that morning, they had decked themselves in their richest habits,
and at the first sound of our drums, flew to their doors, windows,

and balconies, to welcome our return.
Never before had they appeared half so charming. Sweet are

the flowers of the field at every season of the year, but doubly sweet,
when, after long icy winter, they spread all their blossoms

to the spring-tide sun. Even so the daughters of Charleston,
though always fair, yet never seemed so passing fair as now,

when after sustaining the long wintry storms of British oppression,
they came forth in all their patriot charms to greet

the welcome beams of returning liberty. And never shall I forget
the accents of those lovely lips, which, from behind

their waving handkerchiefs, that but half concealed their angel blushes,
exclaiming, "God bless you, gentlemen! God bless you! welcome!

welcome to your homes again!"
Chapter 30.

Marion returns to his plantation -- is appointed a member of the legislature
-- some valuableanecdotes of him -- his marriage -- and retirement.

After the retreat of the British from Carolina, Marion sheathed his sword
for lack of argument, and went up to cultivate his little plantation

in St. John's parish, where he was born. But the gratitude of his countrymen
did not long allow him to enjoy the sweets of that rural life,

of which he was uncommonly fond. At the next election,
he was in some sort compelled to stand as a candidate for the legislature,

to which, by an unanimous voice, he was sent, to aid with his counsel,
the operations of that government, to whose freedom his sword

had so largely contributed. The friends of humanity were all highly pleased
with his call to the legislature. From his well known generosity

to his enemies, during the war, they fondly hoped he would do
every thing in his power to extinguish that horrid flame of revenge,

which still glowed in the bosoms of many against the tories.
Nor did Marion disappoint their hopes. His face was always, and undauntedly,

set against every proposition that savored of severity to the tories,
whom he used to call his "poor deluded countrymen". The reader may form

some idea of general Marion from the following anecdote,
which was related to me by the honorable Benjamin Huger, Esq.

During the furious contests in South Carolina, between the British
and Americans, it was very common for men of property to play

`jack of both sides', for the sake of saving their negroes and cattle. --
Among these, a pretty numerous crew, was a wealthy old blade,

who had the advantage of one of those very accommodating faces,
that could shine with equal lustre on his victorious visitants,

whether Britons or buckskins. Marion soon found him out;
and as soon gave him a broad hint how heartily he despised such `trimming';

for at a great public meeting where the old gentleman, with a smirking face,
came up and presented his hand, Marion turned from him without deigning

to receive it. Everybody was surprised at this conduct of the general,
and some spoke of it in terms of high displeasure. However,

it was not long before they caught the old weathercock at one of his tricks,
and, soon as the confiscation act was passed, had him down

on the black list, fondly hoping, no doubt, to divide a large spoil.
Marion, who was then a member of the legislature, arose to speak.

The aged culprit, who also was present, turned pale and trembled
at the sight of Marion, giving up all for lost. -- But how great,

how agreeable was his surprise, when instead of hearing the general
thundering against him for judgment, he heard him imploring for mercy!

His accusers were, if possible, still more astonished. Having counted
on general Marion as his firmest foe, they were utterly mortified

to find him his fastest friend, and, venting their passion with great freedom,
taxed him with inconsistency and fickleness that but illy suited

with general Marion's character.
"It is scarcely eighteen months, sir," said they, "since you treated

this old rascal with the most pointed and public contempt,
on account of the very crime for which we wish to punish him.

And here, now, instead of taking part against him, you have declared
in his favor, and have become his warmest advocate with a legislature."

"True, gentlemen," replied Marion, "but you should remember
that it was war then; and therefore my duty to make a difference

between the real and pretended friends of my country.
But it is peace now, and we ought to remember the virtues of men,

particularly of the old and timid, rather than their follies.
And we ought to remember too, that God has given us the victory,

for which we owe him eternalgratitude. But cruelty to man
is not the way to show our gratitude to heaven."

Of the same complexion was his behavior in a large party
at governor Matthew's table, just after the passage of the famous act

to confiscate the estates of the tories. "Come, general, give us a toast,"
said the governor. The glasses were all filled, and the eyes of the company

fixed upon the general, who, waving his bumper in the air,
thus nobly called out -- "Well, gentlemen, here's damnation

to the confiscation act."
The following anecdote of Marion I have heard from a thousand lips,

and every time with that joy on the countenance, which evinced
the deep interest which the heart takes in talking of things

that are honorable to our countrymen.
While Marion was a member of the legislature, a petition was presented

to the house for an act of amnesty of all those arbitrary measures
which the American officers had been obliged to adopt during the war,

in order to get horses, provisions, &c. for the army. The petition was signed
by the names of all the favorite officers of the state, and among the rest,

by that of our hero. Some of his friends, it seemed, had done it for him,
on the supposition that he needed such an act as well as the rest.

But Marion, who had listened very attentively to the reading of the petition,
on hearing his name mentioned as one of the subscribers, instantly arose,

and insisted that his name should be struck off from that paper.
He said "he had no manner of objection to the petition; on the contrary,

he most heartily approved of it, and meant to vote for it;
for well did he know, he said, that during the war, we had among us

a world of ignoramuses, who, for lack of knowing their danger,
did not care a fig how the war went, but were sauntering about in the woods,

popping at the squirrels, when they ought to have been in the field
fighting the British; that such gentlemen, since they did not choose

to do any thing for their country themselves, might well afford
to let their cattle do something; and as they had not shed any of their blood

for the public service, they might certainly spare a little corn to it;
at any rate he had no notion, he said, of turning over

to the mercy of these poltroons, some of the choicest spirits of the nation,
to be prosecuted and torn to pieces by them; but that, nevertheless,

he did not like to have his name to the petition, for, thank God,
he had no favors to ask of them. And if, during the war for his country,

he had done any of them harm, there was he, and yonder his property,
and let them come forward, if they dare, and demand satisfaction."

And I never heard of any man who ever accused him of the least injury
done him during all the war.

Marion continued a member of the legislature, until orders were issued
to repair and put in commission Fort Johnson, to the command of which

he was appointed, with the pay of about twenty-two hundred dollars per annum.
Though this salary had been voted him chiefly because of his losses during

the war, yet it was not continued to him longer than two or three years,
when it was reduced to less than five hundred dollars annually.

Numbers of people had their feelings greatly hurt on this occasion,
and, I dare say, much worse than his own. For he was a man

who cared very little for money; and besides, about that time
he entered into matrimony with that excellent and wealthy lady,

Miss Mary Videau, who, with her affections, bestowed on him
a fortune sufficient to satisfy his utmost wishes, even though they had been

far less moderate than they were. Seeing now no particular obligation on him
to continue longer in the public service, he gladly yielded

to his sense of what he owed to a generous and beloved companion,
and with her, retired to his native parish of St. John's,