The battle of the Cowpens is the only one on record, in which the American troops fairly conquered the British with the bayonet in open field.
In the extreme danger incurred by the rear guard, in protecting the retreat of Greene, Colonel Howard bore his full share; in the battle of Guildford, which soon followed, we find his skill and bravery displayed in no common degree. In his own manuscript, he observes:—“My station being on the left of the first regiment, and next the cleared ground, Captain Gibson, deputy adjutant-general, rode up to me, and informed me that a party of the enemy inferior in number to us, were pushing through the cleared ground and into our rear, and that if we would face about and charge them, we might take them. I rode to Colonel Gunby and gave him the information. He did not hesitate to order the regiment to face about, and we were immediately engaged with the guards. Our men gave them some well directed fires, and we then advanced and continued firing. At this time Gunby’s horse was shot, and falling upon him, injured him, but not severely. Major Anderson was killed about this time. As we advanced, I observed Washington’s horse, and as their movements were quicker than ours, they first charged and broke the enemy. My men followed very quickly, and we pressed through the guards, many of whom had been knocked down by the horse without being much hurt. We took some prisoners, and the whole were in our power.
“After passing through the guards, as before stated, I found myself in the cleared ground, and saw the seventy-first regiment near the court-house, and other columns of the enemy appearing in different directions.
“Washington’s horse having gone off, I found it necessary to retire, which I did leisurely; but many of the guards who were lying on the ground, and who we supposed were wounded, got up and fired at us as we retired.”
Such is the unadorned narrative of this brave and gallant soldier. At the battle of Hobkirk’s Hill, he also ably distinguished himself. At Eutaw he had the command of the second Maryland regiment, who distinguished themselves at the bayonet’s point, and (according to Lee) in encountering the obstinate resistance of the Buffs, many of the Marylanders and of the Buffs were mutually transfixed with each other’s bayonets. Colonel Howard, in a letter, says, “nearly one-half of my men were killed or wounded, and I had seven officers out of twelve disabled; four killed, and three severely wounded.” Towards the end of the battle, Colonel Howard received a ball in the left shoulder, which, passing entirely through, came out under the shoulder-blade, and disabled him. In a letter from General Greene to General Smallwood, written a few days after the battle, he says, “nothing could exceed the gallantry of the Maryland line, the uncommon bravery of Colonels Howard, Williams, and the other officers, and the free use of the bayonet, by this and some other corps, gave us the victory.”
As soon as he was able to be removed, Colonel Howard was taken home, followed by the affectionate commendations of his brother officers. General Greene, in writing to a friend, after his departure, says, “Colonel Howard is as good an officer as the world afforded, and deserves a statue of gold, no less than the Roman or Grecian heroes.”
At the conclusion of the war, Colonel Howard retired to his estates in Baltimore county, and soon after married Margaret, the daughter of Benjamin Chew, of Philadelphia. He was shortly after chosen governor of Maryland, which office he filled for three years. In 1795, General Washington invited him to a seat in his cabinet, but this was declined. In 1796, he was transferred from the legislature of his own state to the senate of the United States, where he remained seven years; he then returned again to his agricultural pursuits, where he remained till the trumpet of war broke in upon his retirement in 1814. The capture of Washington by the enemy, and the meditated attack upon Baltimore, demanded a preparation for resistance, and a troop of aged men was organized to render such services as their strength would allow, and Colonel Howard was, by unanimous consent, placed at its head. Colonel Howard now began to feel the effects of his early wound, which at every slight exposure brought on severe pain, which made inroads in his constitution not easily repaired. In 1821 he had the misfortune to lose his eldest daughter, and in 1822 his eldest son, and in 1824, the loss of his devoted wife gave him a shock from which he never recovered; from that time his health began fast to decline, and in October, 1827, he resigned his life with characteristic fortitude and pious resignation. An obituary notice written by a celebrated dignitary of the Catholic church, demands a place in these pages. “One after another, the stars of our revolutionary firmament are sinking below the horizon. They rise in another hemisphere, as they set to us; and the youth of other times will gaze upon their lustre, as he learns their names and marks them clustering into constellations, which will recall to his mind some interesting event of our period of struggle.” An able historiographer thus speaks of the lamented Howard: “In private life he was distinguished for the amenity of his manners, his hospitality, and his extensive and useful knowledge. He possessed a memory uncommonly minute, and a love of information that never sank under the labor of acquisition. These faculties rendered him, perhaps, the most accurate repository of the history of his own time, in this or any other country. His habits of life were contemplative, cautious, scrupulously just, and regulated by the strictest method. Few men have enjoyed a more enviable lot;—his youth distinguished in the field, his age in the council, and every period solaced by the attachment of friends. Affluent in fortune, as rich in public regard, and blessed in his domestic and personal associations, he has glided away from the small band of his compatriots, as full of honors as of years. The example of such a citizen is a legacy to his country, of more worth than the precepts of an age.”
MEDAL.
Occasion.—Victory at the Cowpens, N. Carolina.
Device.—An officer mounted, with uplifted sword, pursuing an officer on foot, bearing a stand of colors: Victory descending in front over the former, holding a wreath in her right hand over his head: a palm-branch in her left hand.