Saturday, August 17, 2019

They were so hounded by Rebel neighbors that many men spent the next four years hiding in woods and swamps

Finally getting around to posting some excerpts from The Road to Guilford Courthouse by John Buchanan, an account of the last year or so of the American Revolution and the Southern Campaign. I purchased this book two or three years ago and finished it sometime in the past year. Excellent historical story-telling, packed with information and new insights. Thoroughly enjoyed it.

In the past year or so, based on my genealogical research, I am now aware of nearly half-a-dozen ancestors and family members who fought in this battle, some from Tennessee, some from Virginia, at least one from New Jersey.

I don't recall exactly which book it is, perhaps Redcoats and Rebels by Christopher Hibbert, but some historians have commented to the effect that the Southern Campaign was, to some extent, a mere transference of historical conflicts from the British Isles to the Americas. In particular, conflicts between English, Lowland Scots, Highland Scots, and Border Reivers.

An instance of which is intimated in the following account from page 4.
Clinton’s primary objective was Charleston, the most important southern port and then the richest city in North America. But the Royal governor of North Carolina, Josiah Martin, had convinced British authorities that on the way North Carolina could also be reclaimed for the King. Clinton’s mission seemed to the King and his ministers rather simple. As Sir Henry Clinton described it, “For it seems that the governors of those provinces had sent home such sanguine and favorable accounts of the loyal disposition of numbers of their inhabitants, especially in the back country, that the administration was induced to believe ‘that nothing was wanting but the appearance of a respectable force there to encourage the King’s friends to show themselves, when it was expected they would soon be able to prevail over’” the Rebels.
Hard to keep an appropriate perspective. Were you to have asked me which was the richest American City in 1780, I would listed Boston, Philadelphia, and New York before I'd have guessed Charleston.
At Cape Fear the British intended to link up with Tory forces from the interior, especially the Scottish Highlanders settled in the vicinity of Cross Creek, about 100 miles from the coast. Much was expected of these legendary fighters, who set out for the sea on 20 February 1776 following a stirring speech by their commander, Brigadier General Donald MacDonald. By 26 February, in the middle of a swampy landscape, they learned that six miles in front of them about 1,000 Rebels were entrenched in front of Moore’s Creek Bridge, well armed with muskets and the two cannon they had named “Old Mother Covington and her daughter.” By then General MacDonald, reputed to be almost seventy, was too ill to continue in active command. At a council of war MacDonald argued for caution, but the young bloods among his officers prevailed over the opinions of an old, sick man. The decision was made to attack at dawn. General MacDonald’s impetuous deputy, Lieutenant Colonel Donald McLeod, took command. Although the Tories numbered about 1,600, only 500 had firearms.

They marched at 1 o’clock on the morning of 27 February. At the bridge they found empty entrenchments. The Rebels had withdrawn and formed on the other side of Moore’s Creek, which was about fifty feet wide. An advance party discovered that about half of the bridge’s planks had been removed and the two stringers greased with soap and tallow. That made no difference to Donald McLeod. Elan would carry the day. About eighty men armed with broadswords were formed in the center to act as an assault force under Captain John Campbell. “King George and Broad Swords” was the rallying cry. As they had done so often in the old country, to the beat of drums, to the keening of the great war pipes, the Highlanders charged into disaster. Following McLeod on one stringer and Campbell on the other the broadswordsmen made their precarious way across the bridge. The Rebels let McLeod and Campbell reach their side of the creek. Then, at close range, Old Mother Covington and her daughter boomed and muskets roared. Not a Highlander was left standing on the bridge. Some fell between the stringers into Moore’s Creek and drowned. McLeod and Campbell were killed immediately, although it was said that Donald McLeod half rose and pointed his sword at the Rebel works only a few feet away before he was hit again and fell forever. Thirty dead were later counted but there were probably more at the creek bottom and in the swamps. Their fate convinced their comrades to run far and fast, but for most it was neither far enough nor fast enough. The pursuing Rebels, who had two men wounded, one of whom later died, took about 850 prisoners, including the ailing General Donald MacDonald.

That short fight should have been a warning to the British, but it was not heeded in London among those who made important decisions. The Highlanders, however, did pay heed. Not only soundly defeated, they were so hounded by Rebel neighbors that many men spent the next four years hiding in woods and swamps. London, however, maintained the hope that they would rise again once a British army appeared among them, and the threat of another rising could not be ignored by the Rebels.
British Generals McLeod and MacDonald and Captain Campbell, highland Scots all, leading American Scottish settlers against the Rebels, many of whom were Lowland Scots.


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