3925
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
(Following
is a slightly different account of my 4x great Grandmother’s murder)
9-22-18
I am Thomas and Susannah (Harrington) Hightower's
6th-great granddaughter.
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
Levesque
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