ThePatriot,爱国者

英文片名: the patriot

中文片名: 爱国者

上映: 20xx

the patriot

by

robert rodat

march 26, 1999

fade in:

ext. the swamps of south carolina - night

dark. ominous. kudzu hangs from the swamps maples. a

dark and forbidding place. a bird cries eerily in the

darkness. insects hum ominously.

superimposition:

french and indian war

a detachment of french soldiers with several wagons makes

it's way along a muddy road cut through the swamp. the

soldiers are wary, scanning the underbrush, weapons ready.

in the swamp, parallel to the road, shadowed figures,

hidden among the brush, silently track the french

soldiers.

as the lead wagon rolls over a muddy puddle, straddling

it, a mud-covered figure, reaches up, grabs the wagon's

undercarriage, pulls itself up and clings, unseen to the

underside of the wagon. the figure, obscured by the mud,

barely looks human.

as the other wagons roll over other muddy depressions in

the road, three more mud-covered figures reach up, grab

and cling to the underside of other wagons.

fort charles

the gates are opened. the relieved french soldiers

quicken their pace and hurry into the relative safety of

the fort. in the fort yard the weary detachment

disperses.

under the lead wagon

the first dark, mud-covered figure silently drops to the

ground and draws a distinctive tomahawk from his belt as

the other figures drop from the other wagons.

the figures crawl through the shadows toward the sentries

who are closing the main gates. they spring... the lead

figure dashes forward, raises his tomahawk and hacks down

at a terrified french sentry...

the other muddy figures join the attack... stifling the

screams of the french soldiers with vicious knife

slashes... gaining precious seconds...

a french soldier cries out... sounding the alarm... other

french soldiers come running out of the darkness...

the four muddy figures, make a stand at the gate, brutally

killing the french soldiers as they come, holding the

gates open as...

dozens of other muddy figures race out of the surrounding

swamp, tearing through the fort gates, joining the

slaughter...

the lead figure, hacks, again and again with his

tomahawk...

blood and flesh cover his arm as the vicious blade rises

and falls amid the screams in the darkness...

dissolve to:

ext. south carolina countryside - day

beautiful sunlight. aerial shot of a post rider galloping

along a road through peaceful untamed woodlands. soaring

old-growth elms arch over riverside maples along the

shores of the gently curving, deep-water santee river.

superimposition:

south carolina

april, 1776

the post rider rides along a raised swamp road. on either

side of the road, gorgeous shafts of sunlight pierce the

canopy falling onto soft, swaying ferns that cover the

high grounds. hundreds of birds sing. the water is

clear, with fields of floating lily pads, each with a

stark white flower rising from it.

ext. fresh water plantation - day

the post rider approaches a plantation built between the

banks of the river and the deep green of the swamps,

passing acres of perfectly tended rice paddies. twothree adult male african freedmen, joshua, jonah, mica,

planting rice. they look up from their work as the rider

passes. nathan and samuel take off running after the post

rider.

the house

the post rider approaches the house, built of native

brick, well-constructed and well-maintained. there's a

barn, a workshop and a forge. it is a home of substance

rather than wealth. on the front porch, margaret, 11,

pumps a butter churn while her brother, william, 6,

watches. they see the post rider. margaret excitedly

runs off toward the workshop while william stares at the

approaching rider who is trailed by nathan and samuel.

int. workshop - day

a perfect colonial workshop, fastidiously arranged with

every conceivable tool of the period. a foot-powered

lathe. a drop-forge. a lifting saw. racks of tools,

planes, hammers, augers, drills, blocks, all hanging in

their places. all very well-worn.

benjamin martin methodically works his lathe, turning a

piece of hardwood, shaving off tiny curls of wood with a

razor-sharp chisel. he's in his late-forties, strong and

weathered. his hands, though big and callused, handle the

chisel with a surgeon's precision. self-educated and

self-sufficient, he has built himself, as he built his

farm, brick by brick, from the coarse clay of the earth.

a finely-made rocking chair, missing only the dowel on

which martin is working, sits on the work table. the

chair is a work of art, thin and light, a spider-web of

perfectly turned wood, no nails, no glue. sitting on the

woodpile, susan, 4, a silent, stone-face wisp of a child,

watches her father. margaret races in.

margaret

father! a post rider!

martin pointedly continues his work without looking up.

martin

very well.

margaret waits, then, seeing that her father isn't going

to come, she turns and races out.

ext. fresh water plantation - day

the post rider rides up to the house. abigale and abner,

a middle-aged african couple, step out. abigale calls out

to nathan and samuel as they run up breathlessly.

abigale

you go tell your father, there a

post rider.

they race toward the workshop, passing an excited

margaret.

int. workshop - day

martin calmly takes the piece of wood out of the lathe,

carefully fits it into the chair, inserts a peg and taps

it into place. then he steps back and appraises his

handiwork. he picks up the chair and hooks the top rail

to a scale, countering with a three-pound weight. the

chair floats. martin blows softly on the weight which

sinks. susan nods, so far, so good. nathan and samuel

burst into the room.

nathan

father! father!

samuel

a post rider! mail!

martin nods, keeping his attention on the chair.

martin

very well.

the boys wait for more. nothing. they race out.

ext. fresh water plantation - day

gabriel, 18, strong and handsome, walks out of the woods

with a musket in his hand and a dozen game-birds over his

shoulder. at his side walks thomas, 14, also carrying a

musket. they see the post rider giving the mail to

abigale with the other children excitedly watch. thomas

runs over. gabriel restrains himself and strides toward

the workshop.

int. workshop - day

martin takes the chair off the scale and puts it on the

floor. he walks slowly around it, checking every angle.

he takes a deep breath and starts to sit down but stops as

gabriel enters.

gabriel

father, a post rider.

martin

i know.

gabriel waits for martin to share his excitement. he

doesn't.

gabriel

may i bring it to you?

martin pointedly keeps his attention on the chair.

martin

no.

gabriel

may i open it?

martin turns with a surprised and authoritarian glare.

gabriel

uh... i can wait.

gabriel leaves. martin exchanges a look with susan, then

turns back to the chair. he takes a deep breath and

lowers himself onto the seat, gingerly adding an ounce at

a time. not a creak. he smiles and sits back with a

sigh.

crack! the chair splinters under martin's weight, dumping

him on his ass on a pile of broken wood.

martin

damnation!

he picks up some of the wood, about to fling it across the

room but stops as susan shoots him a disapproving look.

he calms himself.

martin

sorry.

susan gets down from the woodpile and puts the remains of

the chair in the fireplace. martin steps over to his wood

rack and extracts a fresh dowel. as susan climbs back up

to her perch, martin fits the dowel into the lathe and

starts it up.

the mail sits, unopened, on the hall table. margaret,

william, nathan, samuel, thomas and gabriel hover.

abigale bustles in and shoos them away.

abigale

you get away from there, now.

that's not your mail. you wash up

for supper... you leave that

alone...

the children reluctantly follow her orders, leaving the

unopened mail on the table.

ext. hilltop - fresh water farm - sunset

the loveliest spot on the farm. a beautiful view of the

house, barns, river, fields and hills beyond. a

gravestone stands in the shade of a soaring oak tree

covered with spanish moss. it reads:

elizabeth putnam martin 1738-1773

above her name is a carving of the night sky, at the

center of which is the north star, steady and guiding.

martin approaches. he gives himself a moment to look at

the grave. a soft wind blows some dry leaves along the

ground. martin turns his head, as if listening to spoken

words. push in on the north star on the gravestone.

margaret (v.o.)

that's her, the north star...

dissolve to:

int. girls' bedroom - night

martin stands in the doorway, unobserved, while margaret

and susan look out the window at the night sky.

margaret

... you start from the front two

stars of the big dipper and count up

five fingers lengths... that's

right... there.

susan gazes up at the north star. the girls notice martin

and climb into bed. he puts a chair against susan's bed

and kisses her. he pulls a blanket up around margaret,

who whispers:

margaret

it helps her to know mother's there.

martin nods with a thin smile, kisses margaret, picks up

his candle and walks out.

int. boys' bedroom - night

martin enters, finding william asleep on the floor and

nathan and samuel both asleep in their beds. he lifts

william into bed, takes a slingshot from nathan's hand.

samuel looks up, three-quarters asleep, murmuring:

samuel

mail, papa...

martin

i know.

he tucks in samuel and walks out.

int. foyer - martin's house - night

gabriel hovers near the still unopened mail. thomas lies

on the floor, deploying squadrons of lead soldiers.

martin walks in and pours a drink.

martin

very well. open it.

thomas and gabriel leap for the mail, battling, tearing

into it. martin steps to the window with his drink,

looking out into the night. gabriel scans, thomas reads

more slowly.

gabriel

the new york and rhode island

assemblies have been dissolved...

martin

the middle colonies?

gabriel

rioting both sides of the bay, in

chestertown they burned the customs

house and tar-and-feathered the

customs agent. he died of burns.

in wilmington they killed a royal

magistrate and two redcoats.

martin

foolish men.

gabriel

who, the rioters or the magistrates?

martin

anything about the convention in

philadelphia?

gabriel

poor richard says they'll make a

declaration of independence by july.

martin extracts a delicate pair of reading glasses from a

wooden pocket-box and motions for gabriel to hand him some

of the newspapers and pamphlets. gabriel does so. martin

sits down and begins reading.

gabriel

scott higgins joined the militia.

martin doesn't respond. thomas looks up from his lead

soldiers.

gabriel

he's seventeen. a year younger than

i.

gabriel and thomas wait for a reaction. none. gabriel

sighs and sits down to open more mail. martin's eyes

drift from the page to gabriel. suddenly gabriel starts:

gabriel

father! the assembly's been

convened! you're called to

charleston!

martin nods, not pleased, not surprised.

martin

we'll leave in the morning.

ext. swamp road - day

the martins drive on a beautiful swamp road. the arching

maples and willows form a tunnel of green. the children

excitedly chatter and sing. martin, driving one of the

wagons, is troubled. gabriel, driving the other, is as

excited as his siblings, but he restrains himself.

ext. bennington overlook - day

the two carriages pass a view of their entire valley.

scattered farms with a patchwork of cultivated fields and

rice paddies surround the town of bennington.

ext. santee road - day

passing through rolling farmland, the martins head toward

the coast. they pass a large contingent of south carolina

militia, drilling in a field. the children, particularly

gabriel, watch avidly.

ext. charleston - day

bustling. martin and gabriel negotiate the carriages

through the busy streets. the children watch, wide-eyed,

seeing taverns, a public gallows, drunkards, street

entertainers, well-dressed ladies attended by their maids,

food venders. they pull up in front of a grand house --

charlotte's.

int. charlotte's house - charleston - day

charlotte selton, mid-thirties, beautiful, with a deep

sadness that she keeps hidden as best she can, runs down

the grand staircase of her mansion. she stops in front of

a mirror and quickly primps, then hurries out the front

door.

ext. charlotte's house - charleston - day

the children leap from the carriages and swarm around

charlotte, embracing her, smothering her with kisses.

the children

aunt charlotte! aunt charlotte!

charlotte

welcome! welcome! margaret,

william, look at you...!

(to martin)

they're huge. what have you been

feeding them?

martin

they're from good stock on their

mother's side.

charlotte

thank you. come, come, inside, wait

until you see what i have...

the children

(simultaneous; all

except susan)

presents! for me? what do you

have?

charlotte

inside, inside...

the children race through the door, forcing martin and

charlotte together. they stand awkwardly, their bodies

close, as the children pass. after the children go,

martin and charlotte stand for an extra instant, then turn

and see susan standing, staring.

charlotte

you, too, susan. there's something

for you...

martin and charlotte watch susan walk inside.

charlotte

she still hasn't started talking?

martin shakes his head. they sigh and head inside

together.

ext. charleston square - night

chaos. a yelling crowd of sons of liberty is massed

around a liberty tree from which hang dozens of glowing

lanterns. gabriel walks through the crowd drinking it all

in, turning his head this way and that, seeing:

drunk men. vendors selling rum, ale, food and banners

emblazoned with a coiled snake and the legend, 'don't

tread on me.' scores of on-lookers, including respectable

people, as well as street urchins, whores and drunkards,

watch the proceedings.

gabriel moves through the crowd, excited by the madness of

the scene, listening in to bits of conversation as he

goes.

gabriel stops, noticing peter howard, a one-legged,

middle-aged man about martin's age, standing with his

family on the edge of the crowd. howard's daughter, anne,

very attractive, around fifteen, stands a bit apart from

her parents.

gabriel makes his way over and stands next to anne. they

exchange a look. she turns back to watch the crowd.

gabriel clears his throat and speaks with earnest, adult

politeness.

gabriel

miss howard, isn't it?

she speaks without looking at him.

anne

you know who i am, gabriel martin.

the last time you saw me i was nine

and you put ink in my tea.

gabriel straightens up and speaks officiously, trying to

appear a man above such childish pranks.

gabriel

i believe that was one of my younger

brothers... perhaps samuel or

nathan.

anne

it was you and it turned my teeth

black for a month.

gabriel

i... uh...

the crowd cheers as several sons of liberty string up

effigies of king george iii and governor wilmington. as

they light the effigies on fire, anne's father, notices

anne talking to gabriel. he motions for her to join him

at his side. anne nods to gabriel, taking her leave.

gabriel watches her go. with extreme effort, she keeps

herself from glancing back at him. gabriel turns his

attention back to the crowd. seeing a small knot of

affluent men gathered in conversation, gabriel walks over

and stands just outside their circle, listening avidly.

ext. charlotte's balcony - night

martin, his children and charlotte watch the mob in the

square below, the children are transfixed. martin is

troubled. charlotte looks closely at martin, gauging his

expression.

thomas

look! there's gabriel!

they see gabriel making his way through the crowd. he

sees them and waves, then enters the house. a moment

later gabriel breathlessly steps onto the balcony.

gabriel

it's coming...

thomas

war? war?

gabriel

harry lee is here from virginia

recruiting for a continental army.

he seeks a levy of troops and money.

the governor has vowed that if the

assembly votes a single shilling to

lee, he'll dissolve the body.

charlotte

which would force our delegates in

philadelphia to vote for

independence.

martin

and send us to war alongside

massachusetts.

gabriel nods enthusiastically. martin shoots him a

sidelong glance, troubled by the prospect. charlotte

notices.

in the square, a pair of drunk sons of liberty, pull down

one of the smoldering effigies, cut off its head, and

start hacking at it's groin with a sword.

martin sees his younger children's expressions as they

watch.

martin

inside, all of you, right now.

they start to protest but a look at their father's face

convinces them otherwise. they file into the house.

gabriel assumes the order doesn't apply to him but a stern

look from martin sends him reluctantly inside, leaving

charlotte and martin alone on the balcony.

charlotte

lee will be counting on your vote.

he'll expect you to be the first to

enlist.

martin looks down at the mob without responding. the

flames of the burning effigies light his face.

ext. assembly hall - charleston - day

the capital building of south carolina. a large crowd of

lower-class men and women is massed in front of the

assembly hall. as well-dressed assemblymen walk into the

building, the crowd yells words of encouragement to some

and berates others.

in the square in front of the assembly hall a squadron of

blue-uniformed american continental soldiers drills. a

recruiting table is being set up by a continental captain

and several military clerks.

int. assembly hall - day

two dozen angry, yelling, men of property. among them are

robinson, hamill and johnson, who are patriots. opposed

to them are simms, withington and baldridge who are

loyalists. as martin makes his way to his seat, the

speaker of the assembly pounds his gavel.

speaker

order! order!

slowly, the room quiets down.

speaker

our first order of business...

simms

and our last if we vote a levy...

the room erupts.

speaker

order! order! mr. simms, you do

not have the floor.

the room settles down.

speaker

our first order of business is an

address by colonel harry lee of the

continental army.

an imposing figure makes his way to the front of the

assembly, colonel harry lee, about martin's age and cut

from the same cloth -- strong, weathered, with a powerful

bearing. lee sees martin and offers a familiar nod, which

martin returns, stone-faced. at the dais lee pauses, then

speaks simply.

lee

you all know why i am here. i am

not an orator and i will not try to

convince you of the worthiness of

our cause. i am a soldier and we

are at war and with the declaration

of independence we all expect from

philadelphia, it will soon be a

formal state of war. in preparation

for that, eight of the thirteen

colonies have levied money in

support of a continental army. i

ask south carolina to be the ninth.

in the balcony, gabriel nods in agreement. simms rises.

simms

colonel lee, massachusetts may be at

war, along with new hampshire and

rhode island and virginia, but south

carolina is not at war.

lee

massachusetts and new hampshire are

not as far from south carolina as

you might think and the war they're

fighting is not for independence of

one or two colonies. it's for the

independence of one nation.

withington

and what nation is that?

robinson, one of the patriots, stands up.

robinson

an american nation. colonel lee,

with your permission?

lee nods.

robinson

those of us who call ourselves

patriots are not seeking to give

birth to an american nation, but to

protect one that already exists. it

was born a hundred-and-seventy years

ago at jamestown and has grown

stronger and more mature with every

generation reared and with every

crop sown and harvested. we are one

nation and our rights as citizens of

that nation are threatened by a

tyrant three thousand miles away.

lee

were i an orator, those are the

exact words i would have spoken.

laughter. martin rises.

martin

mister robinson, tell me, why should

i trade one tyrant, three thousand

miles away, for three thousand

tyrants, one mile away?

laughter from the loyalists. surprise from lee and the

patriots. in the gallery, gabriel winces.

robinson

sir?

martin

an elected legislature can trample a

man's rights just as easily as a

king can.

lee

captain martin, i understood you to

be a patriot.

martin

if you mean by a patriot, am i angry

at the townsend acts and the stamp

act? then i'm a patriot. and what

of the navigation act? should i be

permitted to sell my rice to the

french traders on martinique? yes,

and it's an intrusion into my

affairs that i can't... legally.

laughter.

martin

and what of the greedy, self-serving

bastards who sit as magistrates on

the admiralty court and have fined

nearly every man in this room.

should they be boxed about the ears

and thrown onto the first ship back

to england? i'll do it myself.

(beat)

and do i believe that the american

colonies should stand as a separate,

independent nation, free from the

reins of king and parliament? i do,

and if that makes a patriot, then

i'm a patriot.

martin grows more serious.

martin

but if you're asking whether i'm

willing to go to war with england,

the answer is, no. i've been to war

and i have no desire to do so again.

the room is quiet, the assemblymen having been thrown off-

balance. gabriel is disappointed by his father's speech.

robinson

this from the same captain benjamin

martin whose anger was so famous

during the wilderness campaign?

martin glares at robinson, then smiles.

martin

i was intemperate in my youth. my

departed wife, god bless her soul,

dampened that intemperance with the

mantle of responsibility.

robinson looks derisively at martin.

robinson

temperance can be a convenient

disguise for fear.

martin bristles but before he can answer, lee steps in.

lee

mister robinson, i fought with

captain martin in the french and

indian war, including the wilderness

campaign. we served as scouts under

washington. there's not a man in

this room, or anywhere, for that

matter, to whom i would more

willingly trust my life.

robinson

i stand corrected.

lee

but, damn it, benjamin! you live in

a cave if you think we'll get

independence without war...

martin

wasn't it a union jack we fought

under?

lee

a long time ago...

martin

thirteen years...

lee

that's a damn long time...

the speaker pounds his gavel again.

speaker

gentlemen! please! this is not a

tavern!

martin and lee ignore the speaker.

martin

you were an englishman then...

lee

i was an american, i just didn't

know it yet...

the assemblymen and even the speaker turn their heads in

simultaneous anticipation of each rejoinder.

martin

we don't have to go to war to gain

independence...

lee

balderdash!

martin

there are a thousand avenues, other

than war, at our disposal...

martin speaks slowly and firmly.

martin

we do not have to go to war to gain

independence.

lee says nothing for a moment, then he speaks more

seriously, quietly, grimly.

lee

benjamin, i was at bunker hill. it

was as bad as anything you and i saw

on the frontier. worse than the

slaughter at the ashuelot river.

the british advanced three times and

we killed over seven hundred of them

at point blank range. if your

principles dictate independence,

then war is the only way. it has

come to that.

martin is silent for a long moment. he softens and grows

unsteady, speaking far more honestly than he ever wanted

to.

martin

i have seven children. my wife is

dead. who's to care for them if i

go to war?

lee is stunned by martin's honesty and his show of

weakness. at first lee has no answer, then:

lee

wars are not fought only by

childless men. a man must weigh his

personal responsibilities against

his principles.

martin

that's what i'm doing. i will not

fight and because i won't, i will

not cast a vote that will send

others to fight in my stead.

lee

and your principles?

martin

i'm a parent, i don't have the

luxury of principles.

the other assemblymen, both patriots and loyalists, stare

at him, appalled. martin, feeling weak, sits down. lee

looks at his friend with more sympathy than

disappointment. in the gallery gabriel turns and walks

out.

ext. assembly hall - day

the crowd waits. the doors open and a page boy dashes out

and runs to the continental captain at the recruiting

table.

page boy

twenty-eight to twelve, the levy

passed!

the continental captain motions to an assembled squadron.

they raise their muskets and fire a volley into the air.

other soldiers, strike up a martial air on fifes and

drums. volunteers crowd around the recruiting table,

yelling and jostling for position.

the delegates walk out. both patriots and loyalists give

martin a wide berth.

martin sees gabriel, standing near the crowd at the

recruiting table. martin walks up to him.

gabriel

father, i've lost respect for you.

i thought you were a man of

principle.

martin

when you have children, i hope

you'll understand.

gabriel

when i have children, i hope i don't

hide behind them.

martin looks closely at gabriel.

martin

do you intend to enlist without my

permission?

gabriel

yes.

they lock eyes for a moment, then gabriel turns from his

father and walks away, joining the crush around the

recruiting table. martin stands alone in the middle of

the chaos. the fifes and drums continue to play. martin

doesn't hear them.

lee (o.s.)

is he as imprudent as his father was

at his age.

martin turns and sees lee standing next to him, looking at

gabriel.

martin

unfortunately, so. in other

measures he is his mother's son, but

in prudence, or lack thereof, he is

his father's.

lee

i'll see to it that he serves under

me. i'll make him clerk or a

quartermaster, something of that

sort.

martin

good luck.

they shake hands. then lee walks over to the soldiers.

camera cranes up as martin takes a last look at gabriel,

then heads off through the crowded square, moving against

the tide of men headed toward the recruiting table.

crane up ends on tableau of the sunlit city of charleston.

bustling streets filled with civilians, patriots streaming

into the assembly square and fluttering flags -- the south

carolina state flag and numerous 'don't tread on me'

flags.

dissolve to:

ext. charleston - day

the same view of the city which has radically changed:

superimposition:

two years later

the sky is cloud-filled and dark. the flags have all been

replaced by union jacks. redcoats march in lock-step

unison where excited patriots and civilians ran. a fleet

of british ships is visible in the harbor. defensive

emplacements, bristling with cannons, surround the city.

gabriel (v.o.)

... and i apologize for not having

written in such a long time.

ext. charleston street - day

a detachment of redcoats marches past coldly staring

american civilians.

gabriel (v.o.)

as you must know, the fall of

charleston has been a severe blow to

our cause...

ext. charleston square - day

lord general cornwallis haughtily turns from american

general lincoln, forcing lincoln to present his sword of

surrender to one of cornwallis' subordinates.

gabriel (v.o.)

with the sting of that loss made all

the worse by cornwallis' humiliation

of our general lincoln at the

surrender ceremony...

ext. charlotte's house - charleston - day

charlotte supervises her slaves as they pack a line of

wagons.

gabriel (v.o.)

a letter from aunt charlotte

informed me that she closed her home

in charleston before the city

fell...

ext. charlotte's plantation - day

a backcountry plantation. more substantial than martin's

but not opulent. charlotte, her hands dirty, tends a

vegetable garden with a pair of female slaves, while

several male slaves harvest rice in the paddies beyond.

gabriel (v.o.)

... and moved to her plantation near

you on the santee.

ext. slight rise - fresh water plantation - later

martin stands at his wife's grave, finishing reading the

letter.

gabriel (v.o.)

what little news we get from the

north is disheartening, offering us

little solace in these dark times.

i pray for a turn of fortune for our

cause. then, as now, your loving

son, gabriel.

a soft wind blows. martin turns his head, listening for a

faint voice, but hears nothing. he folds the letter,

takes off his glasses, boxes them, and heads down the hill

toward the lights and laughter coming from the house

below.

int. martin's bedroom - dusk

a trunk lid opens. camera pulls back to reveal thomas in

martin's closet. he lifts out some blankets, uncovering a

trove of martin's old military gear -- a worn battle coat,

a box of medals, a military sword, rusted into its

scabbard, and the tomahawk seen in the opening sequence.

thomas puts on the coat which hangs off his narrow

shoulders. he stands in front of a mirror, appraising

himself. he picks up the tomahawk and hefts it.

footsteps.

martin steps into the room and stops. thomas grimaces,

expecting him to be angry but martin simply shakes his

head, takes the tomahawk, and gently removes the battle

coat.

martin

not yet, thomas.

thomas

when?

martin looks closely at his son, giving him the courtesy

of really thinking about the answer.

martin

seventeen.

thomas

but it's already been two years and

that's two more years. the war

could be over by then.

martin

god willing.

thomas

alright. seventeen.

martin offers his hand. they shake. martin puts the coat

and the tomahawk back in the trunk and closes the lid.

int. fresh water plantation - dawn

all is quiet. a dawn mist hovers close over the ground.

some sparrows feed at the base of the oak tree near the

gravesite. distant thunder. low and rolling. the birds

fly away.

int. martin's bedroom - dawn

another roll of the distant thunder. martin awakes. he

gets out of bed and pulls on his clothes.

ext. front porch - martin's house - dawn

martin steps out to his front porch and listens. he knows

the sound, the distant staccato booms of cannon and the

pattering wave of thousands of muskets firing.

one by one he is joined by his children. thomas, nathan

and samuel listen analytically. margaret and susan press

close against their father.

abigale and abner join the family on the porch. abigale

gathers susan and william to her skirts. joshua, jonah

and mica step out of the slave quarters and listen.

william looks curiously at the cloudless sky.

william

is it going to rain?

thomas

that's not thunder.

the sound becomes deeper, more ominous. they all notice.

nathan

father?

martin

six-pounders. lots of them.

thomas

how far away?

martin

four, five miles.

samuel

waxhaus?

martin

just east of it.

margaret

we could go stay at aunt

charlotte's. she's west.

martin

no, there'll be skirmishers on the

roads. we're safer here.

thomas appears at the doorway with a pair of muskets. he

gives one to nathan and offers the other to his father.

martin

put those away.

thomas

but father, they might come this

way.

martin

put those things away!

int. workshop - day

martin works the lathe, trying to concentrate. susan

watches from her perch on the woodpile. a distracted

martin slips, cutting his finger. the blood, landing on

the spinning dowel, makes a quick, bright red, circle

around the wood. martin continues working.

ext. barn - day

the sound of a crash. a horse runs out of the barn,

dragging a tenacious samuel who is holding onto the

horse's neck. joshua and jonah step out of the barn,

admiring the boy's grit. samuel's grip fails and he lands

in the dirt. seeing that he's unhurt, joshua and jonah

laugh lightly as the horse runs off down the hill toward

the river. joshua stands samuel up and brushes him off.

joshua

you go on and get him, there, boy.

samuel grabs a rope and heads down the hill to get the

horse.

on the riverbank

as samuel approaches the horse he see it skittishly

approaching then retreating from the water. then he sees

the cause -- the water in the river has a pale, pink hue.

samuel stares at it, trying to figure out what it is.

on the porch

abigale sees samuel beyond the yard wall and snaps at

margaret.

abigale

look where your brother is... your

papa said you stay close by this

house... you bring him up here,

right now.

margaret heads after samuel. abigale re-enters the house.

margaret

samuel...

he doesn't respond. william trails after margaret.

margaret

samuel, get up to the house...

papa's gonna be mad...

then she sees it, too. the pale pink is turning redder

and redder. and then the bodies. first one, then more,

many more. torn apart. missing limbs. those with wide-

open wounds, are already drained of blood. others are

still seeping, leaving trails of deep red in the paler red

of the surrounding water.

samuel, margaret and william stand frozen, appalled and

fascinated.

martin steps out of the workshop and sees the children at

the river. he can't see what they're looking at.

irritated, he walks toward them.

then, as he nears the river, he sees the color of the

water and the bodies that have hypnotized his children.

he quickens his stride, speaking calmly but firmly,

careful not to frighten them.

martin

up to the house, now. all of you,

come on. now.

ext. martin's house - night

quiet. dark. martin stands on the front porch, looking

out into the night, listening, hearing nothing. he

glances up at the north star.

behind the house, a figure in the darkness, carrying a

musket, moves from shadow to shadow.

int. kitchen - night

margaret and samuel and william talk, their voices low.

samuel

they're going to come.

margaret

quiet.

samuel

we're going to have to fight them

off.

william

father will do that.

samuel

they'll probably kill us men and do

lord knows what to you women.

margaret

samuel!

a sound. they all stop. something moved behind the

kitchen. margaret silently eases the others out of the

room.

suddenly in front of them, a bloody figure

big. hulking. in uniform. margaret screams. william

and samuel cry out. the figure moves toward them...

martin, on the porch, hears the scream, races into the

house... sees the figure... martin reaches under his vest

and draws a heretofore unseen pistol... cocks and aims in

a fast, practiced motion... he's just about to fire

when...

the figure moves into the light... martin sees...

martin

gabriel!

gabriel is wounded, battered and dirty, carrying a musket

and a dispatch case. he sways. martin catches him and

eases him to a seat. abigale frantically looks at his

wounds.

thomas

the battle, were you there?

martin

abigale, get bandages and water.

thomas, the porch.

they hurry off. martin checks gabriel's wounds.

gabriel

have you seen any redcoats?

martin

not yet. what happened?

abigale brings water and linen to martin who expertly

cleans gabriel's wounds and applies field-dressings as

they talk.

gabriel

it wasn't like saratoga. there, we

stayed in the trees, but this time

gates marched us straight at the

redcoats. they fired two volleys

into us and we broke like straw. i

was given these dispatches... i saw

virginia regulars surrender... as

they laid down their weapons the

british green dragoons rode into

them and hacked them to bits...

killed them all, over two hundred

men.

martin's appalled.

martin

they had surrendered?

gabriel nods. martin's stunned. gabriel tries to rise.

gabriel

i have to get these dispatches to

hillsboro.

martin

you're in no condition to ride.

gabriel

i can't stay here... it's not safe

for any of you and i must get to...

i...

gabriel passes out. martin catches him and carries him to

a day-bed. they hear heavy musket fire, very close.

martin hurries to the door and looks out into the night,

the children cluster around him, seeing a strange sight.

a skirmish in the field below the house

pitch black. then a musket fires, creating a flash of

light that illuminates a tableau of soldiers, about three

dozen redcoats and as many patriots.

the strobe of the musket shot provides targets for an

ensuing volley of shots in every direction. then

darkness, punctuated by screams of pain, confused

hollering and the rustling of armed men in movement.

then the pattern repeats itself: a musket fires,

illuminating a tableau of targets for another murderous

volley of shots.

martin

margaret, take william and susan

down to the root cellar. thomas, go

to the back porch. nathan and

samuel, the side windows. keep out

of sight.

they hurry off. martin steps into the house and opens his

gun cabinet. he extracts two pistols and a pair of

muskets. then he steps back to the front door. he waits

and watches.

ext. lower field - fresh water plantation - dawn

first light. the morning mist lies low over the field.

martin warily approaches the scene of the battle. he

carries a pennsylvania rifle, has another slung over his

shoulder, and has a pair of pistols in his belt.

as martin nears the field he sees, appearing out of the

mist, a nightmarish vision. young redcoats and

continentals are scattered on the ground, dead and

wounded. many have been hideously torn apart by the

massive musket balls. blood is everywhere. martin

hurries back toward the house.

ext. martin's house - fresh water plantation - day

the porch and yard have been turned into a field hospital.

there are about two dozen wounded, a few more patriots

than redcoats. joshua, jonah and mica unload the last

wagon-load of injured men. abigale, thomas, nathan,

samuel and margaret help martin tend the soldiers.

william and susan watch from inside. abner stands on the

edge of the yard as lookout.

gabriel, stronger though still weakened by his wounds,

helps, treating a patriot's arm wound, retying a

tourniquet, stanching an ugly flow of blood. thomas sees

and swoons, then grows embarrassed when gabriel notices.

ext. martin's house - afternoon

triage completed. margaret and samuel give water and

food. martin kneels next to a continental sergeant and a

couple of privates who are less severely wounded than the

others.

continental sergeant

thank you.

martin nods, uncomfortable with the thanks.

martin

sergeant, there are seventeen

wounded men here. seven redcoats

and ten patriots, counting my son.

that puts me in a difficult

position.

the continental sergeant knows what's coming. the

privates and martin's younger children don't. a troubled

gabriel, overhearing, does know.

martin

you three are the least severely

wounded. i have to ask you to leave

and find care elsewhere.

the privates are stunned at the request. the sergeant

looks at martin's children and nods.

sergeant

i understand.

he struggles to his feet and jerks his head for the two

privates to do the same.

sergeant

come on, boys.

nathan, samuel and margaret are confused.

thomas

father?

nathan

but they're wounded.

martin

there are rules, even in war.

martin's children are not convinced. gabriel steps over

in front of martin as the sergeant and the two privates

gather themselves to leave.

gabriel

father, no...

martin

we'll be safe this way.

gabriel

even now you won't pick a side?

martin glances at his younger children then turns back to

gabriel.

martin

i have.

gabriel points to the more seriously wounded of the

privates.

gabriel

you stay, i'll go.

martin

no. his wound is less severe than

yours.

gabriel hesitates. the private tentatively steps up.

private

he's right. i'll go.

gabriel backs down. martin hides his relief and turns to

the sergeant and the privates.

martin

your best chance is in bennington,

seven miles east, along the river

road.

the wounded men nod grimly and start off down the road.

martin

thank you.

martin, gabriel and his children watch them go. a

troubled gabriel heads over to help the remaining wounded.

ext. fresh water road - day

a dirt road runs along the edge of the swamps. beautiful

country. peaceful. the ground begins to shake. a

thunderous sound rises, louder and louder. horses hooves.

from around a bend, a detachment of cavalry gallops:

british green dragoons. the finest light calvary in the

world. hard, strong men. excellent horsemen. their

mounts are powerful, muscled and perfectly cared for. the

dragoons themselves are all hardened veterans, marked with

the blood and dirt of a recent battle. tired and

vigorous.

armed to the teeth, each with a flintlock carbine, a brace

of pistols and a sword. some carry lances. flags

flutter.

and at their head, the most imposing man of all, lt.

colonel william tavington. 'the butcher.' aristocratic.

strong. dark. a powerful horseman on the best mount of

the entire troop. decorated. imperious. no temper, just

hard, cold authority. his men struggle to keep up with

him.

behind them, two dozen loyalist militia calvary. nasty,

local men. civilian clothes. riding at their head, amos

gaskins, grizzled, lower-class, wearing ill-fitting

patrician's clothing.

around a bend

the three wounded patriots who just left martin's farm

hear the horses coming, stand on the side of the road,

raise their arms and a white cloth of surrender.

the green dragoons rein in. tavington stops in front of

the three men. he motions for one of his men to lower his

weapon. then he speaks calmly, quietly, to the wounded

men.

tavington

you're surrendering.

continental sergeant

yes, sir.

tavington

what unit?

continental sergeant

first virginia regulars under

colonel hamilton.

tavington

who cared for your wounds?

they hesitate.

continental sergeant

we did.

tavington

with a lace table cloth?

tavington turns to his second-in-command, major wilkins.

tavington

kill them.

tavington rides off. wilkins and several other dragoons

calmly fire their pistols, killing the three patriots.

the troops ride off, thundering past the bodies.

ext. fresh water plantation - day

martin, his family and freedmen continue tending the

wounded. redcoat infantry appear out of the woods,

heading toward the house. three dozen men. scouts and

flank units covering the main body. martin gathers his

family around him, stands and waits.

joshua, jonah and mica stand among the wounded. abigale

makes her way to martin and the children, gathering the

younger ones closer to her.

the redcoats warily eye the wounded and martin's family.

a young redcoat lieutenant motions his men to check out

the house and barn, then does a silent count of the

wounded.

redcoat lieutenant

these men are of my regiment. thank

you.

martin nods. one of the redcoats emerges from the house

carrying gabriel's dispatch case.

redcoat

rebel dispatches, sir.

gabriel steps up.

gabriel

i carried those. i was wounded,

these people gave me care, they have

nothing to do with the dispatches.

redcoat lieutenant

i understand.

the sound of horses hooves. all turn and see:

tavington and the green dragoons thundering down the road

toward the house. it's an impressive, frightening sight.

they rein in their horses, stopping in the yard, enveloped

by their trailing cloud of dust.

tavington surveys the scene, then speaks to the young

redcoat lieutenant.

tavington

lieutenant, have a detachment take

our wounded to our surgeons at

camden crossing. use whatever

horses and wagons you can find here.

redcoat lieutenant

yes, sir.

he hands the dispatch case to tavington.

redcoat lieutenant

we found this, sir.

tavington opens it and quickly scans the contents.

tavington

who carried this?

gabriel

i did.

tavington

(to lt. re: gabriel)

take this one to camden, he's a spy.

he will be hung.

martin quickly steps between tavington and gabriel.

martin

colonel, he's a dispatch rider and

that's a marked dispatch case.

tavington ignores martin and continues speaking to the

lieutenant.

tavington

fire the house and barns. send the

slaves to acworth... enlist the

young ones. leave the rest of the

goods.

abigale is appalled. joshua steps up.

joshua

we're not slaves, we're freedmen...

tavington

then you're freedmen who will enlist

in the king's army.

martin grows distraught...

martin

colonel...

redcoat lieutenant

and the rebel wounded?

tavington

kill them.

the redcoat lieutenant and several of his men are shocked

by the order. martin is, also, but he's more concerned

with gabriel. he pushes past some redcoats and stands at

tavington's mount, looking up.

martin

a dispatch rider with a marked case

cannot be held for spying.

tavington finally pays attention to martin. he looks down

at his anguished face and offers the barest of smiles.

tavington

we're not going to hold him, we're

going to hang him.

martin

but...

tavington draws his pistol and points it at martin.

gabriel tries to intercede but is held back by a burly

redcoat corporal.

gabriel

father...

tavington

oh, he's your son. you should have

taught him about loyalty.

martin

colonel, i beg you, please

reconsider. by the rules of war, a

dispatch rider with a marked case...

tavington controls his shifting mount, keeping his pistol

trained on martin's face.

tavington

would you like a lesson in the rules

of war?

martin doesn't answer. he looks up at tavington coldly,

taking his measure, waiting to see if he's going to pull

the trigger.

tavington walks his horse a couple of steps and shifts his

aim, pointing the pistol among martin's children.

tavington

perhaps your children would.

the children are terrified. thomas is more angry than

frightened. martin quickly steps between the pistol and

his children and speaks quietly to tavington.

martin

no lesson is necessary.

tavington sees the terrified expressions on the faces of

martin's children. he smiles at the effect. then he

holsters his pistol.

martin and his children watch as one of the redcoats ties

gabriel's hands. thomas is beside himself.

thomas

father, do something.

thomas grows increasingly agitated. he sees that his

father is going to do nothing. he gauges the distance

between gabriel and the cover of the nearby woods.

then suddenly, thomas springs. he runs, throwing himself,

into the two redcoats holding gabriel, knocking them down.

thomas

gabriel! run!

gabriel is too shocked to take flight. a few of the

redcoats, including one of the ones knocked down, shake

their heads with sad laughter at thomas' ineffectual

gesture. one of them grabs thomas by the scruff of the

neck and yanks him to his feet.

tavington sees the commotion. without pausing he draws

his pistol and fires, hitting thomas in the back.

thomas is thrown to his knees by the shot. stunned,

confused, he looks down and sees the massive exit wound in

his chest.

martin, horrified, catches thomas as he falls, easing him

to the ground.

gabriel cries out. the other children are stunned to

silence. abigale sobs.

the redcoats are frozen in place. tavington's green

dragoons are impassive, having seen worse.

martin holds his son, looking at the huge,

incomprehensible wound. he knows that thomas is already

dead, though his body still moves.

martin's stunned agony turns to fury. he rises, his eyes

trained on tavington, then stops as...

tavington raises a second loaded pistol and a dozen green

dragoons raise pistols and carbines, aiming them at

martin, gabriel and the other children.

martin freezes, torn between his fury and fear for his

children. he locks his eyes on tavington.

tavington calmly baths in martin's anger. then, with a

hard yank of the reins, he jerks his horse's head around

and utters a sharp command to wilkins.

tavington

major.

tavington spurs his horse and rides off without looking

back. his green dragoons thunder after him.

martin's children begin to cry. margaret tries to revive

thomas' lifeless body, gently caressing his cheek.

margaret

thomas, please, thomas...

a sobbing abigale tries to pull her from thomas' body.

abigale

come, child, come...

the redcoats watch in silence. martin looks to gabriel

who is stunned, torn between shock and overwhelming guilt.

martin turns to the redcoat lieutenant.

martin

lieutenant, please...

the lieutenant wavers, but a look after the departing

tavington stiffens his resolve.

redcoat lieutenant

i have my orders. sergeant!

the redcoat infantrymen scatter, some to get horses and

wagons from the barn, others to torch the buildings.

martin stands among the children, all of whom look to

martin with pleading eyes, waiting for him to do

something.

margaret

papa, look what they did to

thomas...

nathan

father, they're going to take

gabriel...

with stone-faced fury, martin watches the redcoats do

their work.

with leveled muskets, redcoats motion joshua, jonah, mica

and abner off. as they turn to abigale, she rises up

protectively, putting herself in front of the family.

abigale

i'm not leaving these children...

you can shoot me, you damned

things...

one coarse-looking redcoat raises his musket to oblige.

martin intercedes with icy silence, motioning for abigale

to go. reluctantly she moves away from the children at

gunpoint.

from the barns, they hear the sounds of muskets firing and

the squeals of the livestock being killed.

other redcoats torch the house, barn and outbuildings.

the flames rise.

the redcoats bring out martin's wagons and carriages and

begin loading the redcoat wounded.

the redcoat lieutenant and several of his men walk among

the patriot wo