The Life of Francis Marion [98]
at a distance of three hundred yards.
Marion, the next day, took post on a ridge below the ford of the river, which is still popularly called "The General's Island". His rifles still effectually commanded the passage and baffled every attempt of Watson to cross. Pushing M`Cottry and Conyers over the river, they exercised themselves in cutting off his patrols and picquets. To save himself from these annoyances, Watson retreated a little higher up the river and pitched his camp at Blakeley's plantation, in the most open field that he could find. Here he remained for ten days almost environed by his adroit and active enemy. Night and day was he kept in a condition of alarm and apprehension. The cavalry beat up his quarters when he slept, while the riflemen picked off his men the moment they exposed themselves. It was while he was in this situation that the brave Capt. Conyers presented himself daily before the lines of the enemy, either as a single cavalier, or at the head of his troop, demanding an opponent. The anecdote has been already narrated in another chapter.
The temper of Watson was very much subdued by this sort of warfare. His next letter to Marion was of very different tone from that sent but a few days before. He now solicits a pass from his enemy for Lieut. Torriano and others wounded, whom he desired to send to Charleston. This was promptly granted. Meanwhile he employed a negro from Chevin's plantation to carry a letter to the commandant at Georgetown. In endeavoring to make his way, the negro was killed and the letter fell into the hands of Marion. It contained a woful complaint of the unfair mode of fighting pursued by the partisans, and implored a reinforcement.* In fact Watson was literally besieged. His supplies were cut off, his progress arrested, and so many of his men perished in the continual skirmishing, that he is reported by tradition to have sunk them in Black river in order to conceal their numbers. He was finally compelled to decamp. If his path was beset with dangers, it was death to remain in his present situation. Making a forced march down the Georgetown road, he paused when he reached Ox swamp, six miles below the lower bridge. His flight had been harassed by light parties of the Americans; but here he found them prepared for, and awaiting him. The road through which he was to pass, was skirted by a thick boggy swamp, and before him the causeway was covered with trees which had been felled to obstruct his passage. The bridges were destroyed, and Marion lay directly in his path, prepared for a final encounter. Watson shrunk from the prospect, and determined upon another route. Wheeling to the right he dashed through the open pine woods, for the Santee road, about fifteen miles. When overtaken by Marion upon this road, his infantry were hurrying forward, like horses, at a full trot. But few natural obstacles attended his progress on this path, and the extraordinary rapidity of his flight had put him considerably ahead of his pursuers. But he was not yet to escape. The cavalry of Horry, and the riflemen of M`Cottry, galled him at every step in flank and rear. When he reached Sampit bridge a last skirmish took place, which might have terminated in the complete defeat of the enemy, but for the cowardice of a Lieut. Scott, of Horry's detachment. Watson was attacked fiercely in the flank and rear by the whole force of Marion. His horse was killed, and his own life endangered. The affair was equally short and sharp, and had it not been that the ambush placed by Horry failed to discharge its duty, Watson would, in all probability, never have reached Georgetown, or only reached it on parole. He gained it finally in safety, thoroughly harassed and discomfited by the subtle enemy whom he had gone forth, with a superior force, and a confident hope, to destroy or capture.
-- * Horry's MS. --
But the success of our partisan against Watson did not necessarily dispose of his enemies. While he had been engaged in the events, as just given, Col. Doyle had succeeded in penetrating
Marion, the next day, took post on a ridge below the ford of the river, which is still popularly called "The General's Island". His rifles still effectually commanded the passage and baffled every attempt of Watson to cross. Pushing M`Cottry and Conyers over the river, they exercised themselves in cutting off his patrols and picquets. To save himself from these annoyances, Watson retreated a little higher up the river and pitched his camp at Blakeley's plantation, in the most open field that he could find. Here he remained for ten days almost environed by his adroit and active enemy. Night and day was he kept in a condition of alarm and apprehension. The cavalry beat up his quarters when he slept, while the riflemen picked off his men the moment they exposed themselves. It was while he was in this situation that the brave Capt. Conyers presented himself daily before the lines of the enemy, either as a single cavalier, or at the head of his troop, demanding an opponent. The anecdote has been already narrated in another chapter.
The temper of Watson was very much subdued by this sort of warfare. His next letter to Marion was of very different tone from that sent but a few days before. He now solicits a pass from his enemy for Lieut. Torriano and others wounded, whom he desired to send to Charleston. This was promptly granted. Meanwhile he employed a negro from Chevin's plantation to carry a letter to the commandant at Georgetown. In endeavoring to make his way, the negro was killed and the letter fell into the hands of Marion. It contained a woful complaint of the unfair mode of fighting pursued by the partisans, and implored a reinforcement.* In fact Watson was literally besieged. His supplies were cut off, his progress arrested, and so many of his men perished in the continual skirmishing, that he is reported by tradition to have sunk them in Black river in order to conceal their numbers. He was finally compelled to decamp. If his path was beset with dangers, it was death to remain in his present situation. Making a forced march down the Georgetown road, he paused when he reached Ox swamp, six miles below the lower bridge. His flight had been harassed by light parties of the Americans; but here he found them prepared for, and awaiting him. The road through which he was to pass, was skirted by a thick boggy swamp, and before him the causeway was covered with trees which had been felled to obstruct his passage. The bridges were destroyed, and Marion lay directly in his path, prepared for a final encounter. Watson shrunk from the prospect, and determined upon another route. Wheeling to the right he dashed through the open pine woods, for the Santee road, about fifteen miles. When overtaken by Marion upon this road, his infantry were hurrying forward, like horses, at a full trot. But few natural obstacles attended his progress on this path, and the extraordinary rapidity of his flight had put him considerably ahead of his pursuers. But he was not yet to escape. The cavalry of Horry, and the riflemen of M`Cottry, galled him at every step in flank and rear. When he reached Sampit bridge a last skirmish took place, which might have terminated in the complete defeat of the enemy, but for the cowardice of a Lieut. Scott, of Horry's detachment. Watson was attacked fiercely in the flank and rear by the whole force of Marion. His horse was killed, and his own life endangered. The affair was equally short and sharp, and had it not been that the ambush placed by Horry failed to discharge its duty, Watson would, in all probability, never have reached Georgetown, or only reached it on parole. He gained it finally in safety, thoroughly harassed and discomfited by the subtle enemy whom he had gone forth, with a superior force, and a confident hope, to destroy or capture.
-- * Horry's MS. --
But the success of our partisan against Watson did not necessarily dispose of his enemies. While he had been engaged in the events, as just given, Col. Doyle had succeeded in penetrating