Several yards away, the British artillerists were valiantly defending another cannon to the death. Howard personally intervened. “I saw some of my men going to bayonet the men who had the match . . . who appeared to make it a point of honor not to surrender his match. The men, provoked by his obstinacy would have bayoneted him on the spot, had I not interfered, and desired him to spare the life of so brave a man. He then surrendered his match.” The entire unit continued fighting “[till all] were either killed or wounded.”
In an attempt to change the course of the battle and rescue the guns, Tarleton first tried to gather his reserve dragoons, and then personally charged into the melee. But the Marylanders stopped the dragoons cold. In a flurry of sabers and pistols, Maryland Private Andrew Rock “received a severe cut with a saber from one of the British cavalry upon his left arm.”
Private Henry Wells was struck across the shoulder by one of Tarleton’s men “with his Sword with Such violence that the colar of my coat, my vest, and my Shirt were each cut through, and the flesh & skin Slightly scratched and bruised, so much so that there was a considerable not [knot] or welt on my Sholder.”
After seizing the guns, Howard and his men enveloped the last pockets of British resistance. They galloped toward the 71st, which had broken into squads that formed into small compact groups. Calls rang out for “Tarleton’s quarter.” However, once again, Howard’s humane mercy helped avert a massacre.
Howard yelled, “Surrender! Lay down your arms!”
Several officers delivered up their swords. One 71st Grenadiers officer, Captain Duncanson, gave Howard his saber. “Upon getting on my horse, I found him pulling at my saddle, and he nearly unhorsed me.” Seeing the terror in the British officer’s eyes, Howard asked him “what he was about.”
The Englishman stammered that “they had orders to give no quarter and they did not expect any; and as [Howard’s] men were coming up, he was afraid they would use him ill.”32
32. According to Howard, he received “messages from him [Duncanson] many years afterwards, expressing his obligation for my having saved his life.”
The British resistance melted away as “men surrendered and those that could ran.” Thomas Young recalled, “[They] broke, and throwing down their guns and cartridge boxes made for the wagon road, and did the prettiest sort of running.”
Sensing that the battle was slipping beyond his grasp, Tarleton attempted to rally about two hundred of his dragoons and mount a suicidal charge into Howard’s men. His courage proved fruitless as his men decided to “forsake their leader and left the field of battle.”
Coming in at full gallop, and screaming, “Buford’s Play!” the watchword of Waxhaws, William Washington’s dragoons descended on Tarleton’s fleeing men. Their sabers cut into the infantry scrambling to leave the field.
Desperate to halt the flood of his men exiting Cowpens, Tarleton and his subordinates went to extreme lengths. “Some officers went so far as to cut down several of their men, in order to stop the flight.”
In a last gasp, Tarleton gathered a small group of horsemen who charged into the maelstrom. “Fourteen officers and forty horsemen were, however, not mindful of their reputation, or the situation of their commanding officer. Col. Washington’s cavalry were charged, and driven back into the continental infantry by this handful of brave men.”
Leading his troops from the front, as was his custom, Washington rushed ahead of his men by “perhaps 30 yards.” The Virginian sped between Tarleton and the Marylanders. Several British officers, including Tarleton himself, by some reports, “saw the American commander and wheeled about and made a charge at him.”
The two officers drew their weapons and faced off on horseback. “Tarleton made a thrust at him, which he parried.” However, the slashing stroke snapped Washington’s sword in two.
Seizing the opportunity, one of Tarleton’s officers then attempted to strike the Virginian. But Washington’s African American orderly saved his life. “The officer of the left . . . was preparing to make a stroke at him, when a boy, a waiter, who had not the strength to wield his sword, drew his pistol and shot and wounded this officer, which disabled him.”
A third officer attacked Washington. The Redcoat retreated ten to twelve steps, then turned around and fired a pistol. Intended for Washington, the shot missed its mark and struck the colonel’s horse. Greene’s biographer later wrote, “The noble animal that bore Washington was destined to receive the ball that had been aimed at its rider.”
Seeing that their attempts to kill Washington had not succeeded, Bloody Ban and his dragoons fled. As they were leaving the field, Tarleton’s men attempted to kill some of their prisoners. They shot Lawrence Everhart in the head at point-blank range, leaving a deep hole over one of his eyes. Remarkably, the Marylander survived the traumatic wound and remained lucid enough to talk to Washington. Minutes afterward, he asked Everhart who had attempted to execute him. “[Everhart] pointed out to me the man who shot him, and on whom a just Retaliation was exercised, and who by my order, was instantly Shot, and his horse as well as I can recollect, was given to Everhart, whom I ordered in the Rear to the Surgeons,” recalled Washington.
Quickly mounting another horse, Washington led his men in pursuit of Tarleton.
As the British ran in all directions, the Patriots, including the Delaware and Maryland Continentals, began picking up prisoners. One of the British Legion dragoons attempting to flee was former Delaware Continental Michael Dougherty, who had turned traitor for the second time and was picked up by his own men for the second time. He later reported that he “should have escaped unhurt, had not a dragoon of Washington’s added a scratch or two to the account already scored on my unfortunate carcass.” After wounding the legionnaire, amazingly, Kirkwood took back the turncoat soldier of fortune, “My love for my country gives me courage to support that . . . I love my comrades and they love Dougherty.”
Tarleton’s prized baggage train also fell into their hands. Galloping on horseback and pushing ahead of the Marylanders, South Carolinian dragoon and veteran of Kings Mountain Thomas Young attempted to purloin what he could. “[I] resolved upon an excursion to capture some of the baggage. We went about twelve miles and captured two British soldiers, two Negroes, and two horses laden with portmanteaus. One of the portmanteaus belonged to a paymaster in the British service and contained gold.”
As Young was plundering the baggage, several of Tarleton’s dragoons suddenly intercepted him.
[I] put spurs to my horse, and made down the road. . . . Three or four dashed through the woods and intercepted me. . . . My pistol was empty, so I drew my sword and made battle. I never fought so hard in my life. . . . In a few minutes, my finger on my left hand was split open; then I received a cut on my sword arm by a parry which disabled it. In the next instant, I took a cut from a saber across my forehead. . . . The skin flipped down over my eyes, and the blood blinded me so that I could see nothing. Then came a thrust on the right shoulder blade, then a cut on the left shoulder, and at last, a cut on the back of my head—I fell upon my horse’s neck.
Severely wounded, Young blacked out, and mercifully, Tarleton’s men took him prisoner. The dragoons then continued their flight south away from Colonel Washington’s pursuing cavalry and Kirkwood’s infantrymen. Despite their casualties, the American foot soldiers set out immediately on a forced march, a feat they repeated several times in the coming months. Although exhausted after marching dozens of miles since the battle, Kirkwood’s men continued picking up British prisoners. Sergeant Major William Seymour related, “[We were] instrumental in taking a great number of prisoners. . . . Very Well pleased With Our day’s Work.”
On the field of battle, the victorious John Eager Howard was holding seven swords belonging to British officers who had personally surrendered to him. Arriving on the scene, General Morgan complimented him, “You have done well for you are successful;
had you failed, I would have shot you.”
Howard quickly retorted, “Had I failed, there would have been no need of shooting me.”
All around them, the Continentals and militiamen were busily looting the prisoners’ knapsacks and personal belongings. The booty was most welcome. One of the participants noted the dismal state of the Flying Army: “Our poor fellows, who were almost naked before, now have several changes of clothes.” The clothing transformed the Patriots. Many now wore British green and scarlet.
Overshadowing the glory, the cries of the wounded and dying echoed across the battlefield. American losses were relatively light, perhaps ten killed and fifty-five wounded. British casualties are hard to ascertain but numbered around one hundred killed and two hundred wounded; all together about seven hundred of Tarleton’s force headed into captivity. The wounded strained the limited medical resources of the Continental Army. Indomitable Maryland surgeon Dr. Richard Pindell was on the scene, triaging life and death. Pindell performed a panoply of field medicine, from bandaging wounds to sawing off limbs too damaged to save. Pindell described the understaffed conditions: “I was left on the field in care of the Wounded, not any Aid or Force Except a Lt. Hanson . . . and our two waiters.” Eventually, working his way through the cries of the wounded and dying, Pindell dressed Marylander Lawrence Everhart’s vicious head injury. Despite Bloody Ban’s reputation for cruelty, he sent his own medical staff to assist Pindell, who cared for the wounded and dying of both sides.
Without even waiting for Kirkwood’s light infantry or Washington’s cavalry to return, Morgan sent the Virginians and their prisoners marching north. The Flying Army took a different route to the northeast, where it eventually linked up with the remainder of Greene’s army, including the bulk of the Marylanders. The American officers knew that Cornwallis, less than fifty miles away, wanted to avenge Tarleton’s loss and rescue the captured men.
Chapter 34
“To Follow Greene’s Army
to the End of the World”
Encamped in the Carolina Backcountry, Charles, Earl Cornwallis stood with his dress sword thrust into the ground, his hand firmly gripping the pommel. He listened intently as Banastre Tarleton recounted the disaster at Cowpens. His attempts to suppress his anger failed as he leaned forward on the blade, snapping it in half.
The earl swore loudly that he would destroy Daniel Morgan and retake Tarleton’s men no matter what the cost.
Cornwallis was obsessed with catching the southern army, and for good reason: if he could destroy Nathanael Greene and Morgan, he would eliminate the major threat in the South and cut the line of supplies coming from Virginia to aid partisans in the Carolinas. Control of the South would largely revert to the Crown.
George Washington and the bulk of the American army, about six thousand poorly clad and badly fed men, remained encamped north of New York City in and around West Point. Capturing New York remained Washington’s obsession, but even if French reinforcements had seized the fortified city, he recognized that the ultimate outcome of battle might be defeat for the Americans. Stalemate reigned, as neither side had enough troops to go on the offensive and break the logjam. However, an American traitor nearly broke the impasse wide open: Major General Benedict Arnold, the true hero of Saratoga.
Short, muscular, and overbearing, the American general was described as an “evil genius” by some of his men. Arnold walked with a limp—his leg should have been amputated at Saratoga, but he refused the surgery and painfully hobbled around for the rest of his life. At Saratoga, General Horatio Gates had initially relieved Arnold of command, but instead of standing down, Arnold guzzled some rum and rode back into battle like a madman, turning the tide at several critical points. British commander John Burgoyne credited Arnold with the victory, but Gates got the glory at home. Next Arnold requested a court-martial to clear his name over accusations that he used his authority in a variety of business schemes to profit from the war. After Arnold was acquitted of all but two minor charges, Washington put him in command of the crucial American defenses at West Point, New York. Festering with his grievances, Arnold contacted the British, and over the course of many months, fed information on American troop positions and defenses to Samuel Smith’s former friend, Major John André, who at the time had been courting the beautiful Peggy Chew, who was also the object of John Eager Howard’s affections. The plot had been exposed, and André had been captured behind the American lines and hanged as a spy. In September 1780 he left his post and boarded the British sloop Vulture, anchored off Stony Point, after word reached him that the plot had been exposed.
Upon learning of Arnold’s treason, Washington moved more troops into the area and shored up the fortress’s defenses, effectively nullifying the threat. But Arnold, paid handsomely with a pile of British cash, a pension, and a commission as brigadier general, remained a thorn in the United States’ side. General Henry Clinton turned him loose in Virginia, accompanied by a force of about sixteen hundred troops. If Arnold could link up with Cornwallis, Clinton hoped the combined army could take and hold Richmond and the significant cities in Virginia.
Humiliated by the defeat at Cowpens, Tarleton offered his resignation until a court-martial inquiry could resolve the matter. But Cornwallis could not afford to lose an officer of Tarleton’s skill and assuaged his pride. “You have forfeited no part of my esteem as an officer by the unfortunate event on the action of the 17th,” he stated.
Although Tarleton had lost his light corps at Cowpens, new reinforcements under the command of Major General Alexander Leslie coincidentally arrived that very day. The reinforcements included the Brigade of the Guards, commanded by one of the most colorful characters of the war, Anglo-Irish Brigadier General Charles O’Hara. O’Hara had served many years in Senegal, where he was lieutenant colonel commandant of the African Corps, which consisted entirely of military convicts, often men found guilty of repeated desertion who were pardoned by the Crown in exchange for lifelong service in Africa. There his features became ruddy and sun-darkened, contrasting with “teeth as white as ever.” His appearance matched his leadership style, and one admirer summed him up as “the most perfect specimen of a soldier and a courtier of a past age.”
Despite his sterling appearance, O’Hara had a checkered past. A gambler and a professional soldier of fortune, he was a notorious debtor.
Like Cornwallis, he was fearless in battle and beloved by his men. They would gladly follow him into hell.
With little baggage, the American army was able to march faster than the British. To keep pace, Cornwallis took a bold and daring gamble: making his entire army a light corps. It was a huge risk that was unheard of for any British commander in the American theater.
The general ordered a huge bonfire. Establishing a precedent for his men to follow, he threw his own personal accoutrements in first, followed by wagons, tents, china, beds, and even the rum. It all went into the pyre, which burned any impediment that would slow the army down.
O’Hara detailed the extreme measures: “Lord Cornwallis sett the example by burning all of his Wagons, and destroying the greatest part of his Baggage, which was followed by every Officer of the Army without a murmur.” Cornwallis’s powerful gesture of shared hardship emboldened and inspired his men.
Unimaginable adversity lay ahead for the British. Greene had hoped to lure Cornwallis away from his base of supply hundreds of miles away in Charleston, South Carolina. Cornwallis was pushing the army to its very limits. O’Hara described the troops: “Without Baggage, necessaries, or Provisions of any sort, for Officer or soldier, in the most barren, inhospitable unhealthy part of North America, opposed by the most savage, inveterate perfidious cruel Enemy, with zeal and with Bayonets only, it was resolved to follow Greene’s Army to the end of the world.”
Cornwallis spent one more day readying his army and ordering each man to have “one pair of spare soles.” Then he set his sights on
Morgan and the prisoners. Tramping across the barren North Carolina countryside, his twenty-five-hundred-man army, now without baggage, was bearing down on Morgan. Wisely, The Old Wagoner had sent the POWs north on a different route with the Virginia militia, keeping them out of Cornwallis’s hands, while he continued moving northeast with the plan of eventually reuniting with Greene.
Cowpens had a dismaying effect on the local population, intimidating the Tories. As word spread of Morgan’s great victory, those supporting the British feared for their lives. Roving bands of American partisans, led by men like Thomas Sumter and Francis Marion, prowled the countryside. The advance of Cornwallis’s army also scattered many Patriot families, as they took to the roads to avoid the British troops. The flight of both Tories and Patriots depopulated the area, and food and forage became scarce. What was left was plundered—by women. “The sources of the most infamous plundering” came from Cornwallis’s female camp followers.
Greene hoped to wear down Cornwallis and perhaps find an optimal time to strike. But at the present, his army was in no condition to face Cornwallis in a stand-up fight. Despite being a northerner, Greene knew the topography better than many of his southern subordinates, and, more important, better than his enemy. A voracious reader and a quick study, Greene thoroughly understood the maps developed by his quartermaster general, Lieutenant Colonel Edward Carrington. Mastering the terrain, he would turn North Carolina’s creeks and rivers against his opponent. In Cornwallis’s obsessive pursuit, Greene also sensed an opportunity. “I am not without hopes of ruining Cornwallis, if he persists in his mad scheme of pushing through the Country,” he said.
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