Patriot Hostess

 In the shadowed halls of Charleston’s grand King Street mansion, Rebecca Brewton Motte moved with quiet resolve. This grande dame of South Carolina, along with her impressive home and estate, plays a small but historically interesting role in the action of my novel, The South Spy. 

Born in 1737 to a family of goldsmiths and merchants, she married Jacob Motte in 1758. Together, they built a life amid Lowcountry rice fields and tidal rivers. Her brother, Miles Brewton, a wealthy merchant and early Patriot voice, perished at sea in 1775 en route to the Continental Congress. Rebecca inherited his opulent Miles Brewton House and the strategic Mt. Joseph plantation on the Congaree River. These holdings made her one of South Carolina’s wealthiest women, yet she devoted her resources to the Patriot cause.

Early Patriots

Before the British threat loomed in 1780, the Motte family had already committed. Jacob fought at Sullivan’s Island in 1776, where patriot women presented colors to the defending regiment. Rebecca rallied enslaved laborers from her plantations to bolster Charleston’s defenses and supplied Continental forces with rice, beef, pork, corn, and fodder. Her surviving daughters—including Elizabeth, who married Patriot officer Thomas Pinckney in 1779—grew up amid this fierce loyalty. Brewton and Motte family ties, strengthened by connections to Pinckney, wove a resilient web of resistance across Carolina.

From Home to Headquarters

When Sir Henry Clinton’s army besieged Charleston in spring 1780, Rebecca held firm in her King Street home. British cannon thundered across the Ashley and Cooper rivers as the city’s defenses crumbled. On May 12, the garrison surrendered. The magnificent Miles Brewton House was immediately seized as British headquarters—for Clinton, then Banastre Tarleton, Nisbet Balfour, and other officers. Sentries patrolled its elegant rooms. While caring for her ailing husband, Rebecca endured the occupation with unyielding dignity. She presided at table with Carolina hospitality, concealing her patriotism despite insults and crowding. She never betrayed the cause. When Jacob died of illness later that year, she became a widow in an enemy-held city.

Congaree Sanctuary—Not

With her daughters and household, Rebecca withdrew ninety-five miles inland to Mt. Joseph on the Congaree. British forces soon fortified the main house as a vital supply depot between Charleston and Camden, christening it Fort Motte. The red-coated garrison under Lieutenant Daniel MacPherson drove the family into the overseer’s quarters, which were ringed by trenches, palisades, and blockhouses.

Swamp Fox & Light Horse

In May 1781, Brigadier General Francis Marion and Lieutenant Colonel Henry “Light-Horse Harry” Lee arrived with four hundred men to sever the British lifeline. Five days of artillery and rifle fire failed to dislodge the defenders. The dry shingle roof offered the swiftest solution: they would burn the British out. Rebecca did not hesitate. “If it were a palace,” she reportedly declared, “it should go.”

Meeting Marion & Lee

Flaming Arrows

From her brother Miles’s collection, she produced East Indian arrows designed to ignite on impact and offered her own bow. On 12 May, a Patriot marksman loosed a flaming shaft. It struck true, and flames raced across the roof. As British troops scrambled, Patriot cannon roared. MacPherson’s men surrendered before the fire could consume the structure. The blaze was quickly extinguished, and the fort fell. In the aftermath, Rebecca hosted victors and paroled British officers alike, her table a place of grace amid the ashes. The arrows that struck her own roof became symbols of a widow’s patriotism.

Steadfast Support and Post War Builder

Through occupation, bereavement, and the deliberate loss of her home, Rebecca Brewton Motte never wavered. Her plantations continued to feed Patriot columns. After Yorktown, she rebuilt her fortune as a shrewd rice planter, paying off war debts and securing her family’s future. In an era of shadow warriors and unseen blows for liberty, her steadfast support—provisions in the early years, an ultimate sacrifice in 1781—proved as vital as any raid. Like the Yankee Doodle spies who struck from the dark, she fought with a planter’s weapons: resolve, resources, and an iron will no British occupation could break.

Her legacy endures not in stone but in the freedom her sacrifices helped forge.