Fighting King George

by John T. McIntyre

“Never judge a dog by the color of his fur,” said Tom, delighted to have turned the laugh upon the other. “And never judge a man by the coat upon his back. When you, sergeant, have raced through an enemy’s country—a country, too, full of swamps, thickets and almost impassable roads, for months, with bloodhounds upon your track by night and Tories with ropes ready in their hands searching for you by day, you will not look so trim and natty as you do now, and you will not be so ready to laugh.”

The troops of General Gates were a rough, good-humored lot; it required but a moment for them to catch the truth of the boy’s remarks; and with one accord, the sergeant included, they burst into a cheer for the sincerity and heartiness of which there could be no doubt. Tom’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he waved his cap in response, wheeled his horse and dashed after his comrades.

“There is good stuff in them, for all their readiness to jeer,” he muttered to himself. “And they are big, strong, willing looking fellows, too; and should render an excellent account of themselves.”

Marion’s men were halted in the road not far from the headquarters of General Gates. The latter and Marion were standing at the flap of the tent conversing earnestly. Beside the stalwart general of the Continentals Marion looked insignificant; and Gates, like his men, seemed to regard the partisan’s command as a rabble, the like of which clings to the skirts of every army. His face wore an amused smile, not unmixed with contempt. It is a fact that this officer was a vain man, of ostentatious habit and one whose judgment was very apt to be affected by parade and the external show of things.

“I am very thankful to you, Major Marion, for coming to put your company at my service,” said General Gates, patronizingly. “But, the fact is, I have no very great opinion of cavalry, and think I have but little need of it.”

Marion flushed with resentment at this; but controlled himself.

“This is a very thinly settled country, general,” returned he. “I should think that an active troop of horse would be very useful both in securing intelligence and in procuring supplies.”

Gates seemed somewhat impressed by this, and after some further conversation, invited Marion into his tent. The troop of swamp-riders dismounted and picketed their horses outside the camp, preparing to settle for the night. The very rags and poverty of this little band which was afterward to become so famous were but proofs of their integrity, could Gates but have seen it in that light. It was in defiance of the temptations and the power of the British that these men had taken the field, and had the leader of the Continentals been a wise man, he would have seen, even through their rags and destitution, the steady glow of patriotism; which enkindled throughout the state by this little, dark, unassuming officer, and Sumpter, and a few others of equal daring, was to blaze out, at last, in that perfect brightness which was to cause the invader to slink away, confounded.

That night and the two following Marion and his men spent in the camp of General Gates. In spite of the bad impression which his tattered command had made upon the general, Marion’s undoubted knowledge of the surrounding country was noted and made use of. But Tom could not bear the camp or its people and spent but little time there; for he and Cole were constantly scouting over the flats and through the woods, at his leader’s orders, in the hope of catching a view of the foe.

The town of Williamsburg was not a great many miles away, and upon the evening of the first day Tom and his faithful follower rode into the town to see what news there was to be had. The town was a hotbed of patriotism; the very name of King George was execrated there, and the boy was sure to be welcomed and to receive what tidings of the British the townspeople possessed. As it happened, a few weeks before this, a party of British and Tories had entered the place and plundered right and left; a few who resisted, and some others whom the Tories pointed out as rebels, were shot; then the marauders rode off with the warning to Williamsburg to improve in her loyalty to king and parliament or she would receive another visit.