The Women of The American Revolution, Vol. 1

by E. F. Ellet

XX. DORCAS RICHARDSON.

* For the details of this sketch I am indebted to the kindness of Dr. Joseph Johnson, of Charleston, who has collected and preserved many interesting anecdotes of the war in South Carolina.

Fruitful in noble spirits were those wild and gloomy times; and woman's high truth and heroic devotion poured a solemn radiance over the dreary and appalling scene of civil war. No pen has recorded the instances innumerable in which her virtues shone conspicuous; they are forgotten by those who enjoy the benefits thus secured; or but a vague recollection remains—or an example is here and there remembered in family tradition. Even to these examples what meagre justice can be done by the few scattered and desultory anecdotes which must take the place of a complete history!

Living in the midst of the storm and struggle, and bearing more than her own share of the terrible trials which fell to woman's lot, Mrs. Richardson afforded an example of modest heroism, and of humble, cheerful faith. Her residence was in Clarendon, Sumter District. She was the daughter of Captain John Nelson, a native of Ireland, who married Miss Brownson, of South Carolina. The ferry over the Santee River, established and kept for several years by them, is still called Nelson's Ferry; and many of their descendants continue to live on both sides of the river. It is said that Lord Cornwallis, on his march into the interior, after the fall of Charleston, established his head-quarters at this ferry, at the house of the widow Nelson. She received from him an assurance that her property should be protected. When a large quantity of plate which she had buried for security was discovered and claimed as a prize by the captors, she reminded his lordship of his promise; but he refused to order the restoration of the plate, saying that the protection he had pledged extended only to things above ground!

Dorcas was married at the age of twenty, in 1761, and removed to her husband's plantation, situated about twenty miles further up the river, on the east side, near the junction of the Congaree and Wateree. In this home of peace, contentment and abundance, she enjoyed all the comforts of southern country life among the prosperous class, till the outburst of that storm in which the fortunes and happiness of so many patriots were wrecked.

At the commencement of the war Richard Richardson was captain of a company of militia in the brigade of his father General Richardson; and with him embraced the quarrel of the Colonies, in defence of their chartered rights. Both were zealous, firm, and influential officers. The captain was frequently called out with his company by order of the new government; and his first expedition was against the loyalists in the upper districts, incited by the royal governor, Lord William Campbell. General Richardson commanded, and was aided by Colonel William Thompson which his regiment of regulars called the Rangers. The enemy was dispersed, most of their leaders captured, and the arms and ammunition they had seized recovered. Captain Richardson was appointed with his mounted men to guard the prisoners to Charleston. This occurrence took place at the close of 1775; and the winter having set in earlier than usual with uncommon severity, the young soldiers suffering much from the cold, sleet, and snow, it was called the Snow Campaign.

When the three regiments of regulars were raised and officered in 1775, Captain Richardson and his father were retained in the militia on account of their great popularity and influence; Edward, a younger brother, being appointed captain of the Rangers under Colonel Thompson. A second regiment of riflemen, however, was raised in March of the following year; and Richard Richardson was appointed captain under Colonel Thomas Sumter. From this time, during the six succeeding years, he was able to be very little at home with his family.

At the surrender of Charleston he was taken prisoner with his father and brother. In violation of the terms of capitulation, Richard was sent to a military station on John's Island, where he nearly fell a victim to the small-pox. The British having failed to observe the conditions on which he had surrendered, as soon as he recovered sufficiently to move about, he made his escape; and being disguised by the effects of the disease, returned to the neighborhood of his home, where he concealed himself in the Santee Swamp. This extensive swampland borders the river for many miles, presenting to the view a vast plain of dense woods which seem absolutely impervious. The recesses of those dark thickets, where the trees grow close together, and are interlaced by a luxuriant growth of giant creepers, often afforded hiding-places for the hunted Americans. At this time the British troops had overrun the State; and Colonel Tarleton had made the house of Captain Richardson, with some others, a station for his regiment of cavalry. They lived luxuriously on the abundance of his richly-stocked and well-cultivated plantation; while Mrs. Richardson and her children, it is said, were restricted to a single apartment, and allowed but a scanty share of the provisions furnished from her own stores. Here was an occasion for the exercise of self-denial, that the wants of one dear to her might be supplied. Every day she sent food from her small allowance to her husband in the swamp, by an old and faithful negro, in whose care and discretion she could implicitly trust. She had expected the seizure of her horses and cattle by the British, and had sent Richardson's favorite riding-horse into the swamp for concealment, with a few cattle which she wished to save for future need. Every thing that fell into the enemy's hands was consumed. The horse was shut up in a covered pen in the woods, which had once been used for holding corn; and he thence received the name of Corncrib. He was subsequently killed in the battle of Eutaw.

Mrs. Richardson not only sent provisions to her husband in his place of shelter, but sometimes ventured to visit him, taking with her their little daughter. These stolen meetings were full of consolation to the fugitive soldier. The spot he had chosen for his retreat was a small knoll or elevation in the heart of the swamp, called "John's Island," by way of distinction from another in the neighborhood, occupied by other whigs, which bore the name of "Beech Island." On this many of their initials may still be seen, carved on the bark of the trees.