Marion and Lee attack and take fort Watson and fort Motte — interesting anecdotes.

From Georgetown, Marion proceeded with colonel Lee to attack the British post on Scott's lake, generally called fort Watson. The situation of this fort was romantic and beautiful in the extreme. — Overlooking the glassy level of the lake, it stood on a mighty barrow or tomb like a mount, formed of the bones of Indian nations, there heaped up from time immemorial, and covered with earth and herbage. — Finding that the fort mounted no artillery, Marion resolved to make his approaches in a way that should give his riflemen a fair chance against their musqueteers. For this purpose, large quantities of pine logs were cut, and as soon as dark came on, were carried in perfect silence, within point blank shot of the fort, and run up in the shape of large pens or chimney-stacks, considerably higher than the enemy's parapets. Great, no doubt, was the consternation of the garrison next morning, to see themselves thus suddenly overlooked by this strange kind of steeple, pouring down upon them from its blazing top incessant showers of rifle bullets. Nor were they idle the while, but returned the blaze with equal fury, presenting to us, who lay at a distance, a very interesting scene — as of two volcanoes that had suddenly broke out into fiery strife, singeing the neighboring pines.

Though their enemy, yet I could not but pity the British, when I saw the great disadvantage under which they fought. For our riflemen, lying above them and firing through loopholes, were seldom hurt; while the British, obliged, every time they fired, to show their heads, were frequently killed. — Increasing still the awkwardness of their situation, their well, which was on the outside of the fort, was so entirely in the reach of our rifles, that they could not get a pail of water for coffee or grog, without the utmost hazard. After a gallant resistance, they surrendered themselves prisoners of war; one hundred and twenty in number.

This fort had been very judiciously fixed in a country exceedingly fertile, and on a lake abounding with fine fish, and from its contiguity to the river Santee, forming an admirable deposite for their upland posts. From their military storehouse, which was on the outside of the fort, the British attempted, at the commencement of our attack, to get out their goods, and to roll them up into the fort. But in this exposed state, their men were picked off so fast by our sharpshooters, that they were soon obliged to quit such hot work.

The sight of their casks and bales, rolled out and shining so richly on the side of the hill, set the fingers of our ragged militia-men on such an itch, that there was no resisting it. And presently a squad of three of them were seen pushing out, without leave or license, to attack a large hogshead, that lay very invitingly on the outside of the rest. The enemy seeing the approach of our buccaneers, reserved their fire until they had got pretty near up to the intended prize; then all at once cut loose upon them with a thundering clap, which killed one, crippled a second, and so frightened the third, that he forgot the cask, and turning tail, thought of nothing but to save his bacon! which he did by such extraordinary running and jumping, as threw us all into a most immoderate laugh.

Presently up comes my black waiter, Billy, with a broad grin on his face, and says, "Why, master, them militia men there, sir, are tarnal fools: they do not know nothing at all about stealing. But if you will please, sir, to let me try my hand, I can fetch off that hogshead there, mighty easy, sir."

"No, no, Billy!" said I, shaking my head, "that will never do, my lad. I value you much too highly, Billy, to let you be knocked on the head, so foolishly as all that comes to."

"Lord bless you, sir," replied he, smiling, "there is no more danger in it, than in eating when a body is hungry. And if you will only please let me try my hand, sir, if you see any danger, why then, master, you may call me back, you know, sir."

Upon this he started. Fortunately for him, our riflemen, seeing what he was after, made a noble diversion in his favor, by throwing a galling fire into the fort. On getting within thirty yards of the hogshead, he fell flat on his face, and dragged himself along on his belly until he reached it. Then seizing the hogshead with a hand on each chine he worked it backwards and backwards, like an alligator pulling a dog into the river, until he had fairly rolled his prize to the brink of the hill, where, giving it a sudden jerk by way of a start, and at the same time jumping up, he ran with all his might down the precipice, the hogshead hard after him, and was soon out of all danger. Numbers of shots were fired at him, but not one touched him, which gave great joy to our encampment, who were all anxious spectators of the transaction, and seemed to take a deep interest in Billy's success. And no wonder; for he was a most noble-hearted fellow, and exceedingly useful in camp. Officers or soldiers, cadets or colonels, no matter who they were, that asked Billy a favor, they were sure to have it done for them; and with such a cheerful air, as did them more good than the service itself. So that I much question, whether there was a man in all our camp, whose good luck would have given more general satisfaction than his.

On opening Billy's hogshead, which indeed was no hogshead, but rather a puncheon, as big as two hogsheads, there was a prodigious stare among our men at the sight of so much wealth.

100 strong white shirts for soldiers,
50 fine do. do. for officers,
50 camp blankets,
100 black stocks,
100 knapsacks, and
6 dragoon cloaks,

were the valuable contents of Billy's cask. The native genius of the poor fellow instantly broke out in a stream of generous actions, which never stopped, until the hogshead was completely emptied. First of all, he began with me, to whom he presented half a dozen of the fine shirts and black stocks, with a dragoon's cloak. Then to the general he made a present, also to the officers of his family. To his fellow-servants, who messed with him, he gave two shirts a-piece. But what pleased me most in Billy's donations, was his generosity to the two men who had miscarried in their attempt on the same cask. Seeing that they were much mortified at their own failure, and a little perhaps at his success, he desired them to come and help themselves to what they liked. Hearing him then express a wish that he knew what to do with the balance, I told him that many of our dragoons were poor men, and much in want of shirts. "Aye, sure enough," said he, and immediately handed them out a shirt a-piece, until all were gone.

For this generosity of Billy's, general Marion dubbed him "CAPTAIN Billy", a name which he went by ever afterwards. Nothing was ever more seasonable than this supply, purchased by Billy's valor; for before that, we were all as ragged as young rooks. There was not an officer in camp, except colonel Lee and his staff, who was so rich as to own two shirts. I am very sure that Marion's aids had but one a-piece. And yet so independent of wealth is cheerfulness, that I have often seen our officers in their naked buffs, near a branch, singing and dancing around their shirts, which they had just washed, and hung on the bushes to dry.

From the reduction of fort Watson, we set out immediately in high spirits, for the still nobler attack on fort Motte. For the sake of fine air, and water, and handsome accommodations, the British had erected this fort in the yard of Mrs. Motte's elegant new house, which was nearly enclosed in their works. But alas! so little do poor mortals know what they are about! the fine house, which they had rudely taken from poor Mrs. Motte, proved to the British, what his gay shirt did to Hercules. It wrought their downfall. For, after a fierce contest, in which many valuable lives were lost on both sides, through the sharp shooting of the yaugers, and the still closer cutting of our riflemen, it struck Marion that he could quickly drive the enemy out of the fort, by setting the house on fire. But poor Mrs. Motte! a lone widow, whose plantation had been so long ravaged by the war, herself turned into a log cabin, her negroes dispersed, and her stock, grain, &c. nearly all ruined! must she now lose her elegant buildings too? Such scruples were honorable to the general; but they showed his total unacquaintedness with the excellent widow. For at the first glimpse of the proposition, she exclaimed, "O! burn it! burn it, general Marion! God forbid I should bestow a single thought on my little concerns, when the independence of my country is at stake. — No sir, if it were a palace it should go." She then stepped to her closet and brought out a curious bow with a quiver of arrows, which a poor African boy purchased from on board a Guineaman, had formerly presented her, and said, "Here, general, here is what will serve your purpose to a hair." The arrows, pointed with iron, and charged with lighted combustibles, were shot on top of the house, to which they stuck, and quickly communicated the flames. The British, two hundred in number, besides a good many tories, instantly hung out a white flag in sign of submission.

The excellent Mrs. Motte was present when her fine new house, supposed to be worth six thousand dollars, took fire; and without a sigh, beheld the red spiry billows prevailing over all its grandeur.*

— * Judge William Dobein James, who was present, assures us, in his biography of Marion, that the fire was put out "before much mischief was done". — A. L., 1997. —

The day after the destruction of her house, she invited general Marion with all the officers, British as well as American, to dine with her. Having now no better place of accommodation, she entertained us under a large arbor built in front of her log cabin, where, with great pleasure, I observed that the same lady could one day act the Spartan, and the next the Parisian: thus uniting in herself, the rare qualities of the heroine and the christian. For my life I could not keep my eyes from her. To think what an irreparable injury these officers had done her! and yet to see her, regardless of her own appetite, selecting the choicest pieces of the dish, and helping them with the endearing air of a sister, appeared to me one of the loveliest spectacles I had ever beheld. It produced the happiest effect on us all. Catching her amiable spirit, we seemed to have entirely forgotten our past animosities; and Britons and Americans mingled together, in smiles and cheerful chat, like brothers. I do not recollect a transaction in the whole war, in which I can think that God looked down with higher complacency than on this. And to the day of my death, I shall believe, that God enabled us to beat the British in arms, because we had so far beaten them in generosity. Men, who under such cruel provocations, could display such moderation as we did, must certainly have given our Maker good hope, that we were equal to the glorious business of self-government; or in other words, of living under a republic, which must certainly be his delight, because both implying and producing more wisdom and virtue, than any other government among men.

The name of the British commandant, our prisoner, was Ferguson; and a very pleasant gentleman he was too, as I found on getting acquainted with him, which I soon did. After talking over our various adventures in the war, he asked me if I did not command the cavalry, in the late skirmishing between Watson and Marion. I told him I did. "Well," replied he, "you made a very lucky escape that day: for do you know that we were twelve hundred strong, owing to colonel Small's joining us in the march?"

"Then truly," said I, "if that were the case, I made a lucky escape, sure enough."

"And where were you," he asked again, "when general Marion so completely surprised our guard at Nelson's old fields: were you there?"

I told him I was not, but that my brother, Hugh Horry, was.

"Well," continued he, laughing heartily, "that was MY lucky day. I had a command there that morning of about thirty men, as an advance. We had not left the guard more than five minutes before the Americans charged and swept all. The moment we heard the firing and the cries of our people, we squatted in the high grass like so many rabbits, then running on the stoop, till we gained the woods, we cleared ourselves." I laughed, and asked how many men he supposed Marion had that morning."

He replied, he really did not know, but supposed he must have had three or four hundred.

"Well, sir," said I, "he had exactly thirty."

The reader may perhaps conceive Ferguson's astonishment:
I cannot describe it.

Soon as the dishes were removed, we were presented with a spectacle to which our eyes had long been strangers, a brave parade of excellent wine: several hampers of which had been received at the fort the very day before we commenced the attack. To poor soldiers like us, who, for years, had hardly quenched our thirst on any thing better than water or apple brandy grog, this was a sight immensely refreshing. Whether it was owing to the virtues of this noble cordial, with the recollection of our late glorious victories; or whether it was the happy result of our generosity to the enemy, and of their correspondent politeness to us, I do not know; but certain it is, we were all very gay. But in the midst of our enjoyments, which none seemed to relish with a higher glee than general Marion, a British soldier came up and whispered to one of their officers, who instantly coming round to the general, told him in a low voice, that the Americans were hanging the tories who had been taken in the fort!

In a moment he sprang up, in a violent passion, and snatching his sword, ran down towards our encampment. We all followed him, though without knowing the cause. On turning the corner of the garden which had concealed their cruel deeds, we discovered a sight most shocking to humanity, a poor man hanging in the air to the beam of a gate, and struggling hard in the agonies of death. "Cut him down! cut him down!" cried the general, as soon as he had got near enough to be heard, which was instantly done. Then running up, with cheeks as red as fire coals, and half choked with rage, he bawled out, "In the name of God! what are you about, what are you about here!"

"Only hanging a few tories, sir," replied captain Harrison of Lee's legion.

"Who gave you a right, sir, to touch the tories?"

To this, young M'Corde, of the same corps, replied, that it was only three or four rascals of them that they meant to hang; and that they had not supposed the general would mind that.

"What! not mind murdering the prisoners. Why, my God! what do you take me to be? do you take me for a devil?"

Then, after placing a guard over the tories, and vowing to make an example of the first man who should dare to offer them violence, he returned with the company to Mrs. Motte's table.

Of the three unfortunate tories that were hung dead, one was named Hugh Mizcally. The name of the person so timely cut down was Levi Smith, a most furious tory. This title produced him such respect among those degenerate Britons, that they appointed him gatekeeper of Charleston, a circumstance that operated much against the poor whigs in the country. For Smith soon broke up a pious kind of fraud, which the wives and daughters of the tories had for some time carried on at a bold rate.

To the immortal honor of the ladies of South Carolina, they were much more whiggishly given than the men; insomuch that though married to tories, they would be whigs still.

These fair ladies, in consequence of their relation to the tories, could, at pleasure, pass into Charleston; which they never left without bringing off quantities of broad cloth cut and jumped into petticoats, and artfully hid under their gowns. The broad cloth, thus brought off, was for regimentals for our officers. — Things went on swimmingly in this way for a long time, till Smith, getting one day more groggy and impudent than usual, swore that some young women who were going out at the gate, looked much bigger over the hips than they had need, and insisted on a search. The truth is, these fair patriots, preparing for a great wedding in the country, had thus spoiled their shape, and brought themselves to all this disgrace by their over greediness for finery. But Mr. tory Smith affected to be so enraged by this trick, which the girls had attempted to play on him, that he would never afterwards suffer a woman to pass without first pulling up her clothes.

He carried his zeal to such length, as one day very grossly to insult a genteel old lady, a Mrs. M'Corde.

Her son, who was a dragoon in Lee's legion, swore vengeance against Smith, and would, as we have seen, have taken his life, had not Gen. Marion interposed.

In the Charleston papers of that day, 1781, Smith gives the history of his escape from Marion, wherein he relates an anecdote, which, if it be true, and I see no reason to doubt it, shows clear enough that his toryism cost him dear.

In his confinement at Motte's house, he was excessively uneasy. Well knowing that the whigs owed him no good will, and fearing that the next time they got a halter round his neck, he might find no Marion to take his part, he determined if possible to run off. The tories were all handcuffed two and two, and confined together under a sentinel, in what was called a `bull-pen', made of pine trees, cut down so judgmatically as to form, by their fall, a pen or enclosure. It was Smith's fortune to have for his yoke-fellow a poor sickly creature of a tory, who, though hardly able to go high-low, was prevailed on to desert with him. They had not travelled far into the woods, before his sick companion, quite overcome with fatigue, declared he could go no farther, and presently fell down in a swoon. Confined by the handcuffs, Smith was obliged to lie by him in the woods, two days and nights, without meat or drink! and his comrade frequently in convulsions! On the third day he died. Unable to bear it any longer, Smith drew his knife and separated himself from the dead man, by cutting off his arm at the elbow, which he bore with him to Charleston.

The British heartily congratulated his return, and restored him to his ancient honor of sitting, Mordecai-like, at the king's gate, where, it is said, he behaved very decently ever afterwards.

Smith's friends say of him, that in his own country (South Carolina) he hardly possessed money enough to buy a pig, but when he got to England, after the war, he made out as if the rebels had robbed him of as many flocks and herds as the wild Arabs did Job. The British government, remarkable for generosity to their friends in distress, gave him money enough to return to South Carolina with a pretty assortment of merchandise. And he is now, I am told, as wealthy as a Jew, and, which is still more to his credit, as courteous as a christian.