"Don't Tread on Me": Christopher Gadsden and His Flag

Christopher Gadsden of South Carolina is best known today as the designer of the iconic "Gadsden Flag." The flag features a rattlesnake on a bright yellow background, with the words "DONT TREAD ON ME" at the bottom. The snake is coiled to strike. 

The flag's message was directed towards the British government: Step on the liberties of the American people at your peril. The snake has thirteen rattles, symbolizing the thirteen colonies that were soon to declare their independence. [Image: Gadsden Flag]

Gadsden displayed the flag at a meeting of the South Carolina Provincial Congress in February 1776 to great acclaim. It became a popular symbol of Patriot resistance. In recent years it has been appropriated by far right groups to show their defiance of ... whatever they are currently defying, usually the federal government and other conspirators against "freedom."  It featured prominently in the January 6 insurrection that led to the storming of the Capitol Building in Washington, DC. [Image: January 6, 2021]

There is much more to Gadsden's story than his flag, however. First, a little background. Gadsden was born in Charleston, South Carolina in 1724. His father, Thomas Gadsden, was a former British naval officer who had been appointed as customs collector for the port of Charleston. 

Thomas sent young Christopher to Bristol, England to be educated. Returning to America in 1740, he worked briefly as an apprentice in a Philadelphia counting house. He inherited a sizeable fortune when his parents died in 1741. During King George's War (1744-1748) he served as a purser on a British naval vessel. Afterwards, he became a merchant and planter. 

In 1767 he built a large wharf in Charleston. Gadsden's Wharf became a major receiving point for enslaved Africans. More than 100,000 were landed there between 1767 and 1808, when the legal slave trade ended. 

During the construction of the wharf, Gadsden quipped that he was going to "fill the foundation with imported Scotchmen, who are fit for nothing better." It was a joke, but it reflected his dislike of Scots, in particular Scottish merchants, who he viewed as undeserving beneficiaries of British trade policies. His dislike of Scots may also have derived from his service in the Cherokee War of 1760, when he clashed with Highland Scots officers. 

In the years leading up to the Revolution, many colonials accused Scots of conspiring to undermine their freedom. [Image: Scots Lord Bute and Chief Justice Lord Mansfield (in center) conspiring against American liberty, 1775. In fact, neither had any influence over British colonial policy at the time] 

  

In 1757 Gadsden was elected to the South Carolina Commons House of Assembly. He soon began to clash openly with the royal governors over British trade and taxation policies. In 1766, the assembly appointed him to represent South Carolina at the Stamp Act Congress in New York City. He was one of the most radical delegates at the Congress and formed an alliance and friendship with the equally radical Sam Adams of Boston, leader of the Sons of Liberty in Boston. Gadsden has often been called the "Sam Adams of the South."

Gadsden became a leader of the Charleston Sons of Liberty, who terrorized the town looking for stamps and other evidence of pro-British leanings. Among the houses they raided was that of planter and slave trader Henry Laurens. According to Laurens, they frightened his sick wife Eleanor half to death. He threw them his cellar keys and told them to help themselves to wine. They found no stamps, apologized and left. Laurens subsequently supported Gadsden and the Liberty Boys, but with some hesitation. 

In 1771, future Patriot William Henry Drayton called Gadsden a madman who ought to be in Bedlam. But Drayton was then defending the British Crown. After he abruptly switched sides in the early 1770s, the two became allies in the Patriot cause. 

As the conflict with Britain escalated, Gadsden was elected to the First and Second Continental Congresses in Philadelphia. In early 1776, he left Congress to assume command of the newly formed 1st South Carolina Regiment and serve in the South Carolina Provincial Congress. It was then that he first displayed his famous flag. He also brought a pamphlet written by a recent immigrant from England, calling for American independence, Common Sense by Thomas Paine. It was less well received. 

The interim President of South Carolina, John Rutledge, appointed Gadsden brigadier and commander of the state's military forces. In 1778 Gadsden helped draft a new state constitution under which he became lieutenant governor.  

When the British besieged Charleston in the spring of 1780, Rutledge left for the backcountry to rally resistance. Gadsden remained to help coordinate the defense of the city. 

By the middle of April, however, the British had nearly encircled Charleston. Benjamin Lincoln, the commander of the Southern Continental Army, decided that his only option besides surrender was to flee with his army while escape remained possible. 

Word got out to Gadsden. He and several of his councillors stormed into Lincoln's headquarters as he was discussing his proposals with his officers. Gadsden accused Lincoln of cowardice. Lincoln agreed to stay.  

In early May, the British unleashed a ferocious bombardment of the city. Gadsden led another delegation to see General Lincoln. This time, he demanded that Lincoln surrender to save the property and lives of the citizens. On May 12, Lincoln surrendered. It was the worst defeat for the Patriot forces in the war. The entire army, more than 5000 men, was made prisoner. 

The militia and many civilian leaders were initially given parole; that is, allowed to go free, as long as they did not continue to oppose the Crown. A few weeks after the surrender, however, the British arrested Gadsden and about twenty other rebel leaders on the grounds that they were plotting further resistance. 

Shipped to the British stronghold in St. Augustine, Florida, they remained prisoners until the following summer. The commander in St. Augustine offered them parole and the freedom of the town. Gadsden alone refused it. The British, he argued, had already violated their original promise of parole. 

In July 1781, the British released the prisoners on parole and sent them to Philadelphia. Gadsden returned to South Carolina in time to serve in the Jacksonborough Assembly in early 1782. At the time,  Charleston was still under British occupation. The Assembly elected him as governor, but he declined the office due to poor health. 

One of the most contentious items on the Assembly's agenda was drawing up a list of Loyalists to be punished after the war, which was nearing its end. Proposed punishments ranged from banishment and confiscation of property to amercements or fines. 

Gadsden shocked the assembly by urging leniency towards Loyalists. His words had little effect on the majority of delegates, who shouted him down. They demanded severe punishments. Some accused Gadsden of trying to protect Loyalists in his family. 

Thousands of Loyalists left South Carolina with the British or shortly thereafter. (Some were later able to get their punishments reduced and returned.)

Gadsden lived for another 23 years. He sat in the state convention of 1788 that ratified the United States Constitution. After 1798 he lived in Charleston at the house he built at 329 East Bay Street. He died in 1805 after falling from a horse. [Image: Gadsden House and Gadsden in old age]

 

 Further Reading: 

John Drayton, Memoirs of the American Revolution 2 vols., Charleston, 1821. Based on documents John's father William Henry Drayton had collected prior to his death.

The Papers of Henry Laurens. 16 vols., Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1972-2003. Volumes dealing with the 1760s and 1770s.

Stanly Godbold, Jr., and Robert Woody, Christopher Gadsden and the American Revolution (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1983).

Daniel McDonough, Christopher Gadsden and Henry Laurens: The Parallel Lives of Two American Patriots (Susquehanna University Press, 2000).

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The Crimean War and Modern Culture

The Crimean War (1854-1856) is not one of the most famous or important conflicts in history. Very few people have understood the reasons for it, then or now. Even fewer probably care. 

It was, however, the biggest conflict among the Great Powers of Europe between the Napoleonic Wars (ended 1815) and World War I (began 1914). And it had some enduring cultural effects.

In 1854, Great Britain, France and the Ottoman Empire allied to stop Russian expansion into the Balkans. In particular, they feared a Russian capture of Constantinople (Istanbul) which would give Russia control of the Bosporus Straits between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. 

The leaders of Catholic France were also determined to prevent the Russian Orthodox Church from gaining control of the religious sites in the Holy Land. No doubt Christ would have approved. 

Most of the fighting took place on the Crimean Peninsula. The allies besieged the largest Russian naval base in the Black Sea, Sevastopol. After a protracted campaign marked by incompetence and suffering on both sides, they did eventually capture Sevastopol, after which the war ended. 

When it was over lots of folks scratched their heads, wondering what all the carnage was about. The allies gave Sevastopol back to Russia, and went home. In the next big European war, World War I, Britain, France, and Russia were on the same side, and the Ottomans were on the other. Diplomacy is like that. 

The Crimean War is remembered for lots of things. The nursing Lady of the Lamp, Florence Nightingale, became an icon, though even she later questioned how effective her work had been. What she did after the war is far more important historically and medically. 

It was also the first war covered by professional journalists. Reporters like William Howard Russell and Howard Fenton were the first true war correspondents. They were able to send stories to their newspapers in almost real time due to the advent of railways and the  telegraph.

Incompetence, of course, is also high on the list of memorable things about the Crimean War. The British commander, Lord Raglan, kept referring to the enemy as the French, who were his allies. But then his last action had been at Waterloo against Napoleon, 40 years before. [Image: Fitzroy Henry James Somersett, AKA, Lord Raglan]

Lord Raglan died during the middle of the war, but not before issuing a famously confusing order for a direct cavalry attack on a heavily fortified Russian position bristling with artillery. 

The almost suicidal attack has become notorious as one of the most gallant blunders in military history. Alfred (Lord) Tennyson wrote a famous poem about it. Films have been made about it. I refer of course to the Charge of the Light Brigade. Onward, into the Valley of Death and all that, as Tennyson put it. [A Victorian painting of the charge by Richard Caton Woodville is at the top of this post.]

Raglan also survived long enough to give his name to a fashion: raglan sleeves. His lordship liked jackets with sleeves that did not end at the shoulders, but continued to the neck, supposedly because he lost an arm at Waterloo. The style soon became fashionable back home, although in pullovers (sweaters), not jackets. 

The man who commanded the Light Brigade itself was also a fashion influencer. James Brudenell was a strict disciplinarian with a love for designing fancy uniforms for his men. His competence as a military commander and commitment to the truth have often been questioned. 

Better known by his title, Lord Cardigan, Brudenell allegedly liked to lounge in a buttoned sweater or waistcoat without a collar. Merchants back in the UK quickly began promoting such items as "cardigans" and the name stuck. [Image: James Brudenell, Earl of Cardigan, but not in a cardigan]

The Charge of the Light Brigade took place on the same day as another famous action, equally brave and much more useful to the allied side. Five hundred of the 93d Highlanders, supported by a small detachment of marines and some Turkish infantry, repelled Russian cavalry numbering between 2,000 and 3,000.

They were all that stood in the way of the Russian objective: capturing the Allied supply base at Balaclava, or Balaklava (not be confused with the dessert, baklava). The Highlanders' commander, General Sir Colin Campbell, positioned them directly in front of the advancing Russians with the ominous words, "There is no retreat from here, men. You must die where you stand." 

As it happened they didn't have to. After three volleys from the Highlanders, the second and third highly effective, the Russians retreated, pursued by the Heavy Brigade. 

The British press dubbed the Highlanders' stand "The Thin Red Line." Robert Gibb later produced an iconic if romanticized painting of the event, which hangs in the National Gallery of Scotland. 

If you search the words "Thin Red Line" on the internet today, you will be inundated by posts about a film of 1998 by that name, which is about the Battle of Guadalcanal in World War II. But keep looking and you will find others about the original event of 1854, and an ad for a shirt company. The internet is full of surprises.  

A controversial term often used by police and their supporters today, "The Thin Blue Line" also derives from the fame of that brief heroic action at Balaclava. The allusion to the original term is based on the notion that the police are the thin line that stands between society and barbaric chaos. Unlike the red-coated Highlanders, the police generally wear blue. 

It is unknown when people began using the term "Thin Blue Line," but it has been in use for a century at least. In recent years the "Thin Blue Line" has been appropriated by right-wingers and white nationalists in the USA.

I am not done with Balaclava yet. As you might have guessed by now, the place gave its name to the balaclava hat or cap, which helped protect the face and head from extreme cold. [Image: Balaclava hat]

The winter of 1854-1855 was extremely cold, and British soldiers suffered terribly from the effects, and from disease. Due to an antiquated and incompetent logistics system, cold weather clothing and supplies did not arrive on schedule. 

In response, women in the UK took up their needles and knitted thousands of the woolen caps that became known as balaclavas. Terrorists, criminal gangs, and armed police are forever grateful for the anonymity, if not the warmth, of the headgear. 

One more little thing before I cease. The first allied victory of the Crimean War, the Battle of the Alma, occurred shortly after they landed their armies on the peninsula, in September 1854. It took its name from a nearby river.

After news of the battle reached the UK, many British families began to name their daughters Alma. The name already existed but was not common. In Latin, it means "nurturing soul." It became much more popular after the battle of that name, but declined in popularity in the 20th century. Some British pubs adopted the name "The Alma" and continue to use it, including the one below in Wandsworth.

I hope you have enjoyed this feeble attempt to show how even a relatively minor war can have major cultural effects. 

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Arthur Middleton: Flawed Founding Father

South Carolina's Arthur Middleton (1742-1787) is probably best known as a signer the American Declaration of Independence. Visitors to Middleton Place near Charleston may recall that he owned the rice plantation there, erected by his father Henry and famed for its landscaped gardens. 

In the 1750s, his parents sent him to England to be educated, a privilege largely restricted to the sons of wealthy planters. He did his preparatory education at two of England's most prestigious "public" schools, Harrow and Westminster. He then attended university at Trinity Hall, Cambridge and the Middle Temple in London, where he studied law. 

He returned to South Carolina in the early 1760s, and married the daughter of another wealthy planter family, Mary Izard. In 1764, Arthur's father gave him Middleton Place and moved to The Oaks, a plantation near Goose Creek where he had been born.    

In 1768, Arthur and Mary went to England and did not return until 1771. Shortly before their return, the American artist Benjamin West, who had settled in Britain, painted a family portrait of Middleton with his wife Mary Izard Middleton and their infant son Henry. Ironically, West would soon become the court painter to George III, soon to be Middleton's nemesis. [Image: Arthur Middleton, and the full family portrait]

Upon his return, Arthur emerged as one of the the most radical opponents of British colonial policies. he joined the American Whig Party, who later dubbed themselves the "Patriots." He allied with his friend and neighbor, William Henry Drayton of Drayton Hall, who had swung from being a firm supporter of the Crown to one of its most vocal opponents. 

Both men served on many of the committees the extralegal Provincial Congress of South Carolina established in 1775. They used the committees to effectively run the colony and render the royal government virtually helpless, violating many laws and personal liberties in the process. 

Through the Secret Committee, they used the Sons of Liberty to harass those believed to be loyal to the Crown or neutral. Their methods of persuasion included intimidation, illegal house searches, and for the most vocal, tarring and feathering, sometimes followed by banishment from the colony. 

In early 1776, the Provincial Congress gradually turned in favor of complete independence. By this time open war between colonists and Britain had begun in New England. The Congress elected Middleton as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. He replaced his father Henry, who was much less radical than he was. Their differences led to a serious rift in the family. 

As noted above, Arthur was among those who signed the Declaration of Independence.  A few days before that event, Patriot forces in South Carolina had repulsed a British attack on Charleston at the Battle of Sullivan's Island. It was the first major victory of the war for the Americans. 

During the next three years, the war hardly touched South Carolina. But in the late 1770s, the British adopted what they called the Southern Strategy. They captured Savannah in December 1778 and set their eyes on Charleston, then the wealthiest city in America. The city surrendered to a British and Loyalist force in May 1780. It was the worst Patriot defeat of the war, as the entire Southern Army was captured. [See The British Seize Charleston]

The surrender was also a disaster for Middleton. After landing on the Charleston peninsula, British soldiers ransacked Middleton Place, beheading many of its statues. 

Worse followed. The British arrested Middleton and about twenty others they thought were plotting further resistance. The prisoners, who included Christopher Gadsden and Edward Rutledge, were shipped to the British stronghold at St. Augustine. 

They remained in Florida until July 1781, when the British paroled them and sent them to Philadelphia. By then, the war was nearing its close. Lord Cornwallis surrendered to General Washington and a French force at Yorktown in October. 

Middleton returned to South Carolina at war's end. He died of a fever, probably malaria, at Middleton Place in January 1787 and was buried there in a tomb. [Image: Middleton's tomb at Middleton Place]

His legacy was mixed. A fervent Patriot he surely was. Yet some of the measures he supported as a member of the Secret Committee violated the very notions of liberty he espoused and he lived a life made possible by the enslavement of hundreds of his fellow beings. 

Side note: Middleton's descendants include Charles Middleton, who starred as the evil Ming the Merciless in the Flash Gordon films of the 1930s. I remember Ming well. I used to sit and watch the films on TV on Saturday mornings in the 1950s, absolutely fascinated!   

Further Reading:

John Drayton, Memoirs of the American Revolution 2 vols., Charleston, 1821. Based on documents John's father William Henry Drayton had collected prior to his death.

The Papers of Henry Laurens. 16 vols., Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1972-2003. Volumes dealing with the 1760s and 1770s.