The Battle of Guilford Courthouse

At daybreak on March 14, 1781, Major General Nathanael Greene’s army moved out of camp at Speedwell Iron Works in North Carolina and marched the road to Guilford Courthouse to meet his opponent British General Charles, Lord Cornwallis in a long awaited battle. Greene had studied this land well. The choice of position was wholly his decision. The grounds lay in the middle of irregular cultivated fields interspersed with small clearings. The courthouse stood on a hill in one of the clearings. A gentle declivity formed an undulating slope nearly half a mile in length. Greene’s army consisted of 4,243 foot and 160 horse. Fifteen hundred were Continentals, the rest militia. He put his order of battle in place. It was a model of Daniel Morgan’s at Cowpens. The enemy would have to march up New Garden Road where Greene deployed the first of three defensive lines. He positioned one thousand North Carolina militia on the edge of the woods behind a rail fence.

Major General Nathanael Greene instructing the North Carolina Militia in the first line, Battle of Guilford Courthouse.

They would have a good view of the British as they marched out of the woods, through fields and across a small stream. Twelve hundred Virginia militiamen formed the second line. Fourteen hundred experienced Continentals from Virginia, Maryland and Delaware drew up on a brow of the gently rising hill near the courthouse and formed the third line.

Battle of Guilford Court House, a portrait of the battle by H. Charles McBarron Jr.

They were in overall command of General Isaac Huger and Colonel Otho Holland Williams. The army had four 6-pound cannon and one hundred artillerymen. Greene posted two on the road between the militia regiments and the other two between the Virginia and Delaware fronts.

Colonel Otho Holland Williams

Colonel William Washington’s cavalry protected the right flank while Colonel Harry Lee’s horsemen positioned themselves on the left. To the rear, the Reedy Fork Road served as the line of retreat. Like at Cowpens, each line would deliver two or three well-executed volleys and then retire to the second line.

The battlefield at Guilford Courthouse was much larger and Greene was unable to see the entire field. On the morning of March 15, 1781, the wailing pipes of the Scottish Highlanders filtered through the woods. The first British and Hessian troops stepped out on the field and charged the Americans. British Colonel Banastre  Tarleton’s cavalry arrived on the main road with instructions not to charge without positive orders. They were followed by a second wave of infantry with Cornwallis leading the 71st Regiment of Highlanders and the German Regiment of Bose under the command of General Alexander Leslie on the right.

Colonel Banastre Tarleton

An ineffective artillery volley ensued then the British moved forward. The North Carolina line fired too early and their center collapsed. Cornwallis pressed Colonel James Webster’s 33rd foot and Jaegers forward from the left. The Virginia militia fired and gave fight. A volley thundered that threw back Webster’s men dropping both British and Americans. A musket ball smashed Virginia militia General Edward Stevens’ thigh. Webster suffered a mortal wound. There was a brief pause as Webster’s men retreated to reform. General Charles O’Hara’s reserves of grenadiers and the 2nd Battalion of Guards united with Alexander Leslie’s troops. They crossed a ravine and emerged from the woods and attacked Greene’s third line, the Maryland and Delaware Continentals. The 1st Marylanders stood their ground. O’Hara was hit in the chest.

General Alexander Leslie

He turned his command over to Colonel James Stewart. Stewart headed for the fleeing 2nd Marylanders and captured two cannon. He turned on the 1st Maryland and they volleyed at the same time. Their colonel, John Gunby lost his mount and was pinned under it. His deputy commander, Colonel John Eager  Howard, took over for him. A bugle sounded and William Washington and his dragoons thundered through the 2nd Guards and slaughtered them. John Eager Howard regrouped his Marylanders. The shattered British troops tried to reform.

Battle of Guilford Courthouse. Painting by Don Troiani depicting William Washington’s dragoons thundering through the 2nd Guards

Greene pressed forward into the midst of the battle. There was nothing between him and the enemy but woods. His aide saw the danger and warned, “You are riding into the enemy, General Greene!” Greene calmly nodded, turned his horse and rode back to his position. The enemy was gaining ground on his right. At 3:30 pm, two hours after the battle began, he saw that the enemy had turned his left flank. He ordered a retreat before his army could be encircled.

Major General Nathanael Greene

Cornwallis’ lost twenty-five percent of his army in the pyrrhic British victory. The days leading up to Guilford Courthouse overwhelmed Nathanael Greene and he fainted after  the battle, but it was the turning point that forced Cornwallis out of the Carolinas and into Virginia where he met his final surrender to Franco/American forces led by George Washington on October 19, 1781.

Resources:

Beakes, John H. Jr. Otho Holland Williams in The American Revolution. Charleston, South Carolina: The Nautical and Aviation Publishing Co. of American, 2015.

Buchannan, John. The Road to Charleston. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2019.

Buchannan, John. The Road to Guilford Courthouse. Toronto: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1997.

Carbone, Gerald M. Nathanael Greene A Biography of the American Revolution, 2008.

Greene, George Washington. The Life of Nathanael Greene, Major General in the Army of the Revolution. 3 Volumes. New York: Hurd and Houghton. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1871.

Piecusch, Jim, and John H. Beakes, Jr. Cool Deliberate Courage John Eager Howard in the American Revolution. Berwyn Heights, Maryland: Heritage Books, Inc., 2009.

Featured image. The equestrian statue of General Nathanael Greene at Guilford Courthouse Military Park, Greensboro, North Carolina

My biographical novel about General Nathanael Greene titled “The Line of Splendor, A Novel of Nathanael Greene and the American Revolution” is available on Amazon. Click on the cover to get your copy.

The Line of Splendor: A Novel of Nathanael Greene and the American Revolution

The American Revolution was fought between the years 1775 and 1783 on American soil (and sometimes Canadian) between the American Continental Army and their allies the French and Spanish against the colonial mother country Britain and paid soldiers called Hessians. The American victory culminated primarily when British General Lord Charles Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, Virginia on October 19, 1781, after a four week long Franco/American siege under General George Washington and Comte de Rochambeau. 

But who was the American general who drove Lord Cornwallis out of the Carolinas and into Virginia in the first place? George Washington’s most trusted and capable major general, Nathanael Greene. I have written a biographical novel about this often forgotten general whose name every American should know and whose tireless effort is often lost to the annals of history. 

Major General Nathanael Greene

When the first shots of the American Revolutionary War were fired in Massachusetts on April 19, 1775, thirty-two-year-old Nathanael Greene, a self-educated Quaker with no military experience, dismayed his family and marched toward Boston as general of the Rhode Island provincial army. General George Washington recognized his unwavering belief in American independence and the qualities that catapulted him to a major general in the Continental Army.

From the hard lessons learned on the battlefields of New York, to his appointment as Quartermaster General during the harsh winter at Valley Forge, his role in convicting the British spy who colluded to obtain the plans to West Point, to the godsend who took command of the ragged remnants of the Southern Continental Army, Nathanael Greene’s complex perseverance and brilliant strategies broke military doctrines.

This is the story of the man who rose to become a national hero by resuscitating and then propelling the American states to victory in their war for independence and the personal cost of that war.

“The Line of Splendor: A Novel of Nathanael Greene and the American Revolution” is available on Amazon. Click on the cover or the link to order your copy and learn about the life of one of the greatest generals of the American Revolution. Huzzah!  https://www.amazon.com/Line-Splendor-Nathanael-American-Revolution-ebook/dp/B0CDN4MLY2

The Battle of Hobkirk’s Hill

On August 16, 1780, American General Horatio Gates lost an army to British General Lord Charles Cornwallis just north of Camden, South Carolina. Gates abandoned his vanquished army and rode 180 miles to Hillsboro, North Carolina. Gates was the third major general the civilian governing body, the Continental Congress, sent to command the Continental Army’s Southern Department and the third to fail in the attempt. His predecessors, Robert Howe and Benjamin Lincoln surrendered Savannah, Georgia and Charleston, South Carolina respectively to the British. This time, Congress left the choice to the commander-in-chief of the Continental Army: General George Washington. He chose his most trusted and capable major general, Nathanael Greene, who had been by Washington’s side since 1775 at the Siege of Boston where Patriots were keeping the British locked in Boston after the first shots of the American Revolutionary War were fired in Massachusetts.

Major General Nathanael Greene

Greene took command of the ragged, starving remnants of the Southern Army from Horatio Gates in Charlotte, North Carolina on December 3, 1780. His army, including militia forces, totaled 2,300 but only 800 were properly armed and clothed. Greene, who was from Rhode Island and had spent his entire life in the north, had to adapt quickly to the new environment where the landscape, climate, and rivers were different. A place where the majority of the people were poor and the powerful Rice King’s of the south were cowed. Where civil authority had broken down and a civil war raged between Patriots and Loyalists. General Charles Cornwallis was 70 miles south at Winnsboro, South Carolina with a well-equipped principle force of 4,000 men. What was a Continental general with a new independent command to do? Ignore every military doctrine that warned of dividing an army in the face of a superior foe.

General Lord Charles Cornwallis

Greene executed a strategy that began with sending General Daniel Morgan and a flying detachment to northwest South Carolina to “spirit up the people.” Greene led his wing of the army from Charlotte to Cheraw, South Carolina where food for the army was more plentiful. Cornwallis sent his cavalry colonel Banastre Tarleton to “rid the countryside of Morgan.” On January 17, 1781, Morgan defeated Tarleton at a place called the Cowpens. Cornwallis lost 1,000 men at Cowpens. Furious, he went after Morgan.

General Daniel Morgan

With a small contingent of guard, Greene set out through 300 miles of perilous Loyalist country to support Morgan’s retreat toward Salisbury, North Carolina. Cornwallis burned his baggage train to lighten his army’s pursuit. Greene moved his army’s junction to Guilford Courthouse, North Carolina where he decided that a retreat to the Dan River on the border of North Carolina and Virginia was the only way to preserve his army. On February 15, Cornwallis’s troops marched up to the banks of the Dan River. They saw the American campfires burning on the other side. Greene had taken every boat in the Roanoke Valley and there was nothing Cornwallis could do but stare. Greene moved his army back to Guildford Courthouse where he and Cornwallis clashed on the afternoon of March 15, 1781. It was a pyrrhic British victory that cost Cornwallis more than 500 men. He retreated to Wilmington, North Carolina, a coastal port 200 miles away.

North and South Carolina during the American Revolutionary War

Undaunted by the loss at Guilford Courthouse, Greene turned his attention to the British outposts in the interior of South Carolina. The Southern Army marched through country that was extremely difficult to operate—cut by deep creeks and impassable morasses, heavy timber, and thick underbrush. On April 20, they pulled up to the stockade walls of Camden, South Carolina where Lord Francis Rawdon had 900 Loyalist and British troops garrisoned. Aware that it was too strong to attack, Greene pulled his army back to Hobkirk’s Hill, a sandy ridge two miles north of Camden over which ran the Salisbury Road.

Colonel Lord Francis Rawdon

In the early morning hours of April 25, 1781, a skittish drummer deserted from the Maryland line. He carried word to Rawdon that the American Army was weakened by detachments and lack of food. General Greene had no artillery with him. It was in the rear along with the baggage train and that militia General Thomas Sumter had not come up yet to support the Americans. Rawdon listened to the drummer. He armed the boy along with every man in the garrison, including musicians and drummers.

Nathanael Greene’s troops were camped on Hobkirk’s Hill in order of battle in a wide line across the hill. Colonel Otho Holland Williams had overall command of the Maryland troops to the left of the road, and General Isaac Huger ranked command over the Virginia Continentals to the right. Otho’s two regiments were the 1st Maryland, commanded by Colonel John Gunby and the 2nd Maryland commanded by Colonel Benjamin Ford. Gunby’s deputy was the brilliant Colonel John Eager Howard, who had led the regiment at Cowpens and taken up command at Guilford Courthouse when Gunby was pinned beneath his horse. The 2nd Virginians were under the direct command of Colonel Samuel Hawes with the 1st under Colonel Richard Campbell. Two hundred fifty North Carolina militia were in back of the Continentals. Colonel William Washington’s 3rd Continental Dragoons—only about fifty mounted due to the difficulty of procuring horses—were held in reserve.

Colonel Otho Holland Williams

To protect them from surprise, pickets were stationed 300 yards in front of their lines supported by Maryland, Virginia, and Delaware Continentals. Greene’s men were enjoying the quiet morning buoyed by his orders that every man would receive two days’ worth of food and a gill of spirits as soon as quartermaster Colonel Edward Carrington arrived with the stores. Their arms were stacked. Coats and shoes lay scattered. Washington’s dragoon horses grazed peacefully at their loose tethers. Men were relaxing by a rivulet, soaking their sore feet or cleaning their kettles when they heard the sound of sharp musketry at the base of the hill.

The American drums beat to arms as the pickets clashed with Lord Rawdon’s vanguard. The surprised Americans, many still barefoot and half-dressed, rushed to form their lines. Gun smoke curl up and through the towering pine trees. Otho Holland Williams tried to keep his surprise concealed when he mounted his horse and galloped from the front lines to Greene’s headquarters. When he arrived, General Greene, who had been enjoying the rare luxury of a cup of coffee, was on his feet. Satisfied, Otho returned to the lines before the fighting became widespread.

Greene abandoned his breakfast and jumped into the saddle, followed by his aides majors Lewis Morris and Ichabod Burnett. North Carolina militia officer Guilford Dudley was marching up the back side of the hill with the artillery. Otho ordered Dudley to “March to the right and support Colonel Campbell.”

Greene rode forward with a good view of the hill. Captain Robert Kirkwood’s Delaware pickets were slowly being pushed back by Rawdon’s vanguard. The British commander had arranged his men in a single line with his Corps of Observation in the rear, the right wing supported by 675 provincial regulars and the Volunteers of Ireland on the left. Rawdon’s line was narrow. Greene believed that they could strike their flanks, rear, and front. He quickly ordered Colonel Richard Campbell to wheel left upon the enemy’s right flank. He communicated that he wanted Colonel Benjamin Ford that he was to wheel his men to the right.

As Rawdon advanced, Greene sent orders to unmask the artillery. The American gunners shredded the tightly packed British columns with volleys of whistling grapeshot. Through the clearing blue smoke, General Greene saw the destruction and was beside himself with satisfaction. “Victory is in reach! Draw forth and send instructions to Colonels Gunby and Hawes to conduct a bayonet charge in the center. Then send Colonel Washington and his dragoons to turn the enemy’s right flank and charge them in the rear.”

Lord Rawdon raged as he saw his men fall and the Continentals charging with bayonets. He took his aggressive anger out on one of his aides, “I was told that Greene had no artillery!” He shouted orders to the Volunteers of Ireland who came up and added their fire against the Maryland ranks. Rawdon continued to disseminate orders to his aides, “Rally, my boys, and bring up all from the rear. Lengthen our lines and avoid the flanking maneuver the American general intends on executing.”

Aside from the 63rd foot, all of Rawdon’s troops were American Tories fighting against American Whigs, and they were quick to take advantage of the thick woods on the hill. The firing was so intense that musket barrels became too hot to hold in their hands.

As Nathanael Greene’s infantry rolled forward so too did William Washington and his dragoons. They swept down around the hill to avoid felled trees and heavy undergrowth, and then rode hard for Major John Coffin’s dragoons on the British right flank. They clashed and swung their short blades from the saddles of their wheeling horses. Coffin’s men scattered. Although deterred by the thick undergrowth, Washington gathered his dragoons under the direct command of captains William Parsons and Walker Baylor and fell upon the rear of the British infantry. They became bogged down in taking prisoners who were, in fact, Lord Rawdon’s desperate attempt to arm as many as he could. The musicians, surgeons, and teamsters had no stomach to stand up against a force of hard galloping dragoons, and they quickly surrendered.

Colonel William Washington

The American infantry continued to push forward. Many of the Marylanders under Colonel Benjamin Ford were new recruits, and some began firing without orders. Ford was shot off his horse and suffered a mortal wound. None of the skittish 2nd Marylanders came to their colonel’s aide. Gunby’s and Hawes’ men continued a steady advance. Some forgot to use their bayonets and fired instead. The trusted captain of the right company, William Beatty, was shot through the heart and dropped dead.

Colonel John Eager Howard

His company, the 1st Marylanders, became deranged and fell out of line. The other companies under Colonel John Eager Howard were still advancing, and instead of pushing them all forward Colonel John Gunby saw they were marching in the form of a bow and ordered them to fall back to the foot of the hill and reform. The consequences were fatal. General Greene had told them not to fire. Now, they were being told to halt in the face of a charging British force. They broke and ran. This left the 2nd Marylanders isolated, and they too fell back followed by the 1st Virginians.

Otho Holland Williams saw the panic and rode toward them, but neither he nor Colonels Howard or Gunby could stop it. Greene was up on the ridge where he had spent most of the battle with Samuel Hawes’ 2nd Virginians. He exposed himself like a captain of grenadiers and attempted to restore order. It became obvious that Lord Rawdon understood that Hawes’ men were alone, and, seeing his advantage, pressed the hill to flank them and silence the American artillery.

Swept up in the tide of retreating troops, the American gunners mishandled their frightened teams and snagged the limbers in heavy brush. The horses panicked and had to be cut from the limbers. Bitterly disappointed, Greene issued the order for his surviving regiments to withdraw, and they formed with the now-rallied Gunby’s men at the foot of the hill.

The troubles the gunners were encountering came to Greene’s attention as they tried to pull the cannon out of the reach of the enemy with drag ropes. He jumped from his saddle, and with the horse’s bridle in one hand and a drag rope in the other, he encouraged the dismayed gunners, “There is not a man here who does not have the courage to take the cannon off.” Seeing that their general was with the artillery, others came to help. Greene wasted no time, and he rode on to see what could be done about bringing the rout to a halt.

Major John Coffin’s British dragoons charged toward the cannon with swords aloft and began to put some of the men dragging the cannon to the sword. The assault gave the others time to get the guns hitched to horses and safely away backed up by Washington’s charging dragoons, each with prisoners in tow. It was a wasted effort. Bogged down by captives and the wooded lay of the land, Washington’s cavalry could not act with effect.

Greene called a retreat. Washington caught up with the main army and delivered the prisoners he probably should not have taken. Greene ordered the prisoners processed. He knew Rawdon was in pursuit. He did not know that Rawdon had left Major John Coffin with his cavalry on Hobkirk’s Hill to claim the ground as a British victory.

Greene ordered Washington to go back and screen their retreat and to take Captain Kirkwood’s Delaware unit with him. He also instructed Washington to take up their stragglers and wounded, and bring them back. If circumstances and time permitted, bury their dead.

Greene led his army three miles north of Hobkirk’s Hill and stopped to camp at Saunders’ Creek in the same sandy Pine Barrens where Horatio Gates had lost an army. Lord Rawdon broke off his pursuit and returned to the walls of Camden. Both commanders lost 200 men—dead, wounded, captured, and missing. Greene was in a vexatious mood after the loss he was certain could have been a victory. He changed his password and countersign to “Persevere” and “Fortitude.” The loss angered him and wounded his pride. He directed his anger at Maryland Colonel John Gunby saying his actions were the cause for the loss and had Gunby court-martialed.

On April 28, he issued orders in the camp at Rugeley’s Mill, “General Huger, Colonel Harrison, and Colonel Washington are to compose a court to inquire into the conduct of Colonel Gunby in the action of the 25th instant.” The testimony found that Gunby was exerting himself in rallying and forming his troops, only committing an error in judgment. Greene could not let it pass. He castigated Gunby publicly in written orders:

Col. Gunby’s Spirit and activity were unexceptional. But his order for the regiment to retire, which broke the line, was extremely improper and unmilitary; and in all probability the only cause why we did not obtain a complete victory.

Despite  Greene’ loss, by April 24 Cornwallis had had enough of Nathanael Greene. He abandoned the Carolinas and marched to Virginia. Greene’s strategy began to strangle the British. He cut off Lord Rawdon’s supply line and forced him to evacuate Camden on May 9. Over that month under Greene’s orders, the British outposts fell at the hands of “Light-Horse” Harry Lee and militia generals Francis Marion and Andrew Pickens. Greene laid siege to the last remaining outpost at the fortified town of Ninety-Six on May 22. The siege ended in bloody, hand to hand combat. Nathanael retreated on June 18. Lord Rawdon marched into Ninety-Six two days later and eventually burned the outpost.

Greene moved his army to the High Hills of Santee near Camden where the air was cooler and the mosquitos were less relentless. Although it was a camp of repose, there was not a moment that allowed him to let his guard down or cease his endless letters of instruction, exhortation, and solicitation regarding the condition of his ragged, malaria-ridden army and their needs. Still, his sense of humor didn’t completely escape him. He wrote to General Henry Knox that no general had run as often or “more lustily” as he had and likened his flight to that of “a Crab, that could run either way.”

Hobkirk’s Hill and the collapse of the British outposts in South Carolina was not be the end of Greene’s strategy. His relentless perseverance to keep the British locked in Savannah and Charleston paid off. On October 19, 1781, Lord Cornwallis surrendered to Franco/American forces at Yorktown, Virginia. If it had not been for General Nathanael Greene, the surrender at Yorktown likely would not have happened.

My biographical novel about General Nathanael Greene title “The Line of Splendor: A Novel of Nathanael Greene and the American Revolution” is available on Amazon. Click the cover to get your copy!

Resources:

Beakes, John H. Jr. Otho Holland Williams in The American Revolution. Charleston, South Carolina: The Nautical and Aviation Publishing Co. of American, 2015

Beakes, John H. Jr. and Piecuch, Jim. Cool Deliberate Courage: John Eager Howard in the American Revolution.  Heritage Books, 2009

Buchannan, John. The Road to Charleston. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2019

Carbone, Gerald M. Nathanael Greene A Biography of the American Revolution, 2008.

Golway, Terry. Washington’s General Nathanael Greene and the Triumph of the American Revolution. New York: Henry Holt and Company

Greene, George Washington. The Life of Nathanael Greene, Major General in the Army of the Revolution.3 Volumes. New York: Hurd and Houghton. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1871

Thayer, Theodore. Nathanael Greene Strategist of the American Revolution. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1960

 

Loyal and Steadfast: Animals of the American Revolution

While many people today view their pets as close members of their family, even with human-like thoughts and feelings, this phenomenon was not as common in the eighteenth century. By 1775 at the start of the American Revolutionary War, dogs were well established and part of the culture, although they were not always welcome and ownership was restricted. Horses have been useful animals since the dawn of history, whether they’re used for a sport, work, or war. This attachment endured and directly contributed to the well-being, success and sometimes distress of many people whether they were American, British, French, or German.

Dogs

Spado

Continental Army Major General Charles Lee, a native of England, fought for the British army in the French and Indian War. When the war was over, he returned home and became a soldier of fortune. When he moved to North America in 1773, the Patriots hailed him as a military expert. Lee was slovenly, used foul language, sarcasm, and insults, and criticized his superiors. On the other hand, he was a composed, brilliant and courageous leader in battle.

Engraved caricature of Charles Lee with his dog, Spado

Charles Lee was often accompanied by at least one or two of his canine companions that only added to his eccentric perception for he proclaimed, “If you love me, you must love my dogs.” His favorite was Spado, which a guest at a dinner party described as “a native of Pomerania, which I should have taken for a bear had I seen him in the woods.” On another occasion in late 1775, Lee had Abigail Adams shake Spado’s paw. Comparing their trustworthiness with his fellow humans, Lee wrote to Abigail’s husband, John Adams, “Once I can be convinced that men are as worth objects as dogs, I shall transfer my benevolence.”

Lee’s dogs provided him with a sense of comfort. About a year later, Lee was captured in New Jersey. Either Spado wasn’t with the general or if he was, the British raiders didn’t bring Spado along. Lee wrote to George Washington from British-held New York asking that his dogs be brought to him as “I never stood in greater need of their Company than at present.”

Evidently Lee’s friends undertook to send Spado to the estate that the general had purchased in Virginia, but the dog was lost and an advertisement appeared Dunlap’s Maryland Gazette, published in Baltimore with a reward. Some of those Maryland newspapers made their way north because on March 9, 1777 Abigail Adams wrote to her husband, “I see by the news papers you sent me that Spado is lost. I mourn for him. If you know any thing of His Master pray Let me hear, what treatment he meets with, where he is confined &c.”

But evidently Spado was gone for good. When General Lee was finally released from captivity in the spring of 1778, his best companion was not there to greet him. He was never as cheerful afterward.

Lila

George Washington was an avid dog lover and fox hunter, Greyhounds, spaniels, terriers, newfoundlands, briards, and many toy breeds could be found in Washington’s extensive Mount Vernon kennel.  Before and after the war, he visited his kennels daily and provided his pups with creative names, such as Madame Moose, Drunkard, Vulcan, Taster, Duchess, and Truelove.

George Washington and his Dogs

Washington’s love for his four-legged friends carried over to the Revolutionary War. At the Battle of Germantown on October 4, 1777, fog blanketed the fighting troops, causing mass confusion and many accidental misfires. British General William Howe’s pet fox terrier, Lila, was one of the many lost in the confusion. Disoriented, Lila followed Washington and the Continental Army home from the battle. After Washington identified Howe as Lila’s owner from her collar he felt it was his duty to return her, opposed to keeping her as a trophy of war.

General William Howe and a Fox Terrier similar to Lila

He delivered the dog back to Howe along with the following note, likely written by aide-de-camp, Alexander Hamilton, “General Washington’s compliments to General Howe. He does himself the pleasure to return him a dog, which accidentally fell into his hands, and by the inscription on the Collar appears to belong to General Howe.”

Azor

Baron Von Steuben of Prussia landed at Portsmouth, New Hampshire on December 1, 1777 with French aides and a large dog. Throughout the entire Revolutionary War, Steuben was accompanied by his beloved and much indulged Italian Greyhound, Azor.  Even before Steuben’s party landed on American soil, Azor’s “discerning ear for music” put him in good stead with the crew of the ship which took them to New Hampshire. Azor howled pitifully every time the captain of the ship attempted to sing.

Baron von Steuben and an Italian Greyhound similar to Azor

Steuben’s  aide, Pierre-Étienne du Ponceau, wrote:  “We travelled on horseback. I must not forget the Baron’s dog Azor, the only pedestrian among us. He was a beautiful Italian grey hound who had an excellent ear for music.”

Baron von Steuben was promoted to major general and inspector general of the Continental Army. He proved to be a godsend to the fledging American army encamped for the winter at Valley Forge. He had a few idiosyncrasies that endeared him to the American troops: He wore enormous pistols in his uniform sash; he cursed in a multitude of foreign languages, and he was constantly followed by Azor. Ultimately, Steuben went down in history for the bravery, discipline, and grit he brought to the American troops and a dog that was there to provide him companionship and comfort. I found no record of what happened to Azor, but the dog was still with Steuben as late as 1786.

Horses

The American Revolution’s armies got their horsepower from horses. These animals carried cavalrymen into battle, pulled cannons, carts and wagons of all description, hauled baggage on their backs, moved messengers swiftly over countless miles, and brought officers and gentlemen to wherever they needed to be. The rebel colonists used their own horses in the war, but the British and Hessians often had to take theirs since it was difficult to ship horses across the Atlantic from England. Taking horses was not unknown among the Patriots, especially cavalry units who wore out their horses and horse furniture quickly, however they were supposed to pay the owner or provide a promissory note for the animal.

Cavalry

Without the cavalry troops used in the American Revolution, the Americans would not have stood a chance against the massive British Army. These horses provided them with faster feet to travel farther in a shorter time.

The Continental mounted forces rendered valuable service during the latter stages of the war, specifically in the Southern Theater of the American Revolution. William Washington’s 3rd Continental Light Dragoons played an instrumental role in the in the battles of Cowpens and Guilford Court House. Henry “Light Horse Harry” Lee’s Legion, as well as militia units led by generals Andrew Pickens, Thomas Sumter and Francis Marion, saw extensive action in American Major General Nathanael Greene’s operations in the southern colonies.

The Battle of Guildford Courthouse depicting Colonel William Washington’s dragoons

The hated and feared British cavalry officer, Colonel Banastre Tarleton often clashed with these legions and dragoon companies, one of the most famous being the Battle of Cowpens on January 17, 1781 when Tarleton and Washington dueled for a moment at the end of the battle.

The Battle of Cowpens by William Ranney 1845. Banastre Tarleton and William Washington at the end of the battle.

The British Army sent two regiments of light dragoons to serve in North America during the Revolutionary War. The first to arrive was the 17th Light Dragoons, who landed in Boston in 1775, while the city was still under siege by the Continental Army. They remained in America for the next eight years, serving in nearly every major campaign up through the end of hostilities.

Nelson and Blueskin

During the American Revolution, Washington was gifted two horses, Nelson and Blueskin who returned with Washington to Mount Vernon after the war.

Blueskin was a half-Arabian blue roan – meaning that he had darker skin and lighter colored hair, so during the summer months when his hair was short, he looked bluish in color. When the weather turned colder and his coat thickened, he appeared to be white. Washington rode Blueskin in some battles during the war. However, Blueskin didn’t tolerate the sounds, smells and sights of battle as steadily as Washington would have liked. Many portraits of Washington depict him atop Blueskin, possibly due to the horse’s greyish-white color.

Washington depicted at Trenton riding Blueskin

In fact Washington often rode his other favorite horse, Nelson, to battle instead. Washington did use Blueskin for ceremonial events, which may also have contributed to Blueskin getting more “portrait time” than Nelson. Nelson was said to have “carried the General almost always during the war.” Described as a “splendid charger,” the animal was chestnut, with white face and legs. Nelson was less skittish during cannon fire and the startling sounds of battle. Washington chose to ride Nelson on the day the British army under the direction of Lord Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, Virginia in 1781.

Washington depicted at the Battle of Monmouth riding Nelson.

Nelson died at Mount Vernon “many years after the Revolution, at a very advanced age.” His death was reported to George Washington during the Christmas season of 1790, when the old horse would have been twenty-seven years old.

Britain

Britain was the name of the horse that Major General Nathanael Greene owned before the American Revolutionary War ignited on April 19, 1775. Nathanael often rode Britain into Boston and to visit friends and family in Rhode Island. The horse’s name could lead us to understand that before the first shots of the war were fired even men who became officers in the Continental Army still had a mental connection to the American Colonies’ mother country, Britain. There is no depiction of Britain so instead I present the equestrian statue of Nathanael Greene at Guilford Courthouse.

Equestrian statue of General Nathanael Greene at Guilford Courthouse

Warren

When General Benedict Arnold stormed Breymann’s Redoubt during the Battle of Bemis Heights near Saratoga, New York on October 7, 1777, he was riding a horse that he borrowed from a friend. “On he rushed through deepening twilight on a horse named for the dead hero [Joseph Warren] who had given him the commission with which his military career had begun.” [1] Arnold was shot in the thigh. The horse was shot in the heart and fell on Arnold pinning him beneath it, but it was this heroic action that won the pivotal battle that brought on an American alliance with France that aided in the Siege of Yorktown and the final British surrender in October 1781.

General Benedict Arnold depicted storming Breymann’s Redoubt

Paul Revere’s Horse

On the night of April 18, 1775, Dr. Joseph Warren sent Paul Revere and William Dawes to alert the countryside from Boston to Concord that the British regulars were out of Boston and on the march.

What was the name of the horse Revere rode? There is no evidence that Revere owned a horse at the time he made his famous ride. He likely owned a horse or he certainly had ready access to horses at some point in order to become the experienced rider that he was. If he had owned a horse in April 1775, it is unlikely he would have tried to bring it with him when he was rowed across the Charles River to Charlestown.

Paul Revere’s Ride

Revere left several accounts of his “Midnight Ride,” and although he states that he borrowed the horse from John Larkin, neither he nor anyone else takes much notice of the horse, or refers to it by name. Revere calls it simply “a very good horse.” In the years since 1775 many names have been attached to the animal, the most exotic probably being Scheherazade. The only name for which there is any evidence, however, is Brown Beauty. The following excerpt is taken from a genealogy of the Larkin family, published in 1930.

Samuel (Larkin) … born Oct. 22, 1701; died Oct. 8, 1784, aged 83; he was a chairmaker, then a fisherman and had horses and a stable. He was the owner of “Brown Beauty,” the mare of Paul Revere’s Ride made famous by the Longfellow poem. The mare was loaned at the request of Samuel’s son, deacon John Larkin, and was never returned to Larkin.

Resources:

https://www.americanrevolutioninstitute.org/asset/engraving-of-charles-lee-with-his-dog/

https://boston1775.blogspot.com/2014/07/abigail-adams-and-hand-of-friendship.html

https://boston1775.blogspot.com/2018/08/whatever-happened-to-spado.html

https://www.battlefields.org/learn/articles/american-dogs

https://www.americanheritage.com/case-generals-dog

https://nationalpurebreddogday.com/the-war-of-independence-and-an-iggie-was-there/

Lockhart, Paul. The Drillmaster of Valley Forge. New York. Harper Collins. 2008

[1] Philbrick, Nathaniel. Valiant Ambition. New York. Penguin Books. 2016. Page 167

https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/nelson-horse/

https://www.presidentialpetmuseum.com/george-washingtons-blueskin/

https://www.paulreverehouse.org/frequently-asked-questions-about-the-midnight-ride-of-paul-revere/

Featured Image The Cowpens, South Carolina, January 17, 1781. By Don Troiani.

“Act Worthy of Yourselves” an Alternate Ending

I wrote the short story “Act Worthy of Yourselves” that asks the question “What if Dr. Joseph Warren had survived Bunker Hill?” as part of the Historical Writers Forum anthology “Alternate Endings” because frankly, Dr. Joseph Warren is the love of my American Revolution life.

This young and largely forgotten patriot is an important character in the first book of my historical fantasy series, Angels and Patriots Book One: Sons of Liberty, Lexington and Concord, Bunker Hill. I’ve also have published non-fiction works about Warren including a short piece titled America’s First Martyr in the Military Writers Society of America’s 2021 anthology Untold Stories, numerous blog posts, and three audio clips for a website called Hear About Hear that provides audio clips for historic places. The three audio clips can be heard at Old South Meeting House in Boston, Massachusetts, Bunker Hill Monument in Charlestown, Massachusetts, and King’s Chapel in Boston where Warren delivered two Boston Massacre Orations (1772 & 1775), was killed at age 34 at the Battle of Bunker Hill on June 17, 1775, and the chapel where his funeral was held, respectively.

Dr. Joseph Warren

Warren was a Boston physician, Son of Liberty, politician, orator, masonic Grand Master, president of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress and a major general. He was a member of the Sons of Liberty, a group of political dissidents formed in Boston to protest King George III and Parliament’s taxation and control of colonial authority. Their protests against the Mother country’s sudden subjugation after more than a century of autonomy, proliferated in the America colonies in the 1760s. Some of their famous members were Paul Revere, John Hancock, and Samuel Adams. John Adams, a Massachusetts lawyer and politician was not a Son of Liberty, but he was a sympathizer.

It was Joseph Warren who sent Paul Revere, along with William Dawes, on that ride to warn the countryside that the British regulars were out of Boston and on the march looking for rebel munitions on the night of April 18, 1775. He was holding the rebellion together in Massachusetts during the spring of 1775 while Samuel Adams and John Hancock were hiding in Lexington for fear of being hanged by the British for treason.

Through the committees of the Provincial Congress, he tirelessly wrote letters to leaders of other colonies, rallying for the cause, asking for help, and pressing them for their responsibilities in the rebellion against Britain. He gathered militia, supplies, and directed the provincial army who conducted the siege of Boston on the British in that town after the first shots of the war were fired in Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts on April 19, 1775.

His death at the Battle of Bunker Hill was widely lamented by his friends and patients such as Abigail Adams, John Adams, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, patriots who fought alongside Warren on that fateful day and as far reaching as Philadelphia and the southern colonies. His death, early in the war, served to leave him in obscurity. He deserves to be known for everything he did in the infancy of the American Revolution to promote freedom and liberty. So the questions is “what if Joseph Warren had survived Bunker Hill?” Where would he have stood among the American Founding Fathers, many of whom were his fellows long before the rest of the world had heard their names.

One last very important comment. 

My share of royalties will go to the Dr. Joseph Warren Foundation an organization dedicated to educating the public about his life & contributions to the American Revolution. 

I hope you enjoy my short story “Act Worthy of Yourselves” in our anthology as much as I enjoyed writing it! Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle. Click the cover to get your copy!

Authors:

Virginia Crow
Cathie Dunn
Sharon Bennett Connolly
Karen Heenan
Samantha Wilcoxson
Michael Ross
Salina B Baker
Elizabeth Corbett

 

“Remember the Ladies” an Alternate Ending: Guest Post by Michael L Ross

I wrote my alternate ending about Abigail Adams and women’s suffrage after researching women’s rights and looking at the current storm on abortion rights with the overturn of Roe vs. Wade. When I was writing my first book, “Clouds of War”, I was surprised by the fact that most women couldn’t sign contracts, and lost control over the property as soon as they were married. In researching my as-yet-unpublished Revolutionary War novel, I discovered that in some colonies, women could vote before the signing of the US Constitution, but lost that right. That led me to look at where these laws depriving women of rights came from – and the answer was somewhat astonishing.  It turns out that there was a barrister named William Blackstone in England, who spread the idea of “coverture” because he believed women were emotionally and intellectually unfit for politics, business, and most intellectual endeavors. Blackstone was an obscure lawyer who had lost his job and was not particularly adept at the law, but his book “Commentaries on the Laws of England” was particularly popular with men. It became a mantra of male dominance, without bothering to prove the points it contained.

In studying the Revolutionary War, I read many of the original letters and documents from Abigail and John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Mercy Otis Warren, Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington. I was impressed in particular with the logic, intellect, and writing of Abigail Adams. Thanks to her separation for months at a time from her husband, she wrote over two thousand letters. Though she requested that they be burned at her death, thankfully, someone did not follow that instruction, and we have a large collection of her thoughts and feelings during that period.

One letter, in particular, caught my attention, from Abigail to John, and his reply. She had just heard of the decision to declare independence from England, and being of sharp mind, immediately realized that the slate of laws was wiped clean, and they might begin afresh. She was excited at the prospect of equal rights for women, including the vote, and wrote to John that when they made the new laws, the men must “remember the ladies”. John effectively laughed at her and expressed many of the same opinions voiced in Blackstone’s book. In real life, while she was vexed, Abigail acted as the submissive wife of her time and culture, though voicing her indignation in letters both to John, Thomas Jefferson, and her friend Mercy Otis Warren. Reading Abigail’s displeasure led me to wonder – what if? What if she had rallied the other leading women, as well as the poor non-landowning farmer men, to demand the right to vote? How could she have leveraged it to make the men listen?  What had the women done before as a group, and what had its effect been?

From there, the story “Remember the Ladies” practically wrote itself, primarily using Abigail’s own words. I hope you enjoy it.

Abigail Adams

John Adams

Mercy Otis Warren

Alternate Endings: The Lure of Dr. Joseph Warren

I was asked what inspired me to write the short story “Act Worthy of Yourselves” as part of the Historical Writers Forum anthology “alternate endings” a collection of short stories by a group of eight talented historical writers who each have their own story that asks the question, what if an historical event was altered and changed the course of history?

My story asks, “What if Dr. Joseph Warren had survived the Battle of Bunker Hill?” one of the bloodiest battles of the American Revolution fought on the Charlestown peninsula northeast of Boston on June 17,1775. The title “Act Worthy of Yourselves” is a line from Warren’s Boston Massacre Oration which he delivered at Old South Meeting House in Boston on March 6, 1775 to a crowd so large that he was forced to climb through the window behind the pulpit to avoid being crushed.

This post is part of our blog hop tour for “alternate endings.”

In 2015, I was searching for the topic of my next book. I had written two standalone novels set in Victorian America and I wanted to pursue something historically different. I asked myself how much I knew about the American Civil War as that was the first love of my historical life. But it was set in the same time period and I realized I needed to move to a different era. I did know quite a bit about the American Revolution and Colonial America and decided I was willing to put my effort into learning more.

Where to start? Ah, yes. Why not start with the obvious—the Sons of Liberty, a group of political dissidents formed in Boston to protest King George III and Parliament’s taxation and control of colonial authority. Their protests against the Mother country’s sudden subjugation after more than a century of autonomy, proliferated in the America colonies in the 1760s. Who did I know that belonged to the Sons of Liberty? Why Paul Revere, John Hancock, and Samuel Adams their ringleader, of course. John Adams, a Massachusetts lawyer and politician was not a Son of Liberty, but he was a sympathizer. Boston was already militarily occupied in response to acts of what the King considered disobedience.

My research immediately led me to a list of Massachusetts Sons of Liberty and among them was a handsome, young doctor named Joseph Warren. It was love at first sight. I could not get enough of who he was, what he did, his growth as a man, politician, orator, leader, and masonic Grand Master. He apprenticed under Loyalist Dr. James Lloyd and medically treated people from all walks of life. The rising Patriot admiration for him and his efforts for the Patriot cause could not be ignored nor the threat he posed to the British, who in the end, were pleased to see he and his sedition put to death on a battlefield.

Dr. Joseph Warren circa 1764 by John Singleton Copley

I had read the poem “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow when I was in sixth grade and it always stuck with me. Imagine my delight when I found out that Joseph Warren was the guy who sent Paul Revere, along with William Dawes, on that ride to warn the countryside that the British regulars were out of Boston and on the march looking for rebel munitions on the night of April 18, 1775.  That it was Joseph Warren who was holding the rebellion together in Massachusetts during the spring of 1775 while Samuel Adams and John Hancock were hiding in Lexington for fear of being hanged by the British for treason. During the time many of his colleagues including Adams and Hancock attended the second Continental Congress in Philadelphia in late spring 1775, he became president of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress.

Warren tended to be dauntless, storming into a situation without thought for personal risk. John Adams once said, “Warren was a young man whom nature had adorned with grace and manly beauty, and a courage that would have been rash absurdity, had it not been tempered by self-control.” 

Then, there was the tragedy of Warren’s personal life. His wife died at age 26, leaving him a widower with four children under age eight. When he was killed at age 34 at the Battle of Bunker Hill his children were orphaned.

So Joseph Warren rose as a shining star in my novel “Angels and Patriots Book One: Sons of Liberty, Lexington and Concord, Bunker Hill.” Because the series is historical fantasy, my main character is an archangel with the human name Colm Bohannon. How much farther can you elevate someone than have a man and an archangel become friends and learn love and loyalty from one another? Not much. How much do you weep when you know how it historically ended?

As I wrote, I began to share facts about Joseph Warren and I found that he is adored and even worshipped among history and American Revolutionary War enthusiasts and authors. For years, the question that came up was and always has been, “What if Joseph Warren had survived Bunker Hill?” This ubiquitous and charismatic leader took the reins of the rebellion politically and militarily and accepted a provincial generalship on the day the American Continental Army was formed, June 14, 1775—three days before his death.

There were many questions on my mind and on the mind of others.

*If he had survived, how would General George Washington have received him? Or perhaps Washington would have relinquished his appointment as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army and recommended Warren in his stead?

*Would Warren have been one of the greatest tactical or strategic generals of the war?

*Would his concern for civilians taken him in a political direction?

*What about his medical practice and experience? Would he have benefited the Continental Army with his expertise?

*Would he have stayed behind to see to matters in Massachusetts? Or gone on to preside over the Continental Congress, the civilian governing body during the war?

*Would he have discovered great medical break throughs?

*How would his life and his children’s lives unfolded during and beyond the war?

*How far would he have reached for the stars while a new nation was rising?

As an author and person who came to adore Dr. Joseph Warren but not blind to his faults, I couldn’t let these burning questions pass me by when the opportunity arose to write an alternate ending to his life. If only for this moment, in this anthology, he is given another chance. Perhaps others who have asked the same question will agree with how I see it. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I know people who know who Joseph Warren was will want to read it and share in their opinions. For those who don’t know who he was, the story I wrote is based in fact and I didn’t change the outcome of the Revolutionary War.

Dr. Joseph Warren’s name is not a household word like George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, John Adams or Thomas Jefferson. His premature death saw to that. Beyond my own novel, if I can raise awareness of his accomplishments through a historical alternate ending, I will be satisfied that I tried.

One other person who I should mention that is part of the story is Joseph’s youngest brother, Dr. John Warren. His name and extraordinary medical accomplishments are lesser known than those of his brother’s. John’s part in this story is based in fact. I assure you will be surprised and impressed.

Dr. John Warren circa 1806 by Rembrandt Peale

 

I hope you enjoy our anthology as much as we have enjoyed writing it! Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle. Click the cover to get your copy!

Authors:

Virginia Crow
Cathie Dunn
Sharon Bennett Connolly
Karen Heenan
Samantha Wilcoxson
Michael Ross
Salina B Baker
Elizabeth Corbett

My share of royalties will go to the Dr. Joseph Warren Foundation an organization dedicated to educating the public about his life & contributions to the American Revolution. 

 

 

Washington’s Drummer Boy: Guest Post by Michael L. Ross

Sometimes freedom disappears one law at a time, like Virginia creeper covering a stone wall. This was often the case with Britain and its American colonies, where the mother country sought to control and sap resources from the citizens far away, often without regard to their welfare or benefit. Everyone has heard from school about the Stamp Act and the Townshend Acts, and how the Boston Tea Party and other incidents led to the war for independence – but what about the White Pine Act?

The British Crown first passed the White Pine Act in 1691 for Massachusetts, making it a crime to cut down and retain logs from a white pine tree more than one foot in diameter, without the King’s mark and permission. Such trees were designated solely for the use of the British Navy, used as masts for the King’s ships. In January 1770, the Crown extended this law to New Hampshire, and all of New England.

Courtesy Library of Congress

Since white pine is one of the most plentiful trees in New Hampshire, this law posed a severe hardship to the sawmills along the Merrimack River. The law was extended to all of New England. The sawyers could be arrested, fined, and the Crown could seize the fruit of their labors. Ebenezer Muggeridge was among those targeted, and he incited a rebellion.

Another little-known fact is that during the Revolutionary War, George Washington had a detachment known as Washington’s Honor Guard, whose job was to protect him on the battlefield. Though soldiers had to be sixteen or older to be selected for the guard, some drummer boys were as young as ten. They were in the thick of battle, without weapons, relaying the orders of Washington and other officers via their drums. One of these youngsters was Muggeridge’s ward, Billy Sims. What follows is an excerpt from my upcoming novel, Washington’s Drummer Boy, based in part on a newspaper account of the White Pine Rebellion, and Billy’s exploits.

April 1772 Weare, New Hampshire

Bill Simpson looked up from the bench where he was pulling a drawknife on a piece of oak. Three approaching horsemen clattered into the dooryard, two of them red-coated soldiers. Being only eight years old, it wasn’t his job to meet them, but he was intensely curious – what would redcoats want with the master of the mill, Ebenezer Mudgett? He pretended to keep working while listening to hear all he could.

“Master Mudgett! I am John Sherburn, deputy surveyor for His Excellency Royal Governor Wentworth.”

“Good day, to you, sir. And what does the Crown need this time?”

“Masts for His Majesty’s ships.  You, sir, have white pine logs above one foot in diameter, the very kind needed for those masts. And,” paused Sherburn, “you do not have a license to possess them! Guards, scour the shop!”

Bill brushed back sweat into his curly black hair, despite the cold. He remembered the pine he’d placed behind the barn, right where Pa directed. Had he covered it well enough? He worked with Ebenezer in the woods – didn’t these lobsters realize that at least a third of the trees in the forest were white pine? If they found it, would Pa be angry?

The soldiers began ransacking the shop, opening closets, climbing up to the loft, looking behind the building, even searching under the horses’ straw.

“Surely, you must be mistaken, sir. Perhaps a record is mislaid? Of course, I could make the masts that the Crown requires if desired.”

“His Majesty’s shipwrights would be amused. But you will not be if my men find that white pine. You know well that all white pines of that size belong to the Crown, for the last fifty years.”

“Oh, I know well enough. The Crown takes the best trees and the bread from my family’s mouth, all without a by your leave.”

A woman entered from the side door. “What is it, Ebenezer? Are these guests? You didn’t tell me you had invited anyone.”

“Miriam, it’s no concern to you. These are the King’s men, not guests. They’ve come to inspect.”

“Inspect? Inspect what? Has the King a sudden interest in wood shavings and our stables?” She pushed an errant gray hair back under her coif and wiped a hand on her white apron.

“Sir!” One of the soldiers rushed forward. “We’ve found them – ten white pine logs, hidden out behind the barn. They do not have the King’s arrow mark. And some more pieces are sawn,” gesturing at the sash saw.

“Very good, corporal.” He made a slight bow in Miriam’s direction and followed the soldiers.

Ebenezer tensed. “What’s wrong, sir?” asked Bill. The horses and I put those logs just where you said. Covered them well to keep the rain and snow off.”

“The problem, my young apprentice, is that the King thinks he owns everything.”

The soldiers and Sherburn returned. “Arrest this man! Take him to Sheriff Whiting. And make sure to mark those logs with the King’s symbol.”

Miriam rushed forward. “Please don’t take my husband!”

Bill dropped his work. Sir, my Pa has done nothing but try to make a living. I put the logs there – take me! Please don’t hurt him. You can’t take him. You can’t!”

“I’m afraid I must – the King’s law is clear.”

“Never mind, my dear. I’m sure it won’t be for long. Send Bill for my brother, and we’ll see about these laws.”

✽✽✽

Bill rushed through the snow, down the path leading to the home of John Mudgett, brother to his master. His mind whirled -if the British took Pa, how would the mill survive?  Tall for his age at five feet, his strides lengthened in a hurry. Ebenezer was officially his master but had been a father to him after his own died. His mother in Rockingham parceled out her children, having no means to support them. Bill felt lucky to have a kind and God-fearing master. What would they do to him? The freezing air bit his lungs as he ran, falling once on the ice, and picking himself up again. Clouds poured out from his mouth and hung in the air as he breathed hard, rounded the corner of the barn, and pounded on the door of the whitewashed frame house.

“Uncle John! Uncle John!” he yelled.

The door opened, and Rose, the Mudgett’s slave housekeeper, caught his hand in mid-knock.

“What’s all the fuss and feathers, Marse Bill? Marse John is out doin’ the milkin’.”

“The British have taken my master!”

“Oh, Lawd! I’ll fetch Marse John.”

She darted to the barn and came back with a portly red-haired man, wiping his hands on a milking apron.

“What’s all this? Why would the lobsters take my brother?”

“He got some white pine. The governor says it’s the King’s. That’s all I know. Miz Miriam says to come quick.”

“All right. Rose, you’ll have to finish the milking. I’ll hitch up the sleigh. Tell Clara I may be home late.”

Within minutes, Bill and John were flying down the road behind a pair of matched trotters. The snow blew up in a mist behind them. Bill pulled the laprobe more tightly about him. There had been no time for getting hot bricks, and his feet were numb from the cold.

“Who was it that came, boy?”

“Soldiers – and that new man, Sherburn, I think his name was.”

“Sherburn, eh? A troublemaker if ever I knew one. How much pine did my brother have?”

“Only ten logs or so.”

“Hmm, well, not so much. If we’re lucky, they’ll let him off with a fine.”

“What if they don’t, sir?”

“Don’t you worry about that. Leave it to your elders. And pray.”

They pulled into the dooryard, and John leaped down, handing the reins to Bill.

“Miriam! Has there been any word?”

Miriam came slowly into the yard, head down. Bill’s heart clinched – she looked to have been crying. He wanted to run to her, but held still, holding the horses.

“No, John, no word. I mustn’t leave the other children. But I’m frantic to know what’s happening. You don’t think they would… would they?”

“No, of course, they wouldn’t.” Bill caught the hesitancy in his adopted uncle’s voice. “Don’t worry, Miriam. I’ll spread the word to the other mills, and see what’s happened with Ebenezer. Have you any ready cash?”

“Very little. I have this note for forty shillings. Aside from that, we have accounts owed for work to be completed. The good Lord alone knows how we will do without Ebenezer …”

“Trust in God, Miriam, and I will return soon.”

John took the forty shilling note and stuffed it in a pocket. Bill handed back the reins, and they were off again. They stopped at several other mills along the river. At each stop, John spoke in hushed tones to the mill master, and then on they went again.

When they finally arrived in town, John went to the lockup and asked for the Sheriff.

“When might Sheriff Whiting be available?”

“When he returns from his supper, sir. May be of help to you?”

“I’m here concerning Ebenezer Mudgett.”

“Ah, well. Nothing I can do there. He’s bound over to the magistrate.”

“I’ll just step over to Quimby’s Inn, then. Will you advise me when the Sheriff returns?”

“Bless you, sir, and he’s likely over there himself. Can’t say he’d like you disturbing his victuals, though.”

“Much obliged, sir.”

Turning to the sleigh, he tied off the horses and bid Bill follow.

Bill jumped down from the sleigh and wondered what good it would do to talk to the Sheriff. Hadn’t John said that Pa was already bound over, whatever that meant? It didn’t sound right. They stamped their feet to clear off the snow and pushed open the plank door. A rush of heat hit them from the large central fireplace. There were perhaps ten round tables, each with a coal oil lamp. Only three had patrons. At one sat a florid, overweight man, having an intimate meeting with roast mutton and johnnycakes. The dark paneled wall reflected dancing flames from the fire and the lamps, and at the far end was a bar with stools, and large kegs of beer.

“Sheriff Whiting?”

The Sheriff looked up between bites, annoyed. “Yes? What is it? Can’t a man finish a meal in peace?”

“When a man may conduct his business in peace, perhaps so. You’ve taken my brother Ebenezer into custody?”

“Yes. Crown law. He’ll stand trial.”

“Have you ever known him to cause trouble before?”

“Well, no. Except for some talk about the governor.”

“And should his wife, children and this poor boy here,” gesturing at Bill,” suffer for some loose talk? Can you not release him until the hearing? He has a business to run. He isn’t going anywhere.”

“He owes one pound fifteen shillings fine for the trees.”

“And pray sir, how can he pay that from the lockup? There is unfinished work at the mill. If you will but release him, we shall have the fine by the morrow.”

“You’ll sign for that?”

“Yes, if you require it.”

“I do. Meet me at the lockup in fifteen minutes. Now go away.”

Bill was tempted to dump a pitcher of water on the Sheriff but resisted the urge.

They stood by the stove at the lockup, waiting for the Sheriff’s return. It was more like half an hour than fifteen minutes, but there was little else to do. When the Sheriff waddled in, the deputy bobbed and scraped, and went down in the holes to fetch the prisoner. After a few minutes, Ebenezer emerged, face dirty, rubbing his wrists. It was all Bill could do not to fly to him and throw his arms around him. That would seem childish, however.

John bent over a high table, signing papers with quill and ink.

“Tomorrow morning, then,” said Sheriff Whiting.

Ebenezer said, “I thank you for releasing me tonight. We’ll be sure to be here tomorrow to give the King his just due.”

✽✽✽

Ebenezer climbed into the sleigh. He held the boy at arm’s length, just looking into my eyes, and then drew Bill into a hug, not caring who saw. John clicked to the horses, who recognized they were headed home and went at a fast trot. The men gazed at the deepening evening in silence. Bill couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“What will happen, Pa? Will you pay them? And where will we get more trees? The soldiers used hatchets and marked an arrow on each of the ones we have.”

“Don’t worry your head. There are other trees. And yes, we will pay for them. Oh, we will pay for them!”

John looked over at his brother with a grim smile.

When they arrived back at the mill, though it was evening and just before chore time, the dooryard was full of horses and men, instead of the usual evening quiet, there was an uproar as twenty men tried to talk at once.

Ebenezer turned to Bill. “Bill, I want you to stay out of this. Tend the horses, mind your Ma, and go to bed. Say your prayers. Don’t mind the noise. Do you hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bill got down and unhitched the horses, taking them to the barn for a rubdown and feed. His uncle would need them to go home. He was following orders – but that didn’t mean he had to hurry. One advantage of being young he found was that adults often told him something, and then forgot about it. Bill heated some water on the stove, so that it was lukewarm, then gave it to the horses to drink. The dappled gray slurped greedily, and Bill had to hold him back. The bay patiently waited his turn, nibbling at the hay. Once they both had water, Bill mixed a bran mash, and gave that to them, while rubbing and drying them, and straining his ears to listen.

“The Crown has gone too far. We’ve had this highway robbery for fifty years. Previous governors did not enforce it. Now the surveyor is sending soldiers into the forest, marking trees. What happens when they decide white pines aren’t all they want, as if that wasn’t bad enough?”

Another man yelled, “Wentworth and his thugs have done enough!”

Pa spoke – Bill recognized the voice. “Men, we’ve resisted. We’ve written letters. We’ve tried to tell the King what we think of his taxes and fees. We got the Townshend repealed. If we stand still, the King will put his boot on our necks.”

Another voice spoke, calmer, but able to be heard – Bill thought he recognized the reverend. Finishing with the horses, instead of going in the house, he climbed the ladder to the loft and opened the hay doors slightly so that he could look out and hear without being seen. The reverend of the Congregational Church spoke, raising his arms for quiet.

“Brothers, you know that the Scriptures tell us to obey our government. The King must obey God, and we must obey the King. I urge you to consider carefully before starting something that cannot end well. The Bible says to pay tax to whom tax is due, honor to whom honor is due. Take care, lest we are on the wrong side of God.”

The men in the yard glowered at the reverend. Ebenezer stepped forward again, mounting a box.

“The Bible also says there is a time to obey God rather than man. Neighbors, you know me to be a peaceful man. I have paid taxes to the Crown while insisting that they have no right to tax Englishmen who have no vote on the matter. Enough is enough. We must feed our families. It is time to pay King George in something other than a coin. Who’s with me?”

Shouts resounded around the yard.

“All right then. Meet here an hour before first light. Bring ropes and torches. It’s time that King George got a taste of what true Englishmen think of his taxes.”

When Bill awoke the next morning, he saw the shadowy figures of Ebenezer and Miriam moving about the kitchen as he looked down from the loft bed he shared with the Mudgett girls, Achsah and Sarah. The girls still slept, but Ebenezer was up and dressed. Dawn was peeking above the trees, spreading pink and orange tints to the clouds. Bill dressed quietly and descended the ladder.

“Ma, what’s happening so early?”

Miriam started, then shushed him. “Why aren’t you asleep? This will be a busy day.”

Looking out the window, Bill saw buggies and horses in the yard, along with a collection of men, all armed.

Miriam smiled. “The one day we tell you to go back to bed instead of starting chores, and you are too curious. Very well. Pa is going to pay the British. The other men are going along to protest. Now go get some rest.”

“But Ma… if Pa is going, I want to go too.”

“No, that would be too dangerous. He doesn’t want you to draw any more attention to yourself than you did yesterday, speaking out of turn. Children are to be seen and not heard,” she reproved.

“All right, after I go to the privy.”

Bill opened the latch on the door, shoved it open, and stepped out into the frosty morning. In case Ma was watching, he moved toward the privy, entered, and waited a minute, holding his nose. When he came out, he went to the workshop, flitting from tree to tree. He got his work coat that he kept on a peg there, and again climbed to the loft where he could observe. The men were talking too quietly to hear, but he saw that their faces were smudged with soot and bootblack, making it difficult to see who was who.

He recognized Pa and saw the wagon off to the side that they used for deliveries, hitched, and ready to go. He quickly climbed down, went to the stove, and used ashes from the bin to obscure his face, just as the older men had done. Then he looked, saw the men occupied, and ran to the back of the wagon. He hopped in and covered himself with a tarp so that no one would notice him.

He wanted to peek out but forced himself to lie still. Whatever Pa was going to do, Bill wanted to be there.

After what seemed an hour, when his toes were going numb, he felt the wagon lurch and begin to move. Looking out the back, a line of horses, buggies, and wagons followed, like some equine caterpillar with twenty legs following after Pa. Why would all these men come, just to watch Pa pay a fine?

A bump and hard jolt made him bang his head on the wagon bottom, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

Eventually, the wagon rolled to a stop. Bill lifted the tarp just an inch to see out and waited until the other wagons grouped around them. They were in front of a house. When the other men had dismounted and gathered around Pa, he slipped out the back, onto the new-fallen snow, and took up a post behind a nearby tree.

Ebenezer pounded on the door, then wrenched it open, breaking the latch. The men boiled through the entrance into the house. Bill thought, no one is going to mind me, since they don’t know I am here. If I stand just inside, I can see and hear. If something happens to Pa, I can take word home.

Bill saw Sheriff Whiting, still in his nightclothes.

“Here, what’s all this? Who are you? By the King’s wig, what’s the meaning of this?”

“We’re here to pay King Georgie his fines and taxes,” said one.

“Very well, but you needn’t break-in, and you could have waited until after breakfast.”

“Oh, we’re very prompt to give the King and his servants their due.”

The men crowded closer, raising clubs.

Whiting blanched and moved backward to the wall, grabbing a brace of pistols from a hook. “Stand back, or I will shoot!” He aimed the pistol squarely at Ebenezer’s chest. Bill feared for his Pa and grabbed an iron from the nearby stove. In confusion, he raced behind the men up the stairway, to where he stood above the Sheriff. Whiting cocked the pistol. Bill dropped the hot iron, aimed to strike the pistol or chest of the Sheriff, who yelled and dropped the pistol in surprise and pain.

The men surged forward, seizing the Sheriff, and tying his hands behind his back. They ripped open the back of his shirt, and bent him over a table, clubbing and whipping him until he cried for mercy.

“Take that payment to King George and the governor, if you will. Tell Wentworth that if he comes, we’ll do the same to him. We’ll not tolerate the tyranny of the King any longer. True Englishmen know their rights. If he does not, then we must teach him.”

Bill crept back down the stairs and again stood near the door. One of the men turned, went to the stables and saddled a horse for the Sheriff. He clipped the mane and tail of the horse, making him look a very sorry beast. They propelled the Sheriff toward the door. But Bill wasn’t quick enough – Ebenezer and the Sheriff saw him at the same time.

“So this is the kind of brigands you are! You even bring a child into your devilry!”

The Sheriff looked more closely at Ebenezer. “You must be Mudgett, who was bringing the fine today – and this must be your boy. I’ll mark it well!”

“If you don’t get on that horse and ride far away, we’ll mark you again!” yelled one of the men.

Whiting mounted with help and whirled the horse out of the yard.

Pa turned his attention to Bill. “I don’t know whether to thrash you or hug you. It was a near thing in there, and you saved us all from bloodshed. But you should have stayed home. Now that you and I are recognized, we’re in danger. Let’s make haste for home, and pray about what to do.”

If you enjoyed this, and would like to be notified when the full novel is published, please visit http://www.historicalnovelsrus.com/contact and sign up for my newsletter. – Michael Ross

 

The Battle of Eutaw Springs

After the Battle of Monmouth on June 28, 1778, the American Revolutionary War lulled in the north where British General Sir Henry Clinton was stationed with a large part of his army in New York. King George III and the British Parliament turned their eyes on the American South and sent their armies where a civil war raged between American Loyalists and Patriots.

In response, the Continental Congress, the Patriot civilian governing body sent Generals Robert Howe, Benjamin Lincoln, and Horatio Gates respectively who from 1778 – 1780 lost Savannah, Georgia; Charleston, South Carolina; and Camden, South Carolina to the British.

Congress’ previous choices to command the Southern Army failed. Now, they left the choice to General George Washington. He chose his ablest major general: Nathanael Greene. Nathanael’s brilliant strategy, wore down the British army in the South commanded by General Lord Charles Cornwallis. After months of chasing Greene’s army, which lost every engagement except the battle at Cowpens, South Carolina, Cornwallis  abandoned Georgia and the Carolinas and retreated with his exhausted and starving army into Virginia. Then, Nathanael systematically destroyed the British outposts, supply lines, and communication lines between the British holding Savannah and Charleston, and the rest of South Carolina.

Major General Nathanael Greene

In late August 1781, Nathanael learned that British Colonel Alexander Stewart was moving through central South Carolina and he intended to put a stop to it. On August 23, he marched his army out of the High Hills of Santee looking for a fight.

On September 7, after weeks of mucking through swamps and heavy rains, the Southern Army arrived at Burdell’s Plantation seven miles from Eutaw Springs, South Carolina where Stewart was camped with 1,500 men. During their march, Nathanael’s army picked up militia under Francis Marion, Andrew Pickens and Francois de Malmedy. Cavalry Colonel William Washington also reunited with them swelling the army to nearly 2,400 men. Nathanael ordered his troops to cook one day’s provisions and allowed them a gill of rum. They would attack in the morning.

On September 8, just before dawn, Nathanael’s army marched toward the enemy. At 7:00 a.m., they saw white tents near a brick mansion. Behind the mansion, springs drained into Eutaw Creek which flowed into the Santee River. A British foraging party was rooting for sweet potatoes when the American vanguard spotted them. Stewart sent cavalry Major John Coffin with a forward detachment. They skirmished with Colonel “Light-Horse” Harry Lee’s legion. Colonel Otho Holland Williams ordered “Move in the order of battle and halt.”

Colonel Otho Holland Williams

The order of battle was familiar: militia up front, with orders to fire and fall back. This placed the militiamen from North Carolina and South Carolina in front with Colonel Harry Lee’s legion and reinforcements from Francis Marion and Andrew Pickens. Behind the militia, Continentals, men from Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina formed the line. Nathanael held Washington’s cavalry and Colonel Robert Kirkwood’s Delaware company in reserve. Stewart posted a single main line of defense to the west. His 63rd and 64th Regiments of Foot looked directly across at Francis Marion.

General Francis Marion

Stewart’s 3rd Regiment of Foot held the right of his line. His center was anchored with Loyalist brigades from New York and New Jersey. Musket fire exploded from both sides of the line. Continental 2lb grasshoppers boomed. The Virginia and Maryland regiments drove toward the brick mansion in a race to get inside before the British. The British won shouldering the door closed against the Americans pushing from the other side. American troops surged through the British camp and tripped over tent ropes and stakes. British marksmen opened fire. The Americans tried to dislodge the British with unsuccessful cannon fire.

Major John Marjoribanks tried to hold the British right flank. Nathanael ordered Colonel William Washington to push against Marjoribanks. The British in the mansion raked Washington and his men. Washington’s horse was shot out from underneath him. He was bayonetted and taken prisoner. Colonel John Eager Howard of Maryland was shot in the collar bone. Colonel Richard Campbell of Virginia was mortally shot in the chest. Harry Lee’s deputy executed an unsuccessful charge. Nathanael’s army was suffering debilitating losses and his men were scattered across the field.

Colonel William Washington

After four hours of fighting he called a retreat and rallied his bloodied exhausted forces in the woods. Losses that day totaled 1,400. Both sides claimed victory. After destroying their firearms, Stewart retreated toward Charleston. Nathanael’s army returned to the High Hills of Santee. Nathanael praised his soldiers and the militia to Congress. He was awarded a Congressional Gold Medal of Honor bearing his likeness. Otho Holland Williams was awarded a sword. The Battle of Eutaw Springs was the last significant land battle of the Revolutionary War.

A month after the battle, due to General Nathanael Greene and his army’s perseverance and sacrifice, the British general he had chased out of the Carolinas, Lord Charles Cornwallis, surrendered to Franco/American forces under General George Washington at Yorktown, Virginia on October 19, 1781.

Marker erected by the Daughters of the American Revolution Eutaw Chapter

Eutaw Springs a poem by Philip Freneau (1752–1832) First published in the Freeman’s Journal, November 21, 1781

AT Eutaw Springs the valiant died:

Their limbs with dust are covered o’er—

Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide;

How many heroes are no more!

Marker depicting the grave of British Major John Marjoribanks who died from wounds received at Eutaw Springs

 

My biographical novel about General Nathanael Greene title “The Line of Splendor: A Novel of Nathanael Greene and the American Revolution” is available Amazon. Click the cover to get your copy!


Resources:

Beakes, John H. Jr. Otho Holland Williams in The American Revolution. Charleston, South Carolina: The Nautical and Aviation Publishing Co. of American, 2015

Beakes, John H. Jr. and Piecuch, Jim. Cool Deliberate Courage: John Eager Howard in the American Revolution.  Heritage Books, 2009

Buchannan, John. The Road to Charleston. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2019

Carbone, Gerald M. Nathanael Greene A Biography of the American Revolution, 2008.

Golway, Terry. Washington’s General Nathanael Greene and the Triumph of the American Revolution. New York: Henry Holt and Company

Greene, George Washington. The Life of Nathanael Greene, Major General in the Army of the Revolution.3 Volumes. New York: Hurd and Houghton. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1871

Thayer, Theodore. Nathanael Greene Strategist of the American Revolution. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1960