Seeking Mary Smith…in the future.
My final attempt to gather info about Mary Smith was a fieldtrip to the Anderson County Museum. In terms of finding new info, the experience was a bust, but that’s okay. I’m still glad I made time to explore my local history!
First, let me say that the Anderson County Museum is absolutely charming. The docent and staff that I chatted with were knowledgeable and friendly. Although the museum doesn’t have any substantial displays relating to pre-Revolutionary War settlement or local fighters’ role in the war itself, that makes perfect sense: Anderson County itself wasn’t even founded until 1826, shortly before Mary died. Prior to the creation of the county, Anderson was just a lightly populated backwater of the large Pendleton District and didn’t merit a lot of historical record-keeping. Furthermore, small museums need lots of visual appeal to draw an audience, and the lack of photos and other imagery from Mary’s time would probably make for a dry exhibit. I had high hopes for the Andersonians in War exhibit, but only a handful of the items included went back to the Revolutionary War and none shed light on Mary’s heroism. One docent gave me an email address for a friend of hers in the DAR who specializes in local Revolutionary War history, so I may reach out for an interview when I have time to get back to this project.
What else comes next? Imagination, I suppose.
In some ways, ending on a flop is a useful reminder of something I already knew: Mary Smith, the person, will be forever unknowable to me. The centuries between our lives make it impossible for me to fully grasp her perspective on the world, her thought processes, or her feelings—or even to verify the basic facts of her life, it seems. The only way for me to truly “know” her is through my own sense of empathy and through creative reconstruction.
There are several things I can build upon:
The fact that Mary agreed to immigrate to SC and persisted here (and even thrived) after her husband’s death confirm for me that she was brave and strong.
The fact that she took a huge risk—her heroic ride during the Revolutionary War—as a gesture of care for the family that took in her and her son, well, that tells me that she was also loyal and loving.
The fact that she never remarried tells me that she had an independent streak: the region had few if any other female landowners at this time, according to one of the articles I read.
And, the fact that she was still bragging about her Revolutionary War exploits as a little old lady to the extent that her decedents mentioned it on her headstone tells me that she had an expansive sense of self and healthy ego.
My research has changed my image of her. Specifically, I have come to envision her as one of those “mouthy Southern grandma” types, like Ouiser from Steel Magnolias. It’s also easy to see her as an early feminist, long before the term itself was coined. In spite of starting this project with the idea that she was a war hero, I was initially captivated by the vulnerability of a young mother alone in the American wilderness: how frightened and overwhelmed she must have been.
But the end of Mary’s life tells a different tale. She’s someone who built a community for herself, built a thriving farm, and raised her son on her own. This is a story of strength, not one of suffering.
If I ever get around to writing my novel, that’s what I need to hold in mind. Mary Smith was a pioneer and self-proclaimed heroine, and I’ll have to capture her brashness and braggadocious spirit just as thoroughly as her vulnerability. It’s a challenge I take very seriously. And maybe someday, you’ll be able to seek Mary Smith in the pages of historical fiction.
Thank you for reading!