Outfoxing the British: Francis "Swamp Fox" Marion used ingenuity and unorthodox tactics to play a significant role in the War for Independence. (History--Struggle for Freedom).

General Francis Marion's heart must have sunk as he halted his men at the edge of the pine barrens around Fort Watson, South Carolina, on April 16, 1781. Situated on a 30- to 40-foot-high ancient Santee Indian mound, the fort was surrounded by a wide expanse of cleared ground. Halfway up the hill lay three rows of abatis, an obstacle composed of felled trees stripped of their leaves and smaller branches with remaining branches sharpened into points.

Attacking such a fortress seemed impossible with his small brigade, which included a contingent of Colonel Henry "Light Horse Harry" Lee's infantry. He and Lee had about 80 men altogether, while the British had 120. Conventional military wisdom recommends that the attacking force have twice as many troops as the defense -- and there he was, planning to attack a highly fortified position with an inferior force. Yet the man known as the "Swamp Fox" was determined, as always, to beat the odds. Fort Watson, he well understood, enabled the British to control movement on the Santee River as well as traffic on the main road between Camden and Charleston. Its capture would severely weaken the British chokehold on South Carolina.

Creatively Taking the High Ground

Spotting Marion's forces, British Lieutenant James McKay ordered his men to fire upon the Americans. Although the bullets fell harmlessly short, they served notice that the British weren't about to give up the fort without a fight.

After a brief but unsuccessful exchange of musket volleys, Marion turned his attention to what appeared to be the fort's most vulnerable point -- its water supply. Ordering several sharpshooters with long rifles to mount the bluff overlooking Scott's Lake, he soon fully controlled the water source. But McKay, determined to hold his own, set his men to digging a well. On April 18th, they struck water, nullifying their need for an outside water source.

Not only had the Americans now wasted three days, but Marion's already meager force was dwindling. These were men who thrived on hit-and-run, exciting sorties. Bored by the inactivity of simply watching the exterior fort walls, members of his militia started dispersing to their nearby farms. A few more days of this, and he wouldn't have any troops. And, to make matters worse, smallpox struck his camp, debilitating or scaring off even more of his men. Although he had sent a request to General Nathanael Greene, asking for a small cannon, he had received neither a reply nor a field piece.

For another five days, Marion's and McKay's men continued to exchange occasional, mostly futile, musket fire. American morale continued to plummet. As Lee wrote in his 1812 reminiscences, "destitute of both artillery and intrenching tools, Marion and [I] despaired of success."

But on April 20th, all that changed. Lt. Col. Hezekiah Maham, one of Marion's s partisans, hatched a scheme. He suggested they build a wooden tower overlooking the fort, enabling the Americans to shoot directly down into the enclosure. Marion enthusiastically adopted the idea, and his men, glad to be doing something constructive at last, zealously threw themselves into the work. Marion deployed several details to scour the surrounding countryside for axes, then formed cutting parties to fell the plentiful tall, straight, pine saplings.

The ring of axes continued nonstop, while other groups of soldiers hurriedly limbed the fallen timbers, and still others ported the logs on their shoulders to landings just outside the fort's musket range. One can only marvel at men who could, without even a draft horse or ox, cut and haul several hundred logs. Then, since the tower had to be constructed within gunshot range of the fort, these same men, without rest, constructed the entire tower overnight in the pitch dark. At daybreak on April 23rd, McKay beheld a rude but functional tower, with a protective rampart at the top, overlooking his previously safe refuge.

The intrepid McKay responded by deepening his interior trenches and erecting a protective wall on the side of the palisade facing the tower. But his troops were not pleased with the situation. The Americans were shooting down into the fort with very accurate long rifles, picking off the British like chickens. Many of McKay's men laid down their arms and refused to defend the fort. It wasn't long until McKay raised the white flag.

The triumph at Fort Watson represented a critical milestone for the American cause because it was the first time since the British had invaded South Carolina that American troops had captured a British stronghold. And it was a typical Swamp Fox victory -- outnumbered and short on firepower, but never short on determination and ingenuity.

Genius in the Heat of Battle

Less than a month later, Marion employed a different but equally brilliant stratagem to capture a second British supply post, Fort Motte.

Situated several miles northwest of Fort Watson on the Congaree River, Fort Motte served as the main British depot for supply convoys coming up from Charleston and contained a good store of ammunition, food, and clothing -- all badly needed by Marion's troops.

By May 5th, Marion, with 150 militia, and Lee, with 300 regulars, were camped on the outskirts of the Mount Joseph Plantation. Here, the British had commandeered and fortified the plantation mansion, removing the rightful owner, Mrs. Motte, and her family to an old cabin some distance from the mansion. Although the British commander, Lt. Donald MacPherson, had only 140 men, the mansion fort was well situated -- on a hill, with strong fortifications and a deep well. In addition to an abatis, earthworks and a deep fosse (moat) protected the fort.

The cannon so desperately needed at Fort Watson had finally arrived. But one mere six-pounder was unequal to the task of subduing Fort Motte. MacPherson's men derisively shouted as the small cannonballs bounced off the sturdy palisade.

Marion suggested to Lee that he use his men to dig trenches from which to storm the fort. Starting about 400 yards from the enemy's earthworks, the men worked in four-hour shifts, moving fiercely toward their goal. Like the logging project at Fort Watson, the sheer amount of effort involved in digging this trench is staggering. Figuring the trench at five feet deep and a minimum of 2 feet wide represents 1,333 cubic yards of dirt. That's about 150 dump trucks' worth -- all moved by hand under enemy fire.

On May 11th, with the trench almost complete, Marion and Lee received an unwelcome surprise. MacPherson's men roared triumphantly that evening upon learning that British commander Lord Rawdon had arrived and was camped just across the Congaree River where they could see his campfires twinkling in the hills.

Although the river was too swollen to cross immediately, Marion knew that it was a matter of 48 hours or less before Rawdon would reach Fort Motte. He either needed to take the fort immediately or retreat while he still could. Desperate measures were needed. Therefore, he regretfully sent Lee to Mrs. Motte, asking her permission to bum the mansion. Always a staunch patriot, Mrs. Motte gave her ready consent: "If it were a palace' she reportedly replied, "it should go." She even went so far as to aid the task by contributing a fine bow and a quiver of arrows -- a gift she had received from a ship captain several years earlier.

At noon on May 12th, when the roof was hot and dry, a marksman from Lee's troops aimed the first flaming arrow at the mansion's cedar shingles. Nathan Savage, from Marion's militia, also joined the act, using a sling to send a flaming ball of tar and sulphur sailing onto the already burning roof. Some of MacPherson's men tried to climb up and put out the fire -- but here at last was something the six-pound cannon could do. A continual rain of grapeshot prevented MacPherson's forces from containing the fire. Because the British arsenal resided within the mansion and would soon explode, MacPherson hurriedly raised a white flag.

Immediately, Marion and Lee sent men up to put out the fire with a bucket brigade, saving most of the mansion from destruction. Mrs. Motte, ever the gracious Southern hostess, then served an elegant dinner to American and British officers alike, under an arbor in front of the old cabin.

Fort Watson and Fort Motte marked the beginning of the end for the British in South Carolina. Although it would take another year and a half before the last Union Jack sailed over the horizon from Charleston Bay, the seeds of victory were sown by Marion and his stalwart partisan troops.

Beating the Odds

The circumstances were very different during the late 1770s, when patriot progress in the South had slowed to a crawl. After the British captured the strategic port of Charleston in May of 1780, they thought the South firmly under their thumb. Francis Marion seemed an unlikely catalyst for changing the situation. Physically unimpressive, it is said that when Marion was born in 1732, he was small enough to fit into a quart mug and wasn't expected to live very long.

But even as a youngster, Marion made a habit of beating the odds. Not only did he survive, he grew up into a small but energetic -- and brave -- young soldier. At 16, he survived a week-long sojourn in a tiny boat in the West Indies after his ship sank. In 1761, Marion served with distinction in the bloody Cherokee War.

In between his brief seafaring career and the beginning of his military career, Marion helped his family run their South Carolina plantation, Pond Bluff, and spent his spare time roaming the woods and swamps surrounding the farm. He became very familiar with the local terrain and well steeped in the art of guerrilla warfare, learned while fighting the Cherokee. Marion's hit-and-run tactics befuddled traditional British commanders, who expected the enemy to engage them on an open field.

When Marion reported to General Horatio Gates in 1780, Gates could not appreciate Marion's military worth, judging him only by the fact that he had no more than 20 followers who were "distinguished by ... the wretchedness of their attire." Gates immediately dispatched Marion into the South Carolina interior, to "watch the motions of the enemy and furnish intelligence."

Which was just as well, because soon after, at Camden, British General Charles Cornwallis badly beat Gates, who retreated to North Carolina, leaving South Carolina at the mercy of the British. For the next year, Marion and his brigade of militia made forays from their hideout in the South Carolina swamps. A master of surprise attack, Marion kept the British, especially Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton, on their toes. It was Tarleton who, frustrated with a quarry that seemed to disappear without a trace into the trackless maze of creeks and bogs, nicknamed Marion "Swamp Fox."

If Marion's men appeared "wretched" to General Gates, they would have looked even worse if he had ever seen them in action. Marion's hideaway at Snow Island boasted no buildings -- only a few temporary lean-tos. Not all of the brigade had real swords; many carried "sabers" fashioned out of old saws. Many bullets fired by Marion's muskets and rifles had been cast from melted pewter mugs and dishes.

But if they were short on basic necessities, they were well supplied with cunning and determination. Marion's brigade successfully captured or destroyed many British supply trains and often managed to free American prisoners of war. Marion's action also kept the Tory forces in disarray and kept the spark of hope alive in the souls of those who wished to throw off the British yoke.

When General Nathanael Greene came south to relieve Gates in early December 1780, Greene could see beyond the shabby clothes into the stout, patriotic hearts of Marion and his men. "I have not the honor of your acquaintance," he wrote to Marion, "but I am no stranger to your character and merit."

At the end of December, Governor Rutledge of South Carolina promoted Marion to brigadier general, based on his reputation for bravery, strategy, and military discipline. In early 1781, Greene assigned Col. Henry "Light Horse Harry" Lee to assist Marion in severing the British supply and communication lines emanating from Charleston. This partnership was one of the few instances of a happy (mostly) and effective collaboration between the Continental "regulars" and the more loosely structured state militias.

After the war ended in 1782, Marion returned to his beloved Pond Bluff, but found the plantation in ruins -- cattle gone, buildings burned, fields overgrown. Although he longed to settle down to a quiet life, duty still called. Marion served in the South Carolina Senate from the end of the war until 1790. In that same year, he helped draft South Carolina's constitution. Farming and civil service didn't keep Marion from finding, finally, the love of his life; he married Mary Esther Videau in 1786, but they had no children. Marion bid his final farewell to Mary Esther, and to the state he had fought so hard to protect, on February 27, 1795.

RELATED ARTICLE: Swamp Fox on the Silver Screen

Jodie Gilmore

Benjamin Martin, played by Mel Gibson in the film The Patriot, is largely based on Francis Marion. In fact, early drafts of the script had Marion as the protagonist. But controversy arose over some aspects of Marion's character, such as his ownership of slaves. Also, the script writers felt hemmed in by sticking to Marion's history; they wanted more freedom with the story and drama. For example, Marion, unlike Martin, was childless, and didn't even marry until eight years after the War for Independence. Martin's character also takes some color from Andrew Pickens and Thomas Sumter, two other partisan commanders active in the South Carolina area.

The controversy over Marion's character, although popular with the media, has little basis in fact. Marion has been accused of beating and raping slaves, of mistreating prisoners of war, and of being racist. Note, however, that accepted authorities on Marion's life and role in the War for Independence, such as Robert Bass (Swamp Fox: The Life and Campaigns of General Francis Marion) and William James (A Sketch of the Life of Brig. General Francis Marion) make no note of such reprehensible behavior. James was a member of Marion's militia and was obviously personally familiar with Marion's actions.

In fact, on many occasions, Marion paroled captured Tories, asking them only to swear that they fight no more. At the end of the Fort Motte battle, he flew into a rage when he found some of Lee's Continentals hanging Tories -- Marion despised such cruelty. His loyal partisan troops officially had to serve only 30 days but often served for months at a time. And they consisted of both white and black soldiers.

While modern screenwriters don't seem to give Marion much credit, The Patriot is not the first time that Marion appeared on the silver screen. From 1959 to 1961, Walt Disney aired eight separate episodes devoted to the Swamp Fox, played by a very young Leslie Nielsen. Disney's portrayal wasn't totally historically accurate. But each episode was filled with action and intrigue.

Certainly, the Marion portrayed in Disney's episodes was closer to the real man than the Marion "rejected" by The Patriot's scriptwriters -- a man, who, according to the epitaph on his tombstone, "lived without fear and died without reproach."

Jodie Gilmore, a homeschooling mother of two, is a freelance writer.