The Life of General Francis Marion

Chapter 1.. Short Sketch of an Extraordinary French Couple, Viz.,

Short sketch of an extraordinary French couple, viz., the grandfather and mother of our hero -- their early and happy loves -- cruel persecution of the priests -- final expulsion from their native country -- providential settlement in South Carolina -- their prosperous and exemplary lives -- singular will of old Marion -- and birth of his grandson, Francis.

Immortal may their memory be Who fought and bled for liberty.

One thousand seven hundred and thirty-two was a glorious year for America. It gave birth to two of the noblest thunderbolts of her wars, George Washington and Francis Marion. The latter was born in St. John's parish, South Carolina. His father also was a Carolinian, but his grandfather was a Huguenot or French Protestant, who lived near Rochelle, in the blind and bigoted days of Louis XIV.

The priests, who are the persecutors in all countries except America, could not bear that he should worship God in his own way, or dream of going to heaven but in their leading strings, and therefore soon gave him to understand, that he must either "recant or trot"; that is, quit his heresy or his country.

Too brave to play the hypocrite, and too wise to hope for happiness with a "wounded spirit", he quickly made up his mind, and, like faithful Abraham, forsook his country, to wander an exile in lands unknown. The angel who guides the footsteps of the virtuous, directed his course to South Carolina; and as a reward for his piety, placed him in a land where mighty deeds and honors were ripening for his grandson. Nor did he wander alone. A cherub, in the form of a lovely wife, followed his fortunes, and gave him to know, from happy experience, that where love is, there is no exile.

Previous to his expulsion, the priests had, for some time, suspected young Marion of what they called "heresy". But, learning that he was enamoured of the beautiful and accomplished Mademoiselle Louisa D'Aubrey, and like to win her affections, they withheld for a while, their sacred thunders, hoping, that through fear of them, and love of her, he might yet return to the bosom of the Catholic Church, to which she belonged.

Young Marion's suit to his fair mistress, was fortunate to the full extent of an ardent lover's wishes. The charming girl repaid his passion with such liberal interest, that, in a short time after the commencement of their delicious friendship, she received him for her husband, in spite of all that wealthier wooers could promise, or frowning friends could threaten.

The neighboring clergy now marked the conduct of Marion with a keener eye; and discovering in him no symptoms that pointed to recantation, they furiously pressed the bishop to enforce against him the edict of banishment.

At this time, Marion with his lovely Louisa, were living on a small farm in the vicinity of Rochelle. As he walked one afternoon in the main street of that city, he was very rudely accosted by a couple of officers of the holy inquisition, whose looks and dress were as dark and diabolical as their employment.

"Vous etes nommes Marion?" said they; that is "your name is Marion?"

"Yes, gentlemen, that is my name."

Upon this, they rudely thrust a letter into his hand, and turned away, but with such looks as tigers throw at a tender lambkin, whose well-guarded fold forbids their access. On opening the letter he found as follows:

"Your damnable heresy, well deserves, even in this life, that purgation by fire which awfully awaits it in the next. But, in consideration of your youth and worthy connexions, our mercy has condescended to commute your punishment to perpetual exile. -- You will, therefore, instantly prepare to quit your country for ever. For, if after ten days from the date hereof, you should be found in any part of the kingdom, your miserable body shall be consumed by fire, and your impious ashes scattered on the winds of heaven.

"Pere Rochelle."*

-- * I forewarn all my friends from thinking me capable of charging this vile persecuting spirit on the "Old W---e of Rome" exclusively. No, thank God, I have not so learned human nature. And they who are yet to learn, may, by reading the "Catholic Layman", soon get satisfied, that the PRIESTS are as apt to abuse power as the PEOPLE, and that, when "clad with a little brief authority," protestants as well as papists, have committed those cruelties which make milder devils blush. [By way of a note on a note, I would observe, that the "Catholic Layman", is a very sensible and spirited pamphlet; the production, it is said, of Mathew Carey, Esq., of Philadelphia, who though a Roman Catholic, has printed more protestant Bibles and Testaments than half the preachers and printers in America put together.] (Mathew Carey was also Weems' publisher. -- A. L., 1997.) --

Had this dreadful letter been presented to Marion even while a bachelor, it would have filled him with horror; for the heart naturally cleaves to the spot where it awoke into being, and quits, with tearful eyes, the scenes among which were spent the first and happiest days of life. But ties stronger than those of nature bound Marion to his country. His country was the country of his Louisa. How could he live without her? And how could he hope that she would ever consent to leave her parents and friends to wander and die with him in hopeless exile?

But though greatly dejected, yet he did not despair. He still trusted in that parent-power who smiles even under frowns, and often pours his richest showers from the blackest clouds. Cheered with this hope, he put the letter into his pocket, and set out to seek his Louisa.

With arms fondly interlocked, she had accompanied him that morning to the gate on the back of the garden, through which he generally passed when he went to Rochelle. Soon as his horse was led up, and he about to mount, she snatched the bridle, and laughing, vowed he should not go until he had promised her one thing.

"Well, charmer, what's that?"

"Why that you will return very soon."

"Well, indeed I will; so now let me go."

"Oh no! I am afraid that when you get out of sight you will play truant. You must give me security."

"Well, Louisa, what security shall I give you?"

"Why you must give me that thing, whatever it be, that you hold most dear in all the world."

"Well done! and now, Louisa, I give you yourself, the dearest thing God ever gave me in all this world."

At this her fine face was reddened all over with blushing joy, while her love-sparkling eyes, beaming on his, awakened that transport which those who have felt it would not exchange for worlds. Then, after the fond, lengthened kiss, and tender sigh of happy lovers parting, he rode off.

Soon as he was out of her sight, she turned to go to the house. As she passed along the garden, the sudden fancy struck her to adorn the summer house with evergreens and flowers of the liveliest tints, and there, amidst a wilderness of sweets, to receive her returning lover. Animated with this fond suggestion of conjugal affection, (woman's true life,) which at every quickened pulse diffused an answering rapture through the virtuous breast, she commenced her pleasing task; and with her task she mingled the music of her voice, clear and strong as the morning lark, and sweet as from a heart full of innocence and love. The pleasant sounds reached the ear of Marion, as he drew near the garden. Then, entering the gate without noise, he walked up, unperceived, close to her as she sat all alone in the arbour, binding her fragrant flowers and singing the happy hours away. She was singing her favorite hymn, by Madam Guyon.

"That love I sing, that wondrous love, Which wak'd my sleeping clay; That spread the sky in azure bright And pour'd the golden day," &c. &c.

To see youth and beauty, though in a stranger, thus pointing to heaven, is delightful to a pious heart. Then what rapture to an enlightened soul to see a beloved wife thus communing with God, and becoming every day more and more angelic!

Soon as her song was finished, he called out, "Louisa!"

Startled at the sudden call, she turned around to the well-known voice, presenting a face on which love and sweet surprise had spread those rosy charms, which in a moment banished all his sorrows. "My dearest Gabriel," she exclaimed, dropping her flowers, and running and throwing herself into his arms, "here, take back your security! take back your security! and also my thanks for being such a man of honor. But what brought you back, love, so much earlier than you expected?"

Here the memory of that fatal letter went like a dagger to his heart, bleaching his manly cheeks.

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