| | 1 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The partisan  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Our narrative begins in South Carolina, during the
summer of 1780. The arms of the British were at that
time triumphant throughout the colony. Their armies
overran it. Charlestown, the chief city, had stood a
siege, and had fallen, after a protracted and honourable
defence. One-half of the military strength of the lower
country, then the most populous region, had become prisoners
of war by this disaster; and, for the present, were
thus incapacitated from giving any assistance to their
brethren in arms. Scattered, crushed, and disheartened
by repeated failures, the whigs, in numerous instances,
hopeless of any better fortune, had given in their adhesion
to the enemy, and had received a pledge of British
protection. This protection secured them, as it was
thought, in their property and persons, and its conditions
simply called for their neutrality. Many of the
more firm and honourably tenacious, scorning all compromise
with invasion, fled for shelter to the swamps
and mountains; and, through the former, all Europe
could not have traced their footsteps. In the whole
state, at this period, the cause of American liberty had
no head, and almost as little hope: all was gloomy and
unpromising. Marion, afterward styled the “Swamp
Fox,” and Sumter, the “Game Cock”—epithets aptly
descriptive of their several military attributes—had not
yet properly risen in arms, though both of them had
been engaged already in active and successful service.
Their places of retreat were at this time unknown;
and, certainly, they were not then looked to, as at an
after period, with that anxious reliance which their
valour subsequently taught their countrymen to entertain.
Nothing, indeed, could be more deplorably prostrate
than were the energies of the colony. Here and
there, only, did some little partisan squad make a stand,
or offer a show of resistance to the incursive British
or the marauding and malignant tory—disbanding, if
not defeated, most usually after the temporary object
had been obtained, and retreating for security into shelter
and inaction. There was no sort of concert, save
in feeling, among the many who were still not unwilling
for the fight: they doubted or they dreaded one
another; they knew not whom to trust. The next-door
neighbour of the stanch whig was not unfrequently a
furious loyalist—as devoted to George the Third as the
other could have been to the intrinsic beauty of human
liberty. The contest of the Revolution, so far as it had
gone, had confirmed and made tenacious this spirit of
hostility and opposition, until, in the end, patriot and
loyalist had drawn the sword against one another, and
rebel and tory were the degrading epithets by which
they severally distinguished the individual whose throat
they strove to cut. When the metropolis fell into the
hands of the British, and their arms extended through
the state, the tories alone were active and formidable.
They now took satisfaction for their own previous
trials; and crime was never so dreadful a monster as
when they ministered to its appetites. Mingled in with
the regular troops of the British, or forming separate
bodies of their own, and officered from among themselves,
they penetrated the well-known recesses which
gave shelter to the fugitives. If the rebel resisted, they
slew him without quarter; if he submitted, they hung
him without benefit of clergy: they spoiled his children
of their possessions, and not unfrequently slew them
also. But few sections of the low and middle country
escaped their search. It was only in the bald regions
of North Carolina that the fugitives could find repose;
only where the most miserable poverty took from crime
all temptation, that the beaten and maltreated patriots
dared to give themselves a breathing-space from flight.
In the same manner the frontier-colony of Georgia had
already been overrun and ravaged by the conquerors;
and there, as it was less capable of resistance, all show
of opposition had been long since at an end. The invader,
deceived by these appearances, declared in
swelling language to his monarch, that the two colonies
were properly subjugated, and would now return
to their obedience. He knew not that, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
|
