Not a man moved; every trooper of the Williamsburg brigade stood firm in place, as if determined that he, and he alone, should be the one who would give up his life for the other, and among them all were we four comrades, tried and true—comrades who were destined to ride on until we saw one of our number fall, foully murdered, without being able to raise a hand in his defense.
Now it was that General Marion advanced to the side of my uncle, his eyes all aflame, and more enthusiasm showing in that quiet face than I had ever believed could find a place there.
"Gentlemen of the Williamsburg brigade, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Many a time before have you proven yourselves heroes; but never so truly, never so emphatically as at this moment—when every man of you is eager to offer up his life, and in that for which the volunteers are called I do assure you there are eight chances out of ten that no one comes back alive. Now I entreat that so many of you as are fathers of families shall step back, allowing younger soldiers to take your places."
Yet every man remained in his place, and it seemed much as though we might come at loggerheads, one with the other, as to who should die first, for all knew that this attack upon the well-fortified, over-garrisoned post of Georgetown was no child's play, no feint at warfare; but a desperate undertaking which to succeed must be carried on with total disregard of life.
"Now has come the time when I myself must make the selection," the major, my uncle, said with a look on his face which told how greatly this exhibition pleased him. "I shall call out one man, and the general may select another, each making his choice until the forty have been chosen. Let it be remembered that in this case I exercise the right to use favoritism, for there be among you lads of my own blood whom I am minded shall go forth in preference to those who have families dependent upon them. Therefore, men, do not blame me when I claim what I may claim, even disregarding the privilege of others."
Then it was, and proud am I to write it, that he cried out:
"Robert Sumter!"
I stepped forward, my face flushed with pardonable pride, and in his turn the general cried:
"Percy Sumter!" my uncle next called, and the general added: