[Illustration: 0100]
|Fort Motte, the scene of the occurrence which so strikingly displayed
the patriotism of one of South Carolina's daughters, stood on the
south side of the Congaree river. The height commands a beautiful view,
several miles in extent, of sloping fields, sprinkled with young pines,
and green with broom grass or the corn or cotton crops; of sheltered
valleys and wooded hills, with the dark pine ridge defined against the
sky. The steep overlooks the swamp land through which the river flows;
and that may be seen to a great distance, winding, like a bright thread,
between the sombre forests.
After the abandonment of Camden to the Americans, Lord Rawdon, anxious
to maintain his posts, directed his first effort to relieve Fort Motte,
at the time invested by Marion and Lee. * This fort, which commanded
the river, was the principal depot of were entertained at her luxurious
table, she had attended with active benevolence to the sick and wounded,
soothed the infirm with kind sympathy, and animated the desponding to
hope. It was thus not without deep regret that the commanders determined
on the sacrifice, and the Lieutenant Colonel found himself compelled to
inform Mrs. Motte of the unavoidable necessity of the destruction of her
property.
* Ramsay's History of South Carolina: Moultrie's Memoirs? Lee's Memoirs
of the War in the Southern Department, etc.
The smile with which the communication was received, gave instant relief
to the embarrassed officer. Mrs. Motte not only assented, but declared
that she was "gratified with the opportunity of contributing to the good
of her country, and should view the approaching scene with delight."
Shortly after, seeing by accident the bow and arrows which had been
prepared to carry combustible matter, she sent for Lee, and presenting
him with a bow and its apparatus, which had been imported from India,
requested his substitution of them, as better adapted for the object
than those provided.
Every thing was now prepared for the concluding scene. The lines were
manned, and an additional force stationed at the battery, to meet a
desperate assault, if such should be made. The American entrenchments
being within arrow shot, M'Pherson was once more summoned, and again
more confidently--for help was at hand--asserted his determination to
resist to the last.
The scorching rays of the noon-day sun had prepared the shingle roof for
the conflagration. The return of the flag was immediately followed
by the shooting of the arrows, to which balls of blazing rosin and
brimstone were attached. Simms tells us the bow was put into the hands
of Nathan Savage, a private in Marion's brigade. The first struck, and
set fire; also the second and third, in different quarters of the roof.
M'Pherson immediately ordered men to repair to the loft of the house,
and check the flames by knocking off the shingles; but they were soon
driven down by the fire of the six pounder; and no other effort to stop
the burning being practicable, the commandant hung out the white flag,
and surrendered the garrison at discretion.
If ever a situation in real life afforded a fit subject for poetry, by
filling the mind with a sense of moral grandeur--it was that of Mrs.
Motte contemplating the spectacle of her home in flames, and rejoicing
in the triumph secured to her countrymen--the benefit to her native
land, by her surrender of her own interest to the public service. I have
stood upon the spot, and felt that it was indeed classic ground, and
consecrated by memories which should thrill the heart of every American.
But the beauty of such memories would be marred by the least attempt at
ornament; and the simple narrative of that memorable occurrence has more
effect to stir the feelings than could a tale artistically framed and
glowing with the richest hues of imagination.
After the captors had taken possession, M'Pherson and his officers
accompanied them to Mrs. Motte's dwelling, where they sat down together
to a sumptuous dinner. Again, in the softened picture, our heroine is
the principal figure. She showed herself prepared, not only to give up
her splendid mansion to ensure victory to the American arms, but to do
her part towards soothing the agitation of the conflict just ended. Her
dignified, courteous, and affable deportment adorned the hospitality of
her table; she did the honors with that unaffected politeness which wins
esteem as well as admiration; and by her conversation, marked with
ease, vivacity and good sense, and the engaging kindness of her manners,
endeavored to obliterate the recollection of the loss she had been
called upon to sustain, and at the same time to remove from the minds of
the prisoners the sense of their misfortune.
To the effect of this grace and gentle kindness, is doubtless due much
of the generosity exercised by the victors towards those who, according
to strict rule, had no right to expect mercy. While at the table, "it
was whispered in Marion's ear that Colonel Lee's men were even then
engaged in hanging certain of the tory prisoners. Marion instantly
hurried from the table, seized his sword, and running with all haste,
reached the place of execution in time to rescue one poor wretch from
the gallows. Two were already beyond rescue or recovery. With drawn
sword, and a degree of indignation in his countenance that spoke more
than words, Marion threatened to kill the first man that made any
further attempt in such diabolical proceedings." *
* Simms' Life of Marion, p. 239.
Other incidents in the life of Mrs. Motte, illustrate the same rare
energy and firmness of character she evinced on this occasion, with the
same disinterested devotion to the American cause. When an attack upon
Charleston was apprehended, and every man able to render service was
summoned to aid in throwing up intrenchments for the defence of the
city, Mrs. Motte, who had lost her husband at an early period of the
war, and had no son to perform his duty to the country, despatched a
messenger to her plantation, and ordered down to Charleston every male
slave capable of work. Providing each, at her own expense, with proper
implements, and a soldier's rations, she placed them at the disposal of
the officer in command. The value of this unexpected aid was enhanced by
the spirit which prompted the patriotic offer.
At different times it was her lot to encounter the presence of the
enemy. Surprised by the British at one of her country residences on the
Santee, her son-in-law, General Pinckney, who happened to be with her at
the time, barely escaped capture by taking refuge in the swamps. It
was to avoid such annoyances that she removed to "Buckhead," afterwards
called Fort Motte, the neighborhood of which in time became the scene of
active operations.
When the British took possession of Charleston, the house in which
she resided--still one of the finest in the city--was selected as the
head-quarters of Colonels Tarleton and Balfour. From this abode she
determined not to be driven; and presided daily at the head of her own
table, with a company of thirty British officers. The duties forced upon
her were discharged with dignity and grace, while she always replied
with becoming spirit to the discourteous taunts frequently uttered in
her presence, against her "rebel countrymen." In many scenes of danger
and disaster was her fortitude put to the test; yet through all, this
noble-spirited woman regarded not her own advantage, hesitating at no
sacrifice of her convenience or interest, to promote the general good.
One portion of her history--illustrating her singular energy,
resolution, and strength of principle-should be recorded. During
the struggle, her husband had become deeply involved by securities
undertaken for his friends. The distracted state of the country--the
pursuits of business being for a long time suspended,--plunged many
into embarrassment; and after the termination of the war, it was found
impossible to satisfy these claims. The widow, however, considered the
honor of her deceased husband involved in the responsibilities he had
assumed. She determined to devote the remainder of her life to the
honorable task of paying the debts. Her friends and connections, whose
acquaintance with her affairs gave weight to their judgment, warned her
of the apparent hopelessness of such an effort. But, steadfast in the
principles that governed all her conduct, she persevered; induced a
friend to purchase for her, on credit, a valuable body of rice-land,
then an uncleared swamp--on the Santee--built houses for the negroes,
who constituted nearly all her available property--even that being
encumbered with claims--and took up her own abode on the new plantation.
Living in an humble dwelling--and relinquishing many of her habitual
comforts--she devoted herself with such zeal, untiring industry, and
indomitable resolution to the attainment of her object, that her success
triumphed over every difficulty, and exceeded the expectations of all
who had discouraged her. She not only paid her husband's debts to
the full, but secured for her children and descendants a handsome and
unincumbered estate. Such an example of perseverance under adverse
circumstances, for the accomplishment of a high and noble purpose,
exhibits in yet brighter colors the heroism that shone in her country's
days of peril!
In the retirement of Mrs. Motte's life after the war, her virtues and
usefulness were best appreciated by those who knew her intimately, or
lived in her house. By them her society and conversation were felt to
be a valued privilege. She was accustomed to amuse and instruct her
domestic circle with various interesting anecdotes of persons and
events; the recollection of which, however, at this distant period,
is too vague to be relied on for a record. The few particulars here
mentioned were received from her descendants.
She was the daughter of Robert Brewton, an English gentleman, who
emigrated to South Carolina, and settled in Charleston before the war.
Her mother was a native of Ireland, and married Mr. Brewton after her
removal to this country, leaving at her death three children--Miles,
Frances, and Rebecca. Miles Brewton took part with the first abettors of
resistance to British oppression; and their consultations were held at
his house in Charleston. Early in the war he was drowned on his way
to England with his family, whom he intended to leave there, while he
should return to take part with the patriots.
Rebecca Brewton was born on the 28th June, 1738. * She married Jacob
Motte ** in 1758, and was the mother of six children, only three of whom
lived to maturity. General Thomas Pinckney married in succession the
two elder daughters. *** The third surviving daughter was married to the
late Colonel William. Alston, of Charleston. By the children of these,
whose families are among the most distinguished in the State, the memory
of their ancestor is cherished with pride and affection. Her fame is,
indeed, a rich inheritance; for of one like her the land of her birth
may well be proud!
* The dates are taken from the family Bible, recorded in Mrs. Motte's
own hand-writing.
** A celebrated writer informs me that the name is French, and was
originally spelled 'Mothè.
*** It was the wife of Thomas Pinckney who dressed his wounds after
the battle of Camden, with her own hands, and fainted when the task was
over.
Mrs. Motte died in 1815, at her plantation on the Santee. The portrait
from which the engraving is taken is said to be an excellent likeness.
Some facts related to Major Garden by Mrs. Brew-ton, who was an inmate
of Mrs. Motte's family at the time of the destruction of her house,
are interesting in this connection. She stated that Mrs. Motte and her
family had been allowed to occupy an apartment in the mansion while the
American forces were at a distance; but when the troops drew near, were
ordered to remove immediately. As they were going, Mrs. Brewton took up
the quiver of arrows, and said to her friend that she would take those
with her, to prevent their being destroyed by the soldiers. She was
passing the gate with the quiver in her hands, when M'Pherson asked what
she had there, at the same time drawing forth a shaft, and applying the
point to his finger. She sportively bade him be careful, "for the arrows
were poisoned;" and the ladies then passed on to the farm-house where
they were to take up their abode.
On several occasions Mrs. Brewton incurred the enmity of the British
officers by her lively sallies, which were sometimes pointed with
severity. Before the siege of Fort Motte, a tory ensign had frequently
amused himself, and provoked the ladies, by taunts levelled against the
whigs, sometimes giving the names of the prominent commanders to pine
saplings, while he struck off their heads with his weapon. After the
surrender, Mrs. Brewton was cruel enough, meeting this young man on
the spot where he had uttered these bravadoes, to request, sportively,
another exhibition of his prowess, and regret that the loss of his sword
did not permit him to gratify her.
Not long after this, Mrs. Brewton obtained permission to go to
Charleston. An officer in the city inquiring the news from the country,
she answered "that all nature smiled, for every thing was _Greene_,
down to Monk's Corner." This _bon mot_ was noticed by an order for her
immediate departure; she was obliged to leave the city at a late hour,
but permitted to return the following day. Her ready wit procured her
still further ill-will. An officer going into the country offered to
take charge of letters to her friends. She replied, "I should like
to write, but have no idea of having my letters read at the head of
Marion's brigade." The officer returned in a few days on parole, having
been taken prisoner by Marion, and called to pay his thanks, as he said,
to her for having communicated the intelligence of his movements.
The society of this sprightly and fascinating widow appears to have been
much sought by the more cultivated among the British, who enjoyed her
brilliant conversation, while they winced under her sarcasm. One day
when walking in Broad street, wearing deep mourning, according to the
custom of the whig ladies, she was joined by an English officer. They
were passing the house of Governor Rutledge, then occupied by Colonel
Moncrief, when taking a piece of crape that had been accidently torn
from the flounce of her dress, she tied it to the front railing,
expressing at the same time her sorrow for the Governor's absence,
and her opinion that his house, as well as his friends, ought to wear
mourning. It was but a few hours after this act of daring, that the
patriotic lady was arrested and sent to Philadelphia.
* Note.--Mrs. Motte's arrows, which have become so famous in history,
had been given as a curiosity--being poisoned--by an East India
captain to her brother, Miles Brewton. After his loss at sea, they were
accidentally put among some household articles belonging to Mrs. Motte,
and in her several removals for quiet and security, chanced to be taken
to "Buckhead" in the hurried transportation of her effects.