Hero Stories from American History - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel Hero Stories from American History Part 11 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
The young wife taught her husband to believe in G.o.d, and to trust in prayer. In his simple-hearted way, Morgan tells us that, just before the fierce attack on the fort at Quebec, he knelt in the drifting snow, and felt that G.o.d had nerved him to fight.
In riding over the battlefield after his great victory at Cowpens, old soldiers saw with wonder the fierce fighter stop his horse and pray aloud, and, with tears running down his face, thank G.o.d for the victory.
{112} His men never scoffed at their leader's prayers, for it was noticed that the harder "old Dan Morgan" prayed, the more certain they were of being soon led into the jaws of death itself.
Meanwhile, he and his young bride were thrifty and prosperous. They were both ignorant of books, but they studied early and late to make up for lost time. For the next nine years, Morgan, with his household treasures,--his good wife, and his two little daughters,--lived in the pure atmosphere of a Christian home.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Riflemen treating with Indians in the Wilderness of Virginia]
The storm cloud of the Revolution was now gathering thick and fast.
Events followed each other with startling rapidity. Morgan watched keenly. He never did anything in a half-hearted way; and we may be sure that he took up the cause of the Revolution with all the fervor of his strong nature.
After the bloodshed at Lexington, the Continental Congress called for ten companies from Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia. Morgan received his commission as captain, five days after Bunker Hill. When he shouted, "Come, boys, who's for the camp before Cambridge?" every man in his section turned out.
In less than ten days, Morgan at the head of ninety-six expert riflemen started for Boston. It was six hundred miles away, but they marched the distance in twenty-one days without the loss of a single man.
One day as Washington was riding out to inspect the redoubts, he met these Virginians.
{113} Morgan halted his men, and saluted the commander in chief, saying, "From the right bank of the Potomac, General!"
Washington dismounted, and, walking along the line, shook hands with each of them.
Late in the fall of 1775, Morgan and his famous sharpshooters marched with about a thousand other troops on Arnold's ill-fated expedition to Quebec. This campaign, as you have read, was one of the most remarkable exploits of the war.
In the attack upon Quebec, after Arnold had been carried wounded from the field, and Montgomery had been killed, Morgan took Arnold's place and fought like a hero. He forced his way so far into the city that he and all his men were surrounded and captured.
A British officer who greatly admired his daring visited him in prison, and offered him the rank and pay of a colonel in the royal army.
"I hope, sir," answered the Virginian patriot, "you will never again insult me, in my present distressed and unfortunate situation, by making me offers which plainly imply that you think me a scoundrel."
Soon after his release, Congress voted him a colonel's commission, with orders to raise a regiment. The regiment reported for service at Morristown, New Jersey, in the winter of 1776.
Five hundred of the best riflemen were selected from the various regiments, and put under the command of {114} Colonel Morgan. He was well fitted to be the leader of this celebrated corps of sharpshooters. They were always to be at the front, to watch every movement of the enemy, and to furnish prompt and accurate news for Washington. They were to hara.s.s the British, and to fight with the enemy's outposts for every inch of ground.
Meanwhile, in the fall of 1777, Burgoyne, with a large army of British, Hessians, and Indians, marched down from Canada, through the valley of the Hudson. The country was greatly alarmed. Washington could ill spare Morgan, but generously sent him with his riflemen to help drive back the invaders.
Two great battles, the first at Freeman's Farm, the second at Saratoga, sealed Burgoyne's fate. In each battle, the sharpshooters did signal service. Before their deadly rifles, the British officers, clad in scarlet uniforms, fell with frightful rapidity. They were a terror to the Hessians. As Morgan would often say in high glee, "The very sight of my riflemen was always enough for the Hessian pickets.
They would scamper into their lines as if the devil drove them, shouting in all the English they knew, 'Rebel in de bush! rebel in de bush!'"
After the surrender, when Burgoyne was introduced to Morgan, he took him warmly by the hand and said, "Sir, you command the finest regiment in the world."
For over a year and a half after Saratoga, Morgan and his riflemen were attached to Washington's army, and saw hard service. Their incessant attacks on the enemy's {115} outposts, and their numberless picket skirmishes, are all lost to history, and are now forgotten.
Just before the battle of Monmouth, a painful disease, known as sciatica, brought on by constant exposure and hardship, disabled Morgan. Sick and discouraged because he had seen officers who were favorites with Congress promoted over his head, he, like Greene, Stark, and Schuyler, now left the army for a time.
But after Gates was defeated at Camden, the fighting blood of the old Virginian was greatly stirred. He declared that no man should have any personal feeling when his country was in peril. So he hurried down South, and took, under Gates, his old place as colonel.
After the battle at King's Mountain, Congress very wisely made Morgan a brigadier general.
[Ill.u.s.tration: General Daniel Morgan]
The glorious and ever-memorable victory at Cowpens made him more famous than ever before. Hitherto he had fought in battles that other men had planned. Now he had a chance to plan and to fight as he pleased. It was not a great battle so far as numbers were concerned, but "in point of tactics," says John Fiske, the historian, "it was the most brilliant battle of the war for independence."
{116} After leading eleven hundred men into the northeast part of South Carolina, to cut off Cornwallis from the seacoast, General Greene gave Morgan the command of about a thousand men, with orders to march to the southwest, and threaten the inland posts and their garrisons. Cornwallis, the English earl, scarcely knew which way to turn; but he followed Greene's example, and, dividing his army, sent Colonel Tarleton to crush Morgan.
Tarleton, confident of success, dashed away with his eleven hundred troopers to pounce upon the "old wagoner" and crush him at a single blow. Morgan, well trained in the school of Washington and Greene, and wishing just then to avoid a decisive battle, skillfully fell back until he found a spot in which to fight after his own fashion.
His choice was at a place where cattle were rounded up and branded, known as Cowpens. A broad, deep river, which lay in the rear, cut off all hope of retreat. A long, thickly wooded slope commanded the enemy's approach for a great distance. Morgan afterwards said that he made this choice purposely, that the militia might know they could not run away, but must fight or die.
At Cowpens, then, the patriot army lay encamped the night before the expected battle. A trusty spy was sent to Tarleton, to say that the Americans had faced about, and were waiting to fight him sometime the next day. There was no fuss and feathers about Morgan. In the {117} evening, he went round among the various camp fires, and with fatherly words talked the situation over.
"Stand by me, boys," said he in his blunt way, "and the old 'wagoner'
will crack his whip for sure over Tarleton to-morrow."
The British commander, eager to strike a sudden blow, put his army in motion at three o'clock in the morning. He was not early enough, however, to catch the old rifleman napping. Morgan had rested his men during the night, and given them a good breakfast early in the morning. When Tarleton appeared upon the scene about sunrise, he found the patriots ready.
In the skirmish line, Morgan placed one hundred and twenty riflemen that could bring down a squirrel from the tallest tree. The militia, under the command of Colonel Pickens, were drawn up about three hundred yards in front of the hill. Along the brow of the hill, and about one hundred and fifty yards behind the militia, were the veterans of the Continental line. And beyond the brow of the hill, he stationed Colonel Washington with his cavalry, out of sight, and ready to move in an instant.
"Be firm, keep cool, take good aim. Give two volleys at killing distance, and fall back," were the orders to the raw militia.
"Don't lose heart," said Morgan to the Continentals, "when the skirmishers and the militia fall back. 'Tis a part of the plan. Stand firm, and fire low. Listen for my turkey call."
{118} Morgan was in the habit of using a small turkey call such as hunters use to decoy turkeys. In the heat of battle he would blow a loud blast. This he said was to let the boys know that he was still alive and was watching them fight.
Tarleton, unmindful of the fact that Morgan's retreat was "sullen, stern, and dangerous," had marched his men all night through the mud.
They were tired out and hungry. Never mind, their restless leader would crush "old wagoner" first, and eat breakfast afterwards. He could hardly wait to form his line or to allow his reserves to come up.
The battle begins in real earnest. The militia fire several well-aimed volleys, and fall back behind the Continentals. With a wild hurrah, the redcoats advance on the run. They are met with a deadly volley. They overlap the Continentals a little, who fall back a short distance, to save their left flank. Tarleton hurls his whole force upon them. The veterans stand their ground and pour in a heavy and well-sustained fire. Quick as a flash, Morgan sees his golden chance.
"They are coming on like a mob!" shouts Colonel Washington to the gallant Colonel Howard, the commander of the Continentals. "Face about and fire, and I will charge them."
Then is heard the shrill whistle of the turkey call, and Morgan's voice rings along the lines, "Face about! One good fire, and the victory is ours!"
{119} Like a thunderbolt, Colonel Washington and his troopers, flying their famous crimson flag, sweep down in a semicircle round the hill, and charge the enemy's right flank.
"Charge bayonets!" shouts Howard.
Instantly the splendid veterans face about, open a deadly fire, and charge the disordered British line with the bayonet.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Carolina Militia resisting the British Grenadiers at Cowpens]
All was over in a few minutes. The old "teamster" had set his trap, and the redcoats were caught. Finding themselves surrounded, six hundred threw down their guns, and cried for quarter. The rest, including Tarleton himself, by hard riding, escaped.
{120} Colonel Washington and his troopers rode in hot haste to capture Tarleton, if possible. In the eagerness of his pursuit, Washington rode in advance of his men. Tarleton and two of his aids turned upon him. Just as one of the aids was about to strike the colonel with his saber, a trooper came up and disabled the redcoat's arm. Before the other aid could strike, he was wounded by Washington's little bugler, who, too small to handle a sword, fired his pistol. Tarleton now made a thrust at the colonel with his sword.
The latter parried the blow, and wounded his enemy in the hand.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Hand to Hand Fight between Colonel Washington and Colonel Tarleton]
As the story is told, this wound was twice the subject for witty remarks by two young women, the daughters of a North Carolina patriot. Tarleton remarked to one of these sisters that he understood Colonel Washington was an unlettered fellow, hardly able to write his name.