BATTLE OF CAMDEN AND DEATH OF DE KALB.

THE defeat of Gates at Camden (August 16, 1780), was the most terrible of all the disasters experienced by our Southern army during the war of the Revolution. It annihilated the army, ruined the fame of its general, filled the country with alarm, and, but for the genius of Greene, would have won the Southern States to Great Britain.

Meanwhile, the Baron de Kalb, enveloped in the hottest of the battle, was struggling for victory on the right. A corps of the enemy who advanced against Lieutenant-Colonel Howard, were met and nobly driven out of line; and for a moment victory inclined with the Americans. Then Lord Rawdon collected the strength of his wing and came down like an avalanche upon the brigade of General Gist. But, calling his little band around him, that officer pointed to the coming storm, and ordered each man to his post. For days and nights he had toiled with his brave Marylanders, in every hardship and every danger; he had stood the hottest of the battle, and now, heedless of fatigue, he sternly awaited the living mass that was poured upon him. On they came - hundreds of muskets flashed before them, and their artillery tore and withered his ranks like a hurricane. Then came the fearful charge - and in a moment the disappointed foe were rolling back, repulsed, disheartened. High over the uproar, De Kalb's iron voice pealed along, and each soldier knew that victory or death was near. Again and again, Lord Rawdon rushed on the devoted brigade, while at each time a confused rush, a fearful silence, and then the hurryings of retreat, announced that patriotism was still triumphant. Chafing like a wounded lion, Rawdon dashed from point to point, driving his worried legion on the foe; while, on the other side, the voice of Gist, buoyant with hope and victory, thrilled the bosom of every American. Dense and resistless, his band commenced their onward movement, and the terrified British shrank at their approach.

But the moment of triumph was short. The flight of the militia on the other wing having left Colonel Webster unemployed, he detached some light troops with Tarleton's cavalry in pursuit, and opposed himself to the reserve brought up by Smallwood to replace the fugitives. The languor of repulse was succeeded by the renewed shock and terrible wrestling for victory. All alone, opposed to overwhelming numbers, the Marylanders threw themselves into a square and received the hurried rush of the enemy's artillery. Rank sunk down upon rank, until but a remnant was left. These the baron rallied around him, and, ignorant of Gates's disaster, prepared for a final effort. That charge was not the slow deliberate advance, when whole columns sink down before they reach the foe. It was hurled on the British like a whirlwind, sweeping away all resistance. Part of the enemy broke in confusion, with the loss of many prisoners. It was a moment of high hopes, and bounding exultation - and but a moment. So inferior was the force of the Americans, that while Smallwood covered the flank of the second brigade, his left became exposed; and Lieutenant-Colonel Webster, ever on the alert to seize an advantage, turned against this devoted flank his light infantry and the 23d regiment. But though almost surrounded by superior numbers, the first brigade maintained the conflict until literally pushed from the ground. But the next moment they rallied, and advanced to the desperate struggle; again they were driven back, and again rallied, rushing over bleeding masses, to the very bayonets of the enemy. Near them De Kalb, with his Maryland veterans, was fighting hand to hand with the disciplined hosts of Britain.

At length Lord Cornwallis concentrated his forces, and ordered a decisive charge. Then there was a period of wild rushing, of confused uproar, and racking suspense. Even the tones of command died in the intensity of that terrible moment. Then the cloud of battle dispersed, and De Kalb had disappeared. Pierced with eleven wounds, he had fallen beneath the trampling armies. Long rows of bayonets sprang madly toward him; but his aid, Lieutenant-Colonel du Buyssen, threw himself upon his friend, -and while crying out, "Spare the Baron de Kalb," received the keen weapon intended for his friend.

Our troops were broken; and after having wrestled all day against the flower of the enemy's army, were compelled to fly to the neighbouring woods and swamps. The pursuit was continued until not a fugitive could be seen; the road was heaped with the dead and dying; and arms, artillery, horses, and articles of baggage, were strewn in every direction.

The baron was treated with every attention by the victors, but he survived the battle only a few days. His last moments were spent in dictating a letter to General Smallwood, his successor in command, breathing in every word his sincere and ardent affection for officers and soldiers; expressing his admiration of their late noble though unsuccessful stand; reciting the eulogy which their bravery had extorted from the enemy, and the lively delight which such testimony of their valour had excited in his own mind. Then, feeling the pressure of death, he extended his quivering hand to his friend Du Buyssen, and breathed his last in benedictions on his faithfull, brave division.