"'Oh, yes,' was Mrs. Prevost's reply; 'he is my most particular friend, Colonel Burr.'
"'Thank God!' exclaimed Mrs. Arnold, for she it was. 'I've been playing the hypocrite, and I'm tired of it.'
"She then gave an account of the way she had deceived General Washington, Colonel Hamilton and the other American officers, who, she said, believed her innocent of treason, and had given her an escort of horse from West Point. She made no scruple of confessing the part she had borne in the negotiations with the British General, and declared it was she who had induced her husband to do what he had done. She passed the night at Paramus, taking care to act the part of the outraged and frantic woman whenever strangers were present. Colonel Burr's relations with the Shippen family, of which Mrs. Arnold was a member, had been of the most intimate character from boyhood. They had been his father's friends; and the orphan boy had been taken from his mother's grave to their home in Philadelphia. He stood toward this fascinating, false-hearted woman almost in the light of a younger brother, and he kept her secret until she was past being harmed by the telling of it."
Now Colonel Burr was not present at that interview, but was told of it, some time after, by Mrs. Prevost, then Mrs. Burr. We should hesitate before we consigned Mrs. Arnold to infamy upon such testimony. It is true that the authorities of Philadelphia were suspicious of her, as they compelled her, against her will, to leave the city and go to her husband. On the other side, it is said that she declared her abhorrence of her husband's crime, and her desire for a separation from him, after his treachery; that her father and brother, influential persons in Philadelphia, begged for her not to be banished to one from whom her heart recoiled, and that she promised never to write to her husband, or to receive any letters from him except such as the authorities should read, if permitted to remain with her family. Such, however, was the feeling against her, that she was compelled to leave the State. If these proceedings against her were just, swift was the punishment which overtook the traitress, for she never realized the brilliant position which she hoped to achieve by going over to the king's side, and has left only infamy as a legacy to the future. But if she were, indeed, as innocent as we have good reason for hoping was the case, it is melancholy to think of her gentle soul being crushed beneath the weight of retribution which fell upon her husband, and thus also upon her.
MORGAN'S PRAYER.
There never was a man so bold that his soul has not, at times, felt its own powerlessness, and silently appealed to the mighty God for a strength to sustain it in the hour of need. Daniel Morgan, as rough and self-reliant as he was brave, did not hesitate to confess that more than once in the hour of approaching trial, when the weight of responsibility was more than he could bear, he threw off the burden of his cares and fears at His feet who bears the destinies of the universe.
"Ah," said he, on one occasion, "people thought that Morgan was never afraid—people said that 'Dan Morgan never prayed.' I'll tell you what it is, Daniel Morgan, as wicked as he was, has prayed as hard and as earnestly as ever a man prayed in this world."
We look back now with pride to the victory of the Cowpens, which was one of Morgan's most glorious achievements. But before that battle was fought, while it was being decided upon and prepared for, one of those moments occurred to the intrepid leader, of inward dismay and trouble, which it would never do to disclose to his men, looking to him for direction and example. It is not strange that his soul was troubled. His whole command consisted of not more than six hundred men—three hundred infantry under Lieutenant-Colonel Howard, two hundred Virginia riflemen, and about one hundred gallant dragoons under Colonel Washington. With this little band he was retreating, with consummate prudence, before the "haughty Tarleton," who had been sent by Cornwallis, to force him into action, with eleven hundred veteran soldiers, besides two field-pieces well served by artillerists. Tarleton had light and legion infantry, fusileers, three hundred and fifty cavalry, and a fine battalion of the Seventy-First regiment; he promised himself an easy victory over the American "wagoner," as well he might, with the forces at his disposal.
Boldly he pursued the retreating enemy, expecting to overtake only to destroy him. But he had now to encounter a General who had braved the snows of Camden, had scaled the walls of Quebec, and had faced the legions of Burgoyne. With the greatest prudence, Morgan retreated until he reached the memorable field of Cowpens, near one of the branches of the Pacolet river. Here, in the face of superior numbers, as well as superior arms and discipline, he resolved to make a stand. He communicated his design to his inferior officers, who with ready spirit prepared the minds of their men for the combat. These, hating the British for their late oppressions, burning with the love of liberty and the desire for revenge, and placing implicit confidence in the wisdom of the General who ordered the battle, declared themselves ready for the fray.
Morgan's arrangement was simple but masterly, showing a perfect knowledge of the character both of his own force and that of Tarleton. In the open wood which formed the Cowpens, he established three lines. The first consisted of the militia under Colonel Pickens, a brave officer who had been recently relieved from captivity among the English. The next line embraced all the regular infantry and the Virginia riflemen, and was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Howard. The third was formed by Washington's dragoons, and about fifty mounted militia armed with pistols and swords. Knowing that the militia, though full of courage, were liable to panics, Morgan directed that the first line, if overpowered, should gradually retire and form on the right and left of the second.