A Witness to History
EUTAW SPRINGS, S.C. — Standing beneath the spreading branches of a massive live oak, historian Garrison Marcoux tries to imagine what this scarred, struggling tree saw 245 years ago. Did one of the British soldiers encamped at this South Carolina crossroad near the end of the Revolutionary War sit in the oak's shade to recuperate from the series of attacks in American Maj. Gen. Nathanael Greene's "war of posts"? Did he or his comrades take cover behind its then slender trunk and fire at the onrushing Continental Army? Perhaps a soldier took his last breath beneath its canopy, watering its roots with his blood.
"I'm a spiritual person," Marcoux, with the South Carolina Battlefield Preservation Trust, said as workers clamber among the limbs above. "To say that a place that experienced a lot of violence and intense emotion and things like that doesn't hold some kind of energy is probably not likely. I think that energy exists where something like this happened."
This is a "witness tree." And it now faces its own fight for survival. After multiple attempts to stave off its death over the decades, it is being choked by the chains and cables meant to support it. Preservationists are working to save this unique, living reminder of an oft-overshadowed chapter in U.S. history.
What the Oak Witnessed
Arborists estimate that the tree was about 50 years old on Sept. 8, 1781, when British and colonial forces clashed during the Battle of Eutaw Springs — considered by historians to be the last open field engagement of the American Revolution. "It's very rare to have a witness tree, especially from the Revolutionary War," Marcoux said on a recent sultry morning as gnats and mosquitoes buzzed around his head. "To have the tree that witnessed this battle and still standing is short of a miracle."
Among the officers were famous names like Lt. Col. Henry "Light-Horse Harry" Lee and Brig. Gen. Francis Marion, better known as the "Swamp Fox." About 2,500 Americans attacked roughly 2,000 British and Loyalist troops. The battle produced 1,461 killed, wounded, captured, or missing. Greene, who had a horse shot out from under him during the fight, later called it "by far, the hottest action I ever saw, and the most bloody for the numbers engaged." British Lt. Col. Alexander Stewart, whose forces camped around a fortified brick house, wrote to Lord Cornwallis: "I assure you the Action was bloody and obstinate."
The tree itself is a monument to that day: it reaches 45 feet (13.7 meters) tall, its canopy spreads about 130 feet (40 meters), and its trunk is 72 inches (1.83 meters) in diameter at breast height.
A Landscape Transformed
The land around the tree has changed dramatically since the battle. The twin springs that gave the battle its name were inundated by a 1940s project that flooded the Santee River basin for hydroelectric power and flood control. Development in the 1960s swallowed up much of the land that the lake project spared.
About 50 years ago, lightning struck the oak's crotch, splitting it nearly in two. Workers lashed the broad branches together with steel cables and chains — supports that have become a threat. "The chains and cables are actually choking it out. It can't pull nutrients up from the soil," said arborist Aron Landsaw, who is leading the preservation effort.
The Preservation Project
South Carolina 250 and the American Battlefield Trust hired Maryland-based SavATree for the preservation project. Crews used a supersonic air tool to de-compact the ground around the tree's roots, then injected a kelp mixture to add nutrients to the soil. Workers also hammered little blunt lightning rods into the main branches, connecting them with copper cables that converge on a longer copper rod pounded into the ground about 10 feet (3 meters) from the trunk.
Next, workers will install new cables, bolted into the five main branches, to stabilize the tree before removing the old supports. Landsaw says the goal is at least another 100 years of life for the tree.
For Marcoux, the effort is about more than preserving a single plant. "This tree connects us to a moment that shaped the nation," he said, looking up at the ancient branches. "It's a living link to the past that we can't afford to lose."
As the work continues, the old oak stands as a testament to both the battle it witnessed and the enduring effort to keep its story alive.