Marion retires to his Farm, which he finds in Ruins--Is
returned to the Senate from St. John--His Course on the
Confiscation Act--Anecdotes--Is made Commandant at Fort
Johnson--His Marriage--A Member of the State Convention
in 1794--Withdraws from Public Life--His Death.
It was with no reluctance but with the cheerful preference which Marion
had always given, since manhood, to the life of the farmer, that he
returned to its simple but attractive avocations. But the world with him
was, as it were, to be begun anew; no easy matter to one whose habits
had been necessarily rendered irregular by the capricious and desultory
influences of a military career; still more difficult in the case of
one who has entered upon the last period of life. The close of the
Revolution found him destitute of means, almost in poverty, and more
than fifty years old. His health was good, however; his frame elastic;
his capacity for endurance, seemingly, as great as ever. But his little
fortune had suffered irretrievably. His interests had shared the fate
of most other Southern patriots, in the long and cruel struggle through
which the country had gone. His plantation in St. John's, Berkeley, lay
within a mile of one of the ordinary routes of the British army, and
his career was not calculated to move them to forbearance in the case
of one, whose perpetual activity and skill so constantly baffled their
designs. His estate was ravaged, and subjected to constant waste and
depredation. One-half of his negroes were taken away, and the rest only
saved to him by their fidelity. The refuge in swamp and forest was as
natural to the faithful negro, on the approach of the British uniforms,
as to the fugitive patriot. Ten workers returned to him, when he was
prepared to resume his farm, but he was destitute of everything beside.
The implements of culture, plantation utensils, household furniture,
stock, cattle and horses, clothes and provisions for his people, were
all wanting, and all to be purchased, and he penniless. He received no
compensation for his losses, no reward for his sacrifices and services.
The hope of half pay was held out to him by his more sanguine friends,
but this promise was never realized. But, with that cheerful spirit
which hopes all things from time, and a meek compliance with what it
brings, Marion proceeded to work out his deliverance by manly industry,
and a devotion to his interests as true as that which he had yielded to
the interests of his country. He had become fond of rural life, and the
temporary estrangement of war seemed only to increase his desire for
that repose in action, which the agricultural life in the South so
certainly secures. But he was not permitted to retire from public
service. The value of his services was too well known, and there was too
much yet to be done, towards the repose and security of the country, to
suffer them to be dispensed with. He was again returned to the Senate
of the State by the people of St. John's. In this situation, he still
maintained those noble and disinterested characteristics which had made
him equally beloved and venerated. Two anecdotes are preserved of him in
his official character, which deserve mention. Both of these grew out of
the events of the war. The importance of the Confiscation Act, passed at
the session of January, 1782, at Jacksonborough, arose chiefly from the
necessity of providing for the emergencies of the State and military,
during the continuance of the war. Under existing circumstances, the
measure was sustained by our partisan. But the case was altered when the
British ministry abandoned their pretensions to the country, and when it
was left by their armies. It was then that numerous offenders--those who
had been least conspicuous for their Tory predilections--applied for the
indulgence and forbearance of the State. Petitions were poured into the
Legislature, sustained by such pleas and friends as the circumstances
of the suppliants could procure--excusing their conduct, asserting their
repentance, and imploring the restoration of their possessions. Marion's
course in regard to these suppliants may be inferred from his previous
character. There was nothing vindictive in his nature. He was superior
to the baser cravings of a dogged vengeance, and his vote and voice
declared his magnanimity. It so happened that the first of these
petitions upon which he was called to act, came from one of that class
of timid, time-serving persons, who, with no predilections for virtue,
no sympathy for principles or country, simply shape their course with
regard to safety. He was a man of wealth, and the effect of wealth
in perilous times is but too frequently to render selfishness equally
cowardly and dishonest. The amount of his offence consisted in trimming,
while the strife was doubtful, between Whig and Tory, and siding with
the latter when the British gained the ascendency. He did not take up
arms, took no active part in public affairs, and was content to shelter
his person and possessions under a cautious insignificance. About
eighteen months before, Marion had met the petitioner at a gathering of
the people. The latter approached and offered our partisan his hand. But
the juncture was one in which it behooveth patriotism to speak out at
all hazards. The struggle was for life and death, on the part equally
of Whig and Tory. Marion knew the character of the person, and disdained
it. To the surprise of all, who knew how scrupulous of insult he
was,--how indulgent and forbearing,--he turned away from the trimmer and
the sycophant without recognition. This treatment was greatly censured
at the time, and when Marion rose in the Senate, to speak on the subject
of the petition of the man whom he had so openly scorned, it was taken
for granted that he would again give utterance to feelings of the sort
which moved him then. The miserable offender, who was himself present,
grew pale, trembled, and gave up his cause as lost. What was his
surprise and delight to hear the venerable patriot advocate his
application! He was successful in obtaining for the suppliant the mercy
which he implored. The opponents of the petitioner, some of whom were of
that class of patriots who hunger for the division of the spoils, were
aghast, and having counted on Marion's support, now loudly proclaimed
his inconsistency. But to these his answer was equally prompt and
satisfactory. His reasons were true to his principles. He had been
governed in his previous views by the necessity of the case. With the
disappearance of that necessity he recognized other laws and influences.
"Then," said he, "it was war. It is peace now. God has given us the
victory; let us show our gratitude to heaven, which we shall not do by
cruelty to man."
The expediency of humanity was always the uppermost sentiment with
Marion. A nobler expression of it never fell from the lips of mortal.
The next anecdote of the legislative career of Marion is one which
directly related to himself. At an early period in the action of the
Assembly, after the war, it was deemed advisable to introduce a bill
by which to exempt from legal investigation the conduct of the militia
while the war had lasted. It was thought, justly enough, that, from the
nature of the services in which they were engaged, and the necessities
which coerced them, they might need, in numerous instances, to be
sheltered from legal persecution. They had been compelled to war with a
heavy hand, to seize frequently upon private property, and subject
the possessions of the citizen to the exigencies of the community. The
necessities of the service being recognized, the Legislature were
ready to justify them; and the Act which was prepared for the purpose,
included amongst others, thus specially exempted, the name of Marion.
But, scarcely had it been announced from the paper, when the venerable
man arose, and with flushed cheeks and emphatic brevity, demanded that
his name should be expunged from the catalogue. He declared himself
friendly to the Bill--he believed it to be equally just and necessary;
but for his own part, as he was not conscious of any wrong of which he
had been guilty, he was not anxious for any immunity. "If," said he, "I
have given any occasion for complaint, I am ready to answer in
property and person. If I have wronged any man I am willing to make him
restitution. If, in a single instance, in the course of my command, I
have done that which I cannot fully justify, justice requires that I
should suffer for it."
So proud was his integrity, so pure and transparent was his happy
consciousness of a mind fixed only on good, and regulated by the
sternest rules of virtue, and the nicest instincts of gentleness and
love! The Bill passed into a law, but the name of Marion, omitted at
his requisition, is nowhere present, as showing that he needed other
security than that which is afforded to the meanest citizen under the
keenest scrutiny of justice.
Marion did not confine his objections to the continued operation of the
Confiscation Act, to the single instance which we have given. We have
reason to believe that his labors to remedy its hardships, and restrain
its severities, were uniform and unremitting. There is no doubt that he
favored the original bill. He considered it a war measure, and necessary
to the prosecution of the war. The propriety of the distinction which he
made just after the war was over, obvious enough to us now, was not so
evident at a season when the victors were looking after the division of
the spoils. The subject became one of considerable excitement, and
we may say in this place, that, after time had mollified the popular
feeling in some degree, the State admitted the greater number of the
offenders to mercy and restored their estates. But there is reason
to believe that the humane sentiments which Marion taught, were not
universal, and met with most violent opposition. His feelings on the
subject were not only declared with frankness, but with warmth and
energy. Dining at the table of Governor Matthews, while the strife was
highest, he was called upon by his Excellency for a toast. Lifting his
glass, with a smile, he promptly gave the following,--"Gentlemen, here's
damnation to the Confiscation Act."
Though, in the language of Moultrie, "born a soldier", and yielding so
many of his youthful and maturer years to the habits of the camp and
field, there was nothing of a harsh or imperious nature in his temper
or his manner. The deportment of the mere soldier seems to have been
his aversion. He preferred the modest and forbearing carriage which is
supposed to belong more distinctly to civil than to military life. No
novelty of situation, no provocation of circumstance, nothing in the
shape of annoyance or disaster, was suffered so to ruffle his mood as
to make him heedless or indifferent to the claims or sensibilities of
others. He never conceived that any of his virtues gave him a right to
trespass upon the proprieties of social or public life. An anecdote is
related of him which illustrates the veneration which he entertained for
the regulations of society and law. It appears that, when the war was
over, one of his closest intimates and nearest friends--one whom he had
trusted long, and who had shared with him in all his campaigns, stood
within the perils of the law for some offence of which the facts have
not been preserved. Presuming upon his well-known services, and the
favor in which he was held by the public, he refused to submit to
the ordinary legal process, and bade defiance to the sheriff. While
maintaining this position, Marion sought him out. He used no argument to
convince the offender of his error, for that, he felt assured, the other
sufficiently knew. But he addressed him in a style, and with words,
which conveyed much more than any ordinary argument. "Deliver yourself,"
said he, "into the hands of justice--submit to the process of
the sheriff, and my heart and hand are yours as before;
--resist,--refuse,--and we are separated for ever." It need
not be said that under such an exhortation the refractory spirit was
subdued. How much to be regretted it is that so few anecdotes have been
preserved of his character, illustrating a life which, according to all
testimony, was consistent throughout in a just appreciation of all that
was pure, virtuous and becoming, in the character of the individual man.
Early in the year 1783, the following resolutions passed in the Senate
of South Carolina, Marion, who was a member, not being present at the
time:
Senate, South Carolina, February 26, 1783.
"RESOLVED, nem. con., That the thanks of this House be given to
Brigadier General Marion, in his place, as a member of this House, for
his eminent and conspicuous services to his country.
"RESOLVED, nem. con., That a gold medal be given to Brigadier General
Marion, as a mark of public approbation for his great, glorious, and
meritorious conduct."
Two days after, Marion being in his place in the Senate, the President
took occasion to convey to him the sense of these resolutions, in a neat
and highly laudatory speech. He said, among other things--
"When I consider the occasion which calls me to address you, I am filled
with inexpressible pleasure; but when I reflect on the difficulty of
doing justice to your distinguished merit, I feel my own inefficiency.
What sentiments or words shall I make use of equal to the task! I
scarce dare trust my own, especially after what has been said by several
honorable persons on this floor, respecting your great, your glorious,
and meritorious conduct; and I most earnestly wish, for my own sake, for
yours, Sir, and for the honor of this House, that I could avail
myself of their eloquence.... Your conduct merits the applause of
your countrymen--your courage, your vigilance, and your abilities have
exceeded their most sanguine expectations; and have answered all their
hopes. Whilst the virtue of gratitude shall form a part of our national
character, your important services to this country can never be
forgotten," &c.
To this Marion replied with simple brevity:
"MR. PRESIDENT: The approbation which this House have given of my
conduct, in the execution of my duty, gives me very pleasing and
heartfelt satisfaction. The honor which they have conferred on me this
day, by their thanks, will be remembered with gratitude. I shall
always be ready to exert my abilities for the good of the state and the
liberties of her inhabitants. I thank you, Sir, for the polite manner in
which you have conveyed to me the thanks of the Senate."
Whether the medal was really given, or only voted, is a fact that we
have no means of ascertaining. It is to be feared that the action of the
Senate went no farther than the resolution and the speech. It probably
remains a reproach against the republic, in this, as in numerous other
instances, that, knowing what gratitude required, we would yet forego
the satisfaction of the debt. Cheaply, at best, was our debt to Marion
satisfied, with a gold medal, or the vote of one, while Greene
received ten thousand guineas and a plantation. We quarrel not with
the appropriation to Greene, but did Marion deserve less from Carolina?
Every page of her history answers "No!"
By the Legislative session of 1784, Fort Johnson, in the harbor of
Charleston, was fitted up and garrisoned by the State. In the unstable
condition of things, so immediately after the war, some such fortress
might well be deemed essential to the security of the port. Marion was
appointed Commandant of the Fort, with an annual salary of 500 Pounds.
The office was in all probability made for him. His necessities were
known, and its salary was intended to compensate him for his losses
during the war. But the duties of the office were nominal. Even its
possible uses soon ceased to be apparent; and, with a daily increasing
sense of security, the people murmured at an appropriation which they
considered unnecessarily burdensome. The common mind could not well
perceive that the salary was not so much yielded for what was expected
of the office, as for what had already been performed. It was not
given for present, but for past services. It was the payment of a debt
incurred, not a simple appropriation for the liquidation of one growing
out of current performances. Legislative reformers waged constant war
against it, and it was finally cut down to five hundred dollars. A smile
of fortune,--one of the fairest perhaps, that had ever shone on our
hero,--just then relieved him from the mortifying necessity of holding
a sinecure which his fellow citizens pronounced an encumbrance. It had
been observed by his friends that there was a lady of good family and
considerable wealth, who appeared to take a more than ordinary interest
in hearing of his exploits. Modest and reserved himself, Marion was not
conscious of the favorable impression which he had made upon this lady.
It was left for others to discover the state of her affections. They
remarked the delight with which, like
"The gentle lady wedded to the Moor,"
she listened to the tale of his achievements, his
"Hair-breadth 'scapes in th' imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe."--
and they augured favorably of the success of any desire which he might
express to make her the sharer in his future fortunes. On this hint he
spake. Miss Mary Videau, like himself, came of the good old Huguenot
stock, the virtues of which formed our theme in the opening chapter of
this narrative. He proposed to her and was accepted. Neither of them was
young. It was not in the heyday of passion that they loved. The tie that
bound them sprang from an affection growing out of a just appreciation
of their mutual merits. She is reported to have somewhat resembled him
as well in countenance as character. She certainly shared warmly in his
interests and feelings. She readily conformed to his habits no less than
his wishes--partook of his amusements, shared his journeys--which were
frequent--and still, in his absence, could listen with as keen a zest to
his praises, as before their marriage. During the summer months, it was
his almost yearly custom to retire to the mountains of the interior. She
was always his companion. On such occasions, he was guilty of a piece
of military ostentation of which nobody could have accused him while a
military man. He had preserved carefully, as memorials of an eventful
history, his marquee, camp bed, and cooking utensils, just as he had
done while in the Brigade, during the last twelve months of his military
life. These were carefully taken with him; and, with his faithful
servant Oscar, and his two sumpter mules, were still the companions of
his wanderings. They were coupled no doubt with many associations as
interesting to his heart as they were trying to his experience. They
were, perhaps, doubly precious, as they constituted the sum total of
all that he had gathered--besides an honorable fame--from his various
campaignings.
The marriage of Marion, like that of Washington, was without fruits.
This may have baffled some hopes, and in some degree qualified his
happiness, but did not impair his virtues. He adopted the son of a
relative, to whom he gave his own name, in the hope of perpetuating it
in the family, but even this desire has been defeated, since the
heir thus chosen, though blessed with numerous children, was never so
fortunate as to own a son.
In the decline of life, in the modest condition of the farmer, Marion
seems to have lived among his neighbors, very much as the ancient
patriarch, surrounded by his flock. He was honored and beloved by all.
His dwelling was the abode of content and cheerful hospitality. Its
doors were always open; and the chronicler records that it had many
chambers. Here the stranger found a ready welcome, and his neighbors
a friendly counsellor, to the last. His active habits were scarcely
lessened in the latter years of life. His agricultural interests were
managed judiciously, and his property underwent annual increase. Nor did
his domestic interests and declining years prevent him from serving the
public still. He still held a commission in the militia, and continued
to represent the parish of St. John's, in the Senate of the State. In
May, 1790, we find him sitting as a member of the Convention for forming
the State Constitution; but from this period he withdrew from public
life, and, in 1794, after the reorganization of the State militia, he
resigned his commission in that service to which he had done so much
honor. On this occasion he was addressed by an assembly of the citizens
of Georgetown, through a special committee of four, in the following
language.*
* The committee consisted of Messrs. William D. James,
Robert Brownfield, Thomas Mitchell, and Joseph Blythe.--
"CITIZEN GENERAL--At the present juncture, when the necessity of public
affairs requires the military of this State to be organized anew, to
repel the attacks of an enemy from whatever quarter they may be forced
upon us; we, the citizens of the district of Georgetown, finding you no
longer at our head, have agreed to convey to you our grateful sentiments
for your former numerous services. In the decline of life, when the
merits of the veteran are too often forgotten, we wish to remind you
that yours are still fresh in the remembrance of your fellow citizens.
Could it be possible for men who have served and fought under you, to be
now forgetful of that General, by whose prudent conduct their lives
have been saved and their families preserved from being plundered by
a rapacious enemy? We mean not to flatter you. At this time it is
impossible to suspect it. Our present language is the language of
freemen, expressing only sentiments of gratitude. Your achievements may
not have sufficiently swelled the historic page. They were performed
by those who could better wield the sword than the pen--by men whose
constant dangers precluded them from the leisure, and whose necessities
deprived them of the common implements of writing. But this is of little
moment. They remain recorded in such indelible characters upon our
minds, that neither change of circumstances, nor length of time, can
efface them. Taught by us, our children shall hereafter point out the
places, and say, 'HERE, General Marion, posted to advantage, made a
glorious stand in defence of the liberties of his country--THERE,
on disadvantageous ground, retreated to save the lives of his fellow
citizens.' What could be more glorious for the General, commanding
freemen, than thus to fight, and thus to save the lives of his fellow
soldiers? Continue, General, in peace, to till those acres which you
once wrested from the hands of an enemy. Continue to enjoy dignity
accompanied with ease, and to lengthen out your days blessed with the
consciousness of conduct unaccused of rapine or oppression, and of
actions ever directed by the purest patriotism."
The artless language of this address was grateful to the venerable
patriot. In its truth and simplicity lay its force and eloquence. It had
truly embodied in a single sentence the noble points of his career and
character. He lived in the delightful consciousness of a pure mind,
free from accusation--and no higher eulogy could be conferred upon the
captain of citizen soldiers, than to say, he never wantonly exposed
their lives, but was always solicitous of their safety. To this address
his answer was verbal. He no longer used the pen. The feebleness of
nature was making itself understood. That he felt himself failing may be
inferred from his withdrawal from all public affairs. But his mind was
cheerful and active to the last. He still saw his friends and neighbors,
and welcomed their coming--could still mount his horse and cast his 'eye
over his acres.' The progress of decline, in his case, was not of that
humiliating kind, by which the faculties of the intellect are clouded,
and the muscles of the body made feeble and incompetent. He spoke
thoughtfully of the great concerns of life, of death, and of the future;
declared himself a Christian, a humble believer in all the vital truths
of religion. As of the future he entertained no doubt, so of the awful
transition through the valley and shadow of death, he had no fear.
"Death may be to others," said he, "a leap in the dark, but I rather
consider it a resting-place where old age may throw off its burdens." He
died, peaceful and assured, with no apparent pain, and without regret,
at his residence in St. John's parish, on the 27th day of February,
1795, having reached the mature and mellow term of sixty-three years.
His last words declared his superiority to all fears of death; "for,
thank God," said he, "I can lay my hand on my heart and say that, since
I came to man's estate, I have never intentionally done wrong to any."
Thus died Francis Marion, one of the noblest models of the citizen
soldier that the world has ever produced. Brave without rashness,
prudent without timidity, firm without arrogance, resolved without
rudeness, good without cant, and virtuous without presumption. His
mortal remains are preserved at Belle-Isle, in St. John's parish. The
marble slab which covers them bears the following inscription:--"Sacred
to the memory of Brigadier-General Francis Marion, who departed this
life on the 29th of Feb., 1795, in the sixty-third year of his age,
deeply regretted by all his fellow citizens. History will record his
worth, and rising generations embalm his memory, as one of the most
distinguished patriots and heroes of the American Revolution; which
elevated his native country to honor and Independence, and secured to
her the blessings of liberty and peace. This tribute of veneration and
gratitude is erected in commemoration of the noble and disinterested
virtues of the citizen, and the gallant exploits of the soldier, who
lived without fear, and died without reproach."
This inscription was the tribute of an individual, not of the country.
The State of South Carolina has conferred his name upon one of its
district divisions. But a proper gratitude, not to speak of policy,
would seem to require more
"If it be we love
His fame and virtues, it were well, methinks,
To link them with his name i' the public eye,
That men, who in the paths of gainful trade,
Do still forget the venerable and good,
May have such noble monitor still nigh,
And, musing at his monument, recall,
Those precious memories of the deeds of one
Whose life were the best model for their sons."
[End of original text.]
Appendix A. Notes on the electronic text.
The great majority of changes in this electronic edition, from the
original, are in spelling (some words are spelled both ways in the
original). To wit:
partizan :: partisan.
merchandize :: merchandise.
duresse :: duress.
ancle :: ankle.
swamp-fox :: swamp fox. (The modern spelling.)
co-operate :: cooperate.
bivouack :: bivouac.
head-quarters :: headquarters.
secresy :: secrecy.
patrole :: patrol.
A number of spellings which might be considered errors, and might
not, have been retained, where they are less likely to interfere with
reading.
When the true facts were known, either from context or outside reading,
a few other errors were corrected. A couple are footnoted in the text.
Otherwise, the larger changes are:
Chapter 5 (p. 59 of the original): "Weems, in his life of our author"
has been changed to "Weems, in his life of our subject".
Chapter 6 (p. 80): "while the second North Carolina regiment"
has been changed to "while the second South Carolina regiment".
Chapter 14, last paragraph (p. 239): "Mrs. Moultrie"
has been changed to "Mrs. Motte".
These errors are not merely represented here for their scholastic
interest, but also to give the reader an appreciation of the types
of errors which Simms was frequently subject to make. Many have most
certainly not been caught--if I had not lived in the Waxhaw area, I
certainly would not have known of the error (footnoted in the text)
which replaced 'Waxhaw' with 'Warsaw'--two very different regions. Names
are particularly prone to error, not only by Simms, but from the
whole revolutionary era in the South--many of the people were only
semi-literate, if literate at all, and many of the names have been
spelled several, even a dozen ways--sometimes even by the individual
named. For all this, the errors of Simms are generally minor, and will
not prevent the reader from a true appreciation of both Marion and
Simms.
Alan R. Light, Birmingham, Alabama. December, 1996.
Appendix B. Song of Marion's Men.
By William Cullen Bryant [1794-1878].
As this poem is quoted in part by Simms at the very beginning of the
book, I have considered it appropriate to include the whole here:
Our band is few, but true and tried,
Our leader frank and bold;
The British soldier trembles
When Marion's name is told.
Our fortress is the good greenwood,
Our tent the cypress-tree;
We know the forest round us,
As seamen know the sea.
We know its walls of thorny vines,
Its glades of reedy grass,
Its safe and silent islands
Within the dark morass.
Woe to the English soldiery,
That little dread us near!
On them shall light at midnight
A strange and sudden fear:
When, waking to their tents on fire,
They grasp their arms in vain,
And they who stand to face us
Are beat to earth again.
And they who fly in terror deem
A mighty host behind,
And hear the tramp of thousands
Upon the hollow wind.
Then sweet the hour that brings release
From danger and from toil:
We talk the battle over,
And share the battle's spoil.
The woodland rings with laugh and shout,
As if a hunt were up,
And woodland flowers are gathered
To crown the soldier's cup.
With merry songs we mock the wind
That in the pine-top grieves,
And slumber long and sweetly
On beds of oaken leaves.
Well knows the fair and friendly moon
The band that Marion leads--
The glitter of their rifles,
The scampering of their steeds.
'Tis life to guide the fiery barb
Across the moonlight plain;
'Tis life to feel the night-wind
That lifts his tossing mane.
A moment in the British camp--
A moment--and away
Back to the pathless forest,
Before the peep of day.
Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs,
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers.
And lovely ladies greet our band
With kindliest welcoming,
With smiles like those of summer,
And tears like those of spring.
For them we wear these trusty arms,
And lay them down no more
Till we have driven the Briton,
Forever, from our shore.