AMERICAN REVOLUTION RENDITION

My quadruple Great Grandparents Thomas and Susannah (Harrington) Hightower were living on the Tygar River near Spartanburg, South Carolina in 1780. Having heard the plea for additional manpower, Thomas joined Colonel Benjamin Roebuck’s Colonial Regiment. While he was away on military duty, a militia group referred to as Tories, those American colonists loyal to the King of England, stormed the Hightower homestead and burst into my ancient grandmother’s house.

Following is an account I have written based on the events of that evening:

Susannah had been helping her son, John, with a particularly long word from his reader, and content that he had mastered one page and moved on to the next, she sat down in her rocking chair by the fire.

Suddenly the front wooden door flew open. Even in the midst of this terrible war, custom won out and she had forgotten to lock the door. Standing before her were eight heavily armed men, wearing an all-too familiar, but hated uniform. Susannah screamed for the children to run to the cellar. She realized that this rude intrusion was certainly no courtesy call.

Grandmother Hightower immediately recognized the leader of this band of traitors to the cause of independence. Bill Cunningham was an unusually handsome man, but known far and wide for his viciousness and unyielding retribution. It was not for no reason he had been nicknamed “Bloody Bill,” a name he apparently relished.

When the major addressed her by name, Susannah felt a shiver creep slowly up her spine, and she felt faint.

“Mrs. Hightower. You needn’t be afraid. We’re not here to hurt you. Answer a question, and we’ll be on our way, and leave you and your children alone.”

Somehow Susannah doubted the sincerity of his words.

“I know your husband has joined that vagabond band of misfits who are determined to put an end to everything we hold dear in these colonies. Well, Ma’am, we’re not going to let that happen.”

My grandmother started to speak,

“Sir, I protest…”

Bloody Bill cut her off.

“You’re not in the position to protest anything. Sit back down… NOW!”

My brave, but equally wise grandmother dropped into the rocking chair, suddenly feeling as weak as water.

“There now. That’s good. May I call you, Susannah?”

And without waiting for a reply, he continued.

“Susannah, I need you to answer me one question. Where’s your husband?”

And contrary to his earlier promise, he asked another question.

“Cat got your tongue? Where’s your husband, and who is his commanding officer?”

Susannah cleared her throat and fear registered in her voice.

“Sir, I know who you are. And I know you’re up to no good. I have no intention whatsoever, in telling you where my husband is.”

Bloody Bill’s contemptuous smile now turned downwards in a frown, and then a scowl. He would not be manipulated by the likes of a frail, little woman.

“One more chance, ma dear… if you want to live.”

Susannah realized the stakes of this not so pleasant game, and she steeled herself for the inevitable.

In a voice just above a whisper, and with tears stinging her eyes now, she sealed her fate.

“I cannot… I cannot bring myself to tell you. I have been true to my husband these twenty years. I am not about to betray him now. Do what you want, but you’ll get no answer from me.”

Well, my friends. I would like to tell you that Bloody Bill Cunningham marched right out of there, and took his band of “n’er do wells” with him… He didn’t. Turning to his chief lieutenant, he screamed,

“I’ll have none of this. No Sir, I will not. Lieutenant Morrison, kill her! Do it now!”

A look of utter amazement possessed the officer. He reached for his sword, but his hand seemed frozen in mid-air. Bloody Bill was not used to having his orders delayed, and he jerked Morrison’s sword out of the scabbard, and raised it high above his head.

My ancient grandmother had only enough time to utter the few last words she would ever speak on this side of eternity. With arms wrapped tightly about herself, she closed her eyes, and bowed her head.

“God forgive you, Bloody Bill. Dear Lord receive my spirit.”

…And the deed was done.

And I hasten to remind you that this is but one story among multiplied thousands of similar stories, which include the ancestors of those assembled here today, and which have followed us throughout all our nation’s wars.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

(Following is a slightly different account of my 4x great Grandmother’s murder)

9-22-18

Hello and thank you for adding me to the Hightower Family page! I am Thomas and Susannah (Harrington) Hightower's 6th-great granddaughter. It's a pleasure to meet you.

I'm currently researching Susannah's death during the American Revolution. She is listed in the Historical Collections of the Joseph Habersham Chapter, DAR, Volume: Volume 1, Author: Lucy Cook Peel (Mrs. William L. Peel), Publication: Genealogical Publishing Co., Baltimore, Maryland, 1967-68, Note: Page 232: "The notorious Tory, Bill Cunningham, had his headquarters in a house not far from where Wellford is now situated. They would come and carry off their horses and other stock and destroy their provisions in the most wanton manner. She used to relate other barbarous deeds committed by Cunningham and his infamous band. After leaving this county he went to the northern portion of Greenville county, and was guilty of cruel acts.

He went to the home of Mr. Hightower, and because his wife would not, or could not, tell where her husband was concealed, compelled her to stand on a stump and riddled her body with bullets." She was murdered on the spot for not divulging her husband, Thomas Hightower Jr.'s whereabouts.

The only reference in the DAR book is from the Carolina Spartan of January 23, 1895, under the heading of “Tales of Long Ago.” I haven't seen a copy of this article yet (contacting Spartanburg SC library because this hasn't been digitized). Any help or information about Susannah would be appreciated! I'll share whatever I learn with the group.

Melissa L.