Remembering the Many

June 26, 2024

A salute to the troops of America’s first decisive victory against land and sea forces

from Rick Wise, Interim Executive Director / CEO, Military Historian

By 9:00 PM on 28 June 1776, it was over. The rotten egg smell of gunpowder wafted across the water of Charles Town harbor, and permeated Fort Sullivan and the surrounding marshes. Colonel William “Danger” Thomson’s troops and the waters of Breech Inlet had held off any attempt by the British infantry to cross from Long Island (Isle of Palms). In the summer twilight, looking across the harbor, it finally became clear to those anxiously waiting in Charles Town that the little palmetto log fort had held. The spongy logs and sand miraculously deflected and absorbed the shot and shell directed at them by the British fleet. 


Those mighty ships now limped back to the anchorage at Five-Fathom Hole with splintered rails, decks, and masts. Rigging hung in strips of canvas, frayed ropes, and dangling spars. The dead and wounded sailors were evidence of the accuracy of the cannon fire from the fort. With resounding huzzahs, the soldiers in the fort announced their glorious victory. As their voices echoed across the water, their celebration also marked the first significant victory for the fledgling United States of America in its war with Britain.


Today we revel in the glory of that first, critical victory of the War for Independence. But to accomplish that feat against the strongest country in the world at that time says something about the men who made it happen. Soldiers and sailors, artillerymen, and infantry acting as artillerymen, did their duty and achieved victory that day. But really the full story is overlooked. The combined efforts that made that day possible are all melded into the events of a just few hours of battle. Though we focus our vision on the battles and engagements that happen, it's every day soldiering that win them.


To understand the scope of Carolina Day, is to understand the months’ worth of work by the men, free and enslaved, that made the triumph happen. Starting in January 1776 when the decision was made to make Sullivan’s Island a point of Charles Town’s defense, the task to fortify it began. Troops and enslaved workers were sent to Sullivan’s Island. There was a morass vicinity where the fort was being built with hard labor, with none of the amenities of Charles Town that tempted them across the water. Their days were made of work details to build the fort that Captain Peter Horry described as 500 feet long and 16 feet wide, with sand packed in between. There were countless hours of rafting palmetto logs to the site, the laborious efforts to put them in place, chink the gaps between the logs with sand, build gun platforms, and then mount the heavy guns. Sweat. Heat. Mosquitoes. Fatigue. Humidity. Discipline. Grog. Complaining. All of these, the drudgery that soldiers have endured since the beginning of time. 


From March til June those tasks at the fort were mostly same, day in and day out. Sullivan’s Island was no garden spot. Major Francis Marion ordered that the oak trees not be cut, so that the men could have some shade. Building and defending the palmetto log fort with the blue flag with a crescent in the corner flying from its incomplete ramparts, were soldiers of the Second South Carolina Regiment, supported by some men of the Fourth Regiment (Artillery), enslaved workers, and the guidance of officers and engineers. Tedious work, interlaced with drills for quick defense. Another work detail, then training from the artillerymen of the Fourth Regiment on how to work the guns. Training infantrymen to be gunners. Drill on how to repel an enemy landing. Another work detail.

 

On the north end of the island, Colonel “Danger” Thomson’s men of the Third Regiment did the same, as did the others around the harbor. The British arrived on 2 June, and the work was more strident. Inspections were not promising. The fort not ready, “a slaughter pen,” according to General Charles Lee. But Colonel William Moultrie promised a stout defense by his soldiers. Lee was about to relieve Moultrie and put a more energetic commander in place, but that same morning the British ships sailed into position, and the fight was on. And those haggard soldiers in the little palmetto log fort prevailed. 


We all know of the men whose names became famous for their exploits that day, and for their other actions during the war. Names like Moultrie, Marion, Horry, and Jasper. They were with the 435 men who defended that small fortification that most experts expected to be shot to pieces by the British broadsides. We remember those few. I encourage you to remember the many. They are those who remain anonymous in history, except for their appearance on rosters 248 years later. It was their soldiering in desperate times, it was they who endured the hardships necessary when their country in its infancy needed them most. They are the ones who won the battle with duty and sweat, defended the shores at Breech Inlet, and made the indefensible fort hold out against the strongest navy in the world. Their spirits are still with us on Carolina Day. And their spirits are still with those in uniform who anonymously defend our great nation today.

By Rick Wise February 14, 2025
Thomas Sumter Thomas Sumter came to South Carolina in a roundabout way. A native Virginian, he served as a sergeant during the Cherokee War and had the honor to escort Cherokee Chief Ostenaco to England for a visit with King George III. Upon their return to America, they landed in Charleston, returned the Chief to his home, and Sumter made his way to Virginia. His homecoming was not as celebratory as he’d hoped. Bad debt caught up with him and he was promptly jailed. Using his wiles, he successfully negotiated his release and headed for South Carolina, intent upon getting paid money owed him by the British government for his trip to England. In 1764 he received 700 pounds for his efforts. With this newly acquired fortune, Sumter ventured to a fork in the road near Eutaw Springs on the way to Nelson’s Ferry. That vacant lot on the route from Ninety Six to Charleston became the site of a bustling store, and Sumter’s fortune began to grow. Soon he made the acquaintance of Mary Cantey Jameson, who became widowed during the time he operated the store. After a respectable amount of time, Sumter began courting the amiable woman, eleven years his senior. Though she suffered a withered left arm from infantile paralysis and didn’t walk well, her suitor was undeterred. He cut a dashing, athletic figure, and showed off by leaping into the saddle without using the stirrups. They were smitten with each other and married. Sumter now had a wife…and a superbly valuable plantation on the Santee River called, “Great Savannah.” Sumter loved Mary and their son, Tom, Jr. dearly, though he felt the pull to fight for his country. He served in the militia, commanded the Second Regiment of Riflemen, was a Provincial Congressman, commanded the Sixth Regiment of South Carolina Continentals, and participated in the uneventful efforts to drive the British from Georgia. Suffering from fatigue and malaria, he returned home and resigned his Continental commission on September 19, 1778. With military service behind him, he became a gentleman plantation owner and enjoyed home life with Mary and Tom, even as the war continued and Charleston fell. In addition to Great Savannah on the Santee, Sumter and Mary owned a home in the High Hills of the Santee near modern Stateburg. It was there that the British made a critical mistake. Captain Campbell of Tarleton’s British Legion stopped by his home in search of the former Continental officer. Having received a warning from a neighbor, Sumter was nowhere to be found. The British Legion, Provincial Loyalists from New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania fighting for the King, questioned Mary about her husband’s whereabouts. When she couldn’t answer, the British Legion removed the invalid Mary still seated in her wicker chair from the house and sat her under a shade tree. She and twelve-year-old Tom watched the enemy ravage their smokehouse- allegedly leaving Mary one ham under her chair, and then burned their home. Sumter, who was not engaged in the war at that time, now had even more reason to return to the fight. He headed to the New Acquisition (modern day Rock Hill) and raised over a thousand troops to exact revenge. Sumter stayed in the war and fought many battles, while remaining devoted to his wife and son. During the Rounds Campaign in February-March 1781, he made a special effort to get Mary and Tom from a neighbor’s home at Cane Savannah plantation near modern Sumter. She rode horseback on a mattress held on by a servant, and occasionally fell as they traveled. She and Tom were eyewitnesses to Sumter’s fight at Radcliffe’s Bridge near modern Bishopville. Though bruised and exhausted, Sumter and Mary were reunited. Mary seemed to always have a very special place in Sumter’s heart, though war and in later years, politics and serving in Washington, kept them apart. Mary receives the credit for the spelling of “Sumter” as we know it today. Originally spelled “Sumpter”, Mary felt the spelling without the “p” was more refined. Sumter complied and the change passed the test of time. They were married fifty years, until her death in 1817. For Thomas Sumter, the “Gamecock”, there was also a love story to match his other extraordinary feats. They are buried together at the Thomas Sumter Memorial Park in Stateburg, SC. William Washington Lieutenant Colonel William Washington, a cousin of General George Washington, commanded the Third Regiment of Continental Light Dragoons. He arrived in South Carolina in late 1779 and camped near Sandy Hill plantation, Charles Elliott's home a few miles west of Charleston. There he met sixteen-year-old Jane Riley Elliott. She told him that “she would look out for news of his flag and fortune." The cavalryman told her that unfortunately there was no flag for his regiment. She quickly remedied that problem by cutting an eighteen-inch square of crimson damask from a drapery. She then fashioned a sleeve to fit a lance pennon and bound the edges for a fringe. Jane presented it to Washington, and is alleged to have said, "Here is your flag, take this, Colonel, and make it your standard." William attached the banner to a hickory pole and the 3rd Dragoons carried it at Cowpens, where afterwards the flag was named, "Tarleton's Terror.” Following the flag’s appearance at Guilford Courthouse, Hobkirk Hill, and Eutaw Springs, it became known as the “Eutaw Flag.” Without a doubt Washington had fond memories of Miss Jane Elliott and the gift surely reminded him of her as he fought those battles with her flag guiding his troops. On September 8, 1781 Washington was wounded and taken prisoner at the Battle of Eutaw Springs. It is little surprise once granted parole, William Washington became reacquainted with rice heiress Jane Elliott, her father since having died and leaving her his estate. Despite the war, the couple married on April 21, 1782. Washington now had a lovely young wife, and became the head of Sandy Hill with real estate holdings of some 12,000 acres. Together they had a boy and a girl, and William was a planter for 30 years. During that time, they hosted President George Washington for a two-day visit during his Southern Tour in 1791. Jane enjoyed his love of horse racing, and even his brief recall to active duty as a brigadier general in 1798. But it was their love that was kindled in the midst of war that is of special note at this time. And the flag with which she honored Washington? She gifted it to the Washington Light Infantry in 1827, and it is preserved by them to this day. The couple is buried in the Elliott Cemetery near Rantowles Bridge on Highway 17, south of Charleston. Francis Marion The Swamp Fox is well known for his exploits in the Cherokee War, as a Continental officer in the Second South Carolina Regiment at the Battle of Sullivan’s Island, then as their commander at Spring Hill Redoubt in Savannah. But at forty-eight years old, his fame was more about leading militia as the greatest partisan commander of the Revolutionary War. His leadership kept the fires of Liberty burning when at times it seemed hope was lost. And part of what kept him going was his relationship with Mary Esther Videau. Marion was under stress keeping his militia in the field, meeting the intelligence and logistics needs of General Nathanael Greene, and meeting the needs to help Governor John Rutledge as he tried to re-establish the state government. But if there was a source of solace for him, it was that he had a not-so-secret admirer. Mary Esther Videau was his first cousin, the daughter of his mother’s sister. Now a spinster in her late forties, she had been known to him since childhood. Over the years she had inherited a considerable fortune in money and land from her deceased parents and brothers. She also kept up Marion’s morale with a steady flow of correspondence, in which she also helped him with intelligence of enemy movements. Following the announcement of the surrender at Yorktown, she was said to have attended a celebratory ball at Cantey’s Plantation near the Santee River. It appears Marion was shy around women, and though he and Ms. Videau corresponded, he was not one to reveal romantic feelings. That changed after the war when Some of their cousins arranged a meeting, shedding light on the couple’s mutual attraction. They married on April 20, 1786 as part of double wedding with two other cousins. Yes, that was common in Colonial South Carolina! Marion was fifty-four and she was forty-nine. The Marions apparently made a sweet middle-aged couple. Though they would be childless, Marion and Esther adopted a ten-year-old grandnephew, Francis Marion Dwight, and another family member, Charlotte Videau Ashby. Unfortunately, Marion’s adopted son did not father any sons, so Marion had no direct descendants to carry on his name. The Marions enjoyed a happy and loving marriage. Historical documents suggest the two resembled each other, which may not have been complimentary to her. But they did share common interests like fishing, traveling, camping, and backgammon. They also enjoyed having visitors to their home, such as Peter Horry. While Marion continued to grow his estate and participate in politics and militia service, he valued the time spent at this plantation, Pond Bluff. It is said that Esther may have had a bit of temper. As Marion came in from checking his fields, he would toss his hat into an open window to check her mood. If she threw it back out, he would keep riding! Perhaps modern marriages could learn from that. Marion died at sixty-three years old on February 27, 1795. Esther outlived him by twenty years. They are buried at Belle Isle Plantation Cemetery near Pineville, SC. Three Revolutionary War heroes, who knew the love of women who made them even better heroes at home.  Sources: Bass, Robert D., Gamecock: The Life and Campaigns of General Thomas Sumter. (Orangeburg, Sandlapper Publishing Company, 1961). https://web.archive.org/web/20150912092012/http://home.golden.net/~marg/bansite/friends/washington.html Oller, John. The Swamp Fox: How Francis Marion Saved the American Revolution (pp. 302-307). Hachette Books. Kindle Edition.
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