Marion summoned to the Camp of Greene--Defeats the British
Horse at St. Thomas--Leaves his Command to Horry, and
takes his Seat in the Assembly at Jacksonborough, as Senator
from St. John's, Berkeley--Proceedings of the Assembly--
Confiscation Act--Dispute between Cols. Mayham and Horry--
The Brigade of Marion surprised, during his absence, by a
Detachment from Charleston--Marion's Encounter with the
British Horse--Conspiracy in the Camp of Greene.
While the army of Greene lay at Round O., considerable alarm was excited
in the American camp by tidings of large reinforcements made to the
British strength in Charleston. General Leslie was now in command of
the latter. The contraction of the American military 'cordon' had very
greatly straitened the resources and comforts of the British general.
The numerous refugees who had taken shelter in the city with their
families, the great accumulation of horses within the lines, and the
vigilant watch which was maintained over the islands and the neck by
the American light detachments, soon contributed to lessen the stock of
provisions in the capital, and to cut off its supplies. One consequence
of this condition was to compel Leslie to put two hundred of his
horses to death; while, by all other possible means, he collected his
provisions from the surrounding country. Considerable parties were kept
upon the alert for this object, and, to facilitate the movements of
these parties, strong posts were established at Haddrel's Point and
Hobcaw. The situation of these posts, on the extremities of tongues of
land, to which assistance might easily be conveyed by water, and from
which retreat, to an attacking enemy, was difficult, rendered them
comparatively safe, for the present, against the Americans. But the
situation of Leslie was one of uncomfortable constraint, and it was
natural that he should avail himself of any prospect which might promise
him relief. It was readily believed, therefore, in the American
camp, that, with the acquisition of new strength, by the arrival of
reinforcements from abroad, Leslie would seek to break through the
cordon put around him. The rumor of his approach, in strength, caused
Greene to issue his orders to Marion to repair to headquarters with
all the force he could draw after him. Our partisan promptly obeyed the
summons; but, on his way to join with Greene, he left a detachment of
mounted infantry in the neighborhood of Monk's Corner, to watch the
motions of the enemy.
But Leslie's purpose was mistaken. His strength had been exaggerated. He
had no designs upon the camp of Greene, being no doubt quite as ignorant
of his weakness as the latter was of the British strength. But the
detachment left by Marion near Monk's Corner caught the attention of the
enemy, and, in the absence of the partisan, it was thought accessible to
a proper attempt from Charleston. In all the movements of the British,
it is very evident that they attached no small importance to the
presence of this chief. A detachment of three hundred men, cavalry and
infantry, was transported by water to the north bank of the Wando
river. This body moved with equal secrecy and celerity. But they were
disappointed in their aim. Marion had returned from the Continental camp
to his own. The storm which threatened the former was overblown, and
he was in season to avert that by which the latter was threatened. His
force was scarcely equal to that of the enemy. He nevertheless resolved
upon attacking them. In order to keep them in play, while he advanced
with his main body, Cols. Richardson and Scriven, with a part of
Mayham's horse, were dispatched with orders to throw themselves in front
of the British, and engage them until he could come up. This order
was gallantly executed. They encountered the enemy's advance near the
muster-house of St. Thomas, charged them vigorously, and succeeded in
putting them to flight, with some slaughter. Capt. Campbell, of the
British, and several others, were killed. But the pursuit was urged too
far. The cavalry of Mayham, by which this success had been obtained, was
of new organization. Their training had been partial only. It was seen
that, though they drove the British horse before them, their own charge
was marked by disorder. Hurried forward by success, they rushed into the
jaws of danger, and were only brought to their senses by an encounter
with the whole of the British infantry. A volley from this body drove
them back in confusion, while the cavalry, which had been flying before
them, encouraged by the presence of the infantry, rallied upon the steps
of the pursuers, and drove them in turn. They suffered severely, wedged
upon a narrow causeway, which gave them as little room for escape as
evolution. Twenty-two fell upon the spot, by the fire of the infantry.
The rest were rallied when sufficiently far from the more formidable
enemy, and, turning upon the British cavalry, once more put them to
flight. But the event left Marion too weak to press the encounter. He
contented himself with watching the motions of the British, and they
were sufficiently respectful not to press him to any less pacific
performance. They were satisfied to pursue their march, and, gathering
a few head of cattle, to retire to Haddrell's, foregoing the more
important object of their incursion. The field clear, Marion left his
brigade in charge of Horry, and repaired to Jacksonborough, to attend
the Assembly, to which he had been elected a member from St. John,
Berkeley, the same parish which he represented in the Provincial
Congress at the beginning of the war. This was early in the year 1782.
The Legislature met at Jacksonborough, a little village on the Edisto or
Pon-Pon river, on the 18th January of this year. This position, almost
within striking distance of the British army at Charleston, was chosen
with particular reference to the moral influence which the boldness
of such a choice would be likely to have upon the people, and the
confidence which it seemed to declare in the ability of the American
army to render the place secure. To make it so, Greene moved his troops
across the Edisto, and took post at Skirving's plantation, six miles in
advance of Jacksonborough, and on the road which leads to Charleston.
There was yet another step necessary to this object. The British, in
addition to Charleston and the "Neck", held possession of two islands,
James and John, which belong to that inner chain of isles which
stretches along the coast from Charleston to Savannah, separated from
the main by creeks and marshes, and from one another by the estuaries
of rivers, sounds, or inlets. On John's Island, which is fertile,
extensive, and secure, the enemy held a very respectable force under
Col. Craig. Jacksonborough was within striking distance of this force.
It could be approached by boats or galleys, in a single tide. It was
equally assailable from this point by land. As a matter of precaution,
it was considered necessary to disperse this force, and it was soon
ascertained, not only that the island was accessible, but that
the enemy, relying upon the protection of his armed galleys, was
unapprehensive of attack. The attempt was entrusted to Cols. Lee
and Laurens, who, with separate parties, were to reach the point of
destination by different routes. One of the parties lost the road, and
failed to cooperate with the other. The movement was only partially
successful. A second was designed, and succeeded. The galleys were
driven from their station by the artillery, and Laurens penetrated
to Craig's encampment. But the latter had already abandoned it. A few
stragglers fell into the hands of the Americans, but nothing more. The
preceding attempt had just sufficed to convince Craig of the insecurity
of the place, and he had taken timely precautions against suffering from
a repetition of the attempt.
The Legislature assembled according to appointment. The proclamation of
the Governor, to whom, from the beginning of the war, had been accorded
almost dictatorial powers, precluded from election and suffrage all
persons who had taken British protections; and, as those who were
true to the State had been very generally active in the ranks of her
military, it followed, as a matter of course, that a great proportion of
the members were military men. Among these were Sumter and Marion. The
former, about this time, yielded his commission to the authorities, on
account of some slight or injustice to which he had been subjected, and
left the army when he took his seat in the Assembly. General Henderson
succeeded to his command. The Jacksonborough Assembly was highly
distinguished, as well for its talent as for its worth and patriotism.
Its character was, perhaps, rather military than civil. Constituting
as they did, in a slave community, a sort of feudal aristocracy, and
accustomed, as, for so long a time they had been, to the use of the
weapons of war, its members wore the deportment of so many armed barons,
gathered together quite as much for action as resolve. It was not only
unavoidable, but highly important at this juncture, that such should be
the character of this body. Who could so well determine what were the
necessities of the country--what the exigencies of the people--what
the local resources and remedies--as those who had fought its battles,
traversed every acre of its soil, and represented its interests
and maintained its rights when there was no civil authority? What
legislators so likely to wield the popular will, as men who, like Marion
and Sumter, had become its rallying leaders--whom the people had been
accustomed to obey and follow, and by whom they had been protected.
It was equally important that the legislation should come from such
sources, when we consider the effect upon the enemy, still having a
foothold in the State. They might reasonably apprehend that the laws
springing from such a body would be marked by a stern directness
and decision of purpose which would leave nothing to be hoped by
disaffection or hostility; and their proceedings did not disappoint the
expectations of friend or foe.
The measures of this Assembly were marked by equal prudence and resolve.
They passed a new act respecting the militia, and one for raising
the State quota of Continental troops. One of their measures has been
questioned as unwise and impolitic--that, namely, for amercing and
confiscating the estates of certain of the loyalists, and for banishing
the most obnoxious among them. Something, certainly, is to be said in
favor of this act. If vindictive, it seems to have been necessary. It
must be remembered that, in consequence of a previous proclamation of
the Governor, none but the most implacable and virulent of the Tories
were liable to its operation--none but those who had rejected very
liberal offers of indulgence and conciliation. This proclamation had
opened the door to reconciliation with the State, on very easy terms to
the offenders. It gave them timely warning to come in, enrol themselves
in the American ranks, and thus assure themselves of that protection and
safety which they had well forfeited. Their neglect or refusal to accept
this proffer of mercy, properly incurred the penalties of contumacy.
These penalties could be no other than confiscation of property and
banishment of person. Reasons of policy, if not of absolute necessity,
seemed to enforce these penalties. How was the war to be carried on?
Marion's men, for example, received no pay, no food, no clothing. They
had borne the dangers and the toils of war, not only without pay, but
without the hope of it. They had done more--they had yielded up their
private fortunes to the cause. They had seen their plantations stripped
by the enemy, of negroes, horses, cattle, provisions, plate--everything,
in short, which could tempt the appetite of cupidity; and this, too,
with the knowledge, not only that numerous loyalists had been secured in
their own possessions, but had been rewarded out of theirs. The proposed
measure seemed but a natural and necessary compliance with popular
requisition. Besides, the war was yet to be carried on. How was this
to be done? How long was it yet to last? What was to be its limit? Who
could predict? Congress was without money--the State without means. For
a space of three years, South Carolina had not only supported the war
within, but beyond her own borders. Georgia was utterly destitute, and
was indebted to South Carolina for eighteen months for her subsistence;
and North Carolina, in the portions contiguous to South Carolina, was
equally poor and disaffected. The Whigs were utterly impoverished by
their own wants and the ravages of the enemy. They had nothing more to
give. Patriotism could now bestow little but its blood. It was with an
obvious propriety resolved, by the Jacksonborough Assembly, that those
who had proved false to the country should be made to suffer in like
degree with those who had been true, and who were still suffering in
her defence. As a measure of prolonged policy--contemplated beyond the
emergency--there may be objections to the Confiscation Act; but the
necessities of the time seemed to demand it, and it will be difficult
for any judgment, having before it all the particulars of the cruel
civil war through which the country had gone--not to speak of the army,
and the present and pressing necessity for maintaining it--to arrive
at any other conclusion, or to censure the brave men who urged and
advocated the measure. The proceeding seems perfectly defensible
on general principles, though in particular instances--as in the
application of all general principles--it may have been productive of
injury. The estates of the loyalists, by this measure, were seized upon
as a means for building up the credit of the State, supplying it with
the necessary funds for maintaining order as well as war, and for
requiting and supporting that army which was still required to bleed in
its defence.
What part was taken in this act by Marion, is not known. Though kind and
indulgent in his nature, he was stern and resolute in war. We have no
reason to suppose that he entertained any scruples about a proceeding,
the necessity of which, at the time, seems to have been beyond all
dispute.
The absence of our partisan from his brigade, was almost fatal to it. He
left it with reluctance, and only with the conviction that his presence
in the Senate was important to the interests equally of the army and the
country. Indeed, without him there would not have been a quorum. There
were only thirteen Senators present. He was interested, besides, in the
passage of the new Militia Act, and in one designed to raise the
State quota of Continental troops. These were sufficient to compel
his presence. But he remained with reluctance. His letters from
Jacksonborough betray the most constant anxiety about his brigade. He
had yielded it to Horry with the most earnest exhortations to caution.
By his orders, the latter, the more completely to ensure its safety,
removed to a position on the north side of Wambaw, a creek emptying into
the Santee. Here, in an angle formed by the two roads which pass from
Lenud's Ferry road to Horry's plantation, about a quarter of a mile
from the bridge, Horry occupied a post which caution might have rendered
safe. In his rear was a wood. His newly raised regiment, not half
complete, lay at Durant's plantation, about a mile above, under the
command of Major Benson. Horry does not seem to have been remiss in his
duties, but about this time he fell sick, and, for some time before, he
had been, and still was, somewhat wilful. There was an unhappy dispute
between himself and Col. Mayham, touching rank and precedence. The
latter refused to be commanded by the former, claiming to be equal in
commission, and, when Marion went to Jacksonborough, separated his corps
from the brigade, posted them higher up the river, and, being a member
of the Legislature, proceeded to Jacksonborough also. Greene was not
unwilling, in the present juncture of affairs, that the native officers
should be present at the deliberations of this body. The civil objects
were just then even more important than the military.
The contumacy of Mayham was a subject of the most earnest discussion.
Both Marion and Greene decided against him; yet both were reluctant to
offend him, as they knew his value as a cavalry officer. Mayham seems
to have acted under some erroneous impressions of the independence of
a legionary brigade, as he claimed his to be. He also complained of the
free use which Marion made of his cavalry, and the severe duties he was
required to perform. To this, Greene replies: "You are to consider how
extensive the country he has to guard, and how much he depends upon your
corps. This will account for the hard service you have been put to. The
general is a good man, and when you consider his difficulties, and make
just allowances, perhaps you will have little to complain of but the
hard necessity of the service."
But this reply did not produce its effect, and Mayham certainly erred,
as a soldier, in complaining of the severity of his tasks. In the old
chivalrous periods, the peculiar severity of the duties assigned to
knighthood was recognized gratefully, as a matter of compliment and
trust. He still held off; and Marion promptly demanded, that, if Mayham
had any independent right of command, while nominally under him, he
might be at once withdrawn from the brigade. Mayham's manner and tone
were quite respectful, but tenacious; and while the discussion was in
progress, and he holding off from Horry, events were brewing which were
destined to terminate the unfortunate dispute by a capital misfortune.
Again taking advantage of the absence of Marion, an expedition was set
on foot in Charleston, against Horry. A detachment of two hundred horse,
five hundred infantry, and two pieces of artillery, under Col. Thomson
(better known in after-times as Count Rumford), prepared to ascend
Cooper river. Its preparations were not conducted with such caution,
however, but that they became known to the vigilant friends of
the Americans in and about the city. The army was warned of their
preparations. Greene hinted to Marion the necessity of returning to his
command. The latter replies, by declaring his great anxiety to do so,
but urges the impossibility of leaving the Senate, lest the Assembly
should be broken up--an event which might be of fatal importance to the
cause, unless the great business of the session were first disposed
of. He promises to move as soon as this should be the case. The actual
movement of the British detachment made it impossible that Marion should
longer delay to rejoin his brigade, and, accompanied by Col. Mayham, he
reached the ground on which the regiment of the latter was encamped,
by a circuitous route and rapid riding, on the 24th February. Here they
were unhappily told that the enemy was retiring. Marion, accordingly,
remained to rest and refresh himself, while Mayham paid a visit to his
own plantation. In a few hours after Mayham's departure, an express
arrived with the mortifying intelligence that the brigade had been
surprised and dispersed. Marion, instantly putting himself at the head
of Mayham's regiment, hurried on toward Wambaw, the scene of the event,
to check pursuit and collect and save the fugitives.
We have seen the position of Horry. He had sent out his scouts on
all the roads by which the approach of an enemy might be apprehended.
Feeling himself secure, and being sick, he went over the river on the
24th, the day of the catastrophe, to his plantation, leaving the brigade
under the command of Col. M'Donald. Major Benson, as will be remembered,
held a position, with the incomplete regiment of Horry, at Durant's
plantation, about a mile above that of the brigade. By some
unaccountable remissness of patrols or videttes, the British cavalry,
under Coffin, surprised the latter post. Benson, it is said, had been
told by Capt. Bennett, who commanded the scouts in St. Thomas's, that
the enemy was approaching; but the information was brought to him while
at dinner, and a keen appetite made him slow to believe tidings which
might have lessened the enjoyment of the meal. Bennett proceeded to
Horry's headquarters, where Col. M'Donald happened to be at dinner also.
He proved equally incredulous, but desired Major James, who had just
arrived in camp, to take command of his regiment. The surprise of Benson
was complete, and he paid for his remissness or indifference with his
life. The firing at Durant's convinced M'Donald of his error; but, in
all probability, the surprise was quite as complete in the one command
as in the other. There were two regiments of "six-months' men"--that
is to say, "reformed Tories"--persons who had come in under the
proclamation issued by Governor Rutledge. These broke at the first
encounter with the enemy. In their flight, and to prevent pursuit, they
threw off the planks from Wambaw bridge. Fortunately, a strong body,
under Major James, checked the pursuit for a space, and gave an
opportunity for the fugitives to save themselves. Many of them crossed
the river by swimming, but some were drowned in the attempt. The
thickets saved the infantry. No prisoners were taken. The British gave
no quarter. Successful against Benson and M'Donald, the enemy pressed
forward in the direction of Marion's approach, but without having any
knowledge of his proximity. He had halted with the cavalry of Mayham,
at the house of Mrs. Tydiman, about four miles from the scene of the
disaster, to refresh his men and horses. The latter were unbitted and
feeding, when the whole of the enemy's cavalry made their appearance. It
would seem, from the indecision of their commander, that he was no less
surprised at falling in with this body of Marion's men, than was our
partisan at his sudden appearance. His hesitation under this surprise
gave the Americans an opportunity to recover themselves. It was the
opinion of Mayham, that, had the charge been sounded the moment that
he came in view, the whole regiment must have been lost. There was
no retreat, save by the river, and by the lane through which they had
entered the plantation, and of this the enemy had full command. The halt
and hesitation of the British--their seeming alarm--at once afforded
Marion the means of extrication from his predicament. To bit and mount
their horses, was, for his cavalry, the work of a moment. Though not
counting half the numbers of the enemy, Marion's instant resolution
was to issue forth by the lane, and attack them. They had displayed
themselves in front of it. Just before the lane was an old field, and
a little to the right a pond of water. Marion, placing a small body
of infantry to great advantage along the fence, ordered his column of
cavalry to advance through the lane to the attack. His men were well
mounted; in this respect, if inferior in numbers, they had a manifest
advantage over the British. The latter had been too long cooped up in
the walls of Charleston, on short commons, to be very serviceable;
and the cavalry of Mayham, though somewhat too much crowded with the
"new-made Whigs", were yet confident, from long experience, in their
ability to contend with the enemy. Marion himself was confident, but was
destined, in this instance, to lose, what he himself, in his dispatches,
has styled, "a glorious opportunity of cutting up the British cavalry."
His men moved to the extremity of the lane, before which the enemy had
halted, with a firm and promising countenance. The front section was led
by Capt. Smith, an officer of approved courage, who, in a very recent
affair at St. Thomas' muster-house, had signally distinguished himself.
Yet, seized with a sudden panic, the moment that he reached the end of
the lane, he dashed into the woods on the right, and drew after him the
whole regiment. Marion himself, who was near the head of the column, was
borne away by the torrent, which he in vain struggled to withstand.
The rush was irresistible--the confusion irretrievable. All efforts to
restrain or recover the fugitives were idle, until they had reached the
woods. There Marion succeeded in rallying a party, and at this point the
pursuit of the enemy was checked, and the fugitives partly rallied. They
had sustained but little loss in lives; but the shame, the disgrace
of such a panic, were immeasurably humiliating. The British showed no
eagerness in the pursuit. They seemed to doubt the bloodless victory
which they had won, and, content with their own escape, were not
unreasonably urgent with fortune to make their victory complete. They
subsequently, after they had fully recovered from their panic, contrived
greatly to exaggerate the importance of the event. One of the newspapers
of the day has the following:--"Things bear a better prospect than they
did. Colonel Thomson has defeated General Marion in South Carolina,
killed one hundred men, and Marion was drowned, attempting to escape."
The only officer drowned in the flight, was Lieut. Smyzer of Horry's
cavalry.
The loss of the brigade in horses and accoutrements was greater than in
men. Their greater loss, however, was of that confidence in themselves
and one another, which it was one of the greatest objects of Marion's
training to inspire. The true secret of the superiority of regulars over
militia-men lies in the habit of mutual reliance. They feel each other's
elbows, in military parlance--they are assured by the custom of
mutually depending one upon the other. This habit impresses them with a
conviction, which the terrors of conflict do not often impair, that they
will not be deserted; and, thus assured, they hurry into the battle, and
remain in it so long as the body with which they move can act together.
Once broken, however, the cry is 'sauve qui peut'. Not so with
militia-men. They never forget their individuality. The very feeling of
personal independence is apt to impair their confidence in one another.
Their habit is to obey the individual impulse. They do not wait to
take their temper from their neighbor right and left. Hence their
irregularity--the difficulty of restraining them--of making them act in
routine, and with entire reference to the action of other bodies. So far
from deriving strength from feeling another's elbow, they much prefer
elbow room. Could they be assured of one another, they were the greatest
troops in the world. They ARE the greatest troops in the world--capable
of the most daring and heroic achievements--wherever the skill of
the commander can inspire this feeling of mutual reliance. Frequent
cooperation of the same persons under the same leader produces it,
and makes them veterans. The old soldiers of the brigade had it in
perfection. It was one of the excellences of Marion that it followed so
certainly and rapidly from his peculiar training. That it should be
lost or impaired, was a most serious evil. That it would not have been
endangered, we are sure, had it not been that the brigade no longer
consisted of the brave fellows who had clung to him through the
campaigns of the last two years. The new recruits were, in all
probability, to blame for the mischance; and something, perhaps, is due
to the unhappy quarrel between Mayham and Horry. The former was terribly
mortified by the affair--mortified that Marion should have hurried
to the scene of action without apprising him, and vexed that his own
regiment should have behaved so badly. He complains that others should
"expend the strength of the regiment without giving HIM the satisfaction
of being present." Captain John Caraway Smith, the officer who led the
column thus disastrously aside, resigned the day after the affair. His
conduct had been habitually brave. But a short time before, as already
shown, he had behaved with the most determined and audacious gallantry
at the head of the same troop. That their training was defective is
beyond question, but no imputation rested upon their courage or his own.
Nevertheless, we have Napoleon's authority for the opinion that every
man has his 'moment de peur'. No man is equally firm on all occasions.
There are moods of weakness and irresolution in every mind, which is
not exactly a machine, which impair its energies, and make its course
erratic and uncertain. The truth was known in earlier ages. The old
poets ascribed it to supernatural influence. Envious deities interposed
between valor and its victim, paralysing the soul of the one and
strengthening that of the other. Thus we find even Hector, upon
occasion, the slave of panic, and Paris, on the other hand, almost
emulating the spirit of his brother.
The conduct of Captain Smith, in this affair, has been excused by
Mayham. He ascribes it to an error of Marion himself. He says that,
"Marion (who was an infantry officer) gave the order to 'file off from
the house to the right,' instead of ordering 'to charge!' This induced
his officers to believe that they were to retreat and not to fight."
This may be true; but it is scarcely probable. Retreat from the house,
except into the river, seems to have been cut off. The only other avenue
was the lane. At the end of this was the enemy, drawn out in order of
battle. Upon these the advance was ordered. We have seen that Marion
himself exulted in the conviction that the enemy was in his power. His
exultation could not have been entirely concealed from his officers. It
must have declared itself in some way. The halt and hesitation of the
British were perceptible to all. They were in superior numbers, and when
they reached the head of the lane, the horses of the American cavalry
were unbitted and feeding. A sudden and resolute charge, according to
Mayham, on the part of the British, would have resulted in the entire
defeat of the regiment. That they did not order this charge betrayed
their apprehensions, and should have encouraged, in similar degree,
the Americans--DID encourage them, and hence the resolve of Marion to
advance upon them. That it should be supposed he would hurry forward,
in the very teeth of the enemy, only to dash aside in confusion from the
struggle, is scarcely reasonable. But Mayham was offended with Marion.
The latter had decided against him in the controversy with Horry; and
the subsequent movement against the British, without stopping to require
his presence, was another mortifying circumstance which he was not
likely to forget. Biased by his feelings, he was not willing to believe
that the seeming slight was in reality due to the emergency of the case,
which would not allow a moment's hesitation in Marion's movement at such
a juncture.
As soon as the presence of Marion was known, the fugitives gathered
around him. But for his absence they had never been dispersed. Horry's
regiment was very much crippled; Mayham's in equally bad condition. Of
M'Donald's, and the brigade, a few hundred were soon brought together;
and with his deranged and dispirited band, our partisan retired beyond
the Santee to repair and recruit his strength, and revive the confidence
of his men in their leaders and themselves. In the meanwhile, the
country which he had so recently covered and protected was harried by
the British. They improved the interval of his absence by successful
incursions. The cattle had been already put beyond their power, on the
other side the Santee; but they stripped the plantations within their
reach, as well of slaves as of provisions. Greene could do nothing to
prevent them. His own army was in a state of convulsion and commotion;
suffering from distress and discontent, and threatened with dissolution.
Recent occurrences had awakened his fears for his own security.
One result of Marion's recent disaster was to put an end to the dispute
between Horry and Mayham. Their respective regiments were so reduced,
after the affair at Wambaw, that it was deemed advisable to amalgamate
them. Having resolved upon this measure, Gov. Mathews, who had succeeded
Rutledge, applied to Marion to know who of the two was the best cavalry
officer--an opinion which Marion yielded with great reluctance. His
personal preferences went with Horry, but he could not hesitate in
declaring for Mayham. Horry, with the ambition of a spirited soldier,
eagerly desired a command of cavalry,--was a good infantry officer, and
had all the requirements of skill and bravery. But he was no horseman,
and it is said that, in several of his charges, he was indebted to some
one or other of his men for his own safety, being commonly unhorsed.
His gallantry and patriotism were equally unquestionable. They had been
displayed from the beginning of the war. The preference shown Mayham
caused Horry's resignation from the service; but to console him for the
mortification, Marion made him commandant of Georgetown, a post which
united the responsibilities and duties of a military and civil service.
With the adjournment of the Assembly at Jacksonborough, the army of
Greene moved down from Skirving's plantation to Bacon's bridge, at
the head of Ashley river. Here, within twenty miles of the enemy, a
dangerous conspiracy ripened almost to maturity among the Pennsylvania
troops, composed in part of the very mutineers who had triumphed
over government in the insurrection in Jersey, and who, as Lafayette
observed,* "had been well paid and well clothed in consequence of it."
This, we believe, was the only body of troops furnished to the Southern
army, during the Revolution, from any of the States north of Maryland
and Delaware. We make this remark with the view to the correction of
a very general error, arising from the vague manner in which it is
customary for our historians to speak of the sources of the personnel of
the Southern army. The armies led by Gates and Greene, to the defence
of Carolina, were truly from States north of her, but they were not
Northern States. Two fine bodies of troops came from Maryland and
Delaware, but the rest were from Virginia and North Carolina,--with
the exception of the Pennsylvania line, of which we have now to speak.
These, as we have seen, had been refractory in Jersey, and instead of
being punished, were paid for their sedition. It was natural that they
should endeavor to renew an experiment which had already proved so
profitable. The mutineers were directed by one Sergeant Gornell. Their
number is unknown. They were solely of the Pennsylvania line, and
might have been successful but for an attempt which they made upon the
fidelity of the Marylanders. Their purpose was to deliver Greene to the
enemy, and otherwise facilitate the objects of the latter, who were
to make a concerted movement, in force, upon the American army, at
a prescribed moment. The integrity of the Marylanders, whom Gornell
approached, was not to be shaken; and to their fidelity and the quick
ears of one of the camp-women, the army was indebted for its safety.
The circumstances were all in favor of the success of the conspirators.
There was a general discontent in the army. The troops were badly
fed and clothed--were unpaid, doubtful of pay, and suffering present
distresses. They were inactive. Many of them were new recruits. Greene
was no longer surrounded by the tried and true men and officers, who had
borne the brunt of the contest. The term of service of the former had in
great part expired, some of his best officers were on furlough, and he
had offended others. Sumter had left the army in disgust; Pickens was
operating against the Indians; Marion was recruiting his brigade on
the Santee; Williams had gone home; Howard was in Maryland, scarcely
recovered from his wounds; Wayne was in Georgia, doing good service in
that quarter; St. Clair was absent on leave; Lee had gone to Virginia to
get married, and his legion was almost shorn of officers; Eggleston
had gone with him to Virginia, and the brave fellows, Armstrong and
Carrington, had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The time was well
chosen for mutiny, and as the hour drew near for the consummation of
the purpose of the conspirators, the British army was set in motion from
below,--not so secretly, however, but that their movements were made
known to the Americans. Symptoms of mutiny became apparent in the camp,
and it was necessary to proceed with vigor. Doubtful of a large number
of those around him, Greene summoned Marion with all his force from the
Santee, while his own army was kept in order of battle. The arrest of
Gornell, with that of four others, all sergeants of the Pennsylvania
line, took place the night before the conspiracy was to take effect.
Gornell was tried and executed; the others were sent under guard into
the interior. This proceeding was the signal for the flight of at least
a dozen more, who, having been committed, broke away on the night of
Gornell's seizure, and found protection with the enemy, who advanced in
force to receive them. This prompt proceeding suppressed the mutiny. The
development of the conspiracy, the state of preparedness in the camp of
Greene, and the movement of Marion, had the effect of discouraging the
farther advance of the British army; and Marion, while yet in motion
for the camp of Greene, from which he was but eight miles distant, was
summoned in haste to the protection of Georgetown, against which the
enemy was reported to have sailed from Charleston. A forced march of
four days brought him to White's Bridge, when it was discovered that the
alarm was unfounded. The enemy had not shown himself, and was not nigh.
In this march of one hundred and sixty miles, Marion's men had but a
single ration of rice. Their sole food, with this exception, was lean
beef. The march took place in April, when there is no forage for cattle,
and when such as survive the winter, are compelled to wander far in the
swamps and thickets in search of the scanty herbage which sustains them.
The march of our partisan in these two expeditions was conducted solely
on foot. The country south of the Santee had been so completely foraged
by the British, during his vacation of it, that he was compelled to
dismount his infantry in his movements until the spring herbage should
enable him to feed his horses. His force was reduced to two hundred
militia and one hundred and twenty horse. It was the wish of General
Greene that he should take post as near the enemy as possible, in order
both to shorten his limits beyond Cooper river, and to enable Col.
Laurens, who now commanded the legion of Lee, to pass the Ashley, and
close upon the British between the latter river and Goose Creek. But
with his infantry dismounted, he dared not venture so completely within
the reach of an enemy so superior; and with the double purpose of
securing a retreat, if necessary, and of forming a junction with any
party when desirable, either at Huger's Bridge, over the west branch
of Cooper river, or at Strawberry Ferry, he took post at Sinkler's
plantation on the Santee. This left him within twenty-five miles of each
of these designated routes. His cavalry meanwhile patrolled the country
as low as Haddrell and Hobcaw, and in sight of the British posts at
those places. They thus procured the earliest news of the enemy's
movements, and checked his incursions in that quarter. The effect of
Marion's presence with his brigade was soon felt, as well by his people
as by the British. By the latter it was deemed important to relieve
themselves from a neighbor at once so vigilant and inconvenient. A
messenger, feigning to be a deserter, was dispatched by General Leslie,
whose plan was to make his way through the scouts of Marion, to the
Scotch and loyal settlements on the borders of North Carolina. These
were to be stirred up to insurrection, and Marion was to be diverted
from a quarter in which his presence was particularly annoying. The
messenger succeeded in his object, but was less fortunate in his
return. He had done the mischief required at his hands, fomented
the insurrection, and set the loyalists in motion. The proofs were
conclusive against him, and he perished by military execution. The
timely notice which Marion obtained of his labors enabled him to prepare
against the event.
* Johnson's Life of Greene, Vol. 2, p. 319.--