Robert
D. Bass:
The Green
Dragoon
review by Holley
Calmes

Holley (pictured right with Ban and
Bandit):
I recently had the pleasure of touring a Revolutionary War
battlefield in Pennsylvania. The Visitors' Center had a nice
exhibition hosted by a knowledgeable young man, a park employee. As
we talked, he showed great respect for Pat Ferguson, and indeed the
museum had a reproduction Ferguson rifle on display. However, when I
mentioned that another one of my favorite characters was Banastre
Tarleton, a look of revulsion crossed the young man's face. "I hate
him!" he said with passion. "Why?" I asked. "Besides the fact that
Tarleton was ruthless, that portrait of him is so arrogant it makes
me mad!" was the young man's reply.
I explained that, first, Tarleton didn't commit any more
atrocities than Patriots William Washington or William Campbell. And
second, the pose was dictated by the artist Sir Joshua Reynolds,
planned largely to hide Tarleton's right hand which was missing two
fingers. The only response I got from the park employee was
satisfaction that such a revolting man had suffered a disfiguring
wound.
Why does Tarleton evoke such strong feelings in so many students
of the Revolutionary War, particularly on the Patriot side? And it is
that Reynolds' portrait which disturbs many; e.g. Dr. John Buchanan,
whose The Road to Guilford
Courthouse, reflects an almost hysterical dislike of
Tarleton, dwelling on the portrait. Some people find Tarleton's
'arrogance' (or was it simply youthful panache?) something to be
hated. The fact that Tarleton was unusually successful in his
military career doesn't help, either.
Tarleton is the subject of so much Patriot propaganda that he is
remembered for the myth and the atrocities, alleged and real. There
is much more to the man than that, and the best place to find a
glimpse of this entertaining personality is in his only biography,
Robert D. Bass' The Green
Dragoon.
Dr. Bass was Professor of History, English and Government at
Annapolis. His other Revolutionary War histories include one of
Francis Marion and one of Fort Ninety-Six. After completing the
manuscript for Green Dragoon in
1956, he "turned up" Sir Banastre's personal papers, untouched since
the General's death in 1833. (I would sincerely like to know how that
happened!) So Bass started over, completing a book which would
eventually reach 454 pages of text in exhausting detail. It became a
joint history of Tarleton and of his mistress of 15 years, the
actress/poet/novelist Mary Robinson. If Tarleton ever had a
competitor for colorful behavior, it was Mary.
It is not an easy read. It bogs down in the wartime letters and
dispatches, many of which revolve around Tarleton's family refusing
to pay his gambling debts. This slows down the war narrative, but it
is certainly thorough. There are many colorful parts, and I always
want to jump ahead to them. This is a mistake. Although it is often
laborious reading, Green Dragoon
is a worthy history of the Revolution in the South particularly.
Green Dragoon begins with a
breathless description of Tarleton breaking a wild black stallion.
This episode presumably happened in North Carolina as witnessed by a
Loyalist remembering it from his youth. It was taken from an 1861
biography of Andrew Jackson (now there was a ruthless man!). It is
perhaps the only fragment of the book I doubt. Written in adulation,
Tarleton comes across as a British Fabio [cover-boy on US
paperback bodice-rippers] complete with firebreathing steed,
"immense spurs", and enough chutzpah for the whole British Army. It
is a lot of fun, though. This first chapter, a swashbuckling
introduction, introduces the reader to the main subject through the
campaign and surrender at Yorktown.
From there Bass takes us back into Banastre's childhood and
rakish youth. He alternates chapters of Tarleton's progress through
the Revolutionary War with that of Mary Robinson who was "born into a
life of tempest and tears". And so the chapters are intertwined until
at last Ban and Mary are intertwined literally - in a 15-year romance
which sees them cavort about London, Paris, Germany. Gambling,
fighting, breaking up - until she published such passionate poetry
intended for him that he can't help but come back to her. Why hasn't
there been a movie made about these two?
Read Green Dragoon and you'll
find that Butcher Tarleton was also many, many other things. For one,
he was a true jock, a noted athlete at Oxford, a feared swordsman and
horseman during the war. After his return to England he made
preposterous bets on accomplishing physical deeds. For example, he
bet that he could run 100 yards with another person on his back
faster than someone else could trot their favorite horse twice the
distance. He raced his own small stable of horses and became a
professional gambler for a time. His once enemy turned friend, the
Duc du Lauzun, shared Mary Robinson with him briefly. The Duc and
Tarleton were both present at a dinner for 12 in Paris the moment
that Princess Lamballe's head was carried beneath their windows.
Within a year, Tarleton was the only one of the 12 left alive. He and
Mary escaped France one day before the revolutionary authorities
issued an edict to arrest all Englishmen in France. He later
befriended wartime opponents Lafayette and Kosciusko. Tarleton
arranged for the Polish hero to be presented with a ceremonial sword
during a trip to England.
The 'Butcher of the Carolinas' was pretty soft sometimes. After
Mary Robinson lost the use of her legs following her tragic
miscarriage, Tarleton would carry her to and from her box at the
theater in his arms. It was the talk of London. And anyone who can
read the delightful letter he wrote his sister Bridget (p. 172) and
not take a shine to the boy has absolutely no heart. Especially since
this was written immediately after he lost the 2 fingers at Guilford
Courthouse.
These little nuggets of characterization are sprinkled throughout
Green Dragoon, making it possible
to find real people beneath the barrage of facts. In fact, Mrs.
Robinson's tumultuous life and later fame as a writer are every bit
as engrossing as Tarleton's. She was a friend to William Taylor
Coleridge and Mary Wollstonecraft. Mary wrote a feminist tract titled
Thoughts on the Condition of Women and on
the Injustice of Mental Subordination. Yet she was also a
friend of Marie Antoinette, bringing Paris fashions back to a
scandalized London. In all, Ban and Mary were a pair made in romance
novel heaven. Had there been Prozac in the 18th century, these two
might have continued their affair until the end of her fragile life.
However, at last they parted. Tarleton went on to better things.
Those who already despise him will hate him even more to know that he
straightened out his gambling addiction, married a pretty heiress 22
years his junior, became a General and a Knight of the Bath, lived as
a country squire in one of Shropshire's most luscious villages, and
died in his own bed of old age at 78.
Tarleton and Mary Robinson were certainly not perfect, but it is
often their flaws which make them so interesting. Reading
Green Dragoon, one realizes that
as well as being, possibly, a fiend, Tarleton was also a witty,
rascally character. Mary was a member of the demimonde, but she was
also smart as a whip.
Tarleton has been an intellectual pal of mine for some time. I
must say he only improves with age - thanks to Bass. I like to visit
Tarleton and to continually re-experience this colorful person by
mining the pages of Green
Dragoon. It isn't a perfect book. It drags sometimes and
offers '50s euphemisms for some of the basic human experiences. It
waxes embarrassingly sweet when it tries to convey what these two
people were thinking and feeling. But we do get a broad, thorough and
very human picture of two extraordinary people who reflected
Revolutionary and Regency times with spirit and stupidity, brilliance
and pathos.
I am hoping that some day someone else will rediscover Tarleton's
extremely marketable personality and deliver the goods on him again.
If this mythical author does appear, they need only stick to the
facts unearthed by Bass - which are much more engrossing than
fiction.
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