The Glorious Cause, page 59
Morgan seemed to live up to Cornwallis’s expectations on February 4 by beginning a march northward. But then in a sudden turn he moved rapidly eastward to Guilford Court House, a distance of forty-seven miles covered in two days. There he met Huger and the main American army which had been diverted from Salisbury on Greene’s order. At just about the same time Lee’s Legion rode in. Greene once more had his army in one piece.
A few weeks earlier Greene had told Morgan that while retreat was disagreeable it was not disgraceful. He now seems to have concluded that it was so disagreeable that it must stop. Cornwallis had not drawn his admiration; Cornwallis was of a pushing disposition, inclined, like his subordinate Tarleton, to impetuous action. And impetuous action might lead to capital misfortune, Greene thought. A council consisting of Otho Williams, Huger, and a tired and sick Morgan did not agree, and when asked by Greene didn’t they all think it was time to stop running and start fighting, they all said no. The council was undoubtedly right, for the troops were tired, badly clothed and equipped, and just barely outnumbered the enemy, a much better disciplined army.36
The decision made to continue to run, Greene proceeded to run. The run, however, was now more dangerous than ever, for no river separated Cornwallis at Salem and Greene at Guilford Court House, twenty-five miles apart. Deception is as helpful as speed in such a situation, and Greene resolved to trick Cornwallis into thinking that he would cross the Dan at the upper reaches of the river. He therefore detached Otho Williams with the best infantry and cavalry of his army, 700 men, to lead Cornwallis away from Irwin’s Ferry where the resourceful Carrington had gathered boats to float his men across.
Williams, one of the underrated officers in the American army, performed his assignment brilliantly. Cornwallis took the bait, assuming that Williams’s force was the van of the main army. The chase proved exciting and exhausting; for four days Tarleton and O’Hara nipped at the rear guard provided by Lee’s Legion. The roads, half frozen at night, made muddy and rough in the day from rain and thaws, and cut up by refugees who were fleeing the British as they had over much of North Carolina, exacted a toll from shoes. Before it was over, Williams’s men were leaving bloody tracks on the ground. Greene’s route displayed the same marks. On February 13, Greene made it to the Dan, and just behind him Otho Williams. Both crossed safely. Cornwallis’s army stood on the opposite bank gazing once again at a crossing for which they had no boats.
Why did Cornwallis give up the pursuit? He might after all have repeated the whole dreary business, marching to the upper Dan where there were passable fords. A combination of circumstances seems to have prevented him from resuming the chase: he was over 200 miles from Camden where he had left supplies and men with Rawdon; he recognized that there was no clear way to force Greene to give battle; his men were tired, footsore, often hungry, and the people of the countryside had not overwhelmed them by the warmth of their welcome. Then there was the possibility—a strong one—that if he pushed Greene deep into Virginia, he pushed him into strength. Steuben was in Virginia, and he had been filling Continental battalions.
Remaining where he was on the Dan promised nothing, so Cornwallis slowly led his army to Hillsboro, where on February 20, he issued a proclamation inviting loyal Americans, with their weapons and a ten-day supply of provisions, to join him in the great task of restoring constitutional order. A copy of the proclamation made its way over the Dan immediately. Shortly after, Greene received reports that Cornwallis’s appeal had drawn a very favorable response, with so many loyalists flocking to the British colors that seven independent companies had been formed in one day.
The proclamation actually produced few recruits. As Charles O’Hara, one of Cornwallis’s brigadiers, observed, the chase of Greene brought “some eclat and credit to our arms.” A few people in the neighborhood turned up “to stare at us” but, “their curiosity once satisfied,” went home. During the long hard days of the pursuit the British had not had a hundred loyalists with them. Greene, however, believed the exaggerated reports and, with a vision of the Carolinas returning to the British fold dancing in his head, felt compelled to do something to dampen enthusiasm for the king. He therefore sent his army back across the Dan, first Otho Williams with the light corps, and on February 23 the main army augmented by 600 fresh Virginia militia.37
Cornwallis responded four days later by moving to the southern side of Alamance Creek, to a junction of roads linking Hillsboro to the east and Guilford and Salisbury to the west. Over the next two weeks each side maneuvered carefully, staying near the Alamance and tributaries of the Haw River. They fought several skirmishes but no heavy actions though Cornwallis desperately yearned for a major battle. While the American army moved, it grew as Steuben and Virginia sent 400 Continentals and 1693 militia, who were pledged to serve for only six weeks. North Carolina sent two brigades of militia, 1060 men in all. His army significantly larger than the British, Greene now felt strong enough for a battle, and on March 14, he marched to Guilford Court House. He would fight on ground of his own choosing.38
Guilford Court House sat on the edge of a small village clustered on a hill. Below the court house looking to the southwest a valley unfolded cut by the Great Road, a rough track from Salisbury. Although the high ground around the court house was cleared, most of the valley was wooded. The enemy coming along the road would have to enter through a defile formed by two low hills. There, at the opening of the valley, the ground on either side of the road had been cleared for the cultivation of corn. On the east side there were two fields, one abutting the road, separated from one another by woods 200 yards wide. The valley sank gradually from the defile to Little Horsepen Creek for a distance of one-fourth mile and then rose again for another fourth to the edge of a wood.39
The ground was Greene’s; the tactics were Daniel Morgan’s. Greene like Morgan at Cowpens resolved to use a defense that had depth, a defense of three lines. The first that Cornwallis’s troops would hit was stretched out along the edge of the woods north of the open fields. To reach it the British would have to go down into the valley and then climb up slopes exposed to American fire. To give that fire Greene deployed the North Carolina militia, 1000 in number, on both sides of the road. He anchored their right flank with 200 Virginia riflemen and 110 Delaware Continentals; Colonel William Washington’s cavalry, probably about eighty horse, backed them. On the far left he placed about 200 Virginia riflemen and 150 of Henry Lee’s Legion, about half of whom were cavalry, the others infantry. All Greene asked of this line was that it deliver two volleys before retiring. At its center on the road he set up two six-pounders, guns with a range of 600 to 800 yards.40
Three hundred yards behind, he set up a second line, two brigades, 600 men each of Virginia militia under Brig. Generals Edward Stevens and Robert Lawson. Historians of the battle do not agree on the relative alignments of these two, but Stevens’s men seem to have been on the right (or west) side of the road. The entire line was in the woods.
The third and main line occupied the high open ground just below the court house. It was entirely to the right of the road which swung slightly northeastward as it came up the hill. Because of the configuration of the ground this line was at a slight angle to the second and between 500 and 600 yards behind it. General Huger commanded the right side composed of almost 800 Virginia Continentals, and Otho Williams, the left, of a little more than 600 Maryland Continentals.
The British began the twelve-mile march to Guilford in the darkness of early morning. They had not eaten, having run out of flour the day before. Cornwallis posted Tarleton several miles ahead, and about 10:00 A.M. Tarleton’s horsemen collided with Lee’s, who had been sent out to give Greene warning of the enemy’s approach. Several riders were wounded on each side in this short encounter, and Tarleton took a prisoner or two. The captives were unable to tell Cornwallis anything about American dispositions, however, and when he entered the valley leading to Guilford he was ignorant of what was ahead. He had been over the ground before, of course, but seems not to have remembered much about it.41
The six-pounders with the first line opened up on his troops as they passed into the valley. The British artillery soon came forward to answer, and Cornwallis formed his line. On his right, under Leslie, he placed the regiment of Bose, the 71st, and the First Battalion of Guards in support; on the left of the road, under Webster, he assigned the 23rd and 33rd Regiments supported by grenadiers and the Second Battalion of Guards under O’Hara in support. The jaegers and the light infantry of the guards remained as a reserve in the woods to the left, and Tarleton also in reserve took the road. Altogether the army numbered about 1900 men.42
The North Carolinians standing behind a rail fence at the skirt of the woods watched the regulars march forward to pounding drums and squealing fifes. The British right started first, following Leslie’s commands. After looking the valley over, Cornwallis had decided to begin action on the right because the trees and brush were not as dense there as on the left. The North Carolinian commander facing the British right waited while the enemy marched down the slope, crossed the creek, and moved up the hill. At 150 yards he ordered his men to fire. The Carolinians’s rifles killed at that range, and the British line immediately showed great holes. An observer commented that the row of redcoats “looked like the scattering stalks in a wheat field, when the harvest man has passed over it with his cradle.” A captain in the 71st gave a flat description of the sight which is even more telling of the loss of life—”one-half of the Highlanders dropped on that spot.” Only superbly disciplined and proud troops would have come on without wavering. Leslie ordered the pace to be picked up, and when the line got within what he considered effective range he stopped it and gave the command to present and fire. The Highlanders, again on order, then shouted and ran toward the Carolinians with muskets, bayonets attached, thrust forward. The Carolinians seem to have panicked at the sight. Henry Lee who was on the American left with his legion later wrote that in their eagerness to escape, they dropped their rifles, threw off knapsacks, and even discarded their canteens. Lee tried to hold them in place, even threatened to shoot them if they did not remain, but the Carolinians heard only Highlander yells. They would take their chances with Lee rather than their grim enemy.43
The Carolinians to the right of the road may have held their places a few moments longer. Lt. Colonel Webster, the British commander opposite them, sent his troops forward after Leslie got under way. The Carolinians on the right, like those on the left, waited patiently but seem to have fired simultaneously with the Americans on their left. Webster responded immediately by commanding his men to charge, hoping to reach the line before the Americans could reload. Sergeant Roger Lamb of the Royal Welch Fusiliers said that the movement was made “in excellent order, in a smart run, with arms charged.” When the British got to within forty yards of the Carolinians, they discovered that they faced men resting their rifles on the rail fence, “taking aim with the nicest precision.” There was a pause while each side looked the other over until Webster rode in front of the 23rd shouting, “Come on my brave Fuzileers.” The line moved again, both sides fired, and finally the American “gave way.” Lamb reported no panic among them.44
Up to this point the action can be reconstructed fairly easily. There was disagreement in the days that followed—and since—about the steadiness of the first line. In his memoirs written years later, Henry Lee blamed the Carolinians for the loss of the battle, surely an unfair charge whatever the truth about their exit from the field. Greene, who was near the court house, too far away to see the first line, also dealt them a heavy load of blame.45
Sergeant Lamb wrote that after the British swept over the first line and into the woods, the action took on a ragged, even unconnected, quality. Visibility in the woods was frequently obscured by the heavy undergrowth which also broke up the evenness of the line. The British complained after the battle that they had found using the bayonet almost impossible, meaning that the heavy concentration of a bayonet charge could not be maintained by men entangled in brush and deflected by trees. The Virginians on the second line understandably regarded the trees and brush differently—as cover from which to avoid the bayonet and to shoot down their attackers. In the woods the attack broke into a series of smaller assaults and charges; no unit on either side had a clear notion of what was happening on its flanks.46
On the extreme edges of the battlefield two separate and savage engagements were fought. Lee’s and Campbell’s riflemen on the American left had not joined the Carolinians in flight. Rather they had fired down the British line as it came abreast of them. So galling was this enfilade fire that Leslie committed his support, the 1st Battalion of Guards, to clean the Americans out. The guards fought tenaciously but only succeeded in pushing Lee and Campbell to higher ground on the American left where they fought, in virtual isolation, until the battle was decided. On the American right, Lynch’s riflemen and Washington’s cavalry delivered an enfilading fire. Webster shifted his line to clear them away and brought up his jaegers and the Guards, hitherto inactive, in “support.” Although the Americans gave ground only slowly, give way they did, and the British left stabilized itself. These shifts outward by the two British wings left the middle relatively open. To cover this part of the field Cornwallis called up O’Hara’s grenadiers and the 2nd Battalion of Guards.47
The Virginians along the second line soon felt the attack of the reconstituted British center. Stevens, one of the two commanders of the Virginians, had felt shame at Camden, but now his men fought with great determination. In this struggle in the woods Cornwallis himself was very nearly captured or killed. Sergeant Lamb, ever alert, spotted him remounted on a dragoon’s horse—his own had been shot—seeking to lead his men forward. But so bewildering was this fight, shrouded by branches and brush, that Cornwallis was a leader with no followers. Lamb grabbed the bridle of his horse just as Cornwallis was about to blunder into a nest of Virginians and guided him back to safety, if any part of that woods of bees and bullets could be considered safe.48
It was Webster’s men on the British left, probably of the 33rd, who smashed through first to the third American line. The 2nd Battalion of Guards soon joined them and before long so did the remaining British units, with the exception of those conducting a private battle on the far left of the American lines.49
The third line consisted of American regulars—two regiments of Virginians on the right and next to them the 1st and 2nd Marylanders. These men stood in the open with the Reedy Fork road to their backs, heavy woods to their right, and the Great Road on their left. On the left flank Greene stationed two six-pounders. Farther to the left across the road Washington’s cavalry rested. These horsemen had been pushed there in hard fighting from the right flank of the first line. To the front of these units, the hill fell off into a ravine and small gullies. All in all, the Americans held a fine defensive position.
The battle along the third line also went through several phases with control of the field shifting back and forth. Webster’s light infantry and the 33rd made the first assault without pausing as they left the woods. They may not have realized that a new fresh line opposed them but perhaps in the eagerness of pursuit believed that their combat was almost over. The Maryland and Virginia Continentals cut them down with a volley and then drove them back in chaos with a bayonet attack. At this moment, Lee and later historians suggest, Greene might have sent his entire line forward and won the field. Greene did not want to risk everything in this battle of surges and surprises—and was satisfied simply to hold his ground.
Simply holding the line soon proved impossible. The 2nd Battalion of Guards supported by the grenadiers now hit forward and dislodged the one inexperienced regiment on the line, the 5th Maryland Regiment, which fled without firing. The Americans recovered through the action of Washington’s cavalry, which plugged the hole in a fierce charge. The 1st Marylanders and small detachments of Virginians swung about and concentrated on driving back the guards. O’Hara, their commander, now steadied them, though he was wounded, and the Fusiliers and the Highlanders were soon sucked into a compressed, savage struggle—much of it hand-to-hand with the Americans gradually gaining control. Seeing that his men must lose in this tight, swirling affair where for the moment at least they were clearly outnumbered, Cornwallis took a dreadful chance. Two three-pounders had been brought to a high point along the Great Road between 200 and 300 yards from the line. Cornwallis ordered that these pieces should fire grape over the British troops immediately to their front and into the unsteady mass of guards and Americans. O’Hara, lying near by, begged him to revoke this order, but Cornwallis held fast and the grape was fired, killing men on both sides. Its effect was to separate the two, and separation worked to the advantage of the British. At close quarters they were unexcelled with the bayonet so long as they were in formation. Tumbled together incoherently, with the greater numbers on their enemy’s side, they lost the advantage and were rapidly being consumed in an unbalanced conflict.50
Drawn apart, the two sides re-formed. The British knew how to reestablish formations more effectively and soon resumed the attack. At this point Greene gave way and ordered a retreat, abandoning his artillery and his wounded. The horses that drew the guns were casualties too, and pulling these pieces out by hand could only cost more lives. The British were far too disabled to pursue. That night the living gave thanks, and the wounded, as always in these eighteenth-century battles, bled and suffered and died.
