Chapter 4: Eunus Reborn
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“There is a blight in America. A blight, I tell you. It is a most odious blight for it does not poison the body, and it brings forth many sweet-tasting fruits. Yet it is a blight which poisons the soul. Yes, our immaterial and eternal soul which man must protect at all costs lest he face damnation eternal! It is the blight of slavery…”
— Martin Horn, 1820
The Leisteia, otherwise known as the Great Slave Revolt or the American Servile War, began in a remarkably mundane manner. A small band of escaping slaves fled into the coastal marshes of South Carolina, a not particularly rare event in this era, to escape slave catchers. While this ought to have ended with the capture and re-enslavement of the unhappy slaves, the escaped slaves successfully dodged capture and fled further until they arrived on the Hammond Plantation.
Taylor Hammond, the titular owner of the plantation, was an elderly member of the planter class of South Carolina. Hammond was moderately successful throughout his life, and he acquired several dozen slaves over the years, but by 1788, Hammond had manumitted all of his slaves. In an unusually benevolent act for the slave-holding planter class during this era, Hammond even partitioned a portion of his plantation into smaller farm plots for his freed slaves. When the escaped slaves attempted to take refuge among this small community of freedmen, some form of confrontation broke out between the free population and the escaped slaves. Hammond, at some point, became involved in the confrontation and was struck on the head, killing the elderly planter.
The exact events of Hammond’s death remain obscured; no verified account of the event survived the subsequent turmoil. Regardless of whether Hammond could be considered the villain or victim of the events, his death became the initial spark of an intense crackdown on both free blacks and slaves. Provisions of South Carolina’s Slave Codes that had grown lax in enforcement returned in force, and mob violence against free blacks broke out across much of the state through the early months of 1788. This violence provoked a counter-reaction in kind that led to an escalation in the rates of slave escapes and inter-racial violence between the white and black populations of South Carolina. The first small-scale slave revolts began in April, which only provoked harsher escalation from the government of South Carolina.
On April 28th, matters reached their critical point. Governor Thomas Pinckney, who had been a leading voice for the ever more brutal crackdown, suffered an assassination attempt. An escaped slave, John Booth, stabbed Pinckney in the side before being grabbed and beaten to death by the Governor’s guards. While the wound wasn’t directly fatal, Pinckney would die from infection two weeks later. The news of the Governor’s assassination and death sparked mass violence across the state as racially divided communities tore themselves apart and slaves leveraged the chaos to try and secure their long-denied freedom. Pleas for assistance from the government of South Carolina and the new Governor Thomas Gadsden to their fellow states went unanswered as the violence crossed into neighboring North Carolina and Georgia at this point. Forced to contend with their own comparatively limited degree of unrest and slave rebellion, South Carolina’s neighbors were more preoccupied with quelling their domestic crises than helping beleaguered South Carolina.
During this short-lived first period of the Leisteia, the ongoing Regulator war in the northern United States was entirely separate from the Leisteia despite some tenuous attempts by modern historians to connect the two. [1] However, the arrival of the “Ottoman,” Richard Smalls, would definitively connect the two movements. Smalls had been born in Boston, a part of the small free black population of the state. In a twisted irony for a man who would become one of the most prominent slave leaders of the Leisteia, Smalls had made a profession aboard a slaving ship that brought slaves from the Guinea region to Britain’s colonies. By the time of the American War for Independence, Smalls had acquired his own ship, the Finley, and continued to import slaves to the southern United States. During the Regulators’ takeover of Massachusetts, Smalls had been in Boston and initially took no part in the ongoing conflict. Over time, however, Smalls became enamored with the writings of Clark Hopewood, and upon learning of the ongoing slave revolt in South Carolina, the slave trader developed one of history’s more quixotic schemes.
Gathering as many supplies and volunteers as possible, Smalls and a small cohort of men sailed in the Finley down to South Carolina. The expedition faced disaster almost immediately as the Finley was blown off-course in a storm and beached close to Georgetown on May 23rd. Undeterred, Smalls rallied his men, and when clear skies returned, the ship was set alight. Apocryphal claims state that Smalls intended to imitate Cortes with the maneuver, but regardless of the intent, the smoke from the burning wreck attracted investigation from Georgetown. Smalls had those who arrived seized and marched into Georgetown with them bound. As the community in Georgetown did not expect the arrival of Smalls’ expedition, nor had any warning of what Smalls intended, the adventurer “liberated” Georgetown bloodlessly. From the steps of the Prince George church, Smalls would proclaim to the confused onlookers that he was here to free South Carolina from the “twin oppressions of slavery and aristocracy” by the “popular outcry” of South Carolinians.
Smalls successfully established control over Georgetown and the surrounding area, largely thanks to the ongoing confusion in the state. With a secured base of operations, Smalls began reaching out to rebelling slave groups and nearby white settlements, trying to establish a genuine “united” anti-government force under his control. During this initial period of his campaign, Smalls would come to receive the title of Ottoman. To try and build a degree of mystique around himself, Smalls claimed to be the son of an African king and used an African title to identify himself. What precisely this title was is uncertain, although the Akan term for liberator, “Okogyeaman,” has commonly been accepted as the most likely answer. Regardless of what title Smalls intended to adopt, the anglophone population of South Carolina did not properly understand it, and in their misunderstanding, the title became corrupted to “Ottoman.” Smalls, proving his surprisingly accommodating tendencies, adjusted his title and embraced Ottoman instead of his intended title.
The Ottoman’s plans for the new South Carolina intended to unite poor whites and the black population in opposition to the state’s ruling planter class. Smalls saw little success until he was joined by a local white farmer, Martin Horn. Horn was of the impoverished class of white farmers who had struggled to compete with slave labor and possessed little loyalty to the government in Charleston. A young soldier during the War for Independence, fighting under the command of the same Thomas Gadsen who was now Governor of South Carolina, Horn had found himself in a similar indebted situation that the veterans of Massachusetts had. However, Horn suffered through the misery, raising his small family in a relatively isolated farmstead passed onto him by his late father, Elijah Horn. The Horn family had been safe through the chaos of the early Leisteia, with Horn and his sons continuing to labor in their meager holdings as they had previously. But, when Horn heard of Smalls’ expedition and the Ottoman’s subsequent drives to recruit support from the white population, Horn was one of the earliest white volunteers. Possessing a surprising degree of inherent charisma, Horn swiftly rose through the ranks of the Ottoman’s forces and emerged as the de facto leader of the white population under Smalls’ control.
The first serious clash between Ottoman and South Carolinian forces occurred in the Battle of Cherry Hill on June 30th, with Ottoman Smalls successfully leading a victory over the South Carolina militia. The Ottoman would then attempt to lead a march on Charleston, only for the state militia to rebuff this effort in the Battle of Foxbank. Unable to achieve a quick victory, Smalls would instead turn to consolidating control of most of the interior regions of South Carolina. Chief among Smalls’ conquests would be Columbia, the under-construction future capital city of South Carolina. Smalls would move his government to the city, occupying the still unfinished State House and formally proclaiming his rival government to the State of South Carolina, the “Republic of South Carolina,” on July 12th.
Throughout July, Smalls focused on cementing as much control of the chaotic state as possible and establishing his new Republic. Almost all rebellious slaves were swayed to Ottoman Smalls’ banner by promises of freedom. At the same time, many poor whites were brought into the fold by promises to partition plantations and by the urgings of Martin Horn. Smalls began to drill and prepare for a second attempt at seizing Charleston, mustering a sizable army of over eight thousand eager but poorly supplied soldiers. Ottoman Smalls would, however, never have a chance at taking the city, for, on August 3rd, the Legion of the United States and several regiments of the Virginian militia would cross into South Carolina, liberating the town of Gilesboro. [2]
Rumors and panic over the ongoing slave revolt spurred the southern states to support the United States’ efforts to establish the Legion of the United States. As the general overflow of chaos out of South Carolina had only escalated with Smalls’ victories, with slave revolts breaking out as far north as Maryland and a considerable number of these pledging allegiance to the Ottoman, much of the planter elite who dominated the states south of the Potomac feared the worst. In contrast to the Regulators, whose triumph would merely spell a disruption in the government and, at worst, a brief period of mob despotism, a slave revolt posed an existential threat to the very model of civilization adopted by the planter class. And so, with this dread spurring them on, both state governments and private individuals opened their purses and poured out a sufficient amount of wealth to fully build the Legion up to its full strength of four thousand fighting men.
This additional southern backing would re-direct the Legion from its initial intended target of fighting the northern Regulators to instead re-establish order in the south. General George Washington successfully led the Legion to its first victories, fighting against slave rebels and banditry in North Carolina through July. With the Virginian militia joining the Legion near the end of the month, Washington led the fight into South Carolina. After taking Gilesboro, Washington would make a relatively direct course for Columbia. Ottoman Smalls would march against Washington, clashing with the esteemed general several times and suffering repeated defeats. Despite outnumbering Washington’s army and possessing an extremely sturdy morale, the Ottoman’s forces were a poor match for the well-equipped Legion and their Virginian support.
By the end of August, Smalls would abandon Columbia, setting the still-unfinished city alight during the retreat. Two days later, on September 1st, Washington would enter the razed city. Smalls continued to flee west and south, retreating further into more isolated portions of the state. Washington remained hot on Smalls’ tail, aiming to crush the Ottoman and his army. On September 18th, on the outskirts of the town of Ninety Six, Smalls would finally be caught between the Legion of the United States and the Virginian militia, forced to make his stand in the remnants of a British fort built in the region several years prior. Initially, the remnants of the Ottoman’s army made a valiant defense, successfully repulsing the first few attacks by the Legion. The skies overhead grew ever darker as the fighting continued, and by midday, a terrible thunderstorm broke overhead. The rain beat down on the fighting soldiers, which usually would have ended the struggle as gunpowder weapons became useless in the pervasive wet. Yet, unwilling to give the Ottoman a chance to slip away yet again, Washington pressed despite the weather. The desperate defense of the Ottoman’s men became a struggle of man against man, slave rebels against militiamen, paupers against professional soldiers, all clashing in close, hand-to-hand fighting.
In the brawl, Smalls took to the scene personally. Raising a pilfered sword high above his head, he stood alone atop a ruined earthen wall, shouting to his men and trying to rally for a push to break out from the clutching hold of the Legion. Then, the sky barked. A brilliant illumination lit the scene of battle in a blinding iridescence, and for the briefest of moments, the whole battle was clearly lit in all its terrible ferocity. Smalls crumpled to the ground, a blasted wreck. By what must have seemed divine intervention, lightning had struck down Richard Smalls, vanquishing the adventurer and, with him, the dream of a South Carolina freed of slavery. The broken remnants of Smalls’ army surrendered shortly after his death. Many were dead, and many more were missing. Among them was the influential Martin Horn, who briefly disappeared from the pages of history after narrowly escaping the Legion.
The death of Smalls also marked the end of organized revolt during the Leisteia, which in turn ended the possibility that the rebels might overthrow the governments of the southern states. Yet, even as relative security came to the regimes in the southern states, the Leisteia transitioned into its most prolonged and deadliest third period — a bloody epoch of guerilla resistance, banditry, and massacre. The further advance of the Regulators through 1788 forced Washington and the Legion of the United States to return northward, but the Virginian militia would remain and disperse throughout the southern United States. As the most stable and powerful of the southern states, Virginia would expend considerable effort assisting local militias with the long struggle against the now fragmented rebel groups. Half a dozen figures would claim to be the successors to Richard Smalls, with these petty warlords all claiming the title of Ottoman and coming into conflict with each other as often as they fought the regimes of the southern states.
With the shock of the more critical period of the Leisteia still fresh in their memories, but no immediate danger to the domination of the planter classes remaining, the southern states began to turn to the questions of the future even as the Leisteia continued in its bloodletting. Almost to a man, the planters now rejected the doctrine of opposing a firmer union between the component members of the United States. In a notable reflection of the change, the previously relatively liberal South Carolinian historian David Ramsay would publish an article, the Utility of Union and Change in the Current Form of Government, that called for a stronger federal union between the states, a union even more substantial than the Constitution of 1787 planned for. Ramsay’s article even mentioned the possibility that even the Republican nature of the government might need reconsideration, marking the first known public call for abandoning Republicanism in the United States.
In a shock to the most dedicated of the Republicans within the United States, Ramsay’s proposal was met with more praise than critique. Particularly across the southern United States, the First Republic’s failures were becoming ever more noticed and hated; change was now a necessity, and as the Leisteia continued to fester and the Regulator war continued to burn, the change demanded only grew increasingly radical.
[1] The initial slave revolt is either a second POD in this timeline or some pretty hefty butterflies flapping about.
[2] OTL, this town is now known as Marion.
— Martin Horn, 1820
The Leisteia, otherwise known as the Great Slave Revolt or the American Servile War, began in a remarkably mundane manner. A small band of escaping slaves fled into the coastal marshes of South Carolina, a not particularly rare event in this era, to escape slave catchers. While this ought to have ended with the capture and re-enslavement of the unhappy slaves, the escaped slaves successfully dodged capture and fled further until they arrived on the Hammond Plantation.
Taylor Hammond, the titular owner of the plantation, was an elderly member of the planter class of South Carolina. Hammond was moderately successful throughout his life, and he acquired several dozen slaves over the years, but by 1788, Hammond had manumitted all of his slaves. In an unusually benevolent act for the slave-holding planter class during this era, Hammond even partitioned a portion of his plantation into smaller farm plots for his freed slaves. When the escaped slaves attempted to take refuge among this small community of freedmen, some form of confrontation broke out between the free population and the escaped slaves. Hammond, at some point, became involved in the confrontation and was struck on the head, killing the elderly planter.
The exact events of Hammond’s death remain obscured; no verified account of the event survived the subsequent turmoil. Regardless of whether Hammond could be considered the villain or victim of the events, his death became the initial spark of an intense crackdown on both free blacks and slaves. Provisions of South Carolina’s Slave Codes that had grown lax in enforcement returned in force, and mob violence against free blacks broke out across much of the state through the early months of 1788. This violence provoked a counter-reaction in kind that led to an escalation in the rates of slave escapes and inter-racial violence between the white and black populations of South Carolina. The first small-scale slave revolts began in April, which only provoked harsher escalation from the government of South Carolina.
On April 28th, matters reached their critical point. Governor Thomas Pinckney, who had been a leading voice for the ever more brutal crackdown, suffered an assassination attempt. An escaped slave, John Booth, stabbed Pinckney in the side before being grabbed and beaten to death by the Governor’s guards. While the wound wasn’t directly fatal, Pinckney would die from infection two weeks later. The news of the Governor’s assassination and death sparked mass violence across the state as racially divided communities tore themselves apart and slaves leveraged the chaos to try and secure their long-denied freedom. Pleas for assistance from the government of South Carolina and the new Governor Thomas Gadsden to their fellow states went unanswered as the violence crossed into neighboring North Carolina and Georgia at this point. Forced to contend with their own comparatively limited degree of unrest and slave rebellion, South Carolina’s neighbors were more preoccupied with quelling their domestic crises than helping beleaguered South Carolina.
During this short-lived first period of the Leisteia, the ongoing Regulator war in the northern United States was entirely separate from the Leisteia despite some tenuous attempts by modern historians to connect the two. [1] However, the arrival of the “Ottoman,” Richard Smalls, would definitively connect the two movements. Smalls had been born in Boston, a part of the small free black population of the state. In a twisted irony for a man who would become one of the most prominent slave leaders of the Leisteia, Smalls had made a profession aboard a slaving ship that brought slaves from the Guinea region to Britain’s colonies. By the time of the American War for Independence, Smalls had acquired his own ship, the Finley, and continued to import slaves to the southern United States. During the Regulators’ takeover of Massachusetts, Smalls had been in Boston and initially took no part in the ongoing conflict. Over time, however, Smalls became enamored with the writings of Clark Hopewood, and upon learning of the ongoing slave revolt in South Carolina, the slave trader developed one of history’s more quixotic schemes.
Gathering as many supplies and volunteers as possible, Smalls and a small cohort of men sailed in the Finley down to South Carolina. The expedition faced disaster almost immediately as the Finley was blown off-course in a storm and beached close to Georgetown on May 23rd. Undeterred, Smalls rallied his men, and when clear skies returned, the ship was set alight. Apocryphal claims state that Smalls intended to imitate Cortes with the maneuver, but regardless of the intent, the smoke from the burning wreck attracted investigation from Georgetown. Smalls had those who arrived seized and marched into Georgetown with them bound. As the community in Georgetown did not expect the arrival of Smalls’ expedition, nor had any warning of what Smalls intended, the adventurer “liberated” Georgetown bloodlessly. From the steps of the Prince George church, Smalls would proclaim to the confused onlookers that he was here to free South Carolina from the “twin oppressions of slavery and aristocracy” by the “popular outcry” of South Carolinians.
Smalls successfully established control over Georgetown and the surrounding area, largely thanks to the ongoing confusion in the state. With a secured base of operations, Smalls began reaching out to rebelling slave groups and nearby white settlements, trying to establish a genuine “united” anti-government force under his control. During this initial period of his campaign, Smalls would come to receive the title of Ottoman. To try and build a degree of mystique around himself, Smalls claimed to be the son of an African king and used an African title to identify himself. What precisely this title was is uncertain, although the Akan term for liberator, “Okogyeaman,” has commonly been accepted as the most likely answer. Regardless of what title Smalls intended to adopt, the anglophone population of South Carolina did not properly understand it, and in their misunderstanding, the title became corrupted to “Ottoman.” Smalls, proving his surprisingly accommodating tendencies, adjusted his title and embraced Ottoman instead of his intended title.
The Ottoman’s plans for the new South Carolina intended to unite poor whites and the black population in opposition to the state’s ruling planter class. Smalls saw little success until he was joined by a local white farmer, Martin Horn. Horn was of the impoverished class of white farmers who had struggled to compete with slave labor and possessed little loyalty to the government in Charleston. A young soldier during the War for Independence, fighting under the command of the same Thomas Gadsen who was now Governor of South Carolina, Horn had found himself in a similar indebted situation that the veterans of Massachusetts had. However, Horn suffered through the misery, raising his small family in a relatively isolated farmstead passed onto him by his late father, Elijah Horn. The Horn family had been safe through the chaos of the early Leisteia, with Horn and his sons continuing to labor in their meager holdings as they had previously. But, when Horn heard of Smalls’ expedition and the Ottoman’s subsequent drives to recruit support from the white population, Horn was one of the earliest white volunteers. Possessing a surprising degree of inherent charisma, Horn swiftly rose through the ranks of the Ottoman’s forces and emerged as the de facto leader of the white population under Smalls’ control.
The first serious clash between Ottoman and South Carolinian forces occurred in the Battle of Cherry Hill on June 30th, with Ottoman Smalls successfully leading a victory over the South Carolina militia. The Ottoman would then attempt to lead a march on Charleston, only for the state militia to rebuff this effort in the Battle of Foxbank. Unable to achieve a quick victory, Smalls would instead turn to consolidating control of most of the interior regions of South Carolina. Chief among Smalls’ conquests would be Columbia, the under-construction future capital city of South Carolina. Smalls would move his government to the city, occupying the still unfinished State House and formally proclaiming his rival government to the State of South Carolina, the “Republic of South Carolina,” on July 12th.
Throughout July, Smalls focused on cementing as much control of the chaotic state as possible and establishing his new Republic. Almost all rebellious slaves were swayed to Ottoman Smalls’ banner by promises of freedom. At the same time, many poor whites were brought into the fold by promises to partition plantations and by the urgings of Martin Horn. Smalls began to drill and prepare for a second attempt at seizing Charleston, mustering a sizable army of over eight thousand eager but poorly supplied soldiers. Ottoman Smalls would, however, never have a chance at taking the city, for, on August 3rd, the Legion of the United States and several regiments of the Virginian militia would cross into South Carolina, liberating the town of Gilesboro. [2]
Rumors and panic over the ongoing slave revolt spurred the southern states to support the United States’ efforts to establish the Legion of the United States. As the general overflow of chaos out of South Carolina had only escalated with Smalls’ victories, with slave revolts breaking out as far north as Maryland and a considerable number of these pledging allegiance to the Ottoman, much of the planter elite who dominated the states south of the Potomac feared the worst. In contrast to the Regulators, whose triumph would merely spell a disruption in the government and, at worst, a brief period of mob despotism, a slave revolt posed an existential threat to the very model of civilization adopted by the planter class. And so, with this dread spurring them on, both state governments and private individuals opened their purses and poured out a sufficient amount of wealth to fully build the Legion up to its full strength of four thousand fighting men.
This additional southern backing would re-direct the Legion from its initial intended target of fighting the northern Regulators to instead re-establish order in the south. General George Washington successfully led the Legion to its first victories, fighting against slave rebels and banditry in North Carolina through July. With the Virginian militia joining the Legion near the end of the month, Washington led the fight into South Carolina. After taking Gilesboro, Washington would make a relatively direct course for Columbia. Ottoman Smalls would march against Washington, clashing with the esteemed general several times and suffering repeated defeats. Despite outnumbering Washington’s army and possessing an extremely sturdy morale, the Ottoman’s forces were a poor match for the well-equipped Legion and their Virginian support.
By the end of August, Smalls would abandon Columbia, setting the still-unfinished city alight during the retreat. Two days later, on September 1st, Washington would enter the razed city. Smalls continued to flee west and south, retreating further into more isolated portions of the state. Washington remained hot on Smalls’ tail, aiming to crush the Ottoman and his army. On September 18th, on the outskirts of the town of Ninety Six, Smalls would finally be caught between the Legion of the United States and the Virginian militia, forced to make his stand in the remnants of a British fort built in the region several years prior. Initially, the remnants of the Ottoman’s army made a valiant defense, successfully repulsing the first few attacks by the Legion. The skies overhead grew ever darker as the fighting continued, and by midday, a terrible thunderstorm broke overhead. The rain beat down on the fighting soldiers, which usually would have ended the struggle as gunpowder weapons became useless in the pervasive wet. Yet, unwilling to give the Ottoman a chance to slip away yet again, Washington pressed despite the weather. The desperate defense of the Ottoman’s men became a struggle of man against man, slave rebels against militiamen, paupers against professional soldiers, all clashing in close, hand-to-hand fighting.
In the brawl, Smalls took to the scene personally. Raising a pilfered sword high above his head, he stood alone atop a ruined earthen wall, shouting to his men and trying to rally for a push to break out from the clutching hold of the Legion. Then, the sky barked. A brilliant illumination lit the scene of battle in a blinding iridescence, and for the briefest of moments, the whole battle was clearly lit in all its terrible ferocity. Smalls crumpled to the ground, a blasted wreck. By what must have seemed divine intervention, lightning had struck down Richard Smalls, vanquishing the adventurer and, with him, the dream of a South Carolina freed of slavery. The broken remnants of Smalls’ army surrendered shortly after his death. Many were dead, and many more were missing. Among them was the influential Martin Horn, who briefly disappeared from the pages of history after narrowly escaping the Legion.
The death of Smalls also marked the end of organized revolt during the Leisteia, which in turn ended the possibility that the rebels might overthrow the governments of the southern states. Yet, even as relative security came to the regimes in the southern states, the Leisteia transitioned into its most prolonged and deadliest third period — a bloody epoch of guerilla resistance, banditry, and massacre. The further advance of the Regulators through 1788 forced Washington and the Legion of the United States to return northward, but the Virginian militia would remain and disperse throughout the southern United States. As the most stable and powerful of the southern states, Virginia would expend considerable effort assisting local militias with the long struggle against the now fragmented rebel groups. Half a dozen figures would claim to be the successors to Richard Smalls, with these petty warlords all claiming the title of Ottoman and coming into conflict with each other as often as they fought the regimes of the southern states.
With the shock of the more critical period of the Leisteia still fresh in their memories, but no immediate danger to the domination of the planter classes remaining, the southern states began to turn to the questions of the future even as the Leisteia continued in its bloodletting. Almost to a man, the planters now rejected the doctrine of opposing a firmer union between the component members of the United States. In a notable reflection of the change, the previously relatively liberal South Carolinian historian David Ramsay would publish an article, the Utility of Union and Change in the Current Form of Government, that called for a stronger federal union between the states, a union even more substantial than the Constitution of 1787 planned for. Ramsay’s article even mentioned the possibility that even the Republican nature of the government might need reconsideration, marking the first known public call for abandoning Republicanism in the United States.
In a shock to the most dedicated of the Republicans within the United States, Ramsay’s proposal was met with more praise than critique. Particularly across the southern United States, the First Republic’s failures were becoming ever more noticed and hated; change was now a necessity, and as the Leisteia continued to fester and the Regulator war continued to burn, the change demanded only grew increasingly radical.
[1] The initial slave revolt is either a second POD in this timeline or some pretty hefty butterflies flapping about.
[2] OTL, this town is now known as Marion.
