The scout; or, The Black riders of Congaree

CHAPTER I. HISTORICAL SUMMARY. — THE SWAMP RETREA'i

At the period when our story opens, the 'colonies of North America united in resistance to the mother-country, had closed the fifth year of their war of independence. The scene of conflict was by this time almost wholly transferred from the northern to the southern colonies. The former were permitted to repose from the struggle ; in their security almost ceasing to recognise thv necessity of arms ; while the latter, as if to compensate for their respite, in the beginning of the conflict, were subjected to the worst aspects and i images of war. The south, wholly abandoned to its fate by the colonies north of the Potomac, was unequal to the struggle single-handed. Their efforts at defence, however earnestly made, were for a time, apparently made in vain. Inexperienced in regular warfare, with officers as indiscreet and cash as brave, they were everywhere exposed to surprise and consequently to defeat. They lacked money, rather than men, experience and training, rather than courage, concentration and unity, rather than strength. The two frontier colonies, South Carolina and Georgia — most feeble and most exposed, as lying upon the borders of Florida, which adhered to the crown, and which had proved a realm of refuge to all the loyalists when driven out from the other colonies — were supposed by the Bri*

THE SCOUT.

ish commanders to be entirely recovered to the sway of their master. They suffered, in consequence, the usual fortune of the vanquished. But the very suffering proved that they lived, and the struggle for freedom was continued. Her battles,

“ Once begun,

Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son,

Though often lost,”

were never considered by her friends in Carolina to be utterly hopeless. Still, they had frequent reason to despair. Gates, the successful commander at Saratoga, upon whose great renown and feeble army the hopes of the south, for a season, appeared wholly to depend, had suffered a terrible defeat at Camden — his militia scattered to the four winds of Heaven-— his regulars almost annihilated in a conflict with thrice their number, which, for fierce encounter and determined resolution, has never been surpassed ; while he, himself, a fugitive, covered with shame and disappointment, vainly hung out his tattered banner in the wilds of North Carolina — a colony sunk into an apathy which as effectually paralysed her exertions, as did the presence of superior power paralyse those of her more suffering sisters. Conscious of indiscretion and a most fatal presumption — the punishment of which had been as sudden as it was severe — the defeated general suffered far less from apprehension of his foes, than of his country. He had madly risked her strength, at a perilous moment, in a pitched battle, for which he had made no preparation — in which he had shown neither resolution nor ability. The laurels of his old renown withered in an instant— his reputation was stained with doubt, if not with dishonor. He stood, anxious and desponding, awaiting, with whatever moral strength he could command, the summons to that tribunal of his peers, upon which depended all the remaining honors of his venerable head.

General Greene succeeded to the command of the miserable remnant of the southern army. Cool, prudent, and circumspect, rather than brilliant, as a soldier, this gentleman was, perhaps, one of the best that could be chosen for directing the efforts of a people whose impulses but too frequently impaired their conduct — who were too eager to be wary, and who suffered per-

HISTORICAL SUMMARY.

petually from tlic rash and headstrong courage of their native leaders and their own indifference to the usual duties which belong to a vigilant and cautious command. The enterprise which moved Greene to reconduct the continentals and the southern militia, back to South Carolina, then wholly in the possession of the British, has been described as singularly bold and audacious. But how he could have achieved the deliverance of the country, without pressing into it, we do not see. To enter the disputed province, to seek, find, and fight his enemy, was the very business for which he had been despatched, and the only question is as to the conduct which he should display, in contrast with that of Gates. His true merit lay in the prudence with which he prosecuted an enterprise, which the latter had sacrificed by conceit and improvidence. The genius of Greene was eminently cautious, and his progress in South Carolina was unmarked by any rashness of movement, or extravagance of design. He was very soon made conscious that, with the mere fragments of an army — and such an army! — naked men, undrilled militia, few in number, disheartened by defeat, unprovided with arms — he could hope for nothing but disaster, unless through the exercise of that ever-watchful thought, and rigorous prudence, by which, almost wholly, the great captain is distin guished. His wariness formed an essential part of his resolu tion, and quite as much as his valor, contributed to effect his object. If bo did not always beat, he at length succeeded in finally baffling his opponents. He avoided the conflict which the more presumptuous Gates had too rashly invited. To baffle the invader, he well knew, was the best policy bjt which to conquer him. The fatigue of forced marches and frequent alarms to the soldier, in an unknown and hostile country, is more discouraging than the actual fight with a superior foe. Every hour of delay added to the army of Greene while it diminished that of the British. The militia recovered breath and courage, and once more rallied around the continental standard. Small but select bodies of troops came to her aid from the neighboring states. North Carolina began to arouse and shake herself free from her slumbers. Her yeomen began to feel the shame of previous flight and inaction. Virginia, though scarcely so active

i*

THE SCOUT.

as her own safety and sense of duty should have made, her, was not altogether indifferent to the earnest entreaties for assistance of the general of the south ; and from Maryland and Delaware came a band, few but fearless, and surpassed by none of all the troops that wen ever raised in America. The tried and tough natives of the mountains and the swamps emerged once more from their hiding-places under their ancient leaders ; more resolute in the cause of liberty, and more vigorous in their labors for its attainment, from the shame and the sorrow which fol- 'owed their previous and frequent disappointments.

The countenance of the British commander became troubled as he surveyed the gathering aspects of evil in that horizon, from which he fondly fancied that he had banished 6very cloud. His troops were summoned to arms and to renewed activity ; and Greene was no longer in a condition to elqde the* arms of his adversary. Nor did he now so much desire it. The accessions of force which his army had received, and which drew upon him the regards of Lord Cornwallis, had necessarily encouraged the American general, and inspirited his purposes. His policy, though still properly cautious, lost something of its seeming timidity; and he boldly penetrated, in the face of the foe, into the state which he came to deliver. A series of small and indecisive, but brilliant adventures, which followed the dispersion of his light troops over the country, contributed equally to enliven the hopes of the commander and the courage of his men. rhe battle of King’s Mountain had been fought by the brave mountaineers of Virginia, and the two Carolinas, in which the British force under Ferguson — their ablest partisan commander in the south — was utterly annihilated. Tarleton, hitherto invincible, was beaten by Morgan at the Cowpens, with a vastly inferior army; while Marion, smiting. the torics, hip and thigh, in the swamps below, and Sumter, in a succession of brilliant and rapid actions, in the middle country, had paralyzed the activity and impaired seriously the strength of those smaller parties of the British, which were employed to overawe the inhabitants and secure the conquests which had been already made. In an inconceivably short space of time, the aspect of things in South Carolina underwent a change. The panic which

HISTORICAL SUMMARY.

II

’ followed tlie defeat of Gates, had worn off. Disaffection so effectually showed itself in every section of the state, that the British power was found active and operative only in those portions where they held strong garrisons. Greene, however, while these events were passing, was kept sufficiently employed b} r the able captains who opposed him. Brought to action at Guilford, he was forced, rather than beaten, from the field; and a few days enabled him to turn upon his pursuer, and to dog his flight from the state which he could not keep, to that in which he became a captive. •

But,, in leaving Carolina, Cornwallis left the interests of his master in the custody of no inferior representative. Lord Raw T don, afterward the earl of Moira, succeeded him in the command. He was unquestionably one of the ablest general officers of tbe British army; and through a protracted trial of strength with his opponent, he sustained the duties of his trust with equal skill, vigilance, and valor. The descent of Greene into South Carolina, brought him intp that same neighborhood which had proved so fatal to Gates. His appearance was followed by the sharp action of Hobkirk’s Hill, in which Rawdon displayed many of those essential qualities of conduct 'which entitled him to the name of an able soldier. The field remained with the British, but it yielded them none but barren fruits. It gave them the triumph, but not the success. The victory was only not with Greene. It must have been, but for a misapprehension of his orders, on the part of one of his best officers, having commpfad of a favorite regiment.”

Our story opens at this period. The battle of Hobkirk’s Hill was productive of effects upon both of the contending parties, which brought about an equal crisis in their fortunes. The losses of the two armies on that occasion were nearly the same. But, in the case of Rawdon, the country offered but few resources against any external pressure; and immediate and utter ruin must have followed his defeat. He. had exhausted the means, ravaged the fields, trampled upon the feelings, and mocked the entreaties of the surrounding inhabitants. Despair had taught them a spirit of defiance and the appearance of an American army which was able to maintain its ground even

THE SCOUT.

after defeat, encouraged them to give to that feeling its proper utterance.

Conwallis had long before complained to the British ministry that he was “ surrounded by timid friends and inveterate foes and the diminution of British strength and courage, which necessarily followed the flight of that commander into Virginia, together with the defeats sustained at Cowpens and King’s Mountain, naturally enough increased the timidity of the one, and the inveteracy of the other party. That atrocious and reckless warfare between the Avhigs and tones, which had deluged the fair plains of Carolina with native blood, was now at its height. The parties, in the language of General Greene, pursued each other like wild beasts. Pity seemed utterly banished from their bosoms. Neither sex nor age was secure. Murder lurked upon the threshold, and conflagration lighted up, with the blazing fires of ruin, the still, dark hours of midnight. The reckless brutality of the invader furnished a sufficient example and provocation to these atrocities ; and the experience of ages has shown that hate never yet takes a form so hellish, as when it displays itself in the strifes of kindred.

1 1 does not need that we should inquire, at this late day, what were the causes that led to this division among a people, in that hour so unseasonably chosen for civil strife — the hour of foreign invasion. It is sufficient for our present purpose that the fact, however lamentable, is equally unquestionable and well known. Our narrative seeks to illustrate some of the events which grew out of, and characterized, this warfare. We shall be compelled to display, along with its virtues of courage, patriotism, and endurance, some of its crimes and horrors ! Yet vainly, as unwisely, would we desire to depict, in human language, its measureless atrocities. The heart would sicken, the mind revolt with loathing, at those hideous details, in which the actors seem to have studiously set themselves free from all the restraints of humanity. To burn and slay were not the simple performances of this reckless period and ravaged country. To burn in wantonness, and to murder in cold blood, and by the cruellest tortures, were the familiar achievements of the time; — and the criminal was too frequently found to exult over his evil deeds.

THE SWAMP RETREAT.

ffith he sanguinary enthusiasm of the Mohawk warrur, even tnmgli the avenging retribution stood beside him with warning finger and uplifted knife. The face of the country was overrun by outlaws. Detached bands of ruffians, formed upon the fim tiers of Georgia, and in the wilds of Florida — refugees from all the colonies — availed themselves of the absence of civil author ity to effect a lodgment in the swamps, the forests, and the mountains. These, mounted on fleet horses, traversed the state with the wind ; now here, now there ; one moment operating on the Savannah, the next on the Peedee ; sometimes descending within sight of the smokes of the metropolis ; and anon, building their own fires on the lofty summits of the Apalachian ridge.

Harassed by the predatory inroads of these outlawed squadons, stung by their insults, and maddened by their enormities, the more civil and suffering inhabitants gathered in little bands for their overthrow ; and South Carolina, at the period of our narrative, presented the terrible spectacle of an entire people in arms, and hourly engaging in the most sanguinary conflicts. The district of country called “Ninety-Six,” in the neighborhood of which our story will partly lie, is estimated to have had within its borders, at the close of the Revolution, no less than fifteen hundred widows and orphan 0 made so during its progress. Despair seems to have blinded the me party as effectually to the atrocity of their deeds, as that drunkenness of heart, which follows upon long-continued success, had made insensible the other ; — and as that hour is said to be the darkest which more immediately precedes the dawn, so was that the bloodiest in tlit fortunes of Carolina which ushered in the bright day of her deliverance. We now proceed with our narrative.

The dusky shadows of evening were approaching fast. Clouds, black with storm, that threatened momently to discharge their torrents, depended gloomily above the bosom of the Wateree. A deathlike stillness overhung the scene. The very breezes that had swayed the tops of the tall cypresses, and sported capriciously with the purple berries of the green vines that decorated them, had at length folded themselves up to slumber on the dark surface of the sluggish swamps below. N. voice of bird or i^t. no word of man, denoted, in that ghonfc

THE SCOUT.

like region, the presence of any form of life. Nothing in its as* pccts, certainly, co«ld persuade the casual wayfarer to suspect that a single human heart heat within those wild and dark recesses. Gloomy, and dense, and dim, at all seasons, the very tribute of the spring in this — the generous gifts of flowers and fiT.it age — only served to increase the depth of its shadow in the rank exuberance of its vegetable life. The vines, and shrubs, and briers, massed themselves together in an almost solid wall upon its edge, and forbade to penetrate ; and even where, through temporary vistas, the eye obtained a passage beyond this formidable barrier, the dismal lakes which it encountered — still and black — filled with the decayed trunks of past centuries, and surmounted by towering ranks of trees yet in the vigor of their growth, defied the examination or the curious, and seemed to rebuke, with frowning and threatening shadows, even the presumption of a search.

But, in the perilous times of our history, these seeming discouragements served the kindly purposes of security and shelter. The swamps of Carolina furnished a place of refuge to the patriot and fugitive, when the dwelling and the temple yielded none. The more dense the wall of briers upon the edge of the swamp, the more dismal the avenues within, the more acceptable to those who, preferring Liberty over all things, could there build her altars and tend her sacred fires, without being betrayed by their smokes. The scene to which our eyes have been addressed, still and deathlike as it appears, is full of life — of hearts that beat with hope, and spirits that burn with animation ; and Midden, even as we gaze, the sluggish waters of the lake are rippling into tiny waves that betray the onward motion of some unwonted burden. In the moment of its deepest silence, a rustling is heard among the green vines and crowding foliage. A gentle strife takes place between the broken waters and the rude trunks of the cypresses ; and the prow of an Indian canoe shoots suddenly through the tangled masses, and approaches the silent shore. There is no woid — no voice. A single person stands upright in the centre of the little vessel and guides it in its forward progress through the still lagune. Yet no dip of oar, no stroke of paddle betrays his efforts, and impairs the solemn

THE SWAMP RETREAT.

silence of the scene. His canoe speeds along as noiselessly and with as little effort, as did that fairy bark of Phsedria sung by Spenser, which carried Sir Guyon over the Idle lake to the Enchanted island : —

Or winged canvass with the wind to fly.”

The navigator of our little canoe is indebted for her progress to no magical “pin,” such as impelled the vessel of Phsedria and obeyed the least touch of that laughing enchantress. Still, the instrument which he employed, if less magical in its origin, was quite as simple in its use. It called for almost as little exertion of his arm. His wand of power was an ordinary cane, nearly twenty feet in length, the vigorous growth of the swamp around him, to the slender extremity of which, a hook, or finger, was fastened, formed out of the forked branches of some stubborn hickory ; one prong being tightly bound to the reed, by deersinews, while the other was left free, to take hold of the overhanging limbs of trees, or the waving folds of wandering vines or shrubs, impelling the bark forward in any direction, according to the will of the navigator. It was thus that our new acquaintance brought his “ dugout” forward to the shore from the secret recesses of the Wateree swamp. Its yellow waters parted, without a murmur, before his prow, at the slightest touch of this simple agent ; and the obedient fabric which it impelled with a corresponding flexibility, yielding itself readily, shot from side to side, through the sinuous avenues of the swamp, as if endued with a consciousness and impulse of its own; pressing along in silence and in shadow; now darting freely forward where the stream widened into little lakelets ; now buried in masses of the thicket, so dense and low, that the steersman was compelled to sink upon his knees in order to pass beneath the green umbrageous arches.

In such a progress the scene was not without its romance. Picturesque as was this mode of journeying, it had its concomitants by which it was rendered yet more so. The instrument which impelled the vessel, drew down to the hand of the steersman the massy vines of the thousand varieties of wild grape with which the middle country of Carolina is literally covered.

THE SCOUT.

These fling themselves with the wind in which they swing and sport, arching themselves from tree to tree, and interlacing their green tresses until the earth below becomes a stranger to the sun. Their blue clusters droop to the hand, and hang around the brows of the fainting and feeble partisan, returning from the conflict. He forgets the cruelties of his fellow man, in solacing himself with the grateful tributes which are yielded him by the bounteous nature. Their fruits relieve his hunger and quench his thirst — their green leaves refresh his eye — their shadows protect him from the burning sunbeams, and conceal him from the pursuit of the foe.

Dark, wild, and unlovely as the entrance of the swamp might seem, still, to the musing heart and contemplative spirit it had its aspects of beauty, if not of brightness ; and, regarded through the moral medium as a place of refuge to the virtuous and the good, when lovelier spots afforded none, it rises at once before the mind, into an object of sacred and serene delight. Its mysterious outlets, its Druid-like nooks, its little islands of repose, its solemn groves, and their adorning parasites, which clamber up and cling to its slender columns a hundred feet in air, flinging abroad their tendrils, laden with flaunting blossoms and purple berries — all combined to present a picture of strange but harmonious combination, to which the youthful steersman who guides our little bark is evidently not insensible. He pauses at moments in favorite spots, and his large blue eye seems to dilate as, looking upward, he catches some bright, but far and foreign glimpses of the heavens, through the raggec openings in the umbrageous forest. While he thus gazes up ward, seemingly forgetful of the present in the remote, we may observe him at our leisure.

His was a countenance to invite and reward examination. Were the features of the face sure indices always of the individual character — which we do not believe — those of the person now before us would not misbeseem those of a great landscape painter. Could we suppose that the season and region of which we write were favorable to such employments, --a might well suspect him of being a travelling artist. The calm, yet *eep contemplative eye ; the upward, outward look ; the waD

JHE SWAMP RETREAT .

iering mood ; tlie air of revery ; tlie delicate mouth ; the arching brow; — these, and other characteristics which are indefi nable, would seem to indicate in the proprietor a large taste foi the picturesque. Yet was there a something still about the stranger that declared, quite as strongly, for a stern decision of temper, a direct aim, an energetic will, and a prompt and rapid execution of his purposes. It would not, indeed, be altogethei safe to say, that, when he paused in his progress through the swamp, it was not because of some more serious purpose than belonged to a desire to contemplate the picturesque in its aspects. A just caution, the result of that severe experience which the Carolinians had suffered in the beginning of their conflict with the mother-country, may have prompted him to wai and watch, and listen, long before he approached the land. His movements were all marked by the vigilance of one who was fully conscious of the near neighborhood of danger. Before his vessel could emerge from the covert, and when a single moment would have thrust her against the shore, he grasped with his hook a swinging vine which he had already left behind him, and arrested her motion. His boat swung lightly upon her centre, and remained stationary for a brief instant, while, drawing from his vest a small whistle, made of the common reed, he uttered a clear, merry note, which went, waking up a hundred echoes, through the still recesses of the swamp. Ilis whistle, thrice repeated, brought him as many faint responses from the foot of the hills to which he was approaching. As if assured by these replies, our steersman threw up his cane once more, grappled with a bough beyond him, gave a single pull, and the bark shot forward. A mass of vines and overhanging branches, almost reaching to the water, lay between him and the spot of shore to which his prow was directed. As he neared this barrier, he threw himself flat in his boat, and she passed under it like an arrow, rush.ng up, in the next moment, upon the gravelly shore. He leaped instantly upon the bank, drew the canoe forward to the sheltei of a clump of bushes growing down to tlie water, and fastened her securely, and out of sight. Another whistle from the wooded hills above now seemed to indicate the route which he should take ; and, promptly following where it led, he was soon joined t

. *

THE SCOUT.

by one wno appeared to have been calmly expecting Ins appear ance. A description of the two thus meeting, with such a clew to tlieir objects as may seem proper to be given *t this early period m our progress, may well be reserved for another chapter.

Chapter II. The Friends A Conference

The stranger, as he leaped upon the solid earth, appeared of a noble and commanding presence. In shape he was symmetrically and vigorously made. Tall, erect, and muscular, his person was that of one who had been long accustomed to hardy and active exercises. In his movements there was a confident ease — the result equally of a fearless spirit and a noble form — which tallied well with a certain military exactness of carriage ; commending his well-finished limbs to the eye, while conveying to the mind of the observer an impression, not less favorable, of the noble and firm character of their proprietor. Nor were the features of his countenance wanting in anything which was needful to support this impression. His face was full, but not fleshy ; the skin of a clear red and white, which the summer sun had simply darkened into manliness. His eye, of a lively and intelligent blue, might have denoted a rather preponderating playfulness of temper, but for the sterner expression of his mouth, the lines of which were more angular than round, the lips being too thin for softness, and, when compressed, indicating a severe directness of purpose, which the gentler expression of his other features failed entirely to qualify. He had a lofty forehead, broad, intellectual and contemplative. His hair, which was of a dark brown, was long, and, like his beard, had been suffered to remain untrimmed, possibly as much in compliance with the laws of necessity as of taste. We have already intimated that the stranger was youthful. He had probably beheld

THE FRIENDS — A CONFERENCE.

some twenty-five or thirty summers, though it may he that premature toils and trials had anticipated the work of time, and made him seem somewhat older than he really was. He had, ii; the tout ensemble of his face, the appearance of one who had j arrived at the equal maturity of mind and body.

H is dress was simple, and characterized by as little pretension as could possibly he found in one who was not only young, but evidently in the military. In its material and make it corresponded with that of the ordinary woodmen of the country. His pantaloons consisted of a dark blue homespun, the legs being wrapped in leggings of a somewhat coarser texture and darker hue. From these the original dye had been obliterated in blotches, here and there ; or so obscured by stains from the yel- . low waters of the swamp, with which the wearer had been so recently familiar, that it would require a very discriminating eye to determine at a glance of what color they originally were. A hunting-shirt of a deeper blue than that of his under clothes, and perhaps of better material, which reached midway between his hips and knees, completed the essential parts of his costume. This portion of the dress was evidently made with some regard to the shape, and, possibly, the tastes of the wearer; a matter not so certainly clear in the case of the pantaloons. It fitted closely, without a wrinkle, and displayed the symmetry and muscle of his form to the greatest possible advantage. It had been ornamented, it would seem, in better days, with a deep fringe of a color somewhat more showy than that of the garment ; but of this only a few occasional traces now remained, to testify, mucli more effectually, to the trials through which it had passed, than its own former brightness and integrity. The little cape which suimounted the coat, and fell back upon the shoulders, had fared rather more fortunately than the rest of the garment, and formed no unseemly finish to the general fitness of the costume ; particularly as the wearer, with a better taste than prevailed then, or has prevailed since, had freed his neck from all the buckram restraints of gorget, cravat, or stock — bandages which fetter the movements of the head, without increasing its dignity or comfort. Enough of the broad sunburned bosom was revealed by the open shirt in front, to display

THE SCOUT.

that classic superiority of air of which modern fashions almost wholly deprive the noblest aspect. Upon his head, without shading his brow, rested a cap of otter-skin, rude and ample in its make, the work, most probably, of some favorite slave. A small yellow crescent, serving the purpose of a button, looped up one of the sides in the centre, and might, on occasion, have sustained a feather. Plain moccasins of buckskin, the original yellow of which had been entirely lost in the more doubtful colors acquired in the swamp, completed the externals of his dress. It maybe added that he wore no visible armor; but once, as he stooped to fasten his skiff beside the shore, the butt of a heavy pistol might have been seen protruding from beneath the thick folds of his hunting-shirt. From the unnatural fullness of the opposite breast, it would not be rash to conjecture that this weapon of war was not without its fellow.