Marion.—His Character.—Bye Names.—Haunts.—Tarleton in quest of
Him.—Sumter on the West Side of the Santee.—His Affair with Tarleton
at Black Stock Hill.—Gates at Hillsborough.—His Domestic
Misfortunes.—Arrival of Greene.—His Considerate Conduct.—Gates
retires to his Estate.—Condition of the Army.—Stratagem of Colonel
Washington at Clermont.—Morgan detached to the District of Ninety
six.—Greene posts himself on the Pedee.
The victory at King’s Mountain had set the partisan spirit throughout
the country in a blaze. Francis Marion was soon in the field. He had
been made a brigadier-general by Governor Rutledge, but his brigade, as
it was called, was formed of neighbors and friends, and was continually
fluctuating in numbers. He was nearly fifty years of age, and small of
stature, but hardy, healthy, and vigorous. Brave but not braggart, never
avoiding danger, but never rashly seeking it. Taciturn and abstemious; a
strict disciplinarian; careful of the lives of his men, but little
mindful of his own life. Just in his dealings, free from everything
selfish or mercenary, and incapable of a meanness. He had his haunts and
strongholds in the morasses of the Pedee and Black Rivers. His men were
hardy and abstemious as himself; they ate their meat without salt, often
subsisted on potatoes, were scantily clad, and almost destitute of
blankets. Marion was full of stratagems and expedients. Sallying forth
from his morasses, he would overrun the lower districts, pass the
Santee, beat up the small posts in the vicinity of Charleston, cut up
the communication between that city and Camden; and having struck some
signal blow, so as to rouse the vengeance of the enemy, would retreat
again into his fenny fastnesses. Hence the British gave him the bye name
of the _Swamp Fox_, but those of his countrymen who knew his courage,
his loftiness of spirit and spotless integrity, considered him the
_Bayard of the South_.
Tarleton, who was on duty in that part of the country, undertook, as he
said, to draw the swamp fox from his cover. He accordingly marched
cautiously down the east bank of the Wateree with a body of dragoons and
infantry, in compact order. The fox, however, kept close; he saw that
the enemy was too strong for him. Tarleton now changed his plan. By day
he broke up his force into small detachments or patrols, giving them
orders to keep near enough to each other to render mutual support if
attacked, and to gather together at night.
The artifice had its effect. Marion sallied forth from his covert just
before daybreak to make an attack upon one of these detachments, when,
to his surprise, he found himself close upon the British camp.
Perceiving the snare that had been spread for him, he made a rapid
retreat. A close pursuit took place. For seven hours Marion was hunted
from one swamp and fastness to another; several stragglers of his band
were captured, and Tarleton was in strong hope of bringing him into
action, when an express came spurring from Cornwallis, calling for the
immediate services of himself and his dragoons in another quarter.
Sumter was again in the field! That indefatigable partisan having
recruited a strong party in the mountainous country, to which he
retreated after his defeat on the Wateree, had reappeared on the west
side of the Santee, repulsed a British party sent against him, killing
its leader; then, crossing Broad River, had effected a junction with
colonels Clark and Brannan, and now menaced the British posts in the
district of Ninety Six.
It was to disperse this head of partisan war that Tarleton was called
off from beleaguering Marion. Advancing with his accustomed celerity, he
thought to surprise Sumter on the Enoree River. A deserter apprised the
latter of his danger. He pushed across the river, but was hotly pursued,
and his rear-guard roughly handled. He now made for the Tyger River,
noted for turbulence and rapidity; once beyond this, he might disband
his followers in the woods. Tarleton, to prevent his passing it
unmolested, spurred forward in advance of his main body with one hundred
and seventy dragoons and eighty mounted men of the infantry. Before five
o’clock (November 20) his advance guard overtook and charged the rear of
the Americans, who retreated to the main body. Sumter finding it
impossible to cross Tyger River in safety, and being informed that the
enemy, thus pressing upon him, were without infantry or cannon, took
post on Black Stock Hill, with a rivulet and rail fence in front, the
Tyger River in the rear and on the right flank, and a large log barn on
the left. The barn was turned into a fortress, and a part of the force
stationed in it to fire through the apertures between the logs.
Tarleton halted on an opposite height to await the arrival of his
infantry, and part of his men dismounted to ease their horses. Sumter
seized this moment for an attack. He was driven back after some sharp
fighting. The enemy pursued, but were severely galled by the fire from
the log barn. Enraged at seeing his men shot down, Tarleton charged with
his cavalry, but found it impossible to dislodge the Americans from
their rustic fortress. At the approach of night he fell back to join his
infantry, leaving the ground strewed with his killed and wounded. The
latter were treated with great humanity by Sumter. The loss of the
Americans was only three killed and four wounded.
Sumter, who had received a severe wound in the breast, remained several
hours on the field of action; but, understanding the enemy would be
powerfully reinforced in the morning, he crossed the Tyger River in the
night. He was then placed on a litter between two horses, and thus
conducted across the country by a few faithful adherents. The rest of
his little army dispersed themselves through the woods. Tarleton,
finding his enemy had disappeared, claimed the credit of a victory; but
those who considered the affair rightly, declared that he had received a
severe check.
While the attention of the enemy was thus engaged by the enterprises of
Sumter and Marion and their swamp warriors, General Gates was gathering
together the scattered fragments of his army at Hillsborough. When all
were collected, his whole force, exclusive of militia, did not exceed
fourteen hundred men. It was, as he said, “rather a shadow than a
substance.” His troops, disheartened by defeat, were in a forlorn state,
without clothing, without pay, and sometimes without provisions.
Destitute of tents, they constructed hovels of fence-rails, poles,
brush-wood, and the stalks of Indian corn, the officers faring no better
than the men.
The vanity of Gates was completely cut down by his late reverses. He had
lost, too, the confidence of his officers, and was unable to maintain
discipline among his men; who, through their irregularities, became a
terror to the country people.
On the retreat of Cornwallis from Charlotte, Gates advanced to that
place to make it his winter-quarters. Huts were ordered to be built, and
a regular encampment was commenced. Smallwood, with a body of militia,
was stationed below on the Catawba to guard the road leading through
Camden: and further down was posted Brigadier-general Morgan, with a
corps of light troops.
To add to his depression of spirits, Gates received the melancholy
intelligence of the death of an only son, and, while he was yet writhing
under the blow, came official dispatches informing him of his being
superseded in command. A letter from Washington, we are told,
accompanied them, sympathizing with him in his domestic misfortunes,
adverting with peculiar delicacy to his reverses in battle, assuring him
of his undiminished confidence in his zeal and capacity, and his
readiness to give him the command of the left wing of his army as soon
as he could make it convenient to join him.
The effect of this letter was overpowering. Gates was found walking
about his room in the greatest agitation, pressing the letter to his
lips, breaking forth into ejaculations of gratitude and admiration, and
when he could find utterance to his thoughts, declared that its tender
sympathy and considerate delicacy had conveyed more consolation and
delight to his heart than he had believed it possible ever to have felt
again.[50]
General Greene arrived at Charlotte, on the 2d of December. On his way
from the North he had made arrangements for supplies from the different
States; and had left the Baron Steuben in Virginia to defend that State
and procure and send on reinforcements and stores for the southern army.
On the day following his arrival, Greene took formal command. The
delicacy with which he conducted himself towards his unfortunate
predecessor is said to have been “edifying to the army.” Consulting with
his officers as to the court of inquiry on the conduct of General Gates,
ordered by Congress, it was determined that there was not a sufficient
number of general officers in camp to sit upon it; that the state of
General Gates’ feelings, in consequence of the death of his son,
disqualified him from entering upon the task of his defense; and that it
would be indelicate in the extreme to press on with an investigation,
which his honor would not permit him to defer. Beside, added Greene, his
is a case of misfortune, and the most honorable course to be pursued,
both with regard to General Gates and the government, is to make such
representations as may obtain a revision of the order of Congress
directing an inquiry into his conduct. In this opinion all present
concurred.
Gates, in fact, when informed in the most delicate manner of the order
of Congress, was urgent that a court of inquiry should be immediately
convened; he acknowledged there was some important evidence that could
not at present be procured; but he relied on the honor and justice of
the court to make allowance for the deficiency. He was ultimately
brought to acquiesce in the decision of the council of war for the
postponement, but declared that he could not think of serving until the
matter should have been properly investigated. He determined to pass the
interim on his estate in Virginia. Greene, in a letter to Washington
(December 7th) writes: “General Gates sets out to-morrow for the
northward. Many officers think very favorably of his conduct, and that,
whenever an inquiry takes place, he will honorably acquit himself.”
The kind and considerate conduct of Greene on the present occasion,
completely subdued the heart of Gates. The coldness, if not ill-will,
with which he had hitherto regarded him, was at an end, and, in all his
subsequent correspondence with him, he addressed him in terms of
affection.
We take pleasure in noting the generous conduct of the General Assembly
of Virginia towards Gates. It was in session when he arrived at
Richmond. “Those fathers of the commonwealth,” writes Colonel H. Lee, in
his memoirs, “appointed a committee of their body to wait on the
vanquished general, and assure him of their high regard and esteem, that
their remembrance of his former glorious services was never to be
obliterated by any reverse of fortune; but, ever mindful of his great
merit, they would omit no opportunity of testifying to the world the
gratitude which Virginia, as a member of the American Union, owed to him
in his military character.”
Gates was sensibly affected and comforted by this kind reception, and
retired with a lightened heart to his farm in Berkeley County.
The whole force at Charlotte, when Greene took command, did not much
exceed twenty-three hundred men, and more than half of them were
militia. It had been broken in spirit by the recent defeat. The officers
had fallen into habits of negligence; the soldiers were loose and
disorderly, without tents and camp equipage; badly clothed and fed, and
prone to relieve their necessities by depredating upon the inhabitants.
Greene’s letters written at the time, abound with military aphorisms
suggested by the squalid scene around him. “There must be either pride
or principle,” said he, “to make a soldier. No man will think himself
bound to fight the battles of a State that leaves him perishing for want
of covering; nor can you inspire a soldier with the sentiment of pride,
while his situation renders him an object of pity, rather than of envy.
Good feeling is the first principle of good service. It is impossible to
preserve discipline where troops are in want of everything—to attempt
severity will only thin the ranks by a more hasty desertion.”
The state of the country in which he was to act was equally
discouraging. “It is so extensive,” said he, “and the powers of
government so weak, that everybody does as he pleases. The inhabitants
are much divided in their political sentiments, and the whigs and tories
pursue each other with little less than savage fury. The back country
people are bold and daring; but the people upon the sea-shore are
sickly, and but indifferent militia.”
“War here,” observes he in another letter, “is upon a very different
scale to what it is at the northward. It is a plain business there. The
geography of the country reduces its operations to two or three points.
But here it is everywhere; and the country is so full of deep rivers and
impassable creeks and swamps, that you are always liable to misfortunes
of a capital nature.
“The whigs and tories,” adds he, “are continually out in small parties,
and all the middle country is so disaffected, that you cannot lay in the
most trifling magazine, or send a wagon through the country with the
least article of stores without a guard.”
A recent exploit had given some animation to the troops.
Lieutenant-colonel Washington, detached with a troop of light horse to
check a foraging party of the enemy, scoured the country within thirteen
miles of Camden. Here he found a body of loyalist militia strongly
posted at Clermont, the seat of Colonel Rugeley, their tory commander.
They had ensconced themselves in a large barn, built of logs, and had
fortified it by a slight intrenchment and a line of abatis. To attack it
with cavalry was useless. Colonel Washington dismounted part of his
troops to appear like infantry; placed on two wagon-wheels the trunk of
a pine-tree, shaped and painted to look like a field-piece, brought it
to bear upon the enemy, and, displaying his cavalry, sent in a flag
summoning the garrison to surrender instantly, on pain of having their
log castle battered about their ears. The garrison, to the number of one
hundred and twelve men, with Colonel Rugeley at their head, gave
themselves up prisoners of war.[51] Cornwallis, mentioning the ludicrous
affair in a letter to Tarleton, adds sarcastically: “Rugeley will not be
made a brigadier.” The unlucky colonel never again appeared in arms.
The first care of General Greene was to reorganize his army. He went to
work quietly but resolutely: called no councils of war; communicated his
plans and intentions to few, and such only as were able and willing to
aid in executing them. “If I cannot inspire respect and confidence by an
independent conduct,” said he, “It will be impossible to instill
discipline and order among the troops.” His efforts were successful; The
army soon began to assume what he termed a military complexion.
He was equally studious to promote harmony among his officers, of whom a
number were young, gallant, and intelligent. It was his delight to have
them at his genial but simple table, where parade and restraint were
banished, and pleasant and instructive conversation was promoted; which,
next to reading, was his great enjoyment. The manly benignity of his
manners diffused itself round his board, and a common sentiment of
affection for their chief united the young men in a kind of brotherhood.
Finding the country round Charlotte exhausted by repeated foragings, he
separated the army into two divisions. One, about one thousand strong,
was commanded by Brigadier-general Morgan, of rifle renown, and was
composed of four hundred continental infantry, under Lieutenant-colonel
Howard of the Maryland line, two companies of Virginia militia under
Captains Tripplet and Tate, and one hundred dragoons, under
Lieutenant-colonel Washington. With these Morgan was detached towards
the district of Ninety Six, in South Carolina, with orders to take a
position near the confluence of the Pacolet and Broad Rivers, and
assemble the militia of the country. With the other division, Greene
made a march of toilful difficulty through a barren country, with wagons
and horses quite unfit for service, to Hicks’ Creek, in Chesterfield
district, on the east side of the Pedee River, opposite the Cheraw
Hills. There he posted himself, on the 26th, partly to discourage the
enemy from attempting to possess themselves of Cross Creek, which would
give them command of the greatest part of the provisions of the lower
country—partly to form a camp of repose; “and no army,” writes he, “ever
wanted one more, the troops having totally lost their discipline.”
“I will not pain your Excellency,” writes he to Washington, “with
further accounts of the wants and sufferings of this army; but I am not
without great apprehension of its entire dissolution, unless the
commissary’s and quartermaster’s departments can be rendered more
competent to the demands of the service. Nor are the clothing and
hospital departments upon a better footing. Not a shilling in the pay
chest, nor a prospect of any for months to come. This is really making
bricks without straw.”
Governor Rutledge also wrote to Washington from Greene’s camp, on the
28th of December, imploring aid for South Carolina. “Some of the stanch
inhabitants of Charleston,” writes he, “have been sent to St. Augustine,
and others are to follow. The enemy have hanged many people, who, from
fear, or the impracticability of removing, had received protections or
given paroles and from attachment to, had afterwards taken part with us.
They have burnt a great number of houses, and turned many women,
formerly of good fortune, with their children (whom their husbands or
parents, from an unwillingness to join the enemy, had left) almost naked
into the woods. Their cruelty and the distresses of the people are
indeed beyond description. I entreat your Excellency, therefore,
seriously to consider the unhappy state of South Carolina and Georgia;
and I rely on your humanity and your knowledge of their importance to
the Union, for such speedy and effectual support, as may compel the
enemy to evaluate every part of these countries.”[52]
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