The Planter Hotel Legacy

The so-called low country of South Carolina can be hot and steamy in May, even at 3:30 in the morning. So it was on May 13, 1862, when 23-year-old Robert Smalls piloted the armed Confederate gunboat the Planter out of Charleston Harbor toward the Union blockade fleet some seven miles away. A sidewheel coastal steamer, in peacetime the Planter had been employed in the cotton trade since her 3’9” draft enabled her to access most of the shallow harbors and rivers along the coasts of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. When the Civil War commenced in April 1861, the Confederacy had armed Planter with two cannons and reclassified her as an armed gunboat. But on this morning, it was being piloted and crewed by a band of escaping slaves. 

Reality was stacked against them. On that May morning, five imposing fortresses stood between Robert Smalls and the Union fleet: Pinckney, Ripley, Moultrie, Johnson, and finally massive Fort Sumter, where the Civil War had begun the previous year. These heavily armed forts made Charleston, South Carolina arguably the most fortified harbor in the world. As the Planter approached the last and largest, Fort Sumter, at 4:30 in the morning, some of the passengers on board began to panic. They had good reason, because just an hour earlier, under the direction of Robert Smalls and his enslaved crew, they had made a break for freedom by stealing the Planter. They hoped to make their way out to the Union fleet and freedom, but if caught, they could be hanged as pirates…if they were lucky. 

As the Planter approached the looming, darkened silhouette of Fort Sumter, some of the passengers cried out for Smalls to give the fort an extra wide berth, but Smalls was steadfast. Standing at the helm, he pointed out that to do so would only raise suspicions. Upon stealing the vessel, he had donned the captain’s uniform and distinctive straw hat. Now, he stood at the helm with the captain’s pipe clenched tightly in his teeth, a Confederate flag flapping at the staff behind him, the image of determination and purpose. 

Born into slavery in Beaufort, South Carolina, Robert Smalls, like his mother, Lydia Polite, was a slave of a cotton planter named Henry McKee. Even though his mother lived at McKee’s 511 Prince Street home, she was required to work in McKee’s cotton plantation, Ashdale, which was located just across Battery Creek on Lady’s Island. This region still constitutes what is known as the “Low Country” of South Carolina. Lydia wanted to ensure that her son was aware of the plight of their people, so when she went into the fields to work, a young Robert was usually in tow. Consequently, very early on, Robert Smalls was heavily influenced by the independent thinking of the low-country Gullah community. 

When he was just 12 years of age, Smalls had been hired out by McKee to work as a hotel laborer in Charleston. He was next hired out as a lamplighter, then a sailmaker, and finally a longshoreman, where he discovered his true love, the sea. Eventually, he found employment as a wheelman. Classified as a wheelman since slaves were not permitted to be helmsmen, it was an assignment that Smalls loved and by his early 20s, he was acknowledged as an expert boat captain with an especially detailed knowledge of not only Charleston Harbor, but the coasts further south along South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. 

When the Civil War broke out in April of 1861, Smalls with his vessel now renamed the CSS Planter found themselves in the service of the Confederate navy surveying waterways, laying mines (then known as torpedoes), delivering dispatches, troops, supplies, and even shuffling cannons to the various Charleston harbor fortifications and batteries. A year later, in the spring of 1862, the Planter, with Smalls at the helm, was detailed to help evacuate a Confederate outpost on Coles Island in the Stono River, south of Charleston. It was while evacuating the Confederate cannons from Coles Island that Smalls saw an opportunity and began to carefully plan his escape. 

Typically, the Planter’s white captain along with his two white mates went ashore every night, leaving the trusted Robert Smalls in charge. Since it was common for the families of the enslaved black crewmembers to occasionally visit, Smalls planned the escape for a night when the families would be on board and the captain and mates were not. He knew that the real difficulty would be getting past the forts. Each of the five forts had a distinctive steam whistle challenge that required a specific encoded response. Since Smalls had sailed past these very edifices many times, he was intimately familiar with each procedure. 

As dawn began to break on that May 13th morning, the Planter came abreast of the mighty Sumter. Smalls responded to the Fort’s challenge, just as he had responded to the challenge of each of the previous forts and batteries. After what seemed like a lifetime, Sumter signaled back; passage had been granted; the Planter could proceed. That morning, Robert Smalls, an enslaved man from Beaufort, South Carolina, just 23 years old, would pass from slavery to freedom and into history. Little did he know then that his legacy would someday be continued in another tiny town some 600 miles to the north at the very bottom tip of New Jersey, in Cape May. 

I have been told that Dolly Nash was a lady who loved to dance. A local Cape May girl, her athleticism and fun-loving nature led her to become a gym teacher for the Wildwood schools starting in the 1950s. Well loved by her students, she was remembered as a woman with a strong spirit who always sported a whistle around her neck. Indeed, a period photograph of Dolly Nash depicts a smiling, bespectacled woman complete with that ever-present whistle. In addition to physical education, Dolly taught health and drivers education. One student recalled her teacher fondly, “Not only was she my teacher, but she was also my friend.” Others remembered Dolly Nash as friendly, patient, and dedicated; a teacher who was “wonderful” in every respect and who would “never be forgotten.” In a later photograph, the whistle has been replaced by a string of pearls, but the broad smile is unmistakable Dolly Nash. 

Born Janet “Dolly” Davidson, she was married to Mr. John T. Nash, a Cape May native and World War II veteran. According to Black Voices of Cape May, John Nash owned and operated an awning and upholstery business in Cape May before the war. After returning home, he became an instructor, teaching upholstery at the county vocational school. The Nashes were enterprising entrepreneurs. While still teaching, the couple built, owned, and operated a small motel located on Lafayette Street in Cape May. They called their motel The Planter, naming it for the vessel captured a century earlier by Dolly’s great uncle, Robert Smalls. 

Back on May 13th in 1862, the Union forces blockading Charleston were quite excited about the exploits of an escaped slave named Robert Smalls. When Flag Officer DuPont, commander of the Union forces at their enclave of Beaufort-Port Royal-Hilton Head, learned of Smalls’ escape, he quickly made it a point to interview the former slave. The admiral learned that not only had Smalls delivered the confederate gunboat Planter to the Union, but also aboard the vessel were several pieces of heavy artillery and, most significantly, all of the captain’s secret codes. Smalls also informed DuPont that, in April of 1862 the Planter had assisted in the evacuation of a key Confederate outpost on Coles Island, south of the city. A week later, acting on this information, Union forces captured the gun batteries on Coles Island and thus opened a key southern approach to Charleston. 

After interviewing Smalls, DuPont wisely reassigned him back aboard the Planter as its pilot. So it was that Robert Smalls would continue in the fight, now as a civilian pilot and armed transport Captain. His detailed knowledge of mine locations enabled the Union to remove most of these deadly obstructions from Charleston Harbor. Later, Smalls went on to pilot the mighty ironclad USS Keokuk during the Second Battle of Fort Sumter as well as the Planter and several other vessels. 

Robert Smalls served in the Navy until late 1863 when he was transferred to the army. By the time the war ended in 1865, he had participated in 17 major battles and was eventually present in Charleston Harbor aboard his precious Planter when the war finally ended. 

Even Abraham Lincoln learned of the exploits of Robert Smalls. It has been widely suggested that “by his example and persuasion, Robert Smalls helped to encourage Abraham Lincoln to allow African Americans into the Union Army.” In fact, within eight months of his escape, the famous 54th Massachusetts Regiment would be formed at Camp Meigs near Boston. The 54th was the first all-black regiment to be outfitted and armed with modern muskets to be sent into combat against Confederate forces. After making its way south to Beaufort, South Carolina, it participated in the bloody battle of Gimble’s Landing. A few weeks later, on July 18th, 1863, the regiment would earn glory at the Second Battle of Fort Wagner. One hundred and twenty-six years later the regiment would be forever commemorated by the film Glory. 

After the war, Robert Smalls returned to Beaufort and purchased his former master’s house at 511 Prince Street by paying off its unpaid back taxes. Having achieved literacy while in Philadelphia in 1864, Smalls soon became active in politics. Thanks to his wartime fame and his fluency with the low-country Gullah dialect, Small’s political success was assured. He was elected to the South Carolina legislature and eventually to the U.S. House of Representatives where he served in the U.S. Congress from 1875 through 1887. During this time, he also founded the South Carolina Republican Party. In fact, it was Smalls who first described the Republican Party as the “Party of Lincoln, that unshackled the necks of four million people.”

While in office, Smalls authored state legislation that instituted the first free and compulsory public school system. Throughout the reconstruction period and his political career, Robert Smalls fought for protections for African Americans, but was largely stifled by Southern Democrats who dominated in the south at that time. Significantly, Robert Smalls was the last Republican to represent South Carolina’s 5th Congressional District until 2011. 

Perhaps the most poignant example of Robert Smalls’ humanity and innate kindness was demonstrated when he permitted Jane McKee, the widow of his former owner, to move back into her old home on Prince Street in Beaufort, the home that Smalls had purchased for back taxes after the war. 

A short walk from the Robert Smalls house within the city limits of Beaufort is the historic Verdier House. Open to the public, the Verdier House contains a permanent exhibit detailing the political career of Robert Smalls. In 1989, the United States Navy named their newest guided missile carrier Ticonderoga Class Cruiser, CG62, the USS Robert Smalls. In addition, a five-mile section of Highway 21 on Lady’s Island has been named the Robert Smalls Parkway. 

On February 23, 1915, Robert Smalls died of malaria and diabetes at the age of 76 and was buried at the Tabernacle Baptist Church on Craven Street, where his headstone and bust remain to this day. The true life and times of Robert Smalls is without a doubt a quintessential American story, a story shared by the cities of Beaufort, South Carolina and Cape May, New Jersey. 

Beaufort, South Carolina, is a well-kept secret. Captured by Union forces early in the Civil War, Beaufort escaped the total devastation that was visited upon many southern cities. Consequently, most of the antebellum homes and structures within the city survived the war. The city is so walkable that most of these interesting examples of southern architecture can be observed during a short stroll. Beaufort also claims a beautiful waterfront area and interesting main street. Just across a swing bridge that crosses Battery Creek is Lady’s Island, site of Henry McKee’s plantation, Ashdale, where the enslaved Lydia Polite labored, a young Robert Smalls in tow. 

And in Cape May, situated on Lafayette Street just past the city elementary school, sits a motel—today called The Boarding House—once known as the Planter.