Second alone to Marion in this wild warfare was Thomas Sumter, a Virginian, destined to serve his country in other ways. During the summer of 1780, he kept up so brisk a guerrilla warfare that Cornwallis called him "the greatest plague in the country."
SUMTER'S BAND
When Carolina's hope grew pale
Before the British lion's tread,
And Freedom's sigh in every gale
Was heard above her martyr'd dead;
When from her mountain heights subdued,
In pride of place forbid to soar,
Her Eagle banner, quench'd in blood,
Lay sullen on the indignant shore,
Breathing revenge, invoking doom,
Tyrant! upon thy purple host,
When all stood wrapt in steadfast gloom,
And silence brooded o'er her coast,
Stealthy, as when from thicket dun,
The Indian springs upon his bow,
Up rose, [South Mount], thy warrior son,
And headlong darted on the foe.
Not in the pride of war he came,
With bugle note and banner high,
And nodding plume, and steel of flame,
Red battle's gorgeous panoply!
With followers few, but undismay'd,
Each change and chance of fate withstood,
Beneath her sunshine and her shade,
The same heroic brotherhood!
From secret nook, in other land,
Emerging fleet along the pine,
Prone down he flew before his band,
Like eagle on the British line!
Catacoba's waters smiled again,
To see her Sumter's soul in arms;
And issuing from each glade and glen,
Rekindled by war's fierce alarms,