The Glorious Cause (66 page)

F
EBRUARY 1781

They continued northward, led by the word from Tarleton’s scouts, who pushed out ahead of the column, probing the roads for the direction of the enemy. They captured the usual rebel stragglers, who brought news Cornwallis had not expected. Greene himself had apparently left the main body of his army, had ridden across country to join Morgan’s retreat. It was curious news to his officers, but Cornwallis understood. Greene appreciated the gravity of Morgan’s position. If Cornwallis himself was in pursuit, Greene would take charge of the men being pursued.

At each river crossing Cornwallis was forced to halt the army in a maddening routine, stopping the march while scouts sought out a shallow crossing. Every few days the rains would come, and the men had no choice but to huddle in soaking misery as they waited for the clouds to clear, and then for the river levels to drop. It was more frustrating because Greene was not so disadvantaged, and Cornwallis was beginning to appreciate the man’s tactic. Along many of the roads, he had seen the tracks of the rebels punctuated by narrow ruts in the mud. He assumed it was cannon. But soon the scouts brought him the word: The rebels were actually transporting their own boats, rolled along on makeshift axles. To add to the rebel advantage, Greene had sent men ahead to secure more boats, small fleets of craft that ferried their men safely and quickly across each river. Cornwallis had no such luxury, could only march his men along the water’s edge until a crossing was found. Some were hazardous still, men pushing chest deep through swift currents, while on the far side, militia would wait in the trees, along the banks, to harass and pick at the helpless men with deadly musket fire.

After each crossing he expected Greene to make a stand, that finally the rebels would have had their fill of the unending retreat. But Greene pushed on, and when the rebels reached Guilford Court House, the two wings of Greene’s army united. But even then, Greene did not stop, drove his men northward, and Cornwallis knew now that the rebels intended to march all the way to Virginia. Cornwallis could only continue the pursuit because he had no good alternative. He pushed the column toward the last barrier out of North Carolina, the Dan River, thought, Surely, now we will find him. But Greene had planned well, and the Dan was no different than the rivers before. There were boats as well, and merely twelve hours before Cornwallis reached the Dan, the last of Greene’s army was landed on the northern banks, safely across the river.

As Cornwallis stood on the banks of the Dan staring into Virginia, it was a miserable reminder of Trenton, the enemy escaping him beyond the Delaware River. He was as exhausted as his men, took no comfort from the thought that Greene would be worn-out as well.

It was called a victory for the British and would cause celebration in London, would garner congratulations from Clinton and Germain. For the first time since the start of the war, not one continental soldier stood on Carolina soil. But Cornwallis did not celebrate. For now he truly understood Greene’s plan. Cornwallis’ army was barely two thousand strong, the men brutally punished by the extraordinary march. Their grand parade uniforms were as ragged as the clothes of the rebels, their newly soled shoes worn away again, their horses emaciated and sick. And, worse, the soldiers were starving. Greene had surrendered the Carolinas, and in the process had nearly destroyed Cornwallis’ army.

51. GREENE

F
EBRUARY 1781

He had not intended to retreat as far as Virginia. All along the extraordinary march, he had sent letters to von Steuben, requesting that the Prussian send down the new recruits he had raised in northern Virginia. But von Steuben had a crisis of his own, a considerable surprise in the person of General Benedict Arnold, now a brigadier in service to King George. Arnold commanded a force of twelve hundred men who had landed at Yorktown. Soon they had pushed hard up the Virginia peninsula, causing panic in Richmond. The influence of Thomas Jefferson had forced von Steuben to keep his recruits close at hand. Even if von Steuben had more men than he might require, the Virginia recruits had little interest in marching south to join a distant fight in the Carolinas when the danger to their own homes was so immediate.

With his men safely on the north banks of the Dan River, Greene began to deal with the miserable condition of his troops. Clothing was scarce, the men marching in rags, much as Greene had seen throughout the campaigns in New Jersey. Shoes were scarcer still, and most of the continental regulars were once again barefoot.

For all the difficulties he faced, the one most personal to Greene was the failing health of the man who was the most capable subordinate in his command.

I cannot replace you, Daniel.”

“That’s probably so, Nat. But beggin’ won’t help. I can’t do this, not anymore. It near kills me just to climb on my horse.”

Greene sat slumped in his small camp chair, could see Morgan twisted slightly, the man’s broad shoulders curled forward. Even hunched over, Morgan seemed to fill the tent. Greene saw the man’s face clamped tight, no sign of the mischievous smile, could see sweat on the man’s brow.

“You’re hurting. You have some spirits?”

Morgan shook his head.

“Won’t matter. Can’t climb my horse drunk or sober. And it’s a long ride. Probably better I can see straight. Don’t need to be falling off my saddle.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Nat. I’m going home.”

There was already talk in the camp, an unkind slap at Morgan from officers who felt his antics and oversize reputation had pushed some of the more deserving of them out of their rightful place in the sun. All of his reasons for refusing to serve Gates were magnified now, as though the big man was some sort of whining brat, who either got his way or went home crying. The new rumors were that Morgan didn’t care for Greene’s tactics, would have preferred to stand and fight Cornwallis at any point during the retreat. As a result, Morgan was now going to sulk his way back to the Shenandoah Valley.

Morgan had ignored the talk, seemed to appreciate that Greene did as well.

“Nat, what you proposin’ to do? You need more people.”

“Pickens should return soon. I still expect militia from up north. General Smallwood sent word, he’s sending some new recruits to add to the Maryland line.”

“That’s not the people I’m talking about, Nat. You need veterans. Cornwallis may be beat to hell over there, but he’s still got the flower of his army. The more time you give him to rest up, the stronger he gets.”

“I don’t intend to give him time, Daniel. I’m sending the cavalry down, Washington’s men, Harry Lee’s Legion. They’ll keep an eye on him, keep Tarleton from running roughshod along the river. Cornwallis has pulled back to Hillsboro, waiting to see what we’re going to do. We won’t keep him waiting much longer.”

Morgan tried to sit up straight, grimaced, leaned to one side.

“I wish I could stay with you, Nat. I’m no good to this army now. This has been comin’ on for a while. It was just a damned nuisance, but now . . . well, hell, I’m not going to cry to you. You ain’t my mama. If I could ride, I’d ride. If I could fight, I’d fight.”

“Go, rest up. Maybe you’ll be back yet.”

“Don’t think so, Nat. I’m crippled up. This ain’t something that’s just gonna go away.”

There was a silent pause, and Morgan said, “You think you can beat him?”

“Cornwallis? I don’t think we have to, Daniel. All we have to do is hurt him once or twice. He’s too far from Charleston, and he has the same problem we have: He can’t get ammunition. That’s why I need people, Daniel. I need to hold him as long as I can. He’s a very long way from his outposts in South Carolina. He can’t refit, and he has no close base of supply. The one thing I cannot do is risk destroying this army. Another reason I need the reinforcements. The only way Cornwallis succeeds is if he annihilates us. I don’t intend to let that happen.”

“Pick your ground, Nat. Make use of the militia. But don’t depend on them.” Morgan paused, shook his head. “You don’t need my pea-brained counsel. You’ve had the best teacher a soldier can have. If I see George before you do, I’ll let him know how his student turned out. Not bad for a book-learned Rhode Islander.”

Morgan stood slowly, and Greene could see hard pain on the man’s face. Morgan raised one arm, a slow stretch, put his hand against the canvas above him.

“When I get home, I’ll see what I can do to round up some cloth. Half this army’s runnin’ around naked.”

Greene smiled.

“I’ve given that some thought. Could be to our advantage. Imagine an attack led by a line of naked men. Would strike certain fear in the hearts of the enemy.”

Morgan managed a small laugh.

“I don’t think the commanding general would approve. Unless, of course, it worked.” Morgan turned away now, moved to the opening in the tent, stopped.

“I ain’t much for sentiment, Nat. You got some good men here. Hope you make the best use of ’em. God help me, if I could fight with you, I would.”

G
UILFORD
C
OURT
H
OUSE,
N
ORTH
C
AROLINA,
M
ARCH 15, 1781

Toward the end of February, Greene ordered his army to recross the Dan River and advance carefully along the roads where Cornwallis had withdrawn. The British did not wait quietly, Cornwallis throwing Tarleton forward in strike after strike, to find some way to maneuver Greene into the fight the British wanted. Though Greene knew he had to prevent the British troops from recovering from the damaging march, he was not yet prepared to offer a fight of his own. He felt his army was still too small. He could only hope to keep the British on the move by teasing them with the threat of an engagement. Cornwallis responded in the only way he could, seeking a confrontation with as much energy as Greene used to prevent one. After nearly three weeks, Greene’s careful dance around the guns of the British accomplished what he’d hoped it would. The reinforcements finally began to arrive.

Greene expected to hear a great deal of Banastre Tarleton, the one man Cornwallis would rely on to seek the vulnerability in Greene’s position. But Tarleton’s effectiveness had been countered by the good work of William Washington and Harry Lee, sharp duels and crisp clashes, a violent chess game by the horsemen that allowed Greene the necessary time to gather his army. He had time as well to find the one piece of ground that would offer the best advantage for a good fight.

So much of the land close to the Virginia line was dense woods, no place for either army to make a stand. But on the long retreat, Greene had passed through Guilford Court House, where a patchwork of farms and open fields divided the forests. As his cavalry continued to clash swords with Tarleton, Greene moved his army back to Guilford. Finally, he was prepared for a fight. He summoned the horsemen to Guilford, placed them as Morgan had done at Cowpens, behind the flanks of his army.

Greene had his numbers, over four thousand men now spread in lines west of the small town. He had his good ground, the wide ridges, open fields surrounded by stands of trees. He could only wait for his invitation to be answered, for the enemy to understand that if they wanted a fight, they would have to march to Guilford. Cornwallis did not disappoint him.

Morgan’s troops were now commanded by Colonel Otho Williams, a brilliant young Marylander. Williams had been with the Maryland regiments since Boston, had been seriously wounded and captured at Fort Washington. Later exchanged for a British prisoner, Williams was one of the few bright spots in Horatio Gates’ disaster at Camden. Greene believed he was capable of taking the reins from Daniel Morgan. Greene’s other senior commander was a brigadier, Isaac Huger, who had once commanded the militia in Georgia and South Carolina. Huger’s family was prominent in South Carolina, but Greene had come to rely on the man for more than his recruitment value. After Cowpens, when Greene had left the main body of the army to travel northward with Morgan, Huger had been left behind to command the retreat. He had executed his assignment with the same dexterity and skill as Greene would have done himself. Once the two wings of the army had reunited, Greene knew that Huger was more than some aristocratic product of plantation wealth. He was a capable leader of troops.

The stars had been swept away by a clear icy dawn, the grassy fields touched by a soft white blanket of frost. Greene had ridden forward, down along the edge of a wide deep valley, thick with tall trees. The road out of Guilford continued westward and Greene moved out into the center, stopped, held up his hand, his staff halting as well. They kept silent, listened for the sounds of some kind of fight, some sign that Cornwallis was close. He stared down the road into the dull light of the silent forest, said, “Difficult to hear anything here. The trees will mask the sounds.” He looked to his staff, said, “Major, send a rider. He should find Colonel Lee on this road. If the enemy is advancing, it is likely that Colonel Lee will be engaged. I must know his disposition.”

The order went out, and a horseman was past him now, dropping off down the steep hill, the man’s hoofbeats quickly muffled by the terrain. Greene glanced at his pocketwatch,
eight-thirty,
stabbed the watch back into his coat. He turned the horse, looked back up the long rise. He had hoped to see the courthouse itself, the small buildings of the town. But the view was blocked by a thick mass of trees. That will make it difficult, he thought. The officers will have to manage their own part of the fight.

The road climbed up through a long open field, black earth flecked with the remains of cornstalks. Out in the center of the field, a ragged fence intersected the road, and behind the fence, the first line of militia stood ready.

He had taken Morgan’s experience to heart, the extraordinary strategy that had worked so well at the Cowpens. The first line would be the men from North Carolina, nearly a thousand nervous militia, most of whom had never seen their enemy. The fence would give them blessed protection, split rails stacked in a snaking line. It was Morgan’s lesson, to put the least reliable men in a place where they had little to do but make a show. Greene stood now where the enemy should first appear, and he guessed, four hundred yards to the fence, perhaps more. The open ground in front of them would offer ample opportunity for several clean volleys, and once the British had moved close, the militia knew to withdraw. The militia were protected on their right flank by William Washington’s cavalry, and companies of veteran marksmen, most of the men hidden in the woods that lined the cornfield. Once Harry Lee returned, his horsemen would take up position on the left flank, more protection, and a perfect position to enfilade the British advance.

Behind the North Carolinians, the woods engulfed the road, and here Greene had placed the Virginia militia, another thousand men, huddled now in the protection of the trees. Behind them, another open field led to the town itself, where Greene had placed his most seasoned troops, two regiments of Virginia Regulars under Huger, and two regiments of Marylanders under Otho Williams. If the British advance reached the third line, they would confront the finest soldiers Greene had on the field.

He pointed up the rise, said, “We will take up our position behind the regulars. Until we hear from Colonel Lee, we have no alternative but to wait.”

He heard hoofbeats, looked back down the draw, saw riders rounding a distant curve. They climbed the hill, were clear of the tree-sheltered road. He could see now, it was Harry Lee.

Lee reined up, saluted him, his horse blowing clouds of hot breath, still jostling the young man about. Lee pulled hard on the reins, said, “Whoa, easy there! Sir, I’m surprised to see you here! You intend to start this fight yourself?”

Lee’s joviality was always infectious, but Greene was not in the mood for pleasantries. He looked past Lee, stared down the road, could see the rest of the horsemen in column, moving quickly up the hill.

“You have a report, Colonel?”

“Indeed, sir. Right down thataway is a whole flock of redcoats. A few greencoats too. We had a little confrontation with Tarleton’s boys. Did like you said, held them up a bit, made sure they knew what direction we wanted them to go. As I said, sir, unless you plan to take your place on the skirmish line, I’d be moving on back. Should I send my men out to the left flank, sir? I see the militia boys are set.”

Greene stared down into the woods, moved his horse a few steps forward, listened. Lee’s horsemen were moving past him now, and Greene said, “Yes, proceed to the left flank, Colonel. Dismount your men, put your best marksmen in front.”

Lee gave the order, his officers now leading the way. Lee moved up beside Greene, and, after a long moment, the woods seemed to pulse with a low sound. Gradually the sounds grew louder, and Lee said, “Their drummers are in fine form today, sir.” Lee pointed down into the woods, and around the far curve riders appeared, men with green coats, a flag, the drums rattling a sharp rhythm up the hill.