A Sketch of the life of Brig. Gen. Francis Marion and a history of his brigade by William Dobein James
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of America. The French being a temperate, industrious people, some of them
bringing very little effects, yet by their endeavours and mutual assistance among themselves (which is highly commendable) have outstript our English, who brought with them larger fortunes. We lay all that night at Mons. Eugee's,*1* and the next morning set out further to go the remainder of our voyage by land. At noon we came up with several French plantations, meeting with several creeks by the way: the French were very officious in assisting with their small dories, to pass over these waters, (whom we met coming from their church) being all of them very clean and decent in their apparel -- their houses and plantations suitable in neatness and contrivance. They are all of the same opinion with the church of Geneva. Towards the afternoon we came to Mons. L'Jandro's,*2* where we got our dinner. We got that night to Mons. Galliar's,*3* who lives in a very curious contrived house, built of brick and stone, which is gotten near that place. Near here, comes in the road from Charleston and the rest of the English settlement, it being a very good way by land and not above thirty-six miles."*4* After this, our author gives a long description of his difficulty and danger in crossing the Santee in a small canoe, in time of a freshet. He then goes on as follows: -- "We intended for Mons. Galliar's jun. but were lost *************. When we got to the house we found several of the French inhabitants, who treated us very courteously; wondering about our undertaking such a voyage through a country inhabited by none but savages, and them of so different nations and tongues. After we had refreshed ourselves, we parted from a very kind, loving, affable people, who wished us a safe and prosperous voyage." Our traveller had now arrived at the extreme boundary of the white population of South Carolina, and consequently of the United States, and this was but forty miles from Charleston. In the course of one hundred and twenty years what a change, |
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