Great Events in the History of North and South America

by Charles A. Goodrich

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!'"

Death of 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.