The Life of General Francis Marion - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
At length after a fortnight's absence, he came over to the fort, and entering the marquee, where Marion was sitting with his officers, he began to bow and sc.r.a.pe. As if not perceiving him, Marion turned his head another way. The lieutenant then, exceedingly embarra.s.sed, came out with his apology, -- "I am sorry, sir, to have outstayed my time so long; but -- but I could not help it -- but now I am returned to do my duty."
Marion turned very quickly upon him, and with a most mortifying neglect, said, "Aye, lieutenant, is that you? Well, never mind it -- there is no harm done -- I never missed you."
The poor lieutenant was so completely cut up, that he could not say a word, but sneaked off, hanging down his head, and looked much more like a detected swindler than a gentleman soldier.
The officers, who were all prodigiously pleased with his confusion, presently went out and began to rally him -- "Ah, ha, lieutenant, and so the captain has given you a set down."
"A set down," replied he, very angrily, "a set down, do you call it!
I had rather a thousand times he had knocked me down -- an ugly, cross, knock-kneed, hook-nosed son of a b-t-h!"
The officers almost split their sides with laughing.
The story soon took wind; and the poor lieutenant did not hear the last of it for many a day. I have often heard him say, that nothing ever so completely confounded him, as did that dry, cutting speech of Marion.
"I was never at a loss before," said he, "to manage all other officers that were ever set over me. As for our colonel, (meaning Moultrie) he is a fine, honest, good-natured old buck. But I can wind him round my finger like a pack thread. But as for the stern, keen-eyed Marion, I dread him."
The truth is, Marion wished his officers to be gentlemen.
And whenever he saw one of them acting below that character, he would generously attempt his reformation. And few men, perhaps, ever knew better how to manage truants from duty.
To a coa.r.s.e, conceited chap, like our lieutenant, Marion gave no quarter, but checked him at once, but still in a way that was quite gentlemanly, and calculated to overawe. He kept him at arms' length -- took no freedoms with him -- nor allowed any -- and when visited on business, he would receive and treat him with a formality sufficient to let him see that all was not right.
The effect of such management evinced the correctness of Marion's judgment.
The young lieutenant became remarkably polite, and also attentive to duty.
In short, no subaltern behaved better. And this very happy change in his manners, was soon succeeded by as pleasing a change in the sentiments of all around him. The officers of the regiment grew fond of him -- Marion spoke of him with pleasure, as an excellent soldier -- and he of Marion, as his best friend.
This is sufficient to show the truth of the remark made by Aristotle -- "that there is no art so difficult and G.o.dlike as that of managing men to their own happiness and glory."
Chapter 4.
The clouds of danger darker and darker -- two additional regiments raised -- Marion promoted to a majority -- fort Moultrie built -- A British fleet and army invade Carolina -- grand preparations to receive them -- admirable patriotism of the Charleston ladies -- heavy attack on fort Moultrie -- glorious defence of the garrison.
The cloud of war growing still darker and darker every day, the council of safety determined to raise a regiment of artillery, and another of infantry. In consequence of this, several of the officers of the former regiments were promoted. Among these was my friend Marion, who from the rank of captain, was raised to a majority.
His field of duties became, of course, much more wide and difficult, but he seemed to come forward to the discharge of them with the familiarity and alertness of one who, as general Moultrie used to say, was born a soldier. In fact, he appeared never so happy, never so completely in his element, as when he had his officers and men out on parade at close training. And for cleanliness of person, neatness of dress, and gentlemanly manners, with celerity and exactness in performing their evolutions, they soon became the admiration and praise both of citizens and soldiers. And indeed I am not afraid to say that Marion was the 'architect' of the second regiment, and laid the foundation of that excellent discipline and confidence in themselves, which gained them such reputation whenever they were brought to face their enemies.
In March, 1776, I was sent over with my company, to Sullivan's island, to prevent the landing of the British from the men-of-war, the Cherokee and Tamar, then lying in Rebellion road. I had not been long on that station, before Col. Moultrie came over with his whole regiment to erect a fort on the island.
The truth is, the governor had of late become confoundedly afraid of a visit from the British. The great wealth in Charleston must, he thought, by this time, have set their honest fingers to itching -- and we also suspected that they could hardly be ignorant what a number of poor deluded gentlemen, called tories, we had among us.
The arrival of colonel Moultrie, with the second regiment, afforded me infinite satisfaction. It brought me once more to act in concert with Marion.
'Tis true, he had got one grade above me in the line of preferment; but, thank G.o.d, I never minded that. I loved Marion, and "love,"
as every body knows, "envieth not." We met like brothers.
I read in his looks the smiling evidence of his love towards me: and I felt the strongest wish to perpetuate his partiality.
Friends.h.i.+p was gay within my heart, and thenceforth all nature WITHOUT put on her loveliest aspects. The island of sand no longer seemed a dreary waste. Brighter rolled the blue waves of ocean beneath the golden beam; and sweeter murmured the billows on their sandy beach.
My heart rejoiced with the playful fishes, as they leaped high wantoning in the air, or, with sudden flounce, returned again, wild darting through their lucid element. Our work went on in joy.
The palmetto trees were brought to us by the blacks, in large rafts, of which we constructed, for our fort, an immense pen, two hundred feet long, and sixteen feet wide, filled with sand to stop the shot.
For our platforms, we had two-inch oak planks, nailed down with iron spikes.
With glad hearts we then got up our carriages and mounted our guns, of which twelve were 18 pounders -- twelve 24's, and twelve French 36's, equal to English 42's.
A general joy was spread over the faces of our regiment, as we looked along our battery of thunderers.
But our glorifying, under G.o.d, was chiefly in our two and forty pounders.
And indeed their appearance was terrible, where they lay with wide Cerberean mouths, hideously gaping over the roaring waves, and threatening destruction to the foes of liberty.
They were soon called to a trial of their metal. -- For on the 31st of May, while we were all busily driving on with our fort, suddenly a cry was heard, "a fleet! a fleet, ho!" Looking out to sea, we all at once beheld, as it were, a wilderness of s.h.i.+ps, hanging, like snow-white clouds from the north-east sky. It was the sirs Parker and Clinton, hastening on with nine s.h.i.+ps of war and thirty transports, bearing three thousand land forces, to attack Charleston.
Such an armament was an awful novelty, that produced on us all a momentary flutter; but, thank G.o.d, no serious fear. On the contrary, it was very visible in every glowing cheek and sparkling eye, as we looked, LAUGHING, on one another, that we considered the approaching conflict as a grand trial of courage, which we rather desired than dreaded.
And to their equal praise, our gallant countrymen in Charleston, as we learned daily, by the boats, were all in fine spirits, and constantly making their best preparations to receive the enemy.
And still my pen trembles in my hand; even after this long lapse of time, it trembles with wonder and delight, to tell of that immortal fire, which in those perilous days, glowed in the bosoms of the Charleston FAIR.
Instead of gloomy sadness and tears, for the dark cloud that threatened their city, they wore the most enlivening looks -- constantly talked the boldest language of patriotism -- animated their husbands, brothers, and lovers to fight bravely -- and, for themselves, they vowed they would "never live the slaves of Britain."
Some people in our days, may not believe me, when I add of these n.o.bLE ladies, that they actually begged leave of their commandant, to let them "fight by the sides of their relatives and friends."
This, though a glorious request, was absolutely refused them.
For who could bear to see the sweet face of beauty roughened over with the hard frowns of war; or, the warrior's musket, on those tender bosoms, formed of heaven only to pillow up the cheeks of happy husbands, and of smiling babes?
But though the SPIRITS of the ladies were willing, their NERVES were weak; for when the British s.h.i.+ps of war hove in sight, opposite to the town, they all went down to the sh.o.r.e to view them. And then strong fear, like the cold wind of autumn, struck their tender frames with trembling, and bleached their rosy cheeks. Some, indeed, of the younger sort, affected to laugh and boast; but the generality returned silent and pensive, as from a funeral, hanging their lovely heads, like rows of sickly jonquils, when the sun has forsaken the garden, and faded nature mourns his departed beams. Sisters were often seen to turn pale and sigh, when they looked on their youthful brothers, while tender mothers, looking down on their infant cherubs at the breast, let drop their pearly sorrows, and exclaimed, "happy the wombs that bear not, and the paps that give no suck."
In consequence of a most extraordinary continuation of calms, baffling winds, and neap tides, the enemy's s.h.i.+ps never got within our bar till the 27th of June, and on the following morn, the memorable 28th, they weighed anchor on the young flood, and before a fine breeze, with top gallant sails, royals, and sky sc.r.a.pers all drawing, came bearing up for the fort like floating mountains.
The anxious reader must not suppose that we were standing all this while, with finger in mouth, idly gaping like children on a raree show.
No, by the Living! but, fast as they neared us, we still kept our thunders close bearing upon them, like infernal pointers at a dead set; and as soon as they were come within point blank shot, we clapped our matches and gave them a tornado of round and double-headed bullets, which made many a poor Englishman's head ache. Nor were they long in our debt, but letting go their anchors and clewing up their sails, which they did in a trice, they opened all their batteries, and broke loose upon us with a roar as if heaven and earth had been coming together.
Such a sudden burst of flame and thunder, could not but make us feel very queer at first, especially as we were young hands, and had never been engaged in such an awful scene before.
But a few rounds presently brought us all to rights again, and then, with heads bound up, and stripped to the buff, we plied our bull-dogs like heroes.
The British outnumbered us in men and guns, at least three to one, but then our guns, some of them at least, were much the heaviest, carrying b.a.l.l.s of two and forty pounds weight! and when the monsters, crammed to the throat with chained shot and infernal fire, let out, it was with such hideous peals as made both earth and ocean tremble.
At one time it appeared as though, by a strange kind of accident, all their broad-sides had struck us at once, which made the fort tremble again. But our palmettoes stood the fire to a miracle, closed up without sign of splinter, on their shot, which was stopped by the intermediate sand; while, on the other hand, every bullet that we fired, went through and through their s.h.i.+ps, smas.h.i.+ng alike sailors, timber heads, and iron anchors, in their furious course.
And thus was the order of our battle -- there, a line of seven tall s.h.i.+ps; and here, one little, solitary fort -- there, British discipline; and here, American enthusiasm -- there, brave men fighting for a tyrant; and here, heroes contending for liberty. I am old now, and have forgotten many things, but never shall I forget the heart-burnings of that day, when I heard the blast of those rude cannon, that bade me be a slave; and still my aged bosom swells with the big joy when I hear, which I often do in fancy's ear, the answer of our faithful bull-dogs, as with deafening roar, lurid flame and smoke, they hurled back their iron curses on the wicked claim. But alas! for lack of ammunition, our opening victory was soon nipped like a luckless flower, in the bud: for the contest had hardly lasted an hour, before our powder was so expended that we were obliged, in a great measure, to silence our guns, which was matter of infinite mortification to us, both because of the grief it gave our friends, and the high triumph it afforded our enemies.
"Powder! Powder! millions for powder!" was our constant cry.
Oh! had we but had plenty of that 'noisy kill-seed', as the Scotchmen call it, not one of those tall s.h.i.+ps would ever have revisited Neptune's green dominion. They must inevitably have struck, or laid their vast hulks along-side the fort, as hurdles for the snail-loving 'sheep's heads'.
Indeed, small as our stock of ammunition was, we made several of their s.h.i.+ps look like sieves, and smell like slaughter pens. The commodore's s.h.i.+p, the Bristol, had fifty men killed, and upwards of one hundred wounded!
The laurels of the second regiment can never fade -- the destructive effect of their fire gave glorious proof, that they loaded and levelled their pieces like men who wished every shot to tell. They all fought like veterans; but the behavior of some was gallant beyond compare; and the humble names of Jasper and M'Donald shall be remembered, when those of proud kings shall be forgotten.
A ball from the enemy's s.h.i.+ps carried away our flag-staff.
Scarcely had the stars of liberty touched the sand, before Jasper flew and s.n.a.t.c.hed them up and kissed them with great enthusiasm.
Then having fixed them to the point of his spontoon, he leaped up on the breast-work amidst the storm and fury of the battle, and restored them to their daring station -- waving his hat at the same time and huzzaing, "G.o.d save liberty and my country for ever!"
As to sergeant M'Donald, while fighting like a hero, at his gun, a cannon ball came in at the port hole, and mangled him miserably.
As he was borne off, he lifted his dying eyes, and said to his comrades, "Huzza, my brave fellows, I die, but don't let the cause of liberty die with me."
The effect of our last gun, and which happened to be fired by Marion, is too remarkable to be lost. It was his lot that day to command the left wing of the fort, where many of our heaviest cannon were planted.
As from lack of powder, we were obliged to fire very slow, Marion would often level the guns himself. And now comes my story. -- Just after sunset the enemy's s.h.i.+ps ceased firing, and slipping their cables, began to move off. Pleased with the event, an officer on the quarter deck of the Bristol man-of-war, called out to his comrade, "Well, d--n my eyes, Frank, the play is over! so let's go below and hob n.o.b to a gla.s.s of wine, for I am devilish dry!"
"With all my heart, Jack;" replied the other; so down they whipped into the cabin, where the wine and gla.s.ses had been standing all day on the table. At that moment, one of our two and forty pounders being just loaded, Marion called to colonel Moultrie, and asked him if it would not be well enough to give them the last blow.
"Yes," replied Moultrie, "give them the parting kick."