Part 33

In the autumn of 1778, Savannah fell into the hands of the British. At that time, Colonel Campbell, with a force of two thousand men, was dispatched by Governor Clinton from New York against that city. The American garrison, under General Howe, consisting of but six hundred continental troops and a small body of militia, was inadequate to resist so formidable a force; and at the expiration of a spirited action, in which the Americans suffered severely, the latter surrendered, and with that surrender, the British took military occupation of the capital itself.

The succeeding year, D'Estaing, with a French fleet, destined to cöoperate with the Americans for the recovery of Savannah, arrived on the coast of Georgia. This intelligence having been communicated to General Lincoln, who was in the vicinity of Charleston with a small force, he immediately broke up his camp, and marched to assist in the disembarkation of the French troops.

Before the arrival of Lincoln, D'Estaing had sent a "haughty summons" to Prevost, the English commander, to surrender. The safety of the former depended upon rëinforcements, which he was daily expecting; and, in order to attain a delay, he required twenty-four hours to consider the question of a capitulation. Unfortunately, D'Estaing acceded to this demand. This proved fatal to the expedition; for, meanwhile, Prevost was not idle. He succeeded in mounting nearly one hundred cannon, and, moreover, the expected rëinforcement arrived, swelling his force to three thousand men; upon which, he replied to the French commander, that he was resolved to hold out to the last.

The original plan of attempting the place by storm was now prudently abandoned, and the slow process of its reduction by siege was resolved upon. The combined forces numbered between six and seven thousand men. The siege was commenced. Trenches were opened, and, by the 4th of September, a sap had been pushed to within three hundred yards of the abbatis. In the course of a another month, batteries had been erected, and other preparations were ready.

On the evening of October 4th, the tragical scene commenced, and a heavy cannonade was kept up during the night. In the morning, that scene became terrific. Thirty-seven cannon and nine mortars were opened upon the city, while sixteen heavy guns from the fleet added their uproar to the thunder of the former. The response to these was still louder and more appalling. Nearly one hundred guns, which had been mounted by Prevost, as we have said, gave back their tremendous explosions. Carcasses, filled with all manner of combustibles, were hurled into the town, setting on fire the houses, and spreading consternation among the inhabitants. Shells came down from the sky, bursting like meteors, and scattering their death-dealing fragments in every street and in the neighborhood of every dwelling. All that day, and, indeed, for four succeeding days and nights, this mutual tremendous firing was maintained. Savannah and its neighborhood became covered with a dense, dark cloud of smoke, through which the rays of the sun could scarcely penetrate by day, and which, as that set, served as a pall to increase the gloom and darkness of the night.

If the besiegers were steady to their purpose, the besieged were no less resolute and successful in their resistance. Little or no impression had hitherto been made upon the enemy's works, and how long they would continue to hold out, the Americans had no means of judging. They had reason, indeed, to believe that a reduction might at no distant day be effected, as the supplies were cut off, and the inhabitants must be suffering intensely. But D'Estaing began to fear for the safety of his fleet, exposed, as it was, on an open coast. In this posture, he proposed to Lincoln to attempt the place as originally contemplated--by storm. This the latter deemed extremely hazardous; but submitting to the higher authority of the count, an assault was fixed for the 9th of October.

At one o'clock of the morning of that day, the Americans were up, and ready for the fearful contest. The French unwisely delayed for some two or three hours; but at length, led on by D'Estaing and Lincoln, the combined forces--the French in three columns and the Americans in one--proceeded to the attack.

Taking a position at the head of the first column, D'Estaing led them forward to the very walls of the English works. It was a fatal approach. Of a sudden, and when the French commander was congratulating himself that he was taking the enemy by surprise, the blaze of a hundred cannon filled him and his troops with amazement, while the balls and grape-shot mowed down their ranks, as did the fire of the Americans at Bunker's hill. Still, D'Estaing ordered the remainder to advance, he himself heroically leading the way. But it was only to death and defeat. Soon wounded, D'Estaing was borne from the spot, while his brave troops remained to meet a still severer destiny. They were mowed as grass by a new-ground scythe. The few who survived, now made good their retreat to an adjoining wood, leaving room for the second column, pressing forward, to supply their place.

These, passing over the fallen bodies of their brave companions, succeeded in mounting the walls; and there they stood--and there, with almost superhuman strength and determination, they fought. But it was not even for such bravery and such perseverance to succeed. If the struggle was now fearful, the carnage was still more so. One after another, and by tens and twenties, they fell side by side, companions in death of their brave precursors. A remnant only was left; and as that remnant succeeded in securing a retreat, the third and last column of the French troops came into action. A similar contest awaited them, which they entered into with even greater ardor and more excited passion; but it was followed by a similar, and perhaps still more fatal, result. The chivalrous Laurens, at the head of the Americans, now made his appearance; and directing his entire force against the Spring-hill redoubt, attempted to scale its ramparts. But it was a vain attempt. The parapets were too high to be reached, and the assailants fell as they appeared, shot down with equal certainty and rapidity. Among the Americans, at this memorable contest, was that Carolina regiment which, at the siege of Fort Moultrie, had so distinguished itself, and which, as a reward for its valor, Mrs. Elliott had presented two standards, as we had occasion to notice, when describing the noble defence of the old "slaughter pen." Nothing daunted by the fate of their companions, this regiment pressed furiously forward; and now, for a brief period, was witnessed a spectacle, which lighted up gladness in every eye: two American standards--the very standards which we have named--were seen waving on the English ramparts. And there, too, was the noble-hearted Jasper himself, with those standards, which he loved better than life itself. But it was a momentary floating to the breeze, and these standards had for ever done their duty. They soon fell, and with them fell the brave and patriotic Jasper. He grasped his standard as he fell into the ditch, and there the flag covered him as a winding-sheet of glory. He had told Mrs. Elliott that he would surrender his flag only with his life, and he was true to his word. Jasper's name--heroism--patriotism--will descend with the lapse of years; nor will they be remembered but to be honored, while the records of American valor shall have an existence.

The issue may be told in few words. The Americans failed, and retired. Many a noble heart had shed its blood; many an arm, which had that day

Shed fast atonement for its first delay,

was folded on the breast in death. And among those who fell nobly, there was one--a high-souled Polander--the chivalric Pulaski--a volunteer in the American service; he fell at the head of two hundred horsemen, urging on their way amid fire and smoke, until a swivel-shot struck the gallant soldier to the earth.

The contest lasted a little more than an hour; and yet, in that brief space, six hundred and thirty-seven French, and four hundred and fifty Americans, were mangled--bleeding corpses on the ground--more than one thousand! Rapid work! It should seem that Moloch might have been satisfied with the victims offered on that day's altar.

D'Estaing retired soon after with his fleet. He had gained no praise: on the contrary, he was censured for his haste in demanding the surrender of Savannah before the arrival of Lincoln; and then, by allowing Prevost so long a time to deliberate, in truth giving him ample opportunity to prepare for defence. The result was inglorious, and served to perpetuate, and even strengthen, the cause of the English at the South.

2. SIEGE OF CHARLESTON.

Charleston had long been an object of cupidity on the part of the British. We have already had occasion to speak of an expedition under Sir Peter Parker and Generals Cornwallis and Howe, destined against that city, and the summary check they received at Fort Moultrie--that "old slaughter-pen"--every one of whose garrison was a hero, and the record of whose combined resistance can never be remembered but to the honor and praise of American valor. That repulse was not forgotten by the British, and, when next an attempt should be made, it was to be expected that preparations would be commensurate with the magnitude and difficulties of the enterprise.

It proved so. In the spring following the siege of Savannah, General Clinton left New York with ten thousand men, intent on the capture of Charleston. Lincoln was still at the head of the American troops in the South. But they were altogether inadequate to defend the city against so numerous and formidable a force as now appeared against him. For his own credit, as well as for the honor of the American arms, clearly he should have avoided a collision. But, over-persuaded by Governor Rutledge and other prominent citizens, and, moreover, reluctant to abandon a place which contained large public stores, or seem to yield where there was hope of success, he consented to remain, and accomplish whatever human wisdom, combined with American valor, could do.

On the 30th of March, General Clinton commenced the siege. He proceeded with a caution, to be explained only by the lesson taught the British at the siege of Fort Moultrie, and a determination not to be under the necessity of meeting with another such disastrous result. In another place, it should have been noted, that Fort Moultrie, in the present invasion, made no resistance, the contest, it being intended, should be on the mainland, and in the immediate vicinity of the city, where such defences had been erected as the authorities were able to provide.

On the 10th of April, the first parallel was completed, and Lincoln was summoned to surrender. To this summons, he replied: "that he felt it to be his duty, and it was also his instruction, to defend the place to the last extremity." Ten days elapsed, during which a second parallel was finished, and a second summons made and declined. A heavy and formidable cannonade was now opened by Clinton, which was kept up, with scarcely any remission, for several days. Meanwhile, Lincoln was almost constantly on duty--straining every muscle to resist the steady, but apparently fatal, advance of his foe. It is related of him, that "one day he was ten hours in the saddle, without once dismounting--riding hither and thither, with his great heart filled with anxious foreboding; and, the last fortnight, he never took off his clothes to rest. Flinging himself, in his uniform, on a couch, he would snatch a few moments' repose, and then again be seen riding along the lines."

Meanwhile, his defences became weakened, and his troops exhausted with labor and fatigue. They had little time to sleep, and even the supply of provisions was limited. Yet, Lincoln continued, day after day, to inspire them with courage and hope. All that a brave commander could do, he did--concealing the apprehensions which harrowed his inmost soul, and for which there were reasons; all that men could do, his noble few did--suffering privations seldom experienced during the revolutionary contest. It was a brave defence! It was a long, protracted, painful struggle! But it was in vain. At length, the batteries of the enemy had reached within eighty yards of the American defences, and preparations were making for a general storm. Thus environed by a formidable force, both by sea and land,

----"Nec spes opis ulla dabatur"--

it was the dictate of humanity, both in respect to the inhabitants of the city, and the brave, but exhausted, remnant of his devoted army, to capitulate. Accordingly, overtures were made to General Clinton, which were at length accepted. Charleston fell, and the entire army laid down arms. By the terms of capitulation, the garrison were to march out, and deposit their arms in front of the works; but, as a mark of humiliation, the drums were not to beat an American march, nor their colors to be displayed. This was severe; but the humiliation was remembered, when, eighteen months afterwards, Lord Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, and "waters of a full cup were wrung out" to him.

3. BATTLE OF CAMDEN.

The fall of Charleston opened the south to Cornwallis, nor was he slow to take advantage of the opportunity of strengthening the royal cause. Baron de Kalb had been sent from the main army to the assistance of Lincoln; but the latter having surrendered before his arrival, the former assumed the command of the forces opposed to Cornwallis. Shortly after, however, Gates, the "hero of Saratoga," arrived, having been appointed to occupy the place of General Lincoln.

The reputation which Gates had acquired in his contest with Burgoyne, had preceded him, and served to stay the despondency and gloom which was extensively pervading the South. The militia responded to his call, and came flocking to his standard. Thus rëinforced, he proceeded towards Camden, the rendezvous of Lord Rawdon. But his haste was ill-judged. Besides, by reason of a serious lack of provisions for his troops, which he had neglected to provide, they were compelled to subsist for several days on green apples, corn, and other vegetables; their strength, also, was still more diminished for want of needful rest. On reaching the vicinity of Rawdon, instead of an immediate attack, before the latter could receive rëinforcements, and when he was more on an equal footing with the enemy, he wasted several days in skirmishes, which served to darken rather than brighten his chance of success. In this interval, Cornwallis arrived with the troops under his command, thus adding to the strength of the enemy, and greatly increasing their confidence and courage.

Indeed, Cornwallis was not slow in deciding to hazard an engagement, although he knew that the contest would still be unequal. Gates had superior numbers. But a retreat would be to abandon all that he had gained in South Carolina and Georgia; and in effect would be the ruin of the royal cause.

The American army occupied a post at Rugely's mills. On the 11th of August, at ten o'clock in the night, the English began their march. Ignorant of this movement, Gates had put his army in motion at the same time, and with similar intent. What was their mutual surprise, when at two o'clock in the morning, the advanced-guard of the British suddenly came in contact with the head column of the Americans! A brief skirmish ensued--but soon ended, as if by mutual consent--neither commander being willing to hazard a nocturnal rencounter.

At a council of war summoned by Gates, the Baron de Kalb advised a retreat to their former encampment, as in their present position they were between two marshes, while at Rugely's mills they would have the decided advantage as to position. In this, however, he was overruled by Gates, who decided to wait the approach of the enemy where they were.

We shall not enter into the details of this unfortunate battle. It was sad and sanguinary. General Gates misjudged as to position; but still greater was his error in attempting to change the order of battle almost at the moment when the battle began. Of this latter mistake, Cornwallis was not slow to take advantage, but at once ordered his troops to charge. Unprepared for an attack so sudden and so furious, the American column gave way--the Virginians actually betaking themselves to flight. All was soon confusion and uproar. De Kalb threw himself at the head of the regular troops, and, infusing into them the fire and indignation which animated his own bosom, led them on. They advanced firm--calm--determined. But the contest was now unequal. They could not resist the impetuous torrent which came thundering upon them. They could not save the battle. And at this time--their ranks thinned--their path obstructed--the cavalry of Tarleton came bearing down upon them with the impetuosity of a whirlwind. "Shot after shot had struck the Baron de Kalb, and the blood was pouring from his side in streams; yet, animated by that spirit which has made the hero in every age, he rallied his men for a last charge, and led them at the point of the bayonet on the dense ranks. Striking a bayonet from his breast, and laying the grenadier that held it dead at his feet, he pressed forward, and, in the very act of cheering on his men, fell with the blood gushing from eleven wounds. His aids immediately covered him with their bodies, exclaiming, 'Save the Baron de Kalb! save the Baron de Kalb!'"

But their efforts to save him were unavailing. He was taken prisoner, and his troops fled. Gates, meanwhile, was pursuing his fugitive army. Their arrest and recall were, however, beyond his power. The rout was entire; the defeat complete; owing, as was thought by men of competent judgment, to the mismanagement of Gates.

De Kalb survived his wounds but a short time. He was able, however, to dictate a brief letter to the patriotic band of soldiers at whose head he had planted himself, and who nobly sustained him up to the moment of his fall. He died in the cause of liberty--regretted by all who knew his worth as a man and a soldier--and honored by congress, which directed a monument to be erected to his memory at Annapolis.

The battle at Camden was sanguinary, and had the effect to spread a gloom over the face of American affairs. The loss of the patriots exceeded six hundred in killed; the wounded and prisoners thirteen hundred. The British stated their loss to be only three hundred in killed and wounded.

Cornwallis was the victor--but the British cause had now reached its culminating point. Elated at their successes, the conquerors grew insolent and rapacious; the Americans, resolute and determined.

4. BATTLE OF COWPENS.

Never did a service require an able and efficient commander more than the American service at the South, following the disastrous defeat of Gates at the battle of Camden. Fortunately, the precise man was found in General Greene, "who, next to Washington, was the ablest commander in the Revolutionary army"--an officer of large experience, and distinguished for two qualities, which were more important, at this juncture, than all others--"great caution and great rapidity." To these were added a wonderful fortitude and as wonderful perseverance.

On assuming the command, Greene found the army reduced to two thousand men, of whom not more than eight hundred were fit for service. The officers, however, had few equals--and no superiors. There were Morgan, Lee, Marion, Sumpter, and Washington (Lieutenant-colonel), men, whose heroic achievements have justly placed them high on the rolls of military fame. Had the army borne any comparison to its officers, either in point of numbers or in discipline, energy, and enthusiasm, the royal cause, in the South, would have met a still earlier doom than it did. But the army was not only greatly reduced in numbers, but so destitute was it of arms, ammunition, food, and clothing, that it seemed a matter of presumption to attempt entering the list with Cornwallis, who, to a well-disciplined and powerful army, added every desirable materiel of war. But it often occurred during the Revolutionary struggle, that "the race was not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong."

The first measure adopted by Greene was unusual--he separated his forces, small as they were, into several divisions, and stationed them at different points. For this he has been censured, as contrary to military rule; but the sequel proved the wisdom of the measure. It served greatly to dismay Cornwallis, who scarcely knew in what direction to proceed, or which one to attack--whether Morgan, Marion, or Lee, who, with their respective detachments, were threatening him from different points.

At length, however, he decided to begin with Morgan, who was stationed at Cowpens, with an available force of less than a thousand men. The plan proposed by Cornwallis was, that Tarleton, with eleven hundred men, should assail him in front, while he himself, with the main army, would attempt to prevent his retreat. On the appearance of Tarleton, Morgan retired; but being, at length, hotly pressed, a contest became inevitable. The first onset of Tarleton was terrible--the Americans gave way, and the victorious British were anticipating the utter rout of their foes. But, at a critical moment of the action, Colonel Washington, who had been watching the various movements of the respective armies, gave orders to his bugler to sound a charge. It was nobly done! Nothing could withstand the impetuosity, the fire, the fury of the assailants. The infantry, which was pressing on to victory, were, as in a moment, borne down, and scattered like chaff before the whirlwind. Morgan had time to rally his repulsed force; and, with such an example as had been set them, they now sped their way to victory. It was a brief, but a stirring, sanguinary scene. Tarleton lost of his eleven hundred, seven hundred--besides two cannon, eight hundred muskets, and a hundred dragoons.

The battle over, Morgan hastily retired, in order to escape Cornwallis, who was bearing down upon him. In this he was successful; but it was only at the sacrifice of the baggage, and a large part of the stores of the army. Cornwallis pursued a similar policy--never was man more determined to make sure of the enemy than he was; and never was man more determined to escape than Morgan. His object was to reach the head-quarters of Greene; but, at the distance of fifty miles, it was his good fortune to meet his general, who, with a small force, was hastening to his assistance.

5. RETREAT--SUBSEQUENT MOVEMENTS.

Immediately following the battle of Cowpens, Greene directed his course towards Guilford, which he had appointed as the rendezvous of his army. This was a perilous undertaking; and the more so, as his route lay across the Catawba, the Yadkin, and the Dan--each of which was liable to be suddenly swelled, and thus prevent his passage; and at a time, perhaps, when Cornwallis would be pressing upon him. Besides, the winter was a most unpropitious season for such an enterprise. The soldiers were poorly clad; many of them were barefoot; blankets were greatly needed, and even provisions were scarce. But there was no safe alternative. Greene's force was inadequate to maintain a position against so formidable a force as Cornwallis had under his command. It was not indeed certain that a retreat so distant, and so fraught with difficulties, could be effected in safety. But it was decided to run the hazard, and towards the accomplishment of his plans, Greene now put forth all his energy and skill.