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

When it was known that General Marion, who up to the time of taking command in the Williamsburg district had been only a colonel, was to leave the staff of Gates, our people predicted a disaster similar to what it seemed had just occurred.

Therefore, when Sam Lee, liar and coward though he was naturally, gave us an account of the battle with so much of detail he could not have invented, we, unfortunately, had no choice but to believe the tale.

It was Gavin Witherspoon who first regained sufficient composure to understand what should be done, and he soon showed the Tory that, however hardly our people had been used, it would not avail him under the present circumstances.

"It seems to me necessary we keep this young cub with us, however disagreeable the association may be, and do you lads lash him on the saddle in such fashion that he will not be able to make his escape without assistance."

Although believing for the moment that we ought to return immediately to General Marion, I obeyed the old man's order, and now it was that the look of satisfaction and exultation began to vanish from the coward's face.

He had counted on our so far losing heart as to make an attempt at currying favor with him, or, at least, pass him by, and our thus guarding against the possibility of escape was by no means to his liking.

"What is to be done?" I asked when the lad was secure, for I now realized, as did Percy, that Gavin Witherspoon should be given the command of our squad.

"We shall push on as was at first intended, keeping our wits well about us, lest we be surprised by others of this fellow's kidney, who are making haste to join Barfield. After having accomplished that for which we were sent, if it be possible, there will be time enough to repeat the disagreeable story."

I am making an overly long story of what should be told in fewer words, prompted to do so because of the fear which beset me at this time and caused the matter to seem of more importance than it really was.

We pressed forward two hours or more, Percy and I riding either side of the prisoner, and Gavin Witherspoon keeping in advance.

Then we were come, as nearly as could be judged, to the vicinity of the Tory camp, and might no longer with safety use the horses.

Still acting under Gavin Witherspoon's command, we picketed our steeds in the thicket, leaving them and the prisoner to the charge of Percy, while the old man and I pressed forward to reconnoiter.

This work occupied a full hour, and the time was by no means wasted, because when it had expired we were well informed as to the number of Barfield's men.

To the best of our belief there were not less than eight hundred Tories fairly well entrenched at Dubose Ferry, and Gavin said to me as we turned to retrace our steps:

"There will be no fighting this night, unless we are driven to it, for neither General Marion nor Major James, however brave they may be, will make the attack with such odds against us, particularly while it is certain this same force of Tories will be reinforced before nightfall by those whom we drove into the swamp."

A similar thought was in my own mind, and therefore I made no reply.

It was necessary we rejoin our friends before they should have come so far as to put themselves in a dangerous position, and Gavin and I hurried back to where we had left Percy.

We had no difficulty in finding the place where we tethered the horses, and once there the cold sweat of fear broke out upon my forehead.

Percy, and prisoner, and the three horses which we had ridden, were not to be seen. But for the fact that the gray steed of Sam Lee was feeding close by, I would have said we had mistaken the location.

Words are not sufficient to describe my condition of mind when this horrible truth burst upon me. I could not so much as speak; but looked questioningly at the old man, who said slowly and in a half whisper, after gazing carefully around:

"The boy has been captured by some of Gainey's cowards who no doubt are hunting for us at this moment. Sam Lee knew for what purpose we went ahead, and as a matter of course has given his Tory friends all possible information."

"Why do we stand here idly?" I cried, regaining speech when the horrible fact had been put before me in words. "We cannot desert him, and at whatsoever cost must go in pursuit."

"It is not possible we could compass anything save our own capture," Gavin Witherspoon said, speaking slowly, and gripping hard both my hands as if to give me comfort.

"Surely you will not turn your back upon him," I cried in a fury, trying to wrench myself from his grasp; "if that cowardly thought be in your mind you shall go alone, for I had rather face all Barfield's force single-handed, than have it said I deserted my brother."

"Fair and softly, Robert Sumter, fair and softly. I am not minded to go back. It is you who shall do that."

"But I will not," and again I strove to release my hands.

"Listen to me, lad, and the sooner the better for your brother's sake, because I shall hold you here by force until having laid the case squarely before you. Would you have it told that one of the James family, on account of his own personal grief, allowed four hundred brave men to ride on to destruction? Would you have it said that rather than desert your brother you allowed the men of Williamsburg to face certain capture or death? Yet that is what must happen unless you are willing to do as I bid."

"But let me hear what is in your mind, for until then how can I answer the questions you ask!" and now I was grown more tractable, understanding that the old man knew better than I what was necessary both for the safety of Percy, and those who were riding behind us.

"There is but one horse here, and it would be unsafe to set out on foot. Having had many more years of experience than you, I should be more capable of following the Tories who have Percy in their keeping, and having come upon them, if there be a chance for his rescue, ought to be able to take better advantage of the opportunity than you. Now this is my plan: Mount the gray horse and ride back until you have met our friends; tell them what has occurred, and perchance Major James will send forward ten or twelve experienced woodsmen, who will help me in what seems little better than a forlorn hope. At all events, the gentlemen whom we both can trust implicitly will know the situation, and advise what we may do with honor. In addition to that you will be spared the pain of confessing in later days that you did what a James should never do – left your friends to ride blindly into such danger as has never before come upon men of the Carolinas."

It was not easy to follow this advice, as may well be imagined, and I spent fully five minutes trying to force myself to do it.

It seemed as if by going back when Percy had been forced to go forward, I was deserting him, and yet such seeming desertion was necessary to save, perhaps, the entire Williamsburg district.

"You will return as a brave lad should," the old man said finally, and, my heart well-nigh bursting with grief, I made reply by mounting the gray horse.

Not until then did I realize how much Gavin Witherspoon had taken upon himself.

The old man was voluntarily remaining behind on foot, surrounded by enemies, in the vain hope that he might by some fortunate accident rescue Percy, and I knew full well that the chances were as one in a thousand that it could not be done.

In other words, he was doing little less than delivering himself into the hands of the enemy and I – I was deserting him as well as my brother.

"I can't do it, Gavin," I said, making as if to dismount. "It is better you ride back."

"No, lad. Having once come to a brave decision, hold steadfast, and forget all else save that the Cause demands the sacrifice, perchance of your life, and certainly of your feelings. Push the horse at his best pace, which will be a sorry one at the most, and before many hours have passed we may grasp hands again; but I solemnly swear not to desert Percy whatever may come upon me."

I clasped the old man's hand, understanding for the first time in my life what a friend he was. Then, not daring to so much as speak, I set the spurs deep into the gray, and he bounded forward with more of life than I had expected it would be possible for him to show.

The wonder of it all to me is now, while I am writing it down after so many months have passed, that I was not captured before having traversed a mile on the backward journey, for I saw nothing, heeded nothing, thought of nothing save Percy and the brave old man who was following on his trail.

Heedless alike of friend or foe I rode as if in all the district of Williamsburg there was not an enemy, and the good God allowed me to pass through that Tory infested district in safety.

It was no more than two hours past noon when I came upon the advance guard of our brigade, and five minutes later stood before my uncle and General Marion, shaking like one in an ague fit.

Those brave soldiers needed not to be told that some disaster had befallen us. The fact, although not the story, was imprinted plainly on my face, and Major James dismounted that he might fling his arm around my shoulders, as he asked softly and tenderly:

"How far beyond here did you leave Percy and Gavin Witherspoon?"

"Within three miles of Dubose Ferry, so nearly as I can say."

"Were you come upon Barfield's force before this thing happened?"

Then it was that I found my tongue, and told him all the sad story, taking good care however, that both he and the general understood full well the strength of the enemy as we had found them.

"We will fall upon them as soon as may be," the general cried, and beckoning to Captain Mouzon he would have given some order but that I said hurriedly, forgetting my manners, as well I might, after all that had happened:

"Gavin Witherspoon declared that Major Gainey's men would join Barfield's force, and should the Williamsburg brigade advance, it would be only to their capture or death."

"Death is what every soldier must expect, and peradventure it be delayed until the end comes peacefully, then is he less fortunate, perhaps, than his fellow. We will ride on, gentlemen, and attack Barfield as soon as we can come upon him."

CHAPTER V.

THE AMBUSH

Had the men composing the brigade all been akin to me they could not have shown greater kindness, nor done more to soothe my grief, than they did during the brief time before the march toward the Tory encampment was really commenced.

One found immediately a better steed; another brought assurances from Captain Mouzon that I was not to think for a single instant of the loss of his horses, since it was only the fortunes of war, which must be expected. A third would have pressed food upon me; but I could not have swallowed a single morsel unless, perchance, life itself might have depended upon the act.

My uncle, Major James, said very little after hearing the story we had gotten from Sam Lee.

At first I attributed his silence to the apprehensions which had come upon him with the knowledge that General Gates had been overwhelmed; but later I had good reason to believe it arose solely from anxiety concerning my brother.

"You shall ride by my side, lad, until we have settled this affair, and when it is done neither you nor I will have cause to reproach ourselves for not having ventured enough."

Such a promise from such a man was sufficient to tell me that while he and I remained alive, we would struggle as men do who have no fear of death, until the dear lad was rescued, or we borne down by press of numbers.

At this day it seems singular to me that I heard no one speak of the great disaster which had come upon the colonists at Camden.

I can only explain it by the supposition that each man saw in the adventure before us an opportunity to do somewhat by way of retaliation, and set all his thoughts on that purpose.

We were halted, after my rejoining the brigade, twenty minutes or more, and then the word to advance was given; but not in such fashion as I had supposed from what General Marion said, on his learning of the disaster which had come upon Percy.

My idea was, and in my ignorance I saw no other method of procedure, that the little troop would ride into Barfield's Tories even as they had among those commanded by Major Gainey, and that we should profit by the surprise.

This could not be done, as I afterward came to realize.

The capture of Percy, and what Sam Lee could tell, would be sufficient to prevent us from coming upon them unexpectedly.

When the Tory lad should inform the commander that two of Major James' nephews were in that vicinity, it would be immediately known that our uncle, with a goodly following, was somewhere nearabout.

The Tories would be prepared, and those who had suffered defeat that morning must have, by this time, a very good idea of our strength.

General Marion, as I afterward came to know full well, was not the man to neglect any precaution, and while he counted on making an attack despite the difference in numbers, it was his intention to do so in such manner as would come nearest to guaranteeing success.

Fifty of the best mounted men were detached and sent straight toward Dubose Ferry, while the remainder of the brigade rode off at right angles, in such direction as would bring us to the timber lands eastward of the road leading to Indian Village.

It was this last portion of the force which my uncle and I accompanied, and I, surprised that a part of the brigade rode at full speed, while we loitered, as it were, asked the reason.

"Those in advance are mounted in such fashion that they may easily outrun the enemy, and it is the plan that they appear before Barfield's force as if intending to make an attack," my uncle replied. "After thus showing themselves the squad will beat a retreat, causing it to appear as if they were surprised by seeing so large a force. Then, unless the Tories are quicker witted than I give them credit for being, a goodly portion of the band will be led into ambush."

It was the Indian's favorite method of warfare, and, cruel though I had ever considered it, at this moment it gave me most intense pleasure.

I had said to myself that we could hope to do little less than die in the vain attempt to rescue Percy; but now it seemed as if, should our lives be demanded as a sacrifice, we might sell them dearly.

Well, all went as our commander had counted upon.

We hid ourselves in the thicket either side the road, three hundred and fifty horsemen, with not a man dismounted, for we counted upon riding the Tories down when they should retreat after the first volley had warned them that they had been led into a trap.

There we waited upwards of an hour, no man venturing to so much as speak, and each looking well after his steed lest one of the animals whinny at the supreme moment, thus giving the enemy a clew, before they were fairly within our grasp, of what awaited them.

During that hour I resolutely kept my thoughts on trifles, such as caring for the animal I bestrode, making certain I was in such position that it would be possible to get out of the wood with the least possible delay when the enemy was thrown into confusion, and by these and other means prevented myself from dwelling upon Percy's fate.

Then came that sound for which we had waited – the thunder of horses' feet upon the beaten road.

We heard cries of fear, which were uttered by our decoys to entice the Tories into yet hotter pursuit, and far in the distance could be distinguished the crack of rifles and the rattle of muskets.

At that time, with the blood literally boiling in my veins and my heart beating like the blows of a hammer, I never stopped to question how many of ours might be killed in this attempt to deal out punishment to the enemies of the colonies; but realized only that now was come the moment when I could strike a blow in defense of my brother.

Nearer and nearer came the horsemen, until through the trees we saw the Williamsburg men riding madly down, not a saddle emptied, and before one could count twenty the advance of the Tories came in sight.

A whispered word went around among us to "hold ready," although every man was on the alert, and when the road in front of us appeared to be one dense mass of horses, and men wearing red uniforms, my uncle gave the signal for which we waited:

"Fire, boys, and at them!"

From each side the road rang out reports of rifles which had been leveled in deadly aim, for at such short range each could pick his man and make certain of bringing him down.

Instantly the ranks were broken; the redcoated horsemen reined in their steeds as the squad they had been pursuing halted and fired their volley, and then came a scramble and retreat when we dashed among them.

Twice I loaded and discharged my rifle, and then it seemed to me as if such work was all too slow.

Using the weapon as a club, I rode by my uncle's side into the very midst of that scrambling, terrified mass of human beings, and cried aloud with savage joy when I struck one of the frightened villains down.

As was afterward learned, there were no less than one thousand men who had set out in pursuit of our decoys, and yet after our first attack not one of them remained to hold us in check.

Had they been only so many sheep, we could not have found them easier prey.

The major, my uncle, had said I should ride by his side, and so I did, down the road at the heels of the Tory scoundrels, ever as we had done the night previous. Then on, and on, striking down a foe here and there until we were come, nearly the whole brigade, into that encampment which Gavin Witherspoon and I had looked upon, believing it could not be taken by such a force as ours.

Out of all those scoundrels who had so lately held the place, believing that those true to the Cause had been virtually crushed by the defeat of General Gates, only two men came forth to meet us, and those two, my brother and Gavin Witherspoon.

Is there any need I should say how warm was the greeting between us two lads when I threw myself from the horse and clasped to my heart the dear boy whom I had thought never to see again in this life?

It needed no more than an hundred words for him to tell his story.

While he remained in the thicket guarding Sam Lee a body of men, who had lately served under Major Gainey, came upon them by chance, and, as a matter of course, he was at once taken prisoner, Sam Lee immediately telling the story of his own capture.

Then it was the Tory Sam who became the jailer, and Percy the prisoner.

My brother was conducted to Barfield's camp, and there kept under guard of Sam, who did all that lay in his power, save by way of personal violence, to pay off old scores.

Gavin Witherspoon, wily as an Indian, had crept up to the very edge of the encampment, and was lying there in the vain hope that some opportunity would come for the rescue, when our force, sent as a decoy, appeared.

An hundred or more men were left to guard the encampment, and Gavin hoped the moment had come when he might be of service to the lad.

Believing that the Tories would be victorious in the chase, because of superior numbers, he ventured too near Percy, and was himself captured.

An hour later the first of the terrified fugitives burst into the encampment, riding straight through it in their wild terror, thus causing a panic among the guard who might even then, because of their intrenched position, have held us in check.

In a twinkling Percy and Gavin were free; but in imminent danger of being ridden down by the panic-stricken.

Crouching behind trees, or at the stronger portions of the intrenchments, they awaited our coming, and when we rode into camp came forth to greet us as I have said.

Our force remained in the captured quarters until next morning, and during the evening Gavin Witherspoon, Percy and myself had much to talk about.

My brother and I were come by this time to look upon the old man as a comrade, and well we might, after the friend he had proven himself to be.

While we talked only concerning ourselves, and looked after our own welfare, General Marion and the officers of the command spent the time discussing how it might be possible for so small a force to uphold the cause in the Carolinas, for since the defeat of Gates ours was the only body of men in the colony to oppose the foe.

It was as if the king's troops had indeed crushed what they were pleased to term "rebellion," and more than one man in the brigade whose fidelity to the Cause could not be questioned, asked his comrade if it were wise to longer remain in arms when we were virtually whipped.

The outlook was gloomy indeed for those who had hoped to be freed from the burdens the king had put upon them; but, fortunately for the Cause, General Marion and Major James were not the men to give in beaten so long as life remained.

Even while some among us were making ready to say openly that the time had come when we must submit, those two gallant gentlemen were planning for the future – planning as to how four hundred or less might best oppose ten times their number of trained soldiers.

Gavin Witherspoon, Percy and myself, while listening to the faint-hearted ones or discussing the situation between ourselves, hoped that the general would call upon us for some especial mission, even as he had when we were sent to spy out Barfield's camp; but the time was not come when we were needed for a venture of any moment, as we learned an hour before daybreak next morning.

Then the men were aroused with orders to breakfast from the Tories' provisions as hurriedly as might be, and make ready for the forced march.

Among those with whom I talked, when in the gray light we made our preparations for the march, not a man believed there was the slightest question we should continue upon the offensive.

All understood that we could not in safety remain much longer in the Tory camp, for unless those whom we had routed were greater cowards than was generally believed, they would soon recover from the panic into which we had driven them, and return to make an attack.

Therefore it was that we set out believing the move was made simply for the purpose of changing quarters, and when orders were given that each man take from the Tory stores so much of provisions for himself, or provender for his horse as could be carried conveniently behind him, we fancied it was the general's purpose to so outfit the brigade that it might lay in hiding two or three days without being forced to venture forth in search of food.

Before noon came, however, all understood that some maneuver was in progress.

Instead of riding rapidly, as would have been the case had we counted on simply exchanging one encampment for another, we went forward at a leisurely pace, making no halt until the sun was high in the heavens, when we were come to the ford on Black River, half a dozen miles or more south of Kingstree.

Then the men and horses were allowed a rest of an hour, after which we bore nearly due west until we struck the road leading from Georgetown to Nelson's Ferry, and the word was whispered from man to man that the commander had it in mind to strike yet another blow at the red-coated enemy before we laid down our arms.

It is well known, as a matter of course, that the "war-path" from Charleston to Camden crosses Santee River at Nelson's Ferry, and here, above all other places, would one who was eager for fighting be likely to get his fill.

More than once during the day had we learned from planters, who were true to the Cause, additional particulars concerning the blunder of General Gates, and before nightfall we understood beyond a peradventure that the story told by Sam Lee was only untrue in so far as it did not contain all the disasters which had befallen the American arms.

Now we knew how many prisoners had been taken, and, what was more to the purpose, learned that our unfortunate countrymen were being sent as rapidly as possible from the scene of the one-sided conflict to Charleston.

It was an hour before sunset, and we were holding the same pace at which we started, with no evidence of going into camp, when Gavin Witherspoon said bitterly, as if the thought had just seized him: