The Minute Boys of South Carolina : $b A story of "How we boys aided Marion the Swamp Fox"Otis, James
History
The Minute Boys of South Carolina : $b A story of "How we boys aided Marion the Swamp Fox"
Otis, James
Marion, Francis, 1732-1795 -- Juvenile fiction; South Carolina -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
As the confusion increased, the reports of musketry sounding nearer, I
said to myself that the lad was right, and found it most difficult to
prevent giving way to senseless demonstrations of joy.
I wish it might be possible to describe the scene as we saw it thus
outlined faintly in the gloom. We could not distinguish individual
forms; there were beneath the window so many in the throng that it was
before our eyes as a dark, writhing mass with now and then a trooper
trying to force a horse among the frantic men. And here, there, and
everywhere shouts of command, cries for this man or that, with over all
screams of pain as the missiles, which were being poured in by that
unseen force, took effect.
It is not to be supposed that this scene of confusion was continued
many seconds. We saw the dark mass separate into something like
military formation. The meaningless cries died away as the first shock
of surprise passed off and the instinct of the soldier came uppermost.
It may not have been more than two minutes before horses were brought
for the officers who had been feasting in the room beneath us, and
the men were forming in platoons; but during all this while came the
thunder of horses’ feet and the crackling of musketry, the cries of
command and the groans and shrieks of agony.
It never entered my mind that we lads were in position to strike a blow
just then. There could be no question but that our people were making
an attack, and I remained there overhanging the eaves of the building,
watching with all my heart in my eyes as I said that now was come our
deliverance, yet not a finger did I raise toward helping myself.
The first fire from our people was deadly in effect, as could be
seen by the huddled masses lying here and there upon the ground when
the troopers formed in line, but yet it was not sufficient to win a
victory, for the surprise had not been so complete as to create a
stampede.
“It is to be a battle here in the night!” I said, forcing my way back
from the window with difficulty, because all the lads were pressing
close upon me. “It is to be a battle, and if Archie or Gabriel failed
to meet those who are making the attack, then are they ignorant of the
great odds against them!”
It was necessary now to speak at the full strength of one’s lungs in
order that the words should be heard, for the Britishers had in turn
opened fire, and the detonations of the weapons literally caused the
air to quiver.
My cheeks redden with shame even at this late day, when I set down the
fact that it was Jacob Breen who recalled me to a sense of duty--that I
had failed of understanding what part we might play in this battle.
“The time has come when we should take a hand,” the lad said suddenly.
“I know of no reason why we must skulk here like cowards!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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