by John Oller
ALEXANDER STEWART, a forty-year-old Scot with a high opinion of himself, had entered the British army as a teenager and had many more years of military experience than Nathanael Greene. But at Eutaw Springs on the morning of September 8, 1781, he was nearly caught napping. Somehow unaware that Greene’s entire army was only seven miles away, Stewart sent out an unarmed “rooting party” at 5 a.m., before the day’s heat set in, to dig for sweet potatoes for his ill-fed troops. (Stewart would later blame his intelligence failure on the partisans having sealed off all the swamp passageways for his scouts, some of whom betrayed him by joining the rebels.) When a couple of American deserters came into the British camp to say that Greene was marching up from the west along the road from Burdell’s, a disbelieving Stewart had them arrested as spies.
Just in case, Stewart dispatched cavalry commander John Coffin with both horse and foot soldiers to check out the report. When he ran into the American advance a couple of miles west, Coffin impetuously charged and was soon met by a superior force of Lee’s and Henderson’s men. The frightened potato diggers fled; many were taken prisoner. After a brief skirmish in which a number of Coffin’s men were killed or captured, Coffin and the rest escaped and went back to alert Stewart to Greene’s approach. Stewart sent some skirmishers ahead to slow the American advance, but they were quickly driven back by Lee’s forward group with the help of two American field pieces brought up to reinforce him. During this skirmish the two main bodies of army formed and by 9 a.m. were ready to do battle.
Greene deployed his troops using a variation of the by-then-familiar Cowpens model, with the militia and state troops up front, the Continentals in a line behind them, and the cavalry on the flanks and in reserve. The soldiers set up in lines running north to south, directly facing the enemy to the east. The first patriot line, dismounted infantry, consisted of Pickens’s South Carolina militia and Henderson’s state troops on the left (north), Malmedy’s North Carolinians in the middle, and Marion on the right, just south of the main River Road that ran east-west. As the senior officer, Marion had overall command of the entire militia force and would have decided on the configuration of the militia front line. To command the right of his own brigade, he chose Richard Richardson Jr., now a colonel, who a year earlier had risked his life to warn Marion of the trap Tarleton set for him at Richardson’s Plantation.
The Battle of Eutaw Springs, September 8, 1781
The second American line comprised Continental infantry from Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, in that order, from left to right (north to south). The Marylanders and Virginians were battle-hardened veterans of such places as Camden, Cowpens, Guilford Courthouse, and Hobkirk’s Hill. The North Carolina Continentals, by contrast, had only recently been re-formed and were untested in actual combat. They were led by Brigadier General Jethro Sumner, a dedicated and capable Continental commander who had been a wealthy tavern owner before joining the service.
In the third line were William Washington’s eighty to one hundred Continental cavalrymen. Alongside them were sixty to eighty experienced Delaware Continental light infantry under Captain Robert Kirkwood, who had fought many northern battles under George Washington and had distinguished himself at the Battle of Cowpens.
Lee’s Legion, including both mounted and foot soldiers, was posted off to Marion’s right, protecting the far right flank of the front line. Guarding the extreme left flank was Henderson’s South Carolina state cavalry, under the immediate command of Wade Hampton. Maham and his state dragoons apparently were present; Peter Horry, still at Georgetown and trying without much success to raise a cavalry regiment, was absent.
Greene also had four cannons—two three-pounders and two six-pounders—that were placed in the middle of the front and center lines, respectively.
Stewart’s army was all British redcoats and loyalist provincials; no militia or Hessians fought with him that day. He posted a single main line of defense about three hundred yards west of the edge of the cleared crop field where the British were camped. Many of the British regulars were familiar to the Americans. Holding down Stewarts’s left were remnants of the 63rd and 64th Regiments of Foot, who had served the entire war, first in the North and then variously under Wemyss, Tarleton, McLeroth, and Watson in their attempts to eliminate Marion. Here they looked directly across at their old adversary as he readied his militia on the patriot right.
On the British right were regulars of Stewart’s own 3rd Regiment of Foot, the Buffs (named for the yellow-brown color of their decorative uniform coverings). Although they had arrived in the colonies just three months earlier, these mostly Irish soldiers were among the best trained in the British army.
In the center of Stewart’s line were loyalist units from New York and New Jersey, including DeLancey’s New York Brigade under John Harris Cruger, the defender of Ninety-Six during Greene’s siege. (Cruger was married to a DeLancey, a prominent Tory family of New York Huguenots.) Although Cruger was not a British regular, Stewart put him in overall charge of the front line, making him Marion’s counterpart that day.
Like the Americans, the British covered their flanks with soldiers of the highest order. The left was supported by the South Carolina Royalists—Thomas Fraser’s loyalist cavalry unit, under the command of Major John Coffin. (Fraser, injured at Parker’s Ferry, was absent.) The far right (north) was held down by Major John Marjoribanks (pronounced Marshbanks), who commanded flank companies of the 3rd, 19th, and 30th Regiments of Foot, recently arrived from Cork, Ireland, but eager for battle. They consisted of light infantry and elite assault forces of grenadiers (still called that, though they wielded no grenades). Marjoribanks’s units would play a pivotal role on this day.
Stewart had four or five large artillery pieces at his disposal—at least two, possibly three six-pounders, plus a four-pounder. He also had some small, portable swivel guns that allowed a wide arc of movement.
Probably no two opposing armies in any large-scale engagement during the southern phase of the war were as evenly matched as these. Greene had perhaps a few hundred more men available for battle than Stewart did, partly because Stewart’s original force of around two thousand was missing most or all of his rooting party, which had numbered anywhere from sixty to three hundred. Stewart was blessed with more experienced soldiers overall, but the bulk of the American force did not lack for seasoning. Several outstanding subordinate commanders led both sides. The British had more artillery power, but thanks to Marion’s drubbing of Fraser’s cavalry at Parker’s Ferry the week before, Greene had a decided advantage in the number of mounted soldiers. Cavalry were of limited utility on the lightly wooded, brushy terrain, but they could play an important role in augmenting an assault or cutting off a retreat.
The biggest question mark was how the American militia, a third of Greene’s total force, would perform. This was the first large pitched battle that Marion’s irregulars were fighting under him. Other patriot militia had a spotty track record in such battles; under Gates at Camden they had cut and run, tossing aside their muskets the moment they saw the British bayonets charging at them. They had done surprisingly well at Cowpens, where Morgan asked only that they deliver two or three volleys before withdrawing. Guilford Courthouse, where Greene commanded, had been more of a mixed bag. How would they do under Marion on this day?
MARION’S SEVEN HUNDRED militiamen were the first to march forward through the open woods, squinting at the east-risen sun as it shone through the trees. Soon they would be fighting under sweltering, throat-parching conditions that had men feeling as if they might die from thirst if not from a sword or musket ball.
The British front line was about 150 yards away. When they came within firing range Marion’s brigade on the right fired the first shots, followed down the line by Malmedy’s North Carolinians and Pickens’s troops. Shouting encouragement to each other as they surged forward, Marion’s troops continued to fire volley after volley—an average of seventeen per man, he later estimated, an un
heard of performance by patriot militia. It was a testament to their trust in Marion—and Pickens’s men in their own leader—that the South Carolina militia kept pressing forward like veterans in the face of deadly fire.
Malmedy’s North Carolinians were less disciplined. Never having fought under their French commander, they withdrew after three rounds, creating a hole in the middle of the line. Fortunately Sumner’s North Carolina Continentals rushed up from the second line to plug the gap and protect Marion’s left flank, allowing him to keep advancing with his comrades. But Sumner’s Continentals eventually broke as well, and the militia’s progress stalled.
After emerging from the protection of the woods into more open land, Marion’s men became vulnerable to the British bayonets. Seeing an opportunity, the veterans of the British 63rd and 64th on the left excitedly charged the Americans with cold steel, forcing Marion to call a retreat. But when the redcoats pushed on with their counterattack, they ran headlong into the well-formed Maryland and Virginia Continentals from Greene’s second line. The Americans gave the British a taste of their own medicine, firing a volley and then surging forward with bayonets. The 63rd and 64th ran in disorder back to their camp—the first and only time during the entire war in which those seasoned units made a full retreat with their backs to an American bayonet charge.
On the British right Lieutenant Colonel John Eager Howard’s Marylanders broke the ranks of Stewart’s Buffs in a clash of steel so close that some of the dead were found stuck in each other’s bayonets. The Buffs, new to battle, fought with determination but retreated along with their more experienced colleagues. They left ankle-deep puddles of blood behind.
The British front line had collapsed. As part of the rout, the loyalists in the British middle also gave way and, in accordance with Stewart’s contingency plan, took shelter in the brick house beyond the camp. Pursued by Lee’s Legion infantry, who had flanked the British left, the provincial New York Volunteers barely managed to bar the door before the Americans could barge in on them.
During the British skedaddle, Marion set about to re-form his own brigade on the right. Meanwhile, on the American left, Henderson’s South Carolinians were being pummeled on their flank by Marjoribanks’s light infantry and grenadiers, the only British contingent that had held its ground. Henderson himself fell wounded, after which his command passed to Wade Hampton, who managed to steady the state troops.
With Marjoribanks now threatening the Marylanders’ left flank, Greene ordered Washington’s cavalry to drive him off. But Washington could not penetrate the scrubby thicket where Marjoribanks’s men were posted with their backs to Eutaw Creek. In rashly trying to circle around them, Washington and his riders were exposed to dangerous fire, and all but two of his officers were killed or wounded. Washington fell under his dead horse and was bayoneted and taken prisoner. Hampton charged the British flank with his dragoons but was no more successful. Finally Kirkwood’s Delaware Continentals, perhaps the cream of the American army, came up from their position in reserve and dislodged Marjoribanks, who withdrew in good order to a more secure position in the walled garden beside the mansion.
By now Stewart had retreated all the way through his camp, abandoning his tents and artillery to the pursuing Americans. Some of the British soldiers fled down the road toward Charleston. As Greene’s army overran the enemy camp, the Americans appeared on the verge of a glorious victory. And then it began to unravel.
Greene’s soldiers had been given swigs of rum before the battle to energize them, but when they came upon the British liquor barrels they could not resist getting into them to quench their thirst—and then some. They helped themselves to rum and other spoils. Although the officers (dwindling in number due to casualties) tried to stop the looting, the soldiers (mostly Virginia and Maryland Continentals) kept celebrating with food and spirits. As Maryland Continental commander Otho Williams wrote, the men became “utterly unmanageable.”
Stewart in the meantime was busy re-forming his line in a diagonal running southeast just beyond the camp. Marjoribanks anchored the right from the garden while sharpshooters took up position from the windows of the mansion stronghold. Soon they began raining lethal gunshot on the drunk and disorderly Americans in the adjacent field as well as the artillerists who had brought up the Americans’ heavy cannon. Marion was sent forward to assist, but his force and firepower were insufficient to stem the tide.
It was again Stewart’s turn to counterattack. Marjoribanks assaulted the American left flank, and Coffin’s cavalry, only defensively engaged to that point, swooped down upon the American right. Lee’s cavalry, scattered over various parts of the battlefield, could not parry Coffin’s assault. Lee himself was absent from his cavalry post at that critical moment, as he had been for much of the contest, preferring instead to roam about the field directing other units (for which he would be criticized afterward).a
It was left to Wade Hampton, who seemingly was everywhere that day, to cover the American retreat. Through sheer tenacity he managed to push Coffin back in hand-to-hand fighting but had to withdraw under heavy fire from the loyalists in the house and Marjoribanks in the garden. Marjoribanks then swept through the British camp and not only recovered two six-pounders left behind by Stewart but also captured the Americans’ two six-pounders, abandoned during the flight of the intoxicated. With both of Greene’s three-pounders having been put out of action earlier in the battle, he had no ability to batter the sturdy brick mansion.
After nearly four hours of fighting, Greene had little choice but to call a general retreat. He paused to collect his dead, then went in search of desperately needed fresh water for his men. With the enemy controlling access to the creek and springs, he withdrew several miles to Burdell’s Tavern, where his soldiers came upon a filthy pond that the cavalry had tramped through earlier in the day. As William Dobein James later recorded, the men dove headlong into the puddle, over the shoulders of each other, and drank “with an avidity which seemed insatiable.”
Greene called the Battle of Eutaw Springs “by far the most bloody and obstinate I ever saw.” The casualties on both sides were frighteningly high. Officially Greene lost a quarter and Stewart at least a third of their respective forces, although both counts are probably understated. Some estimates place Stewart’s killed, wounded, missing, or captured at just over 40 percent of his total, making it the greatest percentage loss of any field army during the war.
The Americans had an unusually high number of ranking officers killed or wounded—almost sixty. In addition to Henderson and William Washington, Pickens was put out of commission by a musket ball to the chest that would have been fatal but for it striking the buckle of his sword belt. While discussing tactics with Lee, Lieutenant Colonel Richard Campbell, commander of the Virginia Continentals, fell wordless in his saddle from an enemy shot and died shortly thereafter. John Eager Howard, a heroic performer at many a previous southern battle, especially Cowpens, was speared by a bayonet but would live to become a governor and US senator from Maryland.
On the British side Stewart reported twenty-nine commissioned officers killed, wounded, or missing, but he failed to account for those who were among the several hundred British taken prisoners. Stewart was wounded on the elbow, although not severely, and had his horse shot in two places. The greatest loss was Major Marjoribanks, who more than anyone was responsible for snatching victory from the patriot grasp. Wounded while leading the final counterattack upon the Americans, he was taken on the British army’s march toward Charleston and, after developing a severe fever, was left at the plantation of Huguenot patriot Daniel Ravenel, located a few miles above Biggin Church. Cared for in a slave hut, Marjoribanks died and was buried at Ravenel’s Wantoot Plantation six weeks later. Before his gravesite was to be inundated by Lake Marion in the 1940s, he was reinterred on the battlefield at Eutaw Springs, to sleep forever near the garden spot from which he had so valiantly fought.
Marion’s brigade was also hard hit that d
ay. Marion listed five killed—two of them officers—and twenty-six wounded. Among the latter was Hugh Horry, who was wounded in the fleshy part of his leg. Private Jehu Kolb took a ball in the knee and was disabled for life. He was from a long line of military men: his father had been killed in the Cherokee campaign of 1759, fighting alongside Francis Marion, and his relative, militia colonel Abel Kolb, was the famous murder victim of vengeful Tories.
A further indication of the fierceness of the fighting comes from the pension application of Jim Capers, a free black man and former slave who long served as a drum major under Marion. Capers was wounded in four different places—once on the head and twice in the face with a sword and then once with a shot through the body that passed into the drummer behind him, killing the man instantly. A cook for Marion, James Delaney, was among those wounded that day. One of the Snow’s Island Jenkins clan who served under Marion was killed, and when his cousin, James Jenkins, visited the battlefield later, he counted thirteen bullet holes in a small tree that stood between the two armies.
Even Greene was impressed with the militia’s comportment that day, later commenting that they fought with “a degree of firmness that reflects the highest honor upon this class of soldiers.” In typically understated fashion, Marion reported to Peter Horry that “my Brigade behaved well.” Congress agreed and awarded Marion special thanks for the “distinguished part” he took at Eutaw Springs as well as for his “prudent and intrepid attack” on the British at Parker’s Ferry the month before.
AS FOR WHICH side “won” at Eutaw Springs, that question would generate disagreement both in the days that followed and in years to come. Both commanding generals claimed an unequivocal victory. Stewart’s contention rested on his having “held” the field at the end. But in reality he had been driven from the field to take refuge in and around the brick house from which place the Americans were repulsed, leaving neither side in total control of the battleground proper. Greene reported that he left behind a strong picket under Wade Hampton to watch the field when the main army went in search of water, and although Stewart heatedly denied this, he did not claim to have pursued the retreating Americans. Tactically the battle was more like a draw.