The American Revolution Revisited: A War Between History and Memory

The 250th anniversary of the American Revolution and War for Independence is nearly upon us. It is destined to reach new heights of commercialism, with beer companies no doubt leading the pack. Corny commemorations and tall tales will all be a part of the celebration. Will there be room for calm reflection on the events of 1775-1783? Not much, I fear, especially in the Age of Trump and MAGA. In the best of times, dispassionate analysis of great events tends to be in short supply, overwhelmed and marginalized by the popular taste for hoopla. On this occasion calm analysis is likely to be obliterated by the Trumpets of MAGA. 

The revolution will be celebrated as a great victory for liberty and equality. It was, though more in the rhetoric of the Declaration of Independence than anything in reality. Awkwardly, it was also a war to preserve slavery. 

In 1773, British judge Lord Mansfield declared in the Somerset Case that slavery had no basis in English law. The Somerset ruling aroused panic among some slaveholders, mostly in the southern colonies. It helped unite them with the northern colonies, where the rallying cry was the more historically palatable "no taxation without representation." Traditional narratives of the revolution have tended to emphasize Britain's attacks on colonial liberty while ignoring the colonist's denial of liberty to the enslaved. 

Alarmed slaveholders denied the right of Parliament to pass laws affecting the internal or domestic affairs of the colonies. Slavery, they argued, was a domestic American issue. In 1775, on the verge of war, they accused the British of plotting slave revolts and Indian attacks as a means of subduing the rebellious colonies. In 1776, they decided that independence was necessary to prevent emancipation and loss of control over enslaved Blacks. 

In that sense the War for Independence had more in common with the Civil War than is generally acknowledged. Looked at from the perspective of the enslaved population, both were wars for liberty. Many Blacks absorbed the rhetoric of their white masters and saw the Revolutionary War as an opportunity to secure their freedom, by joining the British. Historians estimate that around 100,000 enslaved persons ran off to British lines between 1775 and 1783, 25,000 in South Carolina alone. They were not complacent bystanders, but active participants in the struggles that gave birth to a nation. 

History is often unpleasant, messy, and chaotic. It is seldom as simple as we would like it to be. Historical myth is the opposite: neat, generally pleasing -- at least to our prejudices -- and comfortably black and white. The myths are "alternative facts" or "fake history." Not surprisingly, myths tend to dominate if not smother actual history in the popular consciousness, the "public memory." By "actual history" I do not mean the "truth" but the result of painstaking historical research, writing, and interpretation. If well done, the result is our best current approximation of the truth. In that sense, history resembles science. Science is a more exact business, of course. Scientists can use repeated experiments to confirm their hypotheses. Historians do not have that luxury. They cannot repeat history. In most cases, they would not wish to. 

Historian Lewis Namier wrote that the writing of history "is not a visit of condolence." He might have added that the same is true of reading it. Learning our history is often difficult, troubling and confusing. If it never is, we are reading the wrong stuff. Some people avoid the problem by ignoring history, just as others avoid ethical problems by ignoring philosophy. Henry Ford is alleged to have said that "history is bunk." Apparently, he didn't say exactly that, but he did reject the past as dead and meaningless, not worth bothering about. 

Abraham Lincoln disagreed with Ford. In his Second Inaugural Address he declared, "My Fellow Americans, we cannot escape history." He understood that the terrible war nearing its end was the result of the country's failure to abolish slavery early in its history. Novelist William Faulkner held a similar view: "The past isn't dead. It is not even past." His characters are prisoners of their history, in this case the history of the Deep South. 

Karl Marx wrote in much the same vein in The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte (1852): "The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living." Marx prefaced that statement with "Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past." One does not have to be a Marxist to agree with that statement. Our history, like our biology, constrains us, for good or ill.

Peter McCandless, REMARKABLE CHARLESTONIANS IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION (Arcadia, The History Press, 2025)

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Admiral Anson of Charleston and Carshalton

Admiral George Anson is best known for commanding a British naval squadron on an epic circumnavigation of the world between 1740 and 1744. Britain was at war with Spain, the War of Jenkins' Ear, and his goal was to raid Spanish possessions. 

The voyage was in some ways a disaster. Of his six ships, only one completed the journey. Most of his men died of scurvy, then the scourge of long voyages. But he did capture a Spanish ship loaded with treasure near the Philippines. [Image: George Anson, by Thomas Hudson]

By the time he returned to Britain, the country was also at war with France. In 1747, Anson captured an entire French squadron at the First Battle of Cape Finisterre, which netted him an enormous treasure. The government rewarded him with a peerage, as First Baron Anson. In 1751 the government elevated him to the post of First Lord of the Admiralty. In that capacity, he was responsible for reforms that greatly improved the efficiency of the Royal Navy during the Seven Years War (1756-63). He also commissioned an investigation into the causes and cure for scurvy. Anson died near the end of the war, in 1762, aged 65.

I have a "special connection" to Anson. No, we are not related, except maybe through Adam and Eve. It is this: he lived in two places I have lived in, in Charleston, South Carolina in America and Carshalton, Surrey, in England.

I first learned about Anson's Charleston connection while working as a history professor at the College of Charleston. One of the neighborhoods of the city is named after him, Ansonborough. So are Anson Street, the Anson Restaurant, Ansonborough House, and the Ansonborough Inn. George Street was also named for him. Several other streets were named for ships he commanded, but they have other names now.

In 1724, when he was only 26 but already a captain, the Royal Navy sent Anson to Charleston in command of a small squadron to defend the city and its region from pirate attacks. He remained in that capacity until 1735, long after pirates had ceased to be a major threat. 

In 1726, he purchased 64 acres of land on the Charleston peninsula. That land later became the town's first "suburb," Ansonborough. According to one story, perhaps apocryphal, Anson won the money he used to buy the land in a card game. True or not, gambling was a common pastime of the elite. 

Now for Carshalton. In 1749 Anson leased Carshalton House, a country house originally built around 1700 for a tobacco merchant, Edward Carlton. He went bankrupt and the house passed to several other owners before Anson leased it. Anson lived there until 1752, when he moved to a house he had built in Hertfordshire, Moor Park. [Two Images of Carshalton House, a mid-19th century lithograph and a modern photo.]

At the time of the lithograph Carshalton House was being used by the government as a preparatory school for cadets of the Royal Artillery and Engineers. In the late 19th century, an order of Catholic nuns purchased Carshalton House and grounds. They established a primary and high school for girls there, St. Philomena's. It is still in operation and is only a short walk from my house. 

Most people in Carshalton have probably never heard of Anson. Lots of Charlestonians will be familiar with his name because it is everywhere. How many know why is another matter. But be ye from Charleston or Carshalton, raise a glass for Admiral Anson! I'll raise two! We’ll meet at the Anson Arms pub, as soon as it’s built!

Interestingly, online articles about Anson do not mention his connections to Charleston or Carshalton. If I hadn't lived in both places, I would never have known about them.