Near Morristown, New Jersey

March 23, 1781

CHAPTER XXIX

* * *

A raw March wind ruffled the mane and tail of Eli’s horse as he pulled it to a stop before the log home that served as headquarters for General Washington in the camp of the Continental Army at Morristown, New Jersey. He dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post, stopped at the door facing the picket, and spoke.

“Eli Stroud to report a scout to General Washington.”

The picket’s forehead wrinkled in question. He was looking at a tall man with a strong nose and a three-inch scar on his left jawline, dressed in buckskin leggings, Indian moccasins, and beaded doeskin hunting shirt. The man’s hair was long and tied back, and his beard heavy. With mounting suspicion, the picket eyed the black tomahawk thrust into the weapons belt and stammered, “Scout? When? Where?”

“Washington sent me out nine weeks ago to scout down south. Told me to report to him directly when I got back. I’m back.”

The picket’s mouth fell open for a moment. “South? How far?”

“South Carolina.”

The picket recoiled in disbelief. “You been clean down to South Carolina?”

“Is the general here?”

“Inside, but I don’t—”

“If it’s all the same to you, I got a written message from General Greene, and I think General Washington’s waiting for it.”

The picket turned on his heel and opened the door for Eli and they entered a small anteroom. “Leave your weapons here,” he said. Eli stood his rifle in the corner and hung his weapons on a peg, and the two walked to a door on the right side of the foyer. The picket rapped and came to attention.

“Enter.”

Moments later Eli was standing before a scarred desk facing a grim and weary General Washington. The General gestured, and Eli drew up a chair to sit opposite him.

“I am glad to see you safely back,” the General said.

Eli nodded but remained silent, and General Washington continued. “I take it the Southern states were new to you?”

“They were. And the people. Different.”

“Did you find General Greene?”

Eli nodded and drew a document from his shirt. “He sent this.”

Washington removed the oilskin wrap, broke the blue wax seal, laid it on the desk top, and silently read.

. . . . With the invaluable cooperation of colonels Marion and Sumter, on March 15, 1781, we engaged the British forces of General Cornwallis at a small place in North Carolina called the Guilford Courthouse. After a warm exchange, I withdrew my command rather than risk them further. However, I believe we accomplished our objective since British losses were ninety-three dead, four hundred thirteen wounded, and many missing. We suffered seventy-eight dead and one hundred ninety-five wounded. Thus, while we yielded the field to them, their losses were more than twice ours. It is my judgment that we have critically reduced General Cornwallis’s ability to go forward with his now obvious design to move north into Virginia and the Chesapeake Bay. For that reason, I am determined to carry the war immediately into South Carolina.

Washington glanced at the small calendar on his desk.

“That battle was fought March fifteenth? Eight days ago?”

“Yes.”

“Did you observe it?”

“I was in it. I came from there, directly here.”

“I’d like to know the particulars.”

“I’ll need a map.”

Washington pointed, Eli walked to a table against a wall, and returned with a scroll. They unrolled it on Washington’s desk, and Eli studied it for a moment before continuing, pointing as he spoke.

“To understand the Guilford fight, you’ve got to know what happened after Morgan took down Tarleton at Cowpens. Here.” He pointed.

“The day after the Cowpens battle, Tarleton reported to Cornwallis. He was at Turkey Creek, here, twenty-five miles from Cowpens. Cornwallis spent two days waiting for Leslie to get there with more troops and some heavy wagons and cannon. Leslie was late, and Cornwallis couldn’t wait longer, so he marched to the Little Broad River, here. Thought he’d find Morgan at the river getting ready to attack the British at a little town called Ninety-six. But Morgan was going the other way, toward Ramsour’s Mill, here. When his scouts told him, Cornwallis started to follow but found out Morgan had covered just over one hundred miles and crossed two rivers in just five days.”

Eli stopped for a moment to read names on the map.

“So Cornwallis stopped at Ramsour’s Mill and used two more days, burning his own wagons and heavy equipment. Tents, food, all of it. Smashed about fifteen or twenty barrels of rum.”

Washington started, then leaned forward, blue-gray eyes intense. “You say Cornwallis burned his own equipment?”

“Yes. Figured it was slowing him down too much to catch Morgan. If Morgan could travel light and fast, Cornwallis figured he could to it, too. Cooked up some food and had his men put it in their backpacks, and burned everything else.”

Washington leaned back.

Eli went on. “It was there at Ramsour’s Mill that Cornwallis decided to go after Greene instead of Morgan, and he marched for Cheraw Hills where Greene was camped. I scouted for Greene and told him Cornwallis was coming, so he moved his whole camp and all supplies north, just over the Dan River, here, at the Virginia border. Then Greene asked me to take him to Morgan, so we rode out together with a few cavalry. Covered one hundred twenty-five miles in two days. Greene sat down with Morgan and laid out his new plan.”

Washington held up a hand. “One hundred twenty-five miles in two days?”

Eli nodded, waited for a moment, and continued.

“Greene’s new plan was simple. Hang off out ahead of Cornwallis, just out of gun range, and draw him as far north, into Virginia, as he could. Greene’s supplies and equipment were up there, and Cornwallis’s supplies were clear back down in South Carolina. What was worse for Cornwallis, to catch Greene he’d have to cross four major rivers, here. The Catawba, Yadkin, Deep, and Dan, and Greene figured to ambush Cornwallis’s troops at every ford.”

Eli paused to order his thoughts. “Morgan was concerned about all this. He figured it was too risky. Might be better to get away from Cornwallis and take him on later when they were better prepared. But Greene went ahead with his plan, caught the British crossing the Catawba, here at Cowan’s Ford, and did some heavy damage.”

Eli stopped long enough to locate the small village of Guilford on the map.

“By that time Isaac Huger had joined Greene and Morgan, and altogether Greene had over four thousand men in his command. Cornwallis had about two thousand, so Greene figured he could finally take him on in a head-on fight. He picked Guilford for the battle, but to get there Greene had to take his troops across the Dan River. Cornwallis heard of all this and figured to get to the river first and stop Greene before he got to Guilford. There was a race for the Dan, and Greene won. Crossed the river and set up his troops near the courthouse. Cornwallis had little choice but to cross and go on to Guilford if he intended destroying Greene’s command.”

Washington interrupted. “Can you give me the battle order used by General Greene?”

“A copy of the one used by Morgan at Cowpens. Militia up front, Continentals behind. The militia were ordered to fire two volleys and fall back to let the Continentals with their rifles take on the British.”

“The result?”

“Cornwallis attacked Greene’s positions, and it worked just about like Greene figured it would. When the battle ended, the British had lost about five hundred fifty troops, including twenty-nine officers, and Greene about two hundred sixty. No question who won the fight, but it was Greene who withdrew and gave the field to Cornwallis.”

Washington asked, “Greene withdrew? Gave the victory to Cornwallis? Why?”

“Figured he’d done what he set out to do, which was to stop Cornwallis in his tracks and cripple his army a long way from home. He’d taken down about one fourth of Cornwallis’s troops, and figured he’d seriously crippled any plans Cornwallis had for taking Virginia. He didn’t want to risk losing more of his own troops, maybe his whole command, so he drew them off to Troublesome Creek, here. He knew Cornwallis had burned all his food and supplies clear back at Ramsour’s Mill, and the only way he was going to feed his army was to get back down to his supply base in South Carolina.”

Eli stopped to straighten, then sat down. “So, Cornwallis retreated. He couldn’t do anything else. He claimed victory at Guilford because Greene gave him the battlefield, but it was Cornwallis that took the beating. Greene did exactly what he set out to do. He drove Cornwallis out of Virginia and North Carolina, clear back to South Carolina.”

Washington leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers across his chest, caught up for a moment in deep thought. “Remarkable.” He leaned forward once again. “You haven’t mentioned Morgan. Is he safe?”

“Caught a fever, and rheumatism crippled him bad. He had to leave. May have fought his last battle.”

A wistful look came into Washington’s eyes, and for a time he sat still, remembering. Then he spoke once again.

“Do you have any information regarding how the citizenry down there view General Greene? Are they hostile?”

Eli shook his head. “The other way around. Greene has called in every militia leader down there—Marion, Sumter, Pickens, Davie, Davidson—all of them, and talked with them. Told them he’s not down there to take over. Asked their advice. Told them they were critical to winning. He’d try to back them up just as fast as he could if they’d move against the British. Word got out in the countryside, and people down there are coming to support Greene any way they can. Greene is a good man.”

Washington drew a great breath, and let it out slowly, and Eli saw the tremendous wave of relief flood through him. Washington tapped the message from Greene, still on his desktop.

“And now Greene intends following Cornwallis down into South Carolina to harass him there. I’ll do everything I can to support him.”

Washington rolled the map and laid it aside. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes. I lost track of my friend, Billy Weems. I was told his company volunteered to go down there, and I looked for him. Didn’t have enough time to find him. Can I go back down and find him?”

Washington saw the deep need in Eli, and for a time he stared at his hands, pondering, before he made the only decision he could.

“For now, I wish you would stay here. I don’t know what will develop down there. I don’t know when I’ll need you again. As soon as I can, I will send you back down, and you can stay until you find him.”

Eli could not hide the disappointment. “I’ll stay. Anything else?”

“No. Nothing more than my personal commendation for your report. You are dismissed.”

Notes

The battle at Guilford Courthouse was a critical turning point in the campaign for the South because the loss of five hundred fifty of his troops and twenty-nine officers left General Cornwallis badly crippled in his plan to invade Virginia and take the Chesapeake. Eli Stroud is a fictional character; however, every other name in this chapter is that of a participant in that battle and the events leading up to it. The names of all rivers are accurate, and the sequence of actions by both sides is historical. At the conclusion of the battle, General Nathanael Greene did write a letter to General Washington, and it was delivered by special courier to Washington just days later. In said letter, Greene announced his intention to “ . . . carry the war immediately into South Carolina,” as reported herein. Because of age and heavy physical infirmities that crippled him, this was the last battle fought by the heroic General Daniel Morgan (Leckie, George Washington’s War, pp. 604–19; Lumpkin, From Savannah to Yorktown, pp. 163–75; Higginbotham, The War of American Independence, pp. 368–71).

The peculiar name “Ninety-six” was given to a small village in South Carolina because it is located exactly ninety-six miles from the next Indian village, named Keowee (Lumpkin, From Savannah to Yorktown, p. 192).