Great Events in the History of North and South America

by Charles A. Goodrich

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.

We shall not follow him minutely in the various steps of his remarkable and successful enterprise. Often did the English advance columns press upon his rear; and so determined were the former—with such rapidity did they urge their pursuit—that the fugitives were able in some instances to rest but three hours out of the twenty-four, and to secure but one meal a-day. Their fatigue—their deprivations—their sufferings, penetrated the very heart of their sympathizing leader. His own anxiety was deep and wasting; yet he had a smile and a word of encouragement as he rode up, and hurried forward his exhausted columns.

At length they approached the Dan; that passed, they were safe; but this was the point of their greatest danger. Cornwallis was near at hand, and, like Pharaoh of old, pressing upon the children of Israel at the banks of the Red sea, was confident of their utter extermination—he had resolved to overwhelm and annihilate the American army on the banks of the Dan.

They reached those banks. In the rear, covering their embarkation, and, if possible, keeping in check the advance of the now infuriated enemy, were stationed Lee's legion and Washington's horsemen. It was a noble but perilous enterprise which they had undertaken. Had the forces of Cornwallis reached them, it is impossible to conjecture the issue. They had decided to succeed or perish.

But about noon, a messenger made his appearance upon a swift charger, making the joyful announcement that the army had safely made the passage. The guard now themselves urged their way to the ferry. Greene had not yet crossed. He had delayed through his anxiety for the safety of Lee and Washington, and their brave comrades. Who can describe his exultation as they came dashing on their proud steeds! That was a moment of intense joy; but that joy reached its climax when all were safely on the opposite shore, and the deep waters of the Dan were rolling between his army and their pursuers. The last boat that left, bore the intrepid Lee, and, as it grounded upon the opposite shore, the British van had reached the banks. This was the climax of their disappointment. At the end of a pursuit of two hundred and fifty miles, and during which they had destroyed all their baggage to accelerate their progress, it was their destiny to behold their prey exulting beyond their reach. Of this retreat, it has been well remarked, that "for the skill with which it was planned, the resolution and energy with which it was carried through, and the distance traveled, it stands alone in the annals of our country, and will bear a comparison with the most renowned feats of ancient or modern times. It covered Greene with more glory than a victory could have done, and stamped him at once the great commander."

Soon after the events now recited, the army of General Greene was augmented by the arrival of rëinforcements from Virginia, to five thousand five hundred men. Numerically, his force was larger than that of Cornwallis, but most of the troops were for the first time in a camp. Thus strengthened, Greene decided to hazard an engagement as early as circumstances allowed. With this object in view, after giving his troops some little opportunity to rest, he proceeded, and took post at Guilford.

Here, on the 15th of March, occurred the battle of Guilford Court-house, which on the part of Greene had been so wisely planned as must have issued in the utter discomfiture of Cornwallis, had all the Americans behaved with their accustomed bravery. But, most unfortunately, the terrible aspect of the British army, on its near approach, spread consternation and dismay among the Carolina militia; and, throwing down their guns, knapsacks, and canteens, they precipitately left the scene of action. These were followed by a portion of the Marylanders. It was impossible to rally them, or even to stay their progress. But the Virginians fought nobly, as did the second regiment of the Marylanders. Upon these and the continental troops, the entire force of the battle fell. For a time, even with the loss of the aid of those who so ignobly fled, victory seemed to decide for the Americans. But at length Cornwallis, at a great sacrifice of men, succeeded in getting the ascendancy, and no alternative was left to Greene but to order a retreat, while it could safely be made. The loss of the Americans was about four hundred, in killed and wounded; that of the British reached nearly six hundred. The British claimed the victory, but it was a victory which caused Fox to exclaim, when announced in the British House of Commons, "Another such will ruin the British army."

Following the battle above described, Cornwallis retreated to such a distance from Greene, as to present little inducement to the latter to follow, even had his force been able to cope with that under his lordship's command. It remained, therefore, for him to adopt some new plan, and to look in another direction for some field of usefulness to his country's cause. After much consideration, he decided to lead back his forces into South Carolina, and to fall on the line of the British posts between Ninety-Six and Charleston. It was a bold, original, and hazardous experiment; and the more so, as Cornwallis might also return, and press him with his superior force. But the decision was made; and, taking up his line of march, in twelve days he reached Camden, where Lord Rawdon was strongly intrenched.

Taking a position on Hobkirk's hill, two miles north of Camden, Rawdon in a few days drew out his forces, and appeared in battle array against him. At the time the approach of the enemy was announced, the Americans were deeply engaged in cooking food, of which, for twenty-four hours, they had been destitute. For a moment, there was confusion; but, abandoning their meal, as did Greene his coffee, they soon stood in order of battle. The action opened with promise to the Americans. Greene himself, at the head of a single regiment, fought as a common soldier. His troops appeared firm, and even enthusiastic. Judge his surprise, when, at this critical moment, he perceived the regiment of Gunby, the one upon which, more perhaps than all others, he depended—the one which at Guilford had displayed such bravery—that regiment was giving way—was in the very act of retreating. Greene sped his charger among them—headed them—rallied them; but it was too late: the battle was lost. There was, indeed, more fighting, and every effort was made to recover from the shock caused by the retreat of Gunby's veteran regiment. But it was fruitless, and Greene retreated, in rather a creditable manner, considering the circumstances.