[ Previous ] [ Next ]

In August, 1780, Banastre Tarleton and George Hanger left Charleston with seventy mounted men, under orders from Lord Cornwallis to join Lord Rawdon in Camden. They travelled by a circuitous route, and as they approached Salem, they learned that the rebellious Whigs in the area were anticipating the arrival of Lieutenant Colonel William Washington. Tarleton also learned that one of the leaders of the local Whigs was James Bradley, an elderly man who had served in the General Assembly.

Being in need of a guide to get his men through the swamps around the Black River, Tarleton came up with an outrageous plan. His men were dressed in their "summer whites," white linen smocks rather than their regular uniforms, which kept them from being immediately identifiable. Tarleton, therefore, strolled up to Bradley's front door and calmly introduced himself to the old man as William Washington.

The Bradleys served dinner to their unexpected guest and discussed local politics. Comfortable in the presence of a Continental officer, Bradley is said to have revealed considerable information about the local political situation, and details of plans to defend the area from British and Tory encroachment.

Tarleton asked Bradley to guide the column to Camden, where he said they planned to attack Lord Rawdon's command. Bradley agreed, and rounded up a few local militiamen to form an escort.

When the column finally arrived within a safe distance of Camden, Tarleton pulled out his pistol, aimed it at Bradley's head, and introduced himself properly. He and his men conducted Bradley's party to Camden, where they were thrown into jail. When she later heard of her husband's captivity, Mrs. Bradley "could not believe that the handsome young colonel who had eaten her bread was such a barbarian."

How in the world did the small, red-haired Tarleton, with his Lancashire brogue, expect to pass for William Washington, who was a 6-foot-plus, corpulent, dark-haired giant from Virginia? It seems impossible, but through sheer unadulterated chutzpah, he somehow managed to carry it off.

See McCrady (1) and Bass for anecdotal accounts of the deception. As far as I know, it cannot be traced back to primary evidence, but it contains solid information on where, when and to whom it occurred, so it seems unlikely to be entirely apocryphal.

In his novel, Cato's War, Guy Wheeler presents an interesting guess on how the incident could have come about, speculating that it may have been a matter of quick-thinking on Tarleton's part in a bad situation rather than something that was pre-planned.