THE PATRIOT

Wilkins laughs uneasily.  Tavington rides off.  Wilkins

follows.

INT.  CHURCH - PEMBROKE - DAY

REV. OLIVER, a stern and sturdy man of the cloth,

addresses his flock, among whom are Mr. and Mrs. Howard;

Anne; and DAN SCOTT and ROB FIELDING, decent craftsmen.

Gabriel slips in and sits in the rear pew.

                         REV. OLIVER

          ... and so those of us who call

          ourselves Patriots must ask

          ourselves first, how best we might

          serve the Lord, knowing that service

          to Him is rendered here on earth.

          Ask yourself if it is possible to

          forsake righteousness in the pursuit

          of justice and freedom...

Gabriel stands.

                         GABRIEL

          And end up like those men outside?

All eyes turn to Gabriel.

                         GABRIEL

          Your liberty is in jeopardy, more

          dire than that which threatens your

          righteousness.

HARDWICK skeptically shakes his head and jerks his head

out toward the hanging bodies.

                         HARDWICK

          If King George can hang those men

          out there, he can hang any of us.

                         GABRIEL

          If enough of you come with me and

          serve in the Patriot militia, you

          won't have to be afraid of King

          George.

                         HARDWICK

          I do fear King George and know of no

          reason why I should test him.

A light, female voice speaks out:

                         ANNE (O.S.)

          Liberty, that's the reason.

They all turn to see Anne.  A few of the men roll their

eyes at her earnestness.  Gabriel looks at her

appreciatively.  Her father is surprised but guardedly

proud as she continues.

                         ANNE

          If we let the Redcoats take away our

          God-given rights, then we serve

          neither God, nor ourselves, we serve

          only King George.

Silence.  Rev. Oliver locks his eyes on Anne who withers a

bit.

                         REV. OLIVER

          Anne...

                         ANNE

          I'm sorry, Reverend...

                         REV. OLIVER

          Don't be.  I couldn't have said it

          better myself.

Rev. Oliver takes off his clerical robe, revealing a South

Carolina militia uniform.

                         REV. OLIVER

          As I was saying, we must ask

          ourselves how best we might serve

          here on earth.

A moment.  Dan Scott stands.  Another moment.  Rob

Fielding stands.  Another moment.  Hardwick stands.

Gabriel nods, pleased, then steals a quick, appreciative

glance at Anne.

EXT.  BRADFORD CROSSROADS - NIGHT

Martin and DeLancey ride slowly into town which is little

more than a crossroads -- an inn, a trading post, a livery

stable and a few shacks and tents.  The people they pass

shoot suspicious glares at them.  As they stop in front of

the Boar's Head Inn and Tavern, DeLancey looks around.

                         DELANCEY

          What sort of recruits will you find

          here?

INT.  BOAR'S HEAD TAVERN - NIGHT

Dark.  Smoke-filled.  Ominous.  A dozen coarse, heavily

armed, grizzled men drink at rough-hewn tables in the

filthy tavern.  Among them are BROTHER RANDOLPH, a Native-

American; DANVERS, a one-armed hard-looking man; and

OCCAM, a strong-looking, gently-eyed African.

Martin and DeLancey walk in and stop at the door, met by

cold, hard glares from every man in the place.  DeLancey

speaks quietly to Martin, unheard by the patrons:

                         DELANCEY

          You are sure this is the right place

          to recruit?

Martin steps forward and calls out loudly:

                         MARTIN

          GOD SAVE KING GEORGE!

Every man in the place rises, glaring viciously at Martin

and DeLancey.  Martin turns to DeLancey.

                         MARTIN

          We're in the right place.

INT.  BOAR'S HEAD TAVERN - LATER

Martin sits at a table, writing out enlistment scripts.

The rough men are gathered around, drinking, smoking,

watching.

                         BROTHER JOSEPH

          Any bounty?

                         MARTIN

          No scalp money, but you can keep or

          sell back to me the muskets and gear

          of any Redcoat you kill.  Twenty

          shillings a kit.

Brother Joseph nods, takes a script.  JOHN BILLINGS, a

big, grizzled man about Martin's age steps up to the

table.

                         BILLINGS

          You expect to hold Cornwallis with

          militia?

Martin looks up with a thin, familiar smile.

                         MARTIN

          John Billings... been some time.

                         BILLINGS

          Trust you and Harry Lee.  Remember

          that damned overland you two thought

          up in '62 to hit Fort Louis?

                         MARTIN

          It worked.

Billings nods and takes a drink.  He trades bottle for

script with Martin who drinks as Billings signs.  ROLLINS,

a huge, beast of a man sits with his feral, red-haired,

freckle-faced, six-year-old son at his side.  Rollins

spits a huge hocker of tobacco juice onto the floor.

                         ROLLINS

          Twenty shillings kit bounty...

          that's like to get me near rich.

          I'm in.

Danvers steps up, takes the bottle from Martin and drinks.

                         DANVERS

          My brother got hanged down to

          Acworth.  A pissant Redcoat

          lieutenant said he'll kill me if I

          cut him down... he's all swelled up.

                  (holds up his stump)

          I ain't no good to you, but you can

          have my negro, here, fight in my

          'stead.

Occam is startled to hear that.

                         DANVERS

          Bring him back if you can, if not,

          so long's you make them pay.

Martin nods and drinks, as do the others, including

DeLancey.

EXT.  SNOW'S ISLAND - SANTEE SWAMPS - NIGHT

A CACOPHONY OF BIRDS AND INSECTS.  Swamp maples and

willows form a canopy over moss-covered mounds and pools

of plant-choked water.  Gabriel leads several men, riding

along a dry path that snakes through the swamp.  They

cross a narrow land bridge onto a wooded island where

Martin and a dozen-and-a-half coarse-looking men are

encamped.

CLOSE SHOT:  Several of Thomas' brightly painted LEAD

SOLDIERS MELT in a cast-iron pan.

Gabriel steps up behind Martin and watches as he pours the

lead into a bullet mold.

                         GABRIEL

          This war is about more than Thomas.

                         MARTIN

          How many did you get?

                         GABRIEL

          Twelve.

Martin glances at the new arrivals as Gabriel looks over

at the knot of coarse men Martin got.  Occam sits apart

from the coarse men, gripping a Bible.  Gabriel doesn't

notice him.

                         GABRIEL

          That's not the sort we need.

                         MARTIN

          That's just the sort we need.

Martin closes the lid of the bullet mold and dips it into

a bucket of water which HISSES and STEAMS.  Billings and

DeLancey listen.

                         GABRIEL

          If you're here only for revenge,

          you're doing a disservice to Thomas

          as well as yourself.

                         MARTIN

          How old are you?

                         GABRIEL

          You know how old I am.

                         MARTIN

          God help us all when you're forty.

Martin takes the still hot bullets from the mold and puts

them in a pouch attached to his weapons' belt.  Gabriel

shakes his head and heads off to tend his horse.

                         BILLINGS

          What about me?  Am I one of that

          sort?

                         MARTIN

          You're the sort that gives that sort

          a bad name.

Billings considers that and takes a drink.

                         MARTIN

          Put away the bottle.  We move out in

          two hours.

EXT.  SWAMP ROAD - DAY

A raised road through the dark swamp.  Only mottled

sunlight pierces the canopy.  INSECTS BUZZ.

A British supply train of several dozen wagons, a herd of

horses and accompanying Redcoats makes its way down the

road.

In the darkness of the swamps on either side of the road,

shadowed figures, obscured by the mud, water and foliage,

track them...

All is still... a BIRD SCREECHES...

BOTH SIDES OF THE ROAD ERUPTS IN MUSKET FIRE...

Perfectly aimed SHOTS... fired by unseen men hidden deep

within the swamp...

First the REDCOAT MEN OF RANK FALL, a captain, a

lieutenant, two sergeants... then the corporals...

Then, the SLAUGHTER of the privates begins...

They try to gather themselves for a volley but the

WITHERING CROSSFIRE is relentless...

A few Redcoats get off SHOTS to no effect and those who

fire are immediately targeted and KILLED...

It's a battle with ghosts, that cannot be won by the

exposed Redcoats...

Down to a dozen Redcoats, most with spent muskets...

No chance... they ABANDON THE WAGONS AND FLEE, back down

the road...

Only to find their way suddenly BLOCKED by...

MARTIN AND A PHALANX of the roughest of his men, standing

directly in their path in the middle of the road...

Martin raises his tomahawk and CHARGES, followed closely

by Billings, DeLancey, Brother Randolph and others...

They wade into the terrified Redcoats, FIRING at POINT

BLANK range, HACKING at them with tomahawk and sword and

knife...

At the wagons, Gabriel, Rev. Oliver, Scott and others

scramble up onto the road...

Watch, stunned, at the viciousness with which Martin and

his cohort SLAUGHTER the Redcoats...

Two Redcoats left... about to throw down their weapons...

DeLancey and Billings race up to them and HACK THEM TO

DEATH, DeLancey using his sword, Billings his massive

hunting knife...

Gabriel and Rev. Oliver are appalled.

                         REV. OLIVER

          Stop...!

Too late... the REDCOATS FALL... ALL DEAD...

SILENCE... everyone stops where they stand, catching their

breath... surveying the scene through a hovering cloud of

musket smoke...

                         GABRIEL

          Father!  Those men were about to

          surrender.

Billings laughs.  DeLancey shrugs.

                         DELANCEY

          Perhaps.  We shall never know, shall

          we?

That angers Gabriel, Rev. Oliver and the civilized men

near them.

                         REV. OLIVER

          That was murder!

Martin looks around at the carnage.

                         MARTIN

          A delicate distinction...

He sees that his brigade has divided into two hostile

groups.

                         MARTIN

          ... but in the future wounded and

          surrendering British soldiers will

          be given quarter.

                         DELANCEY

          I piss on your delicate

          distinction...

The men all stop.

                         DELANCEY

          A British man-of-war made no such

          "distinction," when it fired on a

          packet carrying my wife and

          daughters...

All eyes turn to DeLancey.

                         DELANCEY

          I stood on a bark, two hundred yards

          off, watching as they were burned

          alive.

Silence.

                         MARTIN

          You have my sympathy, but the order

          stands.

                         DELANCEY

          Piss on your sympathy.  Who are you

          to give such an order?  I know what

          you and your men did at Fort Charles

          to my countrymen.

Gabriel notes the comment.

                         MARTIN

          I'm the commanding officer of this

          brigade.  This is militia, not

          regular army.  Every man here comes

          and goes as he pleases, but while

          he's here, he follows my orders.

DeLancey calmly leans down and uses the coat of the man he

just killed to wipe the blood from the blade of his sword.

He stands.

                         DELANCEY

          I serve at my pleasure.  I do not

          serve under you.

He grips his sword.  All eyes shift to Martin for his

response.  Martin, holding his bloody tomahawk, locks eyes

with DeLancey.  A tense moment.

A COMMOTION OF BARKING DOGS AND YELLING MEN draws their

attention.  The stand-off breaks.  DeLancey nods.

                         DELANCEY

          And it is my pleasure to give

          quarter to wounded and surrendering

          British soldiers... for the time

          being.

That's good enough for Martin.  He strides over toward the

wagons where he finds Billings cowering before TWO HUGE

GREAT DANES, standing guard at one of the wagons.

                         BILLINGS

          Shoot them!  Shoot the damn things!

Rollins prepares to do so.

                         MARTIN

          Put that pistol down!

                         SCOTT

          They followed us from the bridge.

          They won't let anyone near the

          wagon.

Martin steps forward, speaking softly but firmly to the

dogs.

                         MARTIN

          Stay... stay... stay...

The dogs waver between obeying Martin and ripping out his

throat.

                         MARTIN

          Don't you growl at me!

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

then firmly pats them.

                         MARTIN

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

Several of the men check out the wagons.  Billings eases

past the dogs.  Scott opens a large case and finds it

filled with bottles.

                         SCOTT

          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.

Martin grabs some papers, scans them, then finds matching

cases on nearby wagons.

                         MARTIN

          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.

                         MARTIN

          His journals, letters, maps,

          books...

Scott calls from another wagon.

                         SCOTT

          Colonel, we got a wagon full of

          officer's uniforms and more powder

          and muskets here.

Ignoring Scott, Martin grabs another handful of the papers

and starts to read.

EXT.  SNOW'S ISLAND ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT

CAMERA MOVES through the encampment as Martin's men take

inventory of the British wagons.  The coarse men are

drunkenly celebrating:  drinking Cornwallis' champagne and

fine wine; trying on his magnificent dress uniforms;

wearing his wigs askew; sniffing his perfumes; playing

catch with a crystal vase.

Gabriel sits at a different campfire, ham-handedly trying

to repair the TATTERED OLD GLORY with a needle and thread.

The civilized men and DeLancey take inventory, casting

side-long glances at the coarse men.  DeLancey is mostly

interested in the weapons.

                         DELANCEY

          ... two-hundred-sixty-six Brown Bess

          muskets, forty-one casks of powder,

          balls, tamping...

Rev. Oliver writes it down.

                         BILLINGS

          We have enough arms for an army.

          Now all we need is an army.

Rollins, clutching a bottle of champagne, wearing a

powdered wig askew, staggers over, jerking his head toward

DeLancey.

                         ROLLINS

          That's his job... French army,

          sometime 'fore this is all over,

          huh?

                         DELANCEY

          In time, trust me, in time.

Martin sits apart from the men 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.  Martin's old boots stand empty while he

wears a new, distinctive pair, apparently from Cornwallis'

baggage.  The TWO GREAT DANES sit nearby, eyeing Martin

warily.

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.

Martin hasn't moved.  He still reads Cornwallis' journal.

Finally, he looks up, sees that it's dawn, stretches and

walks over to a campfire where Billings, DeLancey and Rev.

Oliver cook.  The dogs follow at a distance.

Gabriel sews, having made a bit, but only a bit, of

progress with the badly damaged Old Glory.

                         BILLINGS

          Well?

                         MARTIN

          I've just been inside the mind of a

          genius.  Lord Cornwallis knows more

          about war than I could in a dozen

          lifetimes.