University of Virginia Library

1. I.

The Yemassee was no longer the great nation.
They had set their fortunes upon a cast, and the
throw was fatal. Civilization triumphed. The
Carolinians, in spite of the sudden massacres under
which they had suffered at the beginning of the
war, were at length successful; and at Coosawhatchie,
or the “town of refuge,” the Yemassees
lost their best leaders. With these, they lost
all spirit, and their surviving warriors were unequal
to the task of restoring their fortunes. Scattered
and without counsel, they yet fled, as if by a common
instinct, to their sacred town of Pocota-ligo,
where, in the presence of their priests and the protection
of their gods, they had faint hopes yet of
effecting by prayers and superstitious ceremonies,
what, hitherto, their own fearless valor had utterly

failed to accomplish. Their resources were now
nearly exhausted — their villages in flames; and relying
as they had done, upon the hope of obtaining
possession of the chief city and provisions of
the whites, their fields had, in the greater number
of cases, been left without cultivation. Their
Spanish allies, always deceitful, after stimulating
them to war, had left them to contend with it single
handed. On hearing of the defeat and slaughter
of the Yemassees, such of them as had been sent
from St. Augustine to their succor, returned to the
shelter of its walls, under the influence of a sudden
panic. The neighboring Indian tribes followed
the base example, and either returned to their forests,
or made concessions, and bound themselves
by treaty to the conquerors, giving hostages for
their future good behavior. Not so with the unhappy
Yemassees. They were still too proud to
beg for that peace, which they yet needed more
than all, and which alone could save them from extermination.
They were too brave to desire peace
when their slain brothers remained unavenged.
They resolved, therefore, to carry on the struggle
to the last; and, crowding into the holy town of
Pocota-ligo, they proceeded to strengthen themselves
in their position, as well as they might,
there to await the approach of the Carolinians.
They fortified the town, somewhat after the fashion
of the European settlers, with the trunks of trees
and the larger branches, rudely bedded together.
This done, divided between hopes and fears, they
passed the brief time which elapsed between their
preparations and the assault. They had not long to
wait. Their defences, which, manned by Europeans,
and against savages, might have proved
adequate to their purposes, proved no barrier
against the pursuer. The impetuous onset of their
sanguine assailants could not be withstood by those,
made already apprehensive by previous experience,
of the result; and their frail bulwarks were stormed,
and Pocota-ligo in flames, in the same fearful hour
of assault. The scene was terrible; but, though
despairing, the Indians did not think of flight.
The men fell, and the women filled their places.
A dreadful massacre ensued: naked and howling,
but tearing and rending as they ran, men, women,
and children, darted to and from the blazing dwellings,
shrieking for that revenge which they could
obtain in part only. They neither gave nor asked
for quarter; and in the darkness of night and the
confusion of the scene, they were enabled to protract
the conflict with the success which must always
follow courage, and the valor of men fighting
fearlessly for their homes. Through the night the
battle lasted, but as soon as the day broke upon
them, the struggle was over. The first glimpses
of the morning found the bayonet at the heart of
the few surviving warriors, who still lived, but only
at the mercy of those to whom in all their successes
they had shown no mercy. But few of them escaped.
Before sunrise, the fight was ended, and
the great nation of the Yemassees was stricken from
existence.