The Patriot Page #12

Scott and Fielding roll up their sleeves and get to work.

Marion hears a COMMOTION OF BARKING DOGS AND YELLING MEN

and strides over to find Billings cowering before TWO HUGE

GREAT DANES who stand guard at one of the wagons.

BILLINGS:

Shoot them! Shoot the damn things!

Dalton prepares to do so.

MARION:

Put that pistol down!

SCOTT:

They followed us from the bridge.

They won't let anyone near the

wagon.

Marion steps forward, speaking softly but firmly to the

dogs.

MARION:

Stay... stay... stay...

The dogs waver between obeying Marion and ripping out his

throat.

MARION:

Don't you growl at me!

The dogs decide to obey. Marion lets them sniff his hand,

then firmly pats them.

MARION:

Now let's see what's in this wagon.

Rev. Oliver and Abner join him. Billings eases past the

dogs. Abner opens a large case and finds it filled with

bottles.

ABNER:

Rum, French Champagne, Madeira,

Port...

BILLINGS:

No wonder they were guarding it.

Gabriel opens a trunk and finds it filled with powdered

wigs, all perfectly coifed and stored on head-shaped wig-

stands. Rev. Oliver opens one of several identical cases

and finds it filled with papers.

REV. OLIVER

My heavens, personal correspondence

of... Lord Cornwallis.

Marion grabs some papers, scans them, then finds matching

cases on nearby wagons.

MARION:

These four wagons must be his.

GABRIEL:

And the dogs, too, I'll wager.

BILLINGS:

I say we drink the wine, shoot the

dogs, and use the papers for musket

wadding.

MARION:

His journals, letters, maps,

books...

Abner calls from another wagon.

ABNER:

Colonel, we got a wagon full of

officer's uniforms and more powder

and muskets here.

Ignoring Abner, Marion, sits down on a stump with a pile

of Cornwallis' papers and starts to read.

EXT. SNOW'S ISLAND - NIGHT

Marion sits at Cornwallis' ornate, folding campaign desk,

reading Cornwallis' journal, surrounded by Cornwallis'

field gear which includes furniture, music boxes, oil

paintings and an elaborate folding commode. The TWO GREAT

DANES sit nearby, eyeing Marion warily.

The men have divided themselves into two groups, one

coarse, the other civilized, each clustered around a

separate fire.

The coarse men, including Dalton, Brother Joseph and

RANDOLPH, a grizzled, black-toothed mountain man, drink

and laugh loudly, wearing Cornwallis' wigs askew.

The civilized men, including Rev. Oliver, Gabriel, Scott,

Fielding and Abner, talk quietly.

Marion puts down the journal and walks over to the

campfire where the rougher men are gathered. He stands

just inside the firelight and speaks loudly, so that all

can hear:

MARION:

Today was hard earned but a good

start.

Marion looks at Dalton, then turns to the other men as

well.

MARION:

In the future wounded British

soldiers will be given quarters.

DALTON:

Like they gave quarter to my family?

My wife and three children were

hiding in our root cellar when they

came. The Redcoats locked the door

and torched the house.

MARION:

You have my sympathy... but the

order stands.

DALTON:

And who are you to give an order

like that? We all know what you did

after Fort Wilderness.

That hits home but Marion remains calm.

MARION:

I'm your commanding officer. This

is militia, not regular army. I

can't hold you here, but as long as

you stay, you'll follow my orders.

Marion looks from face to face. Most begrudgingly nod.

That's enough for Marion.

As he heads back to his own campfire he's intercepted by

Rev. Oliver who speaks to him out of earshot of the other

men, except for Gabriel and Billings who overhear.

REV. OLIVER

Thank you.

MARION:

For what?

REV. OLIVER

For trying to impose some decency on

that sort.

MARION:

Don't depend on my decency. I'm one

of that sort.

Marion walks on. Rev. Oliver exchanges a look with

Gabriel, then heads off. As Marion joins Gabriel and

Billings at his campfire, Billings grips his bottle.

BILLINGS:

Am I one of that sort?

MARION:

You're the worst of that sort.

You're the sort that gives that sort

a bad name.

Billings considers that, then shrugs and takes a long

drink. He hands the bottle to Marion who takes an equally

long drink. Marion picks up his Pennsylvania rifle.

MARION:

I'm going to check the watch.

He disappears into the darkness leaving Gabriel and

Billings at the campfire.

GABRIEL:

He shouldn't make light. That

Redcoat should not have been killed.

BILLINGS:

He's not making light.

Gabriel shoots Billings a dubious look.

BILLINGS:

You don't know him very well, do

you?

GABRIEL:

He's my father.

Billings looks closely at Gabriel.

GABRIEL:

I know him well enough?

BILLINGS:

Don't fault him for having grown up

on the frontier. It was a harder

time and a harder place than you

know.

Gabriel looks at Billings, then turns back to the fire.

EXT. SNOW'S ISLAND - DAWN

The men are beginning to stir, gathering around the

campfires, cooking, using pots, pans and other gear from

the stolen British wagons.

Marion reads Cornwallis' journal. He looks up, stretches

and walks over to a campfire where Gabriel, Billings and

Rev. Oliver cook. The dogs follow at a distance.

BILLINGS:

Well?

MARION:

I've just been inside the mind of a

genius. Lord Cornwallis knows more

about war than I could in a dozen

lifetimes.

BILLINGS:

Cheerful news to greet the morn.

MARION:

His victories at Charleston and

Camden were perfect, strategically,

tactically, logistically. But he

has a weakness.

They all turn to Marion.

MARION:

Lord Cornwallis is brilliant. His

weakness is that he knows it.

GABRIEL:

Father?

MARION:

Pride is his weakness.

The men consider that.

BILLINGS:

Personally, I'd prefer stupidity.

MARION:

Pride will do.

BEGIN MONTAGE:
Series of shots as follows:

-- A VOLLEY OF MUSKET FIRE erupts from some thick

underbrush, cutting down half of a squadron of Redcoats

on the march. The surviving Redcoats FIRE BACK into

the trees at unseen targets to little effect.

-- Marion rides with about fifty men.

-- A British supply convoy makes its way through the

woods. Suddenly, Marion's men appear, rising up from

the ground as if by magic, having been camouflaged by

leaves and brush. They OPEN FIRE on the convoy escort,

which holds for a moment, then flees.

-- Marion rides with about seventy-five men.

-- Cornwallis finishes reading a dispatch and furiously

flings it across the room.

-- Marion rides with about one hundred men.

-- Snow's Island. Marion and his men do an inventory of a

large haul of stolen British supply wagons. The booty

includes dozens of BRASS MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, some of

which Marion's men BLARE in celebration.

-- Marion rides with about one-hundred-fifty men.

-- Marion, Gabriel, and some of the other men watch as the

flaming supports of a BURNING WOODEN BRIDGE collapse

into a river.

-- A seething Cornwallis stands at the same spot, looking

at the charred, now cooled, remains of the bridge.

Cornwallis angrily mounts up and rides off. His

contrite staff officers mount up and follow.

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