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Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The Black Patriot


By Glenda Reynolds

It was a time filled with much turmoil before the Revolutionary War. I was once a slave, purchased by the Smith family in Charleston, South Carolina. But Mr. Smith gave me my freedom. It was then that I chose to go by the name of Thomas Smith. There were other former slaves who chose to work the Smith plantation along side of me. In return we received a fair pay and a roof over our heads. We were free to come and go as we pleased. Many black folk in those days were not so fortunate. One man named Jamal was a slave at the Cooper plantation that bordered the Smith plantation. Mr. Cooper treated his slaves very badly. He took better care of his livestock than these people. Sometimes Jamal would tell me that both women and men would be beaten so badly at times that it took days for them to recover.
One evening I accompanied Mr. Smith into the local tavern. A soldier from the Continental Army was recruiting men to fight the British.
“I feel that it is my duty to serve my country, Mr. Smith,” I said as I watched him wipe the froth from his warm beer off his mustache. Smith set his mug down. He looked at me with those clear blue eyes.
“I wouldn’t fault you for serving at all. On the contrary, the family and I would be mighty proud of you!” Smith said as he placed his hand on my shoulder.
Just then we saw Mr. Cooper and Jamal approach the table of the recruiter.
“I would like to give you my slave Jamal to fight in the war,” said Mr. Cooper.
Jamal didn’t look very eager to be there, though he was submissive to his master’s wishes.
“Sign here please,” requested the recruiter.
“I can’t read or write,” replied Jamal.
“Just make your mark then.”
I stood up and walked to the recruiter and willingly signed my name. Cooper didn’t look impressed by my penmanship. Instead he looked at me with eyes filled with intense dislike. After that Cooper left the tavern, leaving Jamal in the hands of the soldier. He eventually came to sit with Mr. Smith and me.
The first chance that Jamal got, he ran away. He traveled all the way to Virginia with some other slaves. He heard that a British man named Lord Dunmore was recruiting black men to fight the rebels. In return the slaves would be given their freedom. Dunmore called his soldiers the Royal Ethiopian Regiment. His men carried muskets and wore shirts that read, “Liberty to Slaves”.
Back in South Carolina I was given my uniform and one pair of boots. I would never receive anything else in the way of clothes or boots again from the military. My regiment fought mightily against the British. We fought using guerrilla warfare against the red coats who were used to standing in plain view to shoot their enemy. The British pushed to the South. We were fighting near the Smith plantation. Under cover of darkness I entered the Smith’s house. Mr. Smith cocked his revolver and asked me to raise my hands. I turned around slowly.
“Mr. Smith, the British are here. Get your wife and children out of here – now!”
“By God, man, I almost shot you! I’m glad to see you that you’re alive!”
“We won’t be if we wait longer.”
I helped round up the children who hid in the fields with their mother. I also roused the black folk and told them to hide too. Soon British infantry came through the woods and onto the property. There were all kinds of crashing noises as they looted the place. When they were finished looting, they torched the house. The Brits soon headed off to the Cooper plantation where the Coopers didn’t stand a chance. Mr. Cooper was shot, his animals were killed, his house burned down, and the slaves were taken away by the soldiers. We felt it was safe enough to battle our house fire. We were able to save most of the house. At least the Smith’s still had a roof over their heads.
While thousands of slaves escaped from the south, some of these joined up with British forces in the north while some migrated to other colonies to seek a life of freedom. We heard that smallpox killed off most of the black loyalists enlisted in the Royal Ethiopian Regiment. I never heard from Jamal again.



France declared war on Great Britain and allied itself to the United States. They did this primarily for revenge for their losses in the French and Indian War. They contributed money, materials, navy, and troops to help win the war against Great Britain.
It was the Battle of Cowpens in Cherokee County South Carolina that turned the war in favor of the colonials. It demoralized the British and set into motion events that would end the war. It wasn’t until the Battle of Yorktown in Virginia that the British were finally defeated. Half of the British army had succumbed to malaria. October 19, 1781 the treaty was signed officially ending the war. The Brits wanted to wave their flags, shoulder their muskets, and play an American tune, but they were denied this. We sent them home with their muskets pointing to the ground and their tail between their legs.
I returned to South Carolina to stay in the employ of Mr. Smith. I helped make repairs to the damaged house. Soon Thanksgiving was upon us as we celebrated with a grand meal. A cornucopia graced the center of the table as we held hands and gave thanks to God.  I was seated next to a beautiful woman that I would later marry. Nothing gives me more joy than to have given my service for the idea of America, the land of the free, the home of the brave.


  

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