mand, did not much exceed twenty-three hundred men, and more than half of them were militia. It had been broken in spirit by the recent defeat. The officers had fallen into habits of negligence; the soldiers were loose and disorderly, without tents and camp equipage; badly clothed and fed, and prone to relieve their necessities by depredating upon the inhabitants. Greene's letters written at the time abound with military aphorisms suggested by the squalid scene around him. "There must be either pride or principle," said he, "to make a soldier. No man will think himself bound to fight the battles of a State that leaves him perishing for want of covering; nor can you inspire a soldier with the sentiment of pride while his situation renders him an object of pity, rather than of envy. Good feeding is the first principle of good service. It is impossible to preserve discipline where troops are in want of everything-to attempt severity will only thin the ranks by a more hasty desertion."

The state of the country in which he was to act was equally discouraging. "It is so extensive," said he, "and the powers of government so weak, that everybody does as he pleases. The inhabitants are much divided in their political sentiments, and the whigs and tories pursue each other with little less than savage fury. The back country people are bold and daring; but the people upon the seashore are sickly, and but indifferent militia."

"War here," observes he in another letter, "is upon a very different scale to what it is at the northward. It is a plain business there. The geography of the country reduces its operations to two or three points. But here it is everywhere; and the country is so full of deep rivers and impassable creeks and swamps that you are always liable to misfortunes of a capital nature. The whigs and tories,"

adds he, "are continually out in small parties, and all the middle country is so disaffected that you cannot lay in the most trifling magazine, or send a wagon through the country with the least article of stores without a guard."

A recent exploit had given some animation to the troops. Lieutenant-colonel Washington, detached with a troop of light-horse to check a foraging party of the enemy, scoured the country within thirteen miles of Camden. Here he found a body of loyalist militia strongly posted at Clermont, the seat of Colonel Rugeley, their tory commander. They had ensconced themselves in a large barn, built of logs, and had fortified it by a slight intrenchment and a line of abatis. To attack it with cavalry was useless. Colonel Washington dismounted a part of his troops to appear like infantry; placed on two wagon wheels the trunk of a pine tree, shaped and painted to look like a field-piece, brought it to bear upon the enemy, and, displaying his cavalry, sent in a flag summoning the garrison to surrender instantly, on pain of having their log castle battered about their ears. The garrison, to the number of one hundred and twelve men, with Colonel Rugeley at their head, gave themselves up prisoners of war.* Cornwallis, mentioning the ludicrous affair in a letter to Tarleton, adds sarcastically: "Rugeley will not be made a brigadier.' The unlucky colonel never again appeared in arms.

The first care of General Greene was to reorganize his army. He went to work quietly but resolutely: called no councils of war; communicated his plans and intentions to few, and such only as were able and willing to aid in executing them. "If I cannot inspire respect and confidence by an independent conduct," said he, "it will be impossible to in* Williams' Narrative.

still discipline and order among the troops." His efforts were successful; the army soon began to assume what he termed a military complexion.

He was equally studious to promote harmony among his officers, of whom a number were young, gallant, and intelligent. It was his delight to have them at his genial but simple table, where parade and restraint were banished, and pleasant and instructive conversation was promoted; which, next to reading, was his great enjoyment. The manly benignity of his manners diffused itself round his board, and a common sentiment of affection for their chief united the young men in a kind of brotherhood.

Finding the country around Charlotte exhausted by repeated foragings, he separated the army into two divisions. One, about one thousand strong, was commanded by Brigadier-general Morgan, of rifle renown, and was composed of four hundred Continental infantry, under Lieutenant-colonel Howard of the Maryland line, two companies of Virginia militia, under Captains Tripplet and Tate, and one hundred dragoons, under Lieutenant-colonel Washington. With these Morgan was detached toward the district of Ninety-Six, in South Carolina, with orders to take a position near the confluence of the Pacolet and Broad Rivers, and assemble the militia of the country. With the other division, Greene made a march of toilful difficulty through a barren country, with wagons and horses quite unfit for service, to Hick's Creek, in Chesterfield district, on the east side of the Pedee River opposite the Cheraw Hills. There he posted himself, on the 26th, partly to discourage the enemy from attempting to possess themselves of Cross Creek, which would give them command of the greatest part of the provisions of the lower country-partly to form a camp of repose; "and no army,”

adds he, "are continually out in small parties, and all the middle country is so disaffected that you cannot lay in the most trifling magazine, or send a wagon through the country with the least article of stores without a guard."

A recent exploit had given some animation to the troops. Lieutenant-colonel Washington, detached with a troop of light-horse to check a foraging party of the enemy, scoured the country within thirteen miles of Camden. Here he found a body of loyalist militia strongly posted at Clermont, the seat of Colonel Rugeley, their tory commander. They had ensconced themselves in a large barn, built of logs, and had fortified it by a slight intrenchment and a line of abatis. To attack it with cavalry was useless. Colonel Washington dismounted a part of his troops to appear like infantry; placed on two wagon wheels the trunk of a pine tree, shaped and painted to look like a field-piece, brought it to bear upon the enemy, and, displaying his cavalry, sent in a flag summoning the garrison to surrender instantly, on pain of having their log castle battered about their ears. The garrison, to the number of one hundred and twelve men, with Colonel Rugeley at their head, gave themselves up prisoners of war.* Cornwallis, mentioning the ludicrous affair in a letter to Tarleton, adds sarcastically: "Rugeley will not be made a brigadier." The unlucky colonel never again appeared in arms.

The first care of General Greene was to reorganize his army. He went to work quietly but resolutely called no councils of war; communicated his plans and intentions to few, and such only as were able and willing to aid in executing them. "If I cannot inspire respect and confidence by an independent conduct," said he, "it will be impossible to in* Williams' Narrative.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Hostile Embarkations to the South-Arnold in Command-Necessitous State of the Country-Washington urges a Foreign Loan -Mission of Colonel Laurens in France to seek Aid in Men and Money-Grievances of the Pennsylvania Line-Mutiny-Negotiations with the Mutineers-Articles of Accommodation- Policy doubted by Washington-Rigorous Course adopted by him with other Malcontents-Successful-Ratification of the Articles of Confederation of the States

THE Occurrences recorded in the last few chapters made Washington apprehend a design on the part of the enemy to carry the stress of war into the Southern States. Conscious that he was the man to whom all looked in time of emergency, and who was, in a manner, responsible for the general course of military affairs, he deeply felt the actual impotency of his position.

In a letter to Franklin, who was minister-plenipotentiary at the court of Versailles, he strongly expresses his chagrin. "Disappointed of the second division of French troops, but more especially in the expected naval superiority, which was the pivot upon which everything turned, we have been compelled to spend an inactive campaign, after a flattering prospect at the opening of it, and vigorous struggles to make it a decisive one on our part. Latterly we have been obliged to become spectators of a succession of detachments from the army at New York in aid of Lord Cornwallis, while our naval weakness, and the political dissolution of a great part of our army, put it out of our power to counteract them at the southward, or to take advantage of them here."