Marion forgotten, and by me! No, never! While memory looks back on the dreadful days of the revolution: when a a British despot, not the nation... but a proud, stupid, obstinate, despot, trampling the Holy Charter and constitution of England's realm, issued against us, Sons of Britons, that most unrighteous edict, taxation without representation! And then, because in the spirit of our gallant fathers, we bravely opposed him, he broke up the very foundations of his malice, and let loose upon us every indescribable, unimaginable curse of civil war; when British armies, with their Hessian, and Indian, and Tory allies, overran my afflicted country, swallowing up its fruits and filling every part with consternation; when no one thing was to be seen but flying crowds, burning houses, and young men hanging upon the trees like dogs, and old men wringing their withered hands over their murdered boys, and women and children weeping and flying from their ruined plantations into the starving woods! When I think, I say, of these things, oh my God! How can I ever forget Marion, that vigilant, undaunted soldier, whom thy own mercy raised up to scourge such monsters, and avenge his country's wrongs.
-Peter Horry, 1824
Friend and fellow soldier
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