With the Swamp Fox: A Story of General Marion's Young Spies

The horsemen surrounded us; our weapons were of little service against the sabers of the enemy, and we understood it, although there was no thought of surrender in my mind until Gavin Witherspoon seized me by the arm, shouting in my ear:

"Surrender, lad, surrender! There is neither honor nor glory in dying when our lives are of no avail for the Cause!"

Even as he spoke three of the redcoats had clutched Gabriel and Percy.

I allowed my musket, which had been raised as a club, to drop, and immediately I felt, for the first time, the grasp of a Britisher.

We were prisoners. The glory of fighting to the bitter end with the knowledge that in so doing we were opening the way for those in the rear, was denied us, and but for the shame of it I could have wept like a girl.

And yet all this was as nothing compared with what followed.

The troopers were about to disarm us, and some one had fired a torch that we might be the better seen, when Sam Lee – that miserable Tory and renegade – came up from the rear, where most likely he had been skulking during the fighting, and, seeing us, set up a shout of triumph.

"Now have I got you rebels where I've been burning to see you?" he cried.

"Now we shall see – "

"Is that Sam Lee?" Gabriel shouted, struggling to release himself from his captor's grasp.

"Ay, and it is the cur who has sold his country, his kinsmen and himself for the king's gold!" Percy replied. "There is no dishonor in being overpowered by true soldiers in a fair fight; but to have such as that villain alive before one's eyes is a disgrace."

"It shall be worse than that to you!" Sam shrieked, "and as for that nephew of the rebel Marion, I – "

"What are you saying?" one of the troopers asked, seizing Sam Lee and shaking him as if to force the reply more quickly. "Is one of these a nephew to the Swamp Fox?"

"Ay, that he is!" Gabriel made answer, stepping forward as far as the hand of the captor would permit. "I am the nephew of General Marion, and proud indeed of the kinship!"

I was looking at the dear lad that instant, having turned my eyes from the scurvy Tory when Gabriel began to speak, otherwise, perhaps, I might have prevented that terrible thing which followed.

While the remainder of the party were looking at the brave lad who stood before them in the glare of the torches, Sam Lee, doubled-dyed villain that he was, rushed upon him with a saber which he had seized from the hand of the trooper.

In the flickering light I saw the gleam of the steel, and before a word of warning could escape my lips, the cruel weapon descended, striking Gabriel full upon the head, sheering its way downward until the dear lad sank a lifeless mass at the feet of that cur who was not worthy to so much as kneel before him.

On the instant it was as if my eyes were blinded by the crimson flood that followed the stroke of the blade. There was a sensation as if all my blood was boiling, and, for the time being, reason left me.

Gavin Witherspoon declares that I wrenched myself free from the trooper who held me, as if the Britisher had been no more than a babe, that at the same instant I leaped upon the Tory murderer, bearing him to the earth till his face was sunk deep in the blood-stained moss, and with the same weapon which had let out the life of the most gallant lad who ever lived, I killed him.

It was done so quickly, Gavin declares, that the redcoats had no time to interfere before the work was accomplished, and while they, horror-stricken as it were by that which was not warfare in any sense of the word, stood before us three – two dead and one senseless, the remainder of our squad fell upon them.

This last attack was successful; the Britishers were beaten off, and our brave fellows carried Gabriel's dear body, and myself, back to the rear.

The attempt to capture Georgetown was a failure, now that the enemy had been warned, and our brigade beat a hasty retreat.

Of all that I know nothing; it was many days before my senses returned, and then we were encamped on Snow's Island.

It is best that I add to my story what has been written by one who is a master hand at wielding a pen, while I am only a novice, and that I bring this portion of the adventures which befell Percy Sumter and myself to an end, with the promise to write out at some later day what we two did when the work of the patriots was finally crowned with success.

"The murder of Gabriel Marion, with some other instances of brutality and butchery on the part of the Tories, happening about this time, gave a more savage character than ever to the warfare which ensued. Motives of private anger and personal revenge embittered and increased the usual ferocities of civil war; and hundreds of dreadful and desperate tragedies caused the inhabitants to pursue each other rather like wild beasts than like men.

"In the Cheraw district, on the Pedee, above the line where Marion commanded, the warfare was one of utter extermination. The revolutionary struggle in Carolina was of a sort unknown in any other part of the Union.

"The attempt upon Georgetown was defeated. The British had taken the alarm, and were now in strength, and in a state of vigilance and activity which precluded the possibility of surprise. Marion's wishes, therefore, with regard to this place, were deferred accordingly to a more auspicious season.

"He retired to Snow's Island, where he made his camp. It was peculiarly eligible for his purposes, furnishing a secure retreat, a depot for his arms, ammunition, prisoners and invalids – difficult of access, easily guarded, and contiguous to the scenes of his most active operations.

"Snow's Island lies at the confluence of Lynch's Creek and the Pedee. On the east flows the latter river; on the west, Clark's Creek, issuing from Lynch's and a stream navigable for small vessels; on the north lies Lynch's Creek, wide and deep, but nearly choked by rafts of logs and refuse timber. The island, high river swamp, was spacious, and, like all the Pedee river swamp of that day, abounded in live stock and provision. Thick woods covered the elevated tracts, dense cane-brakes the lower, and here and there the eye rested upon a cultivated spot, in maize, which the invalids and convalescents were wont to tend.

"Here Marion made his fortress. Having secured all the boats of the neighborhood, he chose such as he needed, and destroyed the rest. Where the natural defenses of the island seemed to require aid from art, he bestowed it; and, by cutting away bridges and obstructing the ordinary pathways with timber, he contrived to insulate, as much as possible, the country under his command.

"From this fortress his scouting parties were sent forth nightly in all directions. Enemies were always easy to be found. The British maintained minor posts at Nelson's Ferry and Scott's Lake, as well as Georgetown; and the Tories on Lynch's Creek and Little Pedee were much more numerous, if less skilfully conducted, than the men of Marion.

"Marion's encampment implied no repose, no forbearance of the active business of war. Very far from it. He was never more dangerous to an enemy than when he seemed quiet in camp.

"His camp, indeed, was frequently a lure, by which to tempt the Tories into unseasonable exposure. The post at Snow's Island gave him particular facilities for this species of warfare. He had but to cross a river, and a three hours' march enabled him to forage in an enemy's country.

"Reinforcements came to him daily, and it was only now, for the first time, that his command began to assume the appearance, and exhibit the force of a brigade."

THE END