Bloody Bill Cunningham, Terror of the South Carolina Backcountry

Artist's rendering of the Battle of Kings Mountain

Some time ago I wrote about Col. Banastre Tarleton of the British Legion, and how he might not have been the bad boy that so many accounts claim, but today I introduce a man who almost certainly deserved every bit of bad press he got.

Captain William Cunningham of the South Carolina backcountry was the son, nephew, and cousin to staunch loyalists at the beginning of the Revolutionary War, but being the strong-minded, contrary sort, he joined the rebel side. (That’s loyalist terminology for what we call patriots.) That lasted until first, Cunningham was refused a promotion he thought he deserved, and second, he was assigned to a location he didn’t care for. After his second attempt to resign from the Continental Army, he was court martialed for insubordination and sentenced to a whipping.

Sent home in disgrace and facing threats on his life, Cunningham fled to St. Augustine. Two years later, word reached him that patriot militia had turned his family out of their house, treating his aged father roughly and whipping his disabled brother so severely that he died. Furious, Cunningham returned to South Carolina on foot and went straight to the man responsible for his family’s suffering, Captain William Ritchie, where as the story goes, he shot Capt. Ritchie at dinner, in front of his family.

Afterward, Cunningham promptly joined the British cause. His exploits soon earned him the rank of major and later, captain, and he’s recorded as being present at the Battle of King’s Mountain. Notably fearless and an expert horseman, he was so much admired by his peers that even his enemies speak of him in tones of awe, decades later.

SC Districts from 1775 to 1784

The truly bone-chilling accounts, however, start just after the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, which took place October 1781. Slipping past patriot patrols in small groups, after the British withdrawal to Charleston, Cunningham led a fairly sizeable band of men—anywhere from 80 to 300, and I lean toward the latter—on a series of raids against the patriot populace. This quickly became a campaign of vengeance on those who had committed the gravest offenses against the Tories or their families. The first incident happened at Turner’s Station on Cloud’s Creek in the upper Ninety-Six District, where Cunningham and his men surprised and surrounded a patriot force that had been harassing loyalists. A shot fired prematurely while negotiations were being made for surrender tipped Cunningham’s temper over the edge, and most of them were slaughtered.

His reign of terror over the South Carolina backcountry would later be referred to as the Bloody Scout, with the term “scout” referring to their roaming the countryside rather than a person. The moniker “Bloody Bill” would likewise not be coined until later, like Tarleton’s nickname of “Bloody Ban.” With Cunningham’s habit, however, of pinning down his enemies, then deliberately putting them to death with a singleminded fury that is legendary even today, he stands head and shoulders above Tarleton in infamy. No other figure is attributed with such habitual, wholesale slaughter, to my knowledge, and even the Waxhaws Massacre had its extenuating circumstances.

The Bloody Scout was more or less brought to a halt one frosty morning when a mounted force led by Andrew Pickens attacked one of the camps Cunningham had spread out over the banks of the Edisto River, and with the alarm raised, the other camps fled and dispersed, eventually making their way back to Charleston. There’s evidence of one more skirmish leading to slaughter not far from Charleston, which historians feel was likely the work of Cunningham, as well, but after that time his raids were never as effective as before.

This stretch of obscure RevWar history provides the setting of my next novella, The Counterfeit Tory, which releases May 1 as part of the CQ-authored Backcountry Brides Collection from Barbour. Jed Wheeler from The Highwayman returns on a mission to infiltrate William Cunningham’s troops in the hopes of bringing him down. The big question for Jed is, can he accomplish this without getting killed, himself?

[My thanks to Patrick O'Kelley for Nothing but Blood and Slaughter, his extensive work on every military action in the Carolinas during the Revolution; and to carolana.com, diceylangston.com, and Wikipedia for maps and cross-checking of facts.]

The American Long Rifle: The Gun That Made a Nation

Yes, the first American long rifle came from Amish country!

It remains one of my favorite opening scenes: the image of a young woman, armed with a rifle as long as she is tall, feeding an escaped enemy at gunpoint. This is the first chapter in my novella, Defending Truth, from the recently re-released A Pioneer Christmas Collection. My heroine is surprised while out hunting, providing for her younger siblings while her father is away fighting alongside Shelby and Sevier at Kings Mountain. The gun she carries is a type variously known as a Lancaster or Pennsylvania rifle, later called the Kentucky rifle for its popularity with Daniel Boone and other longhunters; but the rifle's place of probable origin is the Lancaster, Pennsylvania, area.

Various aspects of the long rifle

It's impossible to trace the origin of the rifle with complete accuracy (pun not intended!), but most historians agree it was developed by German and Swiss gunsmiths. The rifle's range and accuracy stood in sharp constrast to the more commonly used musket, which was the standard issue of the British army. The term "rifle" referred to the curved grooves carved into the inside of the barrel, designed to put a spin on the ball as it was shot from the gun. The smooth-bore barrels of muskets required a heavier ball, more powder, and while faster on load time and perfectly adequate for laying down a heavy volley of gunfire in battle, could not provide for any reasonable accuracy.

"I...can pick a squirrel off a branch at two hundred yards, easy," is the statement by Rob MacFarlane in my long historical, Loyalty's Cadence, and it was no idle boast. It's easy to see, then, how the rifle became the weapon of choice all along the American frontier. But can we really say the rifle was the gun that made America?

... lock, stock, and barrel. The entirety of a rifle.

Story has it that George Washington discovered the intimidation factor of colonial farmers armed with rifles rather than muskets and used it to his advantage against the British army. Patrick Ferguson--yes, of Kings Mountain fame--had developed a breech-loading rifle, but his higher-ups disdained to put it to proper use. But it's agreed that the colonial victory at Kings Mountain was due largely to the accuracy of riflemen under Shelby and Sevier. The American sharpshooter was definitely legendary. In fact, the British had employed the German Jaegercorps as counter-snipers to match the skills of the riflemen fighting for American independence.

Another article, The Kentucky and Pennsylvania Long Rifle, further discusses the role of the rifle in westward expansion--including a nice tie-in with the Great Wagon Road, which I wrote about a few months ago.

The American long rifle was a weapon not just of great accuracy and distance, though it took longer to load than a musket, but they were elegant and beautiful, often works of art in their own right. Any online search for the history of the Kentucky or Pennsylvania rifle, and a click on images, will unearth a wealth of photos of various historic examples. One of my favorites is this beauty, billed a cap-and-ball Kentucky rifle by gunsmith John Parks, Jr. The beautiful curly maple which comprises the stock is not uncommon among rifles of its type, but the detail of the inlay is nothing short of incredible.

Each rifle was a work of art (Courtesy of the NRA museum)

More can be found at the links I've provided. YouTube is also a good place to find videos of what it's like to load and fire these historical lovelies.

Colonial Texas History: the Alamo

The Alamo chapel, nestled in the heart of modern San Antonio

“Remember the Alamo!”

Who hasn’t heard that? And who really knows the significance of it?

I certainly didn’t, until a recent trip to San Antonio where I stayed and attended a conference a mere two blocks from the Alamo museum and shrine. Of course, being the history nerd that I am, I had to go visit.

And was utterly inspired.

So today, y’all, I’m serving up a slice of colonial history, Texas style.

Once upon a time, Texas was part of Mexico. It was the northern of two provinces, denoted by a flag with two stars, and when Texas declared its independence, it kept the one star—hence the term “Lone Star State.”

Mexico had itself just declared its independence from Spain. A fuller discussion of that is found at the official website of the Alamo, which has a handy scrolling timeline to check events in Mexico and Texas against what was taking place in the rest of the world. You’ll also find links to an excellent resource called the Handbook of Texas, run by the Texas State Historical Association. While the eastern American colonies were taking shape, present-day San Antonio was chosen as the site for a Spanish mission that remained modestly successful until the late 1700’s. Later, the chapel and grounds were fortified for use as a local garrison against the threat of the French and Americans.

They really do call it a shrine!

For a while, the Mexican government welcomed immigrants from the United States, and between 1823-28, the Anglo population grew from 5000 to about 30,000. Mexico’s attempts to stop immigration from the US only fanned the flame of independence in Texas. (Small wonder, they were just a generation removed from the American Revolution!) Then came the rise of Santa Anna, a self-styled dictator who repealed the federalist constitution Mexico had drafted in 1824. It was only a matter of time before he decided to quell the rebellion in Texas, once and for all.

The garrison at the Alamo was his primary target as "the first piquet on the frontier." The battle there was only one of many, but became famous for the severe outnumbering of its defenders by the Mexican army (roughly 10-to-1) and for Santa Anna’s cruelty in dealing with the rebellion. He flew a red flag at the outset, a sign that no quarter would be given (I’ll discuss later how this contrasts with one of the famous “massacres” of the American Revolution), and while he spared the lives of the women and children hiding there, he sent them on their way with orders to share details so the Texians would know how unbeatable his army was. (A fairly forthright and cohesive overview of the Battle of the Alamo is found on Wikipedia.)

Side gate to the Alamo history walk

The Alamo’s commanders agreed it wasn’t the most defensible position. Hearing of the Mexican army’s advance, they begged for reinforcements, but few came. Among those who did join the fight was a small group headed by former U.S. Congressman David Crockett of Tennessee. Other notables were the two men who became co-commanders in the battle, William B. Travis from South Carolina and James Bowie from Kentucky and Louisiana. Severe illness confined Bowie to bed when the Mexican army attacked after a 13-day siege, so Travis was in charge at the end. His plea for reinforcements contains the “Victory or Death” slogan made famous after this battle.

Santa Anna’s forces attacked before dawn, and after 90 minutes or so, all but a handful of the defenders lay dead. Survivors were speedily executed. Actual numbers differ—sources say between 182 and 257 men died there. The Mexicans lost two or three times that number.

A city stands where a terrible battle took place...

All this I was ignorant of until visiting the Alamo. We stood in line to walk through the chapel, which has been dedicated as a “shrine to Texas liberty”—photography is forbidden, but you can see some of the inside, including artifacts and artwork, at the official site. Under the “Plan A Visit” tab is an interactive map, offering several panoramic views of the grounds and inside buildings.

Sun over the wall

In the sacristy where the women and children hid during the battle (only one was killed, small comfort), I stopped to reflect on the awe and sadness that seems to infuse all battlefields. In the long barracks, we watched a short film giving an overview of the battle, and I was struck breathless at the parallels between this and Kings Mountain—only in this case, the defenders were the rebels and not the loyalists, but the battle of the Alamo certainly provided the fuel to galvanize the Texas army into defeating the Mexican army shortly afterwards, who outnumbered them 2-to-1. Walking through the mini-museum of the long barracks was an extra treat, as it contained several Pennsylvania long rifles, such as my characters might have carried in my stories Defending Truth and Loyalty’s Cadence. (In the long barracks panoramic view, you can just barely see the rifle and knife of Davy Crockett in a display case against the wall.)

Fifty-five years or so later than the American Revolution this might have been, and more than twenty after the War of 1812, but I was struck by the similarities and parallels.

Guest Review: Defending Truth, from A Pioneer Christmas Collection

A Pioneer Christmas Collection

(My thanks to Pioneer Christmas co-author Michelle Ule for this post!)

Debut novelist Shannon McNear has fashioned a terrific story of divided loyalties and unexpected romance in Defending Truth.
            In what is now eastern Tennessee, immediately following the Battle of King's Mountain of 1780, loyalist militiaman Micah Elliot finds himself torn by the horror of what happened and a desire to flee. Hungry, shaken and miserable, he's discovered by a patriot's daughter out hunting.
            Something about the battered man captures her attention, and Truth Bledsoe feeds him, only to learn he fought on the opposite side from her father during the battle. Still, her Christian humanity sends her back to feed him and help him recover his strength.
           After a week, Micah recognizes he's got a pretty woman helping him and while still torn about his loyalties, feels the need to repay her. He spends the fall at her secluded farm helping Truth and her younger siblings prepare for the winter.
            Hostilities linger when the overmountain men return home from the battle, but can attitudes change when Micah sets aside his own safety to defend Truth and her loved ones?
            McNear's deft characterizations ring true throughout this tale, and my emotions were caught up in the question of how this one would work out. She provides insightful information on life on the frontier late during the Revolutionary War, when no one really felt safe and death lurked.
            Truth Bledsoe is a well-rounded young woman trying her plucky best to care for her family. Her own loyalties war within as the handsome Tory unexpectedly captures her heart. Micah is torn by uncertainty--what really is right and whose side does he want to be on? How can he return home to a family who would brand him a coward? But worse, how can he leave behind a lovely young woman who has captured his heart, even while he fought against her father.
            This fine novella begins A Pioneer Christmas Collection and sets a high bar for the stories to come. It's not a simplistic romance and it handles the Christianity of those on the frontier with grace and clarity. I loved it and thought it one of the finest historical novellas I've ever read.
           Well done, Shannon McNear.

New York Times best-selling writer Michelle Ule is the author of three historical novellas and a contemporary novel. Her story, "The Gold Rush Christmas," is the final novella in A Pioneer Christmas Collection. You can follow her blog at www.michelleule.com

Giveaway: One commenter on this review will receive a copy of the book. To enter answer the question: What is your favorite Christmas story? Why? (Also--come back next week. For the Tea Party giveaway we have a copy of the book with a bookplate signed by all authors!)

With Fire and Sword

With Fire and Sword – The Battle of King’s Mountain 1780 was written by Wilma Dykeman for the National Park Service. (approx. 82 pgs.)

           

           “Wilma Dykeman is a novelist, historian, and chronicler of the south-eastern mountain country. Among her books are The French Broad (in the Rivers of America series), The Border States, and Tennessee: A Bicentennial History, all dealing with the land and people for which the Battle of King’s Mountain was fought.” So states the foreward for this booklet, probably published as a handbook for museums located in the areas discussed throughout this compelling non-fiction story.     

Dykeman, an accomplished author, begins her tale of the Battle of King’s Mountain by lulling us into a sense of serenity as she describes the lovely mid-autumn harvest time of the southern highlands, the Cumberland Gap, and the lives of the “overmountain” people. All the while, she builds an underlying tension as she discusses the characters of men who will clash, claiming a harvest of lives on both sides of the battle.

          It’s about the strengths and weaknesses of both Patriot and British alike; in those character flaws that the battle will be won or lost. It is in the misguided decisions of Cornwallis, Gates and Tarleton that build the foundation for the battle to come, where lesser-known, but courageous men like Ferguson, the British soldier-prodigy, meets the fiercely independent patriot militias of Shelby, Chronicle and McDowell.  

The characters discussed and the decisions they made which inexorably led to the events on King’s Mountain in the autumn of 1780 will make for riveting reading, whether you’re a writer, student, history buff, or just enjoy a good adventure story. This booklet can be found on Amazon. 

I don’t know how it happened to end up in a book sale in northern New York, but I saw it on the shelf of my local library and had to have it!

My rating: 4 ½ Stars out of 5.  (Why not five? It’s too short!)