was taken by "a Mr. Horry"; but Gen. Marion, as commanding officer, is entitled to the credit of it. The news of the defeat of Gen. Gates now became public, and repressed all joy upon this occasion; no event which had yet happened, was considered so calamitous. An account of it will be given in his own words. Extract of a letter, from Gen. Gates, to the president of congress, dated Hillsborough, 20th August, 1780:—

"Sir,

In the deepest distress and anxiety of mind, I am obliged to acquaint your excellency with the defeat of the troops under my command. I arrived with the Maryland line, the artillery, and the North Carolina militia, on the 13th inst. at Rugely's, thirteen miles from Camden; took post there, and was the next day joined by Gen. Stevens, with 700 militia from Virginia. The 15th, at daylight, I reinforced Colonel Sumter, with 300 North Carolina militia, 100 of the Maryland line, and two three-pounders from the artillery: having previously ordered him down from the Waxhaws, opposite to Camden, to intercept any stores coming to the enemy, and particularly troops coming from Ninety-Six. This was well executed by Col. Sumter. Having communicated my plan to the general officers in the afternoon of the 15th, it was resolved to march at ten at night, to take post in a very advantageous situation, with a deep creek in front, (Gum Swamp*) seven miles from Camden. At ten the army began to march, and having moved about five miles, the legion was charged by the enemy's cavalry, and well supported by Col. Porterfield, who beat back the enemy's horse, and was himself unfortunately wounded, (mortally) but the enemy's infantry advancing with a heavy fire, the troops in front gave way to the first Maryland brigade, and a confusion ensued which took some time to regulate. At length the army was ranged in line of battle. Gen. Gists' brigade on the right, close to a swamp; the North Carolina militia in the centre; the Virginia militia, the light infantry, and Porterfield's corps, on the left; the artillery divided to the brigades. The first Maryland brigade as a corps de reserve on the road. Col. Armand's corps was ordered to support the left flank. At daylight, they attacked and drove in our light party in front, when I ordered the left to advance and attack the enemy; but, to my astonishment, the left wing and North Carolina militia gave way. Gen. Caswell and myself, assisted by a number of officers, did all in our power to rally them; but the enemy's cavalry harassing their rear, they ran like a torrent, and bore all before them." This is all the general seemed to know of the action. Part of the brigade of North Carolina militia, commanded by Gen. Gregory, behaved well. They formed on the left of the continentals, and kept the field while their cartridges lasted. In bringing off his men, Gen. Gregory was thrice wounded by a bayonet, and several of his brigade, made prisoners, had no wounds but from the bayonet. The continental troops, under De Kalb and Gist, with inferior numbers, stood their ground and maintained the unequal conflict with great firmness. At one time they had taken a considerable body of prisoners; but at length, overpowered by numbers, they were compelled to leave the field. Tarleton's legion pursued the fugitives to the Hanging rock, fifteen miles, and glutted themselves with blood. Baron De Kalb, the second in command, an officer of great spirit, and long experience, was taken prisoner, after receiving eleven wounds, and died. Congress resolved that a monument should be erected to him at Annapolis. The gratitude of the people of Camden, has erected another in that town, and named a street De Kalb, after him.** Capts. Williams and Duval, of the Maryland troops, were killed; and Gen. Rutherford, of North Carolina, and Maj. Thomas Pinckney, of South Carolina, were wounded, and taken prisoners. Du Buysson, aid to Baron De Kalb, generously exposing himself to save his general, received several wounds and was taken. Lord Cornwallis states the force of Gates to have been six thousand men, and his own at near two thousand: a great disparity indeed. The loss of the Americans he calculates at between eight and nine hundred killed, and one thousand prisoners, many of whom were wounded; a number of colours, seven pieces of brass cannon, all the military stores and baggage, and one hundred and fifty waggons. His Lordship no doubt obtained a splendid victory; but tarnished it by his orders, issued soon after. Extract from the orders of Lord Cornwallis:—

"I have given orders, that the inhabitants of the province, who have taken part in this revolt, should be punished with the greatest rigour; and also those who will not turn out, that they may be imprisoned, and their property taken from them, or destroyed. I have likewise ordered, that compensation be made out of their estates, to the persons who have been injured or oppressed by them. I have ordered, in the most positive manner, that every militia man who has borne arms with us, and afterwards joined the army, shall be immediately hanged. I desire you will take the most rigourous measures to punish the rebels in the district in which you command; and that you obey in the strictest manner the directions I have given in this letter, relative to the inhabitants of this country." And wherever the British had garrisons or power these orders were carried into effect. Under them, at, or near Camden, Samuel Andrews, Richard Tucker, John Miles, Josiah Gayle, Eleazar Smith,——Sones, and many others, were hanged. Under them also, Cols. John Chesnut and Joseph Kershaw, Mr. James Brown, Mr. Strother, Mr. James Bradley, and a multitude of others, languished in irons, while their property was destroyed, and their families were starving. Yet Tarleton says of Lord Cornwallis, "He endeavoured so to conduct himself as to give offence to no party, and the consequence was that he was able entirely to please none." Of what kind of stuff must this man's heart have been made? But let us inquire a little further into the nature of these orders; which, in their extent, would have condemned to death, imprisonment and confiscation three fourths of the militia, who at that time, or afterwards, acted under the American standard in South Carolina. The proclamation of the British commanders of the 1st of June, 1780, before noticed, was either a snare to entrap the people into allegiance, and, as a necessary consequence, into recruits for their army; or it was terms of capitulation, fairly offered by the British commanders, to all such people as would submit to them. In other words, it was a solemn covenant.*1* If the proclamation was a snare, to bring the people to fight against their countrymen, as it has been generally thought, it was a breach of faith in those commanders, and not binding upon the people;*2* and the sooner they could avoid the treachery the better. Then, upon this view of the case, the more wicked were the orders of Lord Cornwallis, issued on the unsound principle of a faithless proclamation. Again, if it was intended as a covenant; as the paroles issued under it made them prisoners; the people, from the terms and the nature of it, ought to have been suffered to remain at home, in peace and quiet; for being prisoners, they could not, consistent with reason or principle, serve under those who held them in imprisonment. Further, the second proclamation declaring all paroles, after the 20th June, to be null and void, was an arbitrary change of what had been agreed upon by one party, the strongest, without the consent of the other; which, in the language of civilians, is odious.*3* Then the British commanders, having broken their covenant and declared it void, upon what principle could the people be punished by a breach of it? Upon none; for it did not exist. But further, the taking up arms in favour of the British, in nine cases out of ten, was compulsory; and could have no binding effect, either legally or morally speaking.

In addition to the enormity of the principle, upon which such men were to suffer, was the uncertainty of the law; for Lord Cornwallis' orders are so confusedly drawn, they will admit, as against the accused, of any latitude of construction: yet they denounce confiscation, imprisonment and death. Under the circumstances stated, the confiscations of Lord Cornwallis were robberies, his imprisonments were unjust and cruel, and his executions, always upon the gibbet, were military murders. And if, to gain his point, he did not, like the Duke of Alva, (employed in a similar vocation) make use of the rack, the stake, and the faggot, yet Lord Cornwallis resorted to every other mode of punishment, a more improved civilization had left him, to suppress civil liberty. Such was the character of the commander in chief of the British forces in South Carolina.

Now, we hold a generous foe entitled to favour and respect, and we shall hereafter bestow it, wherever due; but the interest of humanity requires, and it is a sacred trust, in the historian, that cruel domineering spirits should be fully exposed.

Soon after the affair at Nelson's, Gen. Marion marched back to Port's ferry. On the way, many of the militia, and all the liberated continentals, except three, deserted him. Two of these were Sergeants M'Donald and Davis, who were afterwards noted, the first for his daring spirit and address in single combat; the second, for his patient services, after being crippled by a wound. It is a real pleasure to record the virtues of men, who, serving in a subordinate capacity, never expected such virtues should be known. By the exertions of Gen. Marion and his officers, the spirits of the drooping militia began to revive. But about the 27th day of August, when, having the command of only one hundred and fifty men, he heard of the approach of Major Wemyss, above Kingstree, at the head of the 63d regiment, and a body of tories, under Maj. Harrison.

Maj. James was instantly despatched, at the head of a company of volunteers, with orders to reconnoitre, and count them. Col. Peter Horry was called in, and the general crossed Lynch's creek, and advanced to give battle. The night after Maj. James received his orders, the moon shone brightly, and by hiding himself in a thicket, close to their line of march, he formed a good estimate of the force of the enemy. As their rear guard passed, he burst from his hiding place, and took some prisoners. On the same night, about an hour before day, Marion met the major half a mile from his plantation. The officers immediately dismounted, and retired to consult, and the men sat on their horses in a state of anxious suspense. The conference was long and animated. At the end of it, an order was given to direct the march back to Lynch's creek, and no sooner was it given than a hollow groan might have been heard along the whole line. A bitter cup had now been mingled for the people of Williamsburgh and Pedee; and they were doomed to drain it to the dregs: but in the end it proved a salutary medicine. Maj. James reported the British force to be double that of Marion's; and Ganey's party of tories in the rear, had always been estimated at five hundred men. In such a crisis, a retreat was deemed prudent. Gen. Marion recrossed the Pedee, at Port's; and the next evening, at the setting sun, commenced his retreat to North Carolina. (28th August, 1780.) He was accompanied by many officers, the names of all are not now recollected, and it may appear invidious to mention a few; the number of privates had dwindled down to sixty men. Capt. John James, with about ten chosen men, was left behind to succour the distressed, and to convey intelligence. The general's march, was, for some time, much impeded by the two field pieces, which he attempted to take along; but, after crossing the little Pedee, he wheeled them off to the right, and deposited them in a swamp; where they may since have amused the wondering deer hunter. This was the last instance of military parade evinced by the general. By marching day and night, he arrived at Amy's mill, on Drowning creek; whence he detached Maj. James, with a small party of volunteers, back to South Carolina, to gain intelligence, and to rouse the militia. Considering the distance back, and the British and tories in the rear, this was a perilous undertaking. The general continued his march, and pitched his camp for some time, on the east side of the White marsh, near the head of the Waccamaw.

At this place, the author had, (in the absence of his father,) the honour to be invited to dine with the general. The dinner was set before the company by the general's servant, Oscar, partly on a pine log, and partly on the ground; it was lean beef, without salt, and sweet potatoes. The author had left a small pot of boiled homminy in his camp, and requested leave of his host to send for it; and the proposal was acquiesced in, gladly. The homminy had salt in it, and proved, although eaten out of the pot, a most acceptable repast. The general said but little, and that was chiefly what a son would be most likely to be gratified by, in the praise of his father. They had nothing to drink but bad water; and all the company appeared to be rather grave.

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.

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.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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.