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

      "Thank God I can lay my hand on my heart and say that, since I came to man's estate, I have never intentionally done wrong to any."

      (General Francis Marion's last words, spoken February 27th, 1795.)

      CHAPTER I.

      MY UNCLE, THE MAJOR

      He who sets himself down to write of his own deeds in order that future generations may know exactly what part he bore in freeing the colonies from the burdens put upon them by a wicked king, must have some other excuse, or reason, than that of self-glorification.

      Some such idea as set down above has been in my mind from the moment Percy Sumter – meaning my brother – urged that I make a record of what we did while serving under General Francis Marion, that ardent patriot and true soldier, who was willing to make of himself a cripple rather than indulge in strong drink.

      I question if there be in the Carolinas any one who does not know full well the story of that night in Charleston, when, the door being locked upon him in order that he might be forced to drink, General Marion – then only a colonel – leaped from the window, thereby dislocating his ankle, rather than indulge in a carousal which to him was unseemly and ungentlemanly.

      This is but a lame beginning to what it is intended I shall tell regarding those days when we two lads, Percy and myself, did, as it has pleased many to say, the work of men in the struggle against foreign rule; yet however crude it may appear to those better versed in the use of the pen, it is the best I can do. My brother and myself went into General Marion's camp before our fourteenth birthday, and since that time have studied the art of warfare instead of letters, which fact is due to the troublous times rather than our own inclination, for my desire ever was to improve my mind until I should be at least on equal terms with those lads who were more favored as to country.

      First let me set down that of which we two – meaning Percy and myself – can honestly claim without fear of being called boastful.

      Our mother was sister to those noble gentlemen, John, William, Gavin, James and Robert James, who one and all devoted their fortunes and their lives to the cause of the independence of the Carolinas. She married a Sumter, who died while yet we twins were in the cradle, and, therefore, we were come to look upon ourselves as true members of the James family, rather than Sumters, priding ourselves upon that which every true Carolinian is ready to declare, that "he who rightfully bears the name of James is always ready for the foe, the first in attack and the last in retreat."

      I am coming to the beginning of my story in a halting, and what may seem a boastful, fashion, yet to my mind there is no other way of telling plainly what Percy and I were so fortunate as to accomplish under General Marion, than that of explaining why it was we two lads, less than fourteen years of age, should have been given such opportunities.

      Now I will write particularly of my uncle, the major, in order that it may be further understood how we lads came to be known as scouts in the service of the "Swamp Fox," and while so doing much which is already well-known must be repeated.

      When the city of Charleston was captured by the British, thousands of Carolinians who were true to the cause of independence voluntarily made of themselves exiles, despairing of being able to wrest their native colonies from the hands of the king, and willing to assist those in the north whose possibilities seemed bright.

      To the men who were left at home, the proclamation of Sir Henry Clinton, offering pardon to the inhabitants and a reinstatement of all their rights, seemed most honest.

      When, however, Sir Henry's second decree was issued early in August, in the year 1780, declaring that we who accepted "pardon" must take up arms against those of the northern colonies who were yet holding their own against oppression, the condition of affairs seemed suddenly to have changed, and the gentlemen of the Carolinas asked themselves how these two proclamations could bear relationship.

      Such question could only be answered by those high in authority under the king, and that the matter might be made plain, the people of Williamsburg, in the colony of South Carolina, chose my uncle, Major John James, to represent them in asking for an explanation.

      The nearest post was at Georgetown, and the commandant one Captain Ardesoif.

      To this officer my uncle presented himself with the question as to what might be meant by the demand that the people of South Carolina "submit themselves to the king," and if, after having done so to the satisfaction of his majesty, they would be allowed to remain at their homes.

      The British captain was one who looked upon the colonists generally as slaves who should be whipped into subjection, rather than men who were able and willing to defend their lives, and taking such view of the Carolinians, he made answer much in this fashion:

      "His majesty offers you a free pardon, of which you are undeserving, for you all ought to be hanged: but it is only on condition that you take up arms in his cause."

      Had this redcoated captain known my uncle better, he might have selected his words with greater wisdom; but, unacquainted with our family, he could have made no greater mistake, and proud am I to set down that which I know to be my uncle's answer:

      "Sir, the people whom I am come to represent will scarcely submit to such condition."

      Then it was that Captain Ardesoif flew into a passion, giving no heed to the possibility that it might be dangerous to allow his tongue free rein.

      "Represent!" he cried in a fury. "You insolent rebel, if you dare speak in such language I will have you hung up at the yard-arm," and the redcoated captain pointed to his ship, which lay in the harbor.

      I had never set myself down as a member of the James family if such words had been allowed to pass unnoticed, but those who know my uncle could have told the captain that he was most unwise in attempting to force us into any agreement.

      The king's officer was armed, and my uncle, clad in a garb such as is worn by us of Williamsburg, carried no weapons. This fact, however, had no weight with Major James.

      Seizing the chair upon which he sat he rushed upon the insolent Britisher, striking him senseless with a single blow, and then making his escape at once, for the king's soldiers were there in force, he mounted his horse and fled from the town.

      All possibility that we of Williamsburg would "submit" had vanished, and within four and twenty hours came the enrolment of that body of true gentlemen and noble soldiers who were afterward known, and the memory of whom will live so long as the history of these colonies are told, as "Marion's Brigade."

      It was the major, as a matter of course, who took command of these volunteers, and they were divided into four companies, each under a captain.

      The first was led by William M'Cottry; Henry Mouzon had command of the second. John of the Lake – another branch of the James family, and an uncle to the major – was captain of the third, while John McCauley stood at the head of the fourth division.

      These gentlemen, who had come together within less than four and twenty hours after my uncle's interview with the representative of his majesty at Georgetown were all residents of the district of Williamsburg, and were rendezvoused on the banks of Lynch's Creek nearby where it joins the Great Pedee River within less than two miles of my mother's home.

      All this is set down by way of explanation, so that whosoever in the days to come shall read what I am so lamely doing, may understand how it chanced that we two lads played so important a part – for circumstances put it in our way to do good work – in the struggle which finally freed the Carolinas, as well as the other colonies of America, from the burdens which the king put upon them.

      Percy and I had seen somewhat of warfare, or at least we believed we had, and watched keenly the movements of this brigade which my uncle commanded, expecting that such deeds of valor would be performed by him and his soldiers as must give new impetus to the Cause throughout all the colonies.

      Then, to our great surprise, we learned that General Marion was appointed chief over the forces raised in the Williamsburg district, and our hearts were filled with disappointment because it appeared to us that thereby

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