The British propose Terms of Pacification--Rejected by the
Civil Authorities--They penetrate the Combahee with their
Fleet--Death of Col. Laurens--Anecdote of Marion--Death
of Wilmot--The British evacuate Charleston--Marion
separates from his Brigade at Watboo--His Military Genius.
Though the war in Carolina was understood to be nearly at an end, and
the toils and dangers of the conflict well nigh over, yet motives for
vigilance still continued. There was ample room for vicissitudes. The
British still held possession of Charleston and its harbor, but they
were confined to these narrow limits. Here, watched on all sides by
the impatient Americans, they made their preparations for a reluctant
departure. The sole remaining contest between the opposing armies lay,
in the desire of the one to bear with them as much of the spoils of war
as possible, and of the other to prevent them. The greater motives for
the war on both sides were at an end. The mother country had declared
her willingness to forego the exercise of her ancient authority, and the
Colonies were admitted to the freedom which they sought. In this state
of things neither army attempted enterprises, the result of which could
not affect the objects of either nation. Thus was spared the unnecessary
shedding of blood. The forces under Greene continued gradually
to contract their limits; while those of General Leslie remained
comparatively quiescent. The British officer was governed by a proper
wisdom. As the evacuation of Charleston was determined on, there
was little use in keeping up the appearances of a struggle which had
virtually ceased to exist. He suggested accordingly to Greene, that an
intercourse should be established between town and country, by which the
troops in the former might procure their necessary supplies in barter
with the people. To provision his fleet and army was his object. For
this he proposed a cessation of hostilities. It is to be regretted that
this pacific proposition was not entertained. Some valuable lives might
have been saved to the country--we may instance that of Col. Laurens.
General Greene was not adverse to the proposition, but the civil
authorities objected. Their reasons for opposing this humane suggestion
are scarcely satisfactory. They believed that Leslie only aimed to
accumulate provisions for the support of the British forces in the
West Indies, and thus enable them to prosecute the war more vigorously
against our French allies. This was an objection rather urged than
felt. There was probably some feeling, some impatience of temper at
the bottom, which prompted them to dispute, at the point of the sword,
rather than yield to any suggestions of an enemy at whose hands they had
suffered such protracted injuries. A little more coolness and reflection
might have shown them, that, by refusing the application of Leslie,
they only rendered it necessary that the British should pay in blood for
those supplies for which they were not unwilling to pay in money. And
blood usually calls for blood. The combat is never wholly on one side.
It was virtually saying we can spare a few more citizens. The concession
might have been made to the wishes of the British commander not only
without any detriment to the service, but with absolute benefit to the
people and the army. The provisions which the enemy required would have
found a good market in Charleston, and the clothing, in lack of which
the army was suffering severely, might have been procured for them at
the same place on the most reasonable terms. Besides, the rejection
of the overture was not necessarily a prevention of the purpose of the
British. The American army was quite too feeble either to expel them
from the country, or to arrest their foraging parties. The only effect
of the rejection of the humane and pacific proposition of the British
commander, was to compel the preparation of that fleet of small craft,
which, under the guns of his galleys, was now penetrating the rivers,
and rifling the grain from the wealthy plantations. We have seen Marion
opposing himself to this fleet at Georgetown, and have witnessed their
success upon the South Santee. The prompt return of our partisan to
the head waters of Cooper river, in all probability, preserved that
neighborhood from the foragers. With the tidings of their progress
up the Combahee, the American light brigade, under General Gist, was
ordered to oppose them. It was here that one of those events took place
which furnished a conclusive commentary upon the ill-judged resolution
by which the cessation of hostilities was rejected, and the British
denied the privilege of procuring supplies in a pacific manner. Hearing
of the movement of Gist, Col. Laurens, who was attached to his brigade,
and was always eager for occasions of distinction, rose from a sick bed
to resume the command of his division. He overtook the brigade on the
north bank of the Combahee river, near the ferry. Twelve miles below,
the extreme end of Chehaw neck protrudes into the bed of the river,
which, between these points, is bounded by extensive swamps and rice
fields. At this point a redoubt had been thrown up by General Gist. The
enemy was already above, on the opposite side of the stream. Laurens
solicited the command of this post for the purpose of annoying them in
their retreat. Meanwhile, the American cavalry under Major Call, had
been ordered round by Salkehatchie bridge, to join with the militia
collected in that quarter for the purpose of striking at the enemy. With
a howitzer, some matrosses and fifty infantry, Laurens moved down the
river, and on the evening of the 26th reached the place of Mrs. Stock,
sufficiently near to Chehaw Point to take post there by daylight the
next morning. But the British were there before him. Baffled by the
light brigade of Gist, in procuring provisions on the south side of the
river, they had crossed it, and, apprised of the movements of Laurens,
placed an ambush for him on his road to the Point. That night was
spent by Laurens among the ladies of the place where he lingered. It
is recorded that the company did not separate until a couple of hours
before the time when the detachment was set in motion. The prospect
of his encounter was the topic of conversation, and with the cheery,
elastic spirit of youth, he gaily offered the ladies a conspicuous place
from which they might enjoy a sight of the action without incurring its
dangers. Before sunrise his voice was hushed for ever. Unsuspicious of
an enemy, he rode at the head of his command. The British were posted
in a place thickly covered with fennel and high grass. With the advance
guard when they were discovered, he promptly ordered a charge, gallantly
leading which, he fell at the first fire. Laurens was one of those brave
and ardent spirits, generous, high-souled, and immaculate, which, in
times of sordid calculation and drilled soldiership, recall to our minds
the better days of chivalry. He was the Bayard of the southern youth
in the war of the revolution, uniting all the qualities of the famous
chevalier, 'sans peur et sans reproche'. That he should have fallen,
unnecessarily, at the close of the war, when nothing was to be gained,
and nothing to be saved, by valor,--and in an obscure encounter on a
field of mere predatory warfare, doubles the mortification of such
a close to a noble and admirable career. A lesson from the pure and
correct code of Marion's military morals would have saved this precious
blood, and preserved this gallant youth for nobler fortunes. The
following anecdote will illustrate the admirable character of his mode
of thinking on such subjects. While he held his position at Watboo,
after he had beaten Frasier, he was advised that a British party, which
had been dispatched to procure water at Lempriere's Point, could be
cut off with little difficulty. The British were then preparing for
embarkation. A parting blow was recommended, as calculated to hurry
their movements, as well as to add something to the measure of
patriot revenge for the wrongs and resentments of the past. But Marion
resolutely refused to sanction the enterprise. His answer proves equally
the excellence of his judgment and the benevolence of his heart. "My
brigade," said he, "is composed of citizens, enough of whose blood has
been shed already. If ordered to attack the enemy, I shall obey; but
with my consent, not another life shall be lost, though the event should
procure me the highest honors of the soldier. Knowing, as we do, that
the enemy are on the eve of departure, so far from offering to molest, I
would rather send a party to protect them."
This noble feeling would have saved the lives of Laurens, Wilmot, Moore,
and other gallant young men, who were sacrificed at the last hour when
all provocations to strife had ceased--when the battle was already
won--when the great object of the war had been attained by the one
party, and yielded, however reluctantly, by the other. Capt. Wilmot,
with a small command, was stationed to cover John's Island, and to watch
the passage by Stono. Fond of enterprise he was tempted occasionally to
cross the river and harass the enemy on James' Island. In one of these
adventures, undertaken in conjunction with the celebrated Kosciusko,
against an armed party of the enemy's wood-cutters, he fell into an
ambuscade, was himself slain, while his second in command, Lieut. Moore,
severely wounded, fell into the hands of the British. This was the last
blood shed in the American revolution. It need not to have been shed.
The denouement of the protracted drama had already taken place. The
conquest of the Indians by Pickens was complete; the Tories no longer
appeared in bodies, though, for some time after, individuals of the
scattered bands occasionally continued the habits of outlawry which
the war had taught them, and dealt in deeds of midnight robbery and
crime;--and the British armies were simply preparing to depart. On the
14th of December, while the American columns entered the city from the
neck, those of the British retired to their ships; the movements of
which, as their white sails distended to the breeze, presented, in the
language of Moultrie, "a grand and pleasing sight." It was a sight,
however, which the militia, always undervalued, always misunderstood
and misrepresented, were not permitted to behold. They had fought the
battle, it was true, "but the civil authority" conceived their uses to
be over, and "they were excluded as dangerous spectators;" an unworthy
and most ungrateful decision, in which, we are pleased to learn from a
self-exculpatory letter of General Greene, he had no participation, and
which he did not approve.
The forces of the British withdrawn from the shores of Carolina,
the country, exhausted of resources, and filled with malcontents and
mourners, was left to recover slowly from the hurts and losses of
foreign and intestine strife. Wounds were to be healed which required
the assuasive hand of time, which were destined to rankle even in the
bosoms of another generation, and the painful memory of which is keenly
treasured even now. But the civil authority takes the place of the
military, and with the disappearance of the invader, the warrior lays
aside his sword,--satisfied if he may still retain the laurels which
his valor has won. Our partisan, yielding himself at the call of his
country, was not the man to linger unnecessarily long upon the
stage. The duties which had called him into the field were faithfully
performed; how faithfully it has been the effort of this humble
narrative to show. The time was come when he was to part with his
brigade forever--when he was to take leave of those brave fellows, whom
he had so frequently led to victory, never to dishonor. The separation
was touching, but without parade. On this occasion his deportment was
as modest as it had been through the whole period of their connection.
Gathered around him among the cedars at his Watboo encampment, his
followers were assembled to receive his last farewell. The simplicity
which had marked his whole career, distinguished its conclusion. His
address was brief but not without its eloquence--such eloquence as
belongs to the language of unaffected and unadulterated truth. He
acknowledged, with thanks, the services of the officers and men; dwelt
passingly upon particular events of which they had reason to be proud,
and bade them a friendly and affectionate farewell. The brief review
which he made of their campaigns was well calculated to awaken the
most touching recollections. He had been their father and protector. No
commander had ever been more solicitous of the safety and comfort of his
men. It was this which had rendered him so sure of their fidelity, which
had enabled him to extract from them such admirable service. His simple
entreaty stayed their quarrels; and the confidence which they yielded to
his love of justice, made them always willing to abide the decisions of
his judgment. Officers and men equally yielded to the authority of his
opinion, as they did to that which he exercised in the capacity of their
commander. No duel took place among his officers during the whole of his
command.
The province which was assigned to his control by Governor Rutledge, was
the constant theatre of war. He was required to cover an immense extent
of country. With a force constantly unequal and constantly fluctuating,
he contrived to supply its deficiencies by the resources of his own
vigilance and skill. His personal bravery was frequently shown, and the
fact that he himself conducted an enterprise, was enough to convince
his men that they were certain to be led to victory. In due degree with
their conviction of his care and consideration for themselves, was their
readiness to follow where he commanded. He had no lives to waste, and
the game he played was that which enabled him to secure the greatest
results, with the smallest amount of hazard. Yet, when the occasion
seemed to require it, he could advance and strike with an audacity,
which, in the ordinary relations of the leader with the soldier, might
well be thought inexcusable rashness. We have, already, in the opening
of this biography, adverted to the melancholy baldness of the memorials
upon which the historian is compelled to rely for the materials of his
narrative. The reader will perceive a singular discrepancy between
the actual events detailed in the life of every popular hero, and the
peculiar fame which he holds in the minds of his countrymen. Thus, while
Marion is everywhere regarded as the peculiar representative in the
southern States, of the genius of partisan warfare, we are surprised,
when we would trace, in the pages of the annalist, the sources of this
fame, to find the details so meagre and so unsatisfactory. Tradition
mumbles over his broken memories, which we vainly strive to pluck from
his lips and bind together in coherent and satisfactory records. The
spirited surprise, the happy ambush, the daring onslaught, the fortunate
escape,--these, as they involve no monstrous slaughter--no murderous
strife of masses,--no rending of walled towns and sack of cities, the
ordinary historian disdains. The military reputation of Marion consists
in the frequent performance of deeds, unexpectedly, with inferior
means, by which the enemy was annoyed and dispirited, and the hearts and
courage of his countrymen warmed into corresponding exertions with his
own. To him we owe that the fires of patriotism were never extinguished,
even in the most disastrous hours, in the low country of South Carolina.
He made our swamps and forests sacred, as well because of the refuge
which they gave to the fugitive patriot, as for the frequent sacrifices
which they enabled him to make, on the altars of liberty and a becoming
vengeance. We are in possession of but few of the numerous enterprises
in which he was engaged; imperfect memories of the aged give us glimpses
of deeds for the particulars of which we turn in vain to the dusty pages
of the chronicler. But we need not generalize farther upon the traits
of his military character. We have endeavored to make these speak for
themselves, page by page, in the narration of the events, so far as we
know them, by which his reputation was acquired. It is enough that his
fame has entered largely into that of his country, forming a valuable
portion of its sectional stock of character. His memory is in the
very hearts of our people. Of the estimation in which he was held by
contemporaries more might be said, but these pages bear ample testimony
of the consideration which he commanded from friend and foe. The
testimonials of Moultrie, Greene, Lee and others, are conclusive of
that rare worth and excellence--that combination of military and civil
virtues--which biography cannot easily be found to excel.