This post consolidates several items published by Dataw Historic Foundation members about slavery on Dataw. This first summary is currently on exhibit in the History and Learning Center. Below it are links to other material published earlier.

Summary of Slavery on Datha Island

Plantations:  Datha Point (north) and Datha Inlet (south), both on Datha Island

Years of Sams family ownership:  1783–1861 (78 years, three generations)

Enslaved at peak (1850 census):  approximately 297 across Sams properties

History is a story to be investigated and shared.”

Teresa Bridges, Sams family descendant

Attribution: We are grateful to the material drawn from Rowland, Moore, and Rogers, “The History of Beaufort County, South Carolina, Volume 1: 1514-1861” (University of South Carolina Press, 1996). We also drew on Jane Griffith’s study of the Sams family’s enslaved people, published by the Dataw Historic Foundation in March 2020; includes excerpts from Laura M. Towne’s and Charlotte Forten’s diaries (October-November 1862).

Many brought deep expertise. Among Dr. B.B. Sams’ enslaved people were tailors, blacksmiths, and carpenters. Among those we know by name: Cicero served as coachman, gardener, and boatman. Solomon was the plantation carpenter. Aphe was a seamstress who taught her young daughter Hatta to sew alongside her. Jimmie cooked for the B.B. Sams household for 42 years. Brutus tended the hogs, and Cuffee worked as a farm hand. Together, people like Cicero, Solomon, Aphe, Jimmie, Brutus, and Cuffee made this isolated island into a working, profitable plantation.

Under the task system common on Sea Island Cotton plantations, field hands were assigned specific quarter-acre plots to cultivate each day. If they finished early, they might tend a small personal garden or raise a few chickens, a narrow margin of time they could call their own in lives that otherwise belonged entirely to others. They lived in one and two-room earthen-floor huts, sometimes without adequate clothing in winter, a detail teacher Charlotte Forten witnessed firsthand in 1862 at the neighboring plantation owned by a Sams. Oakland Plantation, Dr. Lewis Reeve Sams Jr.’s former property on Polawana Island.

Today, the tabby ruins, the paths, and the fields of this community stand on the same ground where these men, women, and children worked. Recognizing them is essential to understanding the full history of Datha Island and the ruins and vistas you see here today.

On Datha’s plantations, labor was directed by “drivers”, experienced enslaved men who assigned daily work, and by white overseers who reported to the owners. One Datha overseer, Mr. Cummings, was remembered in family accounts as “a severe man hated by the enslaved.” Another, Mr. Reynolds, was described as “decent and kindly.” The daily quality of life for hundreds of people could turn on such differences.

Field hands worked eight to ten hours a day in the intense heat and humidity of the Sea Island summer, planting, hoeing, and picking cotton. Children as young as five wore small harnesses to carry tools and supplies to the field hands. Domestic workers, cooks, maids, seamstresses, and valets were on call at all hours, their lives woven into the intimate rhythms of the plantation household.

If a field hand finished an assigned task early, they might tend a personal garden or rest. Evenings and Sundays offered brief windows for sharing food, exchanging news, and maintaining the bonds the law sought to deny. It was in these narrow margins of the day that Datha’s enslaved people taught children skills, passed on stories, and kept their communities alive.

Across the Lowcountry, archaeologists and physical anthropologists have studied the skeletons of the enslaved. Results show evidence of severe physical stress. Studies also reveal dietary deficiencies, chronic infections, anemia, and lead exposure from homemade, unglazed cookware. The average male enslaved person lived to approximately 35; the average female to 40.

When horn blow and morning star rise, slave have for get up and cook. 

When day clean, they gone to field.”

Former enslaved man, St. Helena Island area (oral history, early 20th century)

Control over Datha’s plantations was enforced through rules, physical punishment, and surveillance. Yet on Datha and nearby islands, enslaved people made choices, sometimes at great personal risk, that asserted their own humanity. Enslaved people were required to carry passes to move between properties, even to visit a spouse on a neighboring plantation. The “Market Bell” rang in nearby Beaufort at 9 o’clock; no enslaved person could walk those streets without a written pass from their owner. Dr. B.B. Sams permitted his enslaved to visit only his own plantations and no one else’s, keeping tight control over who could speak with whom.

In May 1797, a man named July, described in a Charleston newspaper notice as belonging to “Mr. William Sams, living on Dattah (sic) Island”, was caught in Charleston after running away. He risked the brutal punishments of the city’s Work House. It would be three generations before the beginning of the end of slavery would arrive.

When a large Union fleet arrived on November 7, 1861, and the Dr. Lewis Reeve Sams, Jr. family fled Polawana Island, an enslaved man named Cupid led the people around him into the woods rather than board the evacuation boats as their owner ordered. Aphe, a seamstress taken to Virginia, ran away at the war’s end. Two young, enslaved girls, forcibly taken by their fleeing owner, escaped through swamps and creeks for more than two days, making their way back to their parents on Datha Island. Not just Cupid, but about 10,000 people across roughly 200 plantations, now contraband of war, made active choices in the hours after the planters fled. 

Laura M. Towne recorded what the Sams family’s departure looked like from the inside. A formerly enslaved woman named Tina, from Polawana Island, described the scene: “Tina of Polawana Island was telling us today how her master’s family were sitting down to dinner in their far-off, lovely island, when the news came that everyone was flying. They sprang up, left the silver on the table, the dinner untasted, packed a few clothes for the children, and were gone, never to come back.

These actions, running, hiding, learning, and refusing, were not small things. They were acts of courage by people who risked everything to insist, in whatever way they could, that they were human beings and not property.

Enslaved people on Datha sustained kinship despite separation by sale, pass laws, and distance. Aphe taught her young daughter Hatta to sew alongside her. Oral histories were kept alive for generations by people like Ma Lilly. Even historian Lawrence Rowland’s mother, Elizabeth Sanders Rowland, who owned the island from 1933 until her death in 1965, told the story of Ma Lilly, who she described as a loving ‘second mother’ to both the black and white youngsters on the island.

The enslaved people’s own spiritual lives ran deeper than what owners prescribed. They blended African traditions with Christian teaching to create worship practices that were truly their own. Among those we know by name, Mingo, described as “a genuine African” who spoke both English and Gullah, was one of Dr. B.B. Sams’ enslaved. The Gullah language he carried is a living legacy of the people who labored on these islands.

After the planters fled in 1861, Datha’s formerly enslaved people remained on the island. Datha was subsequently foreclosed on by the Federal government in 1863 as abandoned rebel property. It was eventually purchased by a New Yorker, William Irwin. The formerly enslaved people who had stayed did not disappear; they remained as tenant workers. 

The Port Royal Experiment took shape across these islands beginning in 1862. One key site was next door on St. Helena Island, less than a year after the planters fled. Laura Towne and Ellen Murray founded the Penn School (the future Penn Center) on St. Helena Island in April 1862, widely recognized as one of the first schools established specifically for formerly enslaved people in American history. Soon, twenty-five-year-old Charlotte “Lottie” Forten, a Philadelphia free Black abolitionist and teacher, arrived at Oakland Plantation, Dr. Lewis Reeve Sams Jr.’s former property, to teach the newly freed people. 

After emancipation, the formerly enslaved and their descendants founded communities, schools, and churches throughout this region. They kept alive the language and traditions developed from living on these islands. Today, a cemetery for enslaved people on Cotton Dike Road holds the remains of those who lived and died on this island in bondage, and their descendants. Among those remembered is Ma Lilly, whose care for children on this island is still recalled in family stories and in the name of Malilly Run Road. The history of Datha did not end in 1861 or 1865; it continues in the lives, memories, and landscape of the Dataw Island community today.

Other DHF Articles on the Enslaved People of Datha Island


This poignant article is about the events that led up to the December 2007 reconsecration of the Cotton Dike Cemetery, the resting place of nearly 40 formerly enslaved people (and some descendants) on Dataw Island.

Andrew “Bullet” Robinson (1923 – 2020)


The Tale Of Two Cemeteries was presented by John Colgan of the Dataw Historic Foundation On Nov 18, 2019.

Tale of Two Cemeteries


Dataw Historic Foundation long-time member Jane Griffith wrote Slavery and Datha’s Enslaved over a several-year period. She did extensive research on slavery in North America and South Carolina. Jane weaves together information, stories, and data from about 50 sources to create an engaging and thorough description of the slaves of Datha Island; as detailed as the records left behind will support. Published in March 2020. Thank you, Jane!

Slavery and Datha’s Enslaved


Pete Bongiovanni gave a presentation in September 2022 in our History & Learning Center on the Enslaved People of South Carolina & Datha Island. His subtitle hinted at the scope of this talk.

Africans were not the first, but became the many.


On a personal note, as a member of the Dataw Historical Foundation:

I believe our role is honest remembrance, not attempts to repair the unrepairable.
I should acknowledge past harms clearly and let that understanding shape how we act today, without pretending that history itself can be retroactively balanced or undone.

I believe truth-telling is the most responsible legacy we can leave.
I commit to researching, documenting, and sharing the past as accurately and humanely as possible, so future generations inherit a trustworthy record rather than inherited guilt or silence.