Falling For It

the Revolutionary War. A man who could reportedly summon battalions of soldiers within the forest and then disappear into the darkness. It was rumored that he blew up the Georgetown Artillery single match, and if you take a ghost tour of the city today, you'll hear stories of his spirit guiding lost travelers through the swamp. There is some measure of truth to the stories of this terrible figure. His name was Francis Marion, and his actions during the War for

America's Independence earned him the nickname the swamp Fox. Marion was born in January of seventeen thirty two near what is now Berkeley County, thirty miles inland from the city of Charleston. He grew up outdoors, becoming an avid fisherman and hunter, and because of this he gained an intimate knowledge of the swamps and forests along the Cooper and

Edistone rivers and was an expert in navigating them. He further expanded his skills when he served as a militia lieutenant in the French and Indian War, where his familiarity with the frontier proved valuable as a scout and as a commander of irregular detachments that relied on ambush, raid movement and intimate use of terrain. In seventeen eighty, Charleston became a major focus of British strategy, which aimed to seize the city and use it as a stronghold in

the fight against revolutionary forces. It was at the time the largest port in the Southern Colonies, and it helped to supply forces throughout the Southeast. By capturing Charleston, the British could effectively cut off support to much of the continental army. On January twenty ninth, approximately two thousand British troops landed in and around Charleston Harbor. By February two, they had captured Fort Moultrie and turning its artillery against

the city. Within the week, they'd begun a steady barrage against Charleston's defenses, while British troops began slowly circling the city on land, digging trenches to lay siege to the town. On March twenty ninth, they succeeded in breaking the opposing army at the Battle of Monk's Corner, forcing the Continental Army's retreat. Then on May twelfth, the siege ended when Continental General Benjamin Lincoln signed articles of capitulation as the

British took control of the port city. Approximately six hundred were dead at another thirty five hundred had been taken prisoner. It was a decisive victory, and the Redcoats now had a base of operations to spread out across the South, but Charleston would not prove easy to hold. After Charleston fell, Marion began a gorilla campaign to assist the army in

reclaiming the city. He worked closely with the militia of Colonel Thomas Sumter to establish camps in nearby forests and swamps surrounding the Santee River that would be hidden from British forces, and from there he used the dense foliage and the shallow waters to conceal himself and his troops when spying on enemy supply routes, ambushing ammunition convoys and

destroying what they could not carry. The largest of these ambushes took place at Briar Creek when his men captured a British supply depot and destroyed a powder magazine, forcing the British military to divert troops away from the city, and so he nipped away at those laying siege, occasionally raiding food stores and destroying artillery, and then disappearing back into the swamp. And Marian used psychological tactics as well.

Over the years, he cultivated a network of support in the communities north of the city, using them to help spread word of a phantom army hiding within the swamps, setting fires on hilltops and screaming in the middle of the night, convincing the British Army that they were being stalked by ghosts. When the British Army finally managed to strike back, the results of Marion's efforts were loud and clear.

The British supply lines had been so thoroughly depleted that their soldiers arrived under fed and under supplied, which helped Continental forces land a decisive victory in January of seventeen eighty one. The defeats left the British forces diminished, and further decisive winds, aided by Marian's continuing raids, slowly made holding the city of Charleston impossible. The British were on the defensive in the South now as well as in the north, and their forces finally evacuated the city on

December eleventh of seventeen eighty two. Francis Marian's relentless hidden run tactics turned the landscape of the Low Country into a weapon of its own, forcing the British to fight a war they could not win against foes they couldn't track. By starving their supply trains, scattering their troops, and adding a bit of folklore, Marian helped turn a hopeless siege into a series of setbacks, ultimately leading to the liberation

of Charleston. His legacy endures not only in the folklore that still haunts ghost tour guides and riverbanks, but in the very notion that a small mobile force, armed with intimate knowledge of its terrain can often tip the balance of a great war. Robert was a shrewd business man. He saw opportunities where a few others did. He made his fortune selling chainsaws of all things printed with his name on them in big, bold letters. He invested in oil,

created steam powered vehicles. He built airplanes, and created, at the time the world's tallest fountain. And with such impressive accomplishments, it's easy to see why no one questioned Robert McCulloch's business intuition when he set his sites on a barren twenty six miles of Arizona Desert in nineteen fifty eight. The land had previously been used as an Army Air Corps resting camp during World War Two, but nothing permanent

had ever been built there. But when Robert McCulloch looked out at the vast desert stretching toward the Colorado River, he didn't see a desolate landscape. He saw an opportunity. He planned to build a city there, attracting families and retirees who'd loved the southwest location. The hazy Orange sunsets and the calm flowing waters of the Colorado River, and he tested it for himself too. The first thing he built in his new town was a fishing cabin situated

on the Lake Havasu basin. McCullough told people at the time the fish were eager to buy, which seemed like a good omen to him. Unfortunately, the buyers weren't willing to bite. McCulloch's land, which he thought would sell fast, didn't appeal to many people at all. Firstly, there was the fact that it was so remote, situated in the middle of the desert, with the nearest city almost a four hour drive away. Even the closest small town was

miles and miles away from it. The climate was hot and dry, which meant the land couldn't be used for farming or livestock, and since Lake Havasu City hadn't even been built yet, there was nothing to attract visitors. McCulloch refused to give up. There must be a way to encourage people to buy property and move to the area. He consulted with his real estate agent, a man named Robert Plumer, and to his surprise, Plumer said that he was sure he had a solution, although it was a

pretty unusual one. Now from here, I'm going to take a sharp left turn, so please try not to get whiplash. Have you heard the nursery rhyme London Bridge is falling down? Of course you have. But what you may not know is that in nineteen six twenty seven it actually was

falling down, which honestly shouldn't be a surprise. The bridge was a relic of the past, after all, having been built in eighteen thirty one, and as London expanded around it and traffic demands increased, the bridge was becoming dangerously weak and desperately in need of being replaced. That's when one of the city councilors came up with a novel idea.

In order to recoup some of the money the city would lose building a new one, he suggested London auction off their famous bridge to the highest bidder, and the real estate agent Plumer Well he thought that McCulloch should buy it. It would attract more land buyers, give people a reason to visit Lake Havasu City, and add to

McCulloch's impressive legacy, and unsurprisingly he went for it. In April of nineteen sixty eight, Robert McCulloch became the proud new owner of London Bridge for just shy of two point five million dollars. And then came the next challenge, moving the bridge from London to Arizona. To begin, McCulloch needed somewhere to put it. A bridge as historic and monumental as this one deserved a special crossing, something more

fitting than an endless stretch of desert sand. He hired a massive crew to carve a large peninsula of Lake Havasou into an island. London Bridge would stretch across this teal colored water and be the only crossing on or off the island. As for the bridge itself, workers meticulously labeled hundreds of granite bricks. They cataloged the bricks which came from each arch span, each row, each position, and

then came disassembly. Ten thousand tons of granite stones were packed into crates and sailed across the Atlantic, through the Panama Canal and up to Long Beach, California. And from there the crates were loaded onto enormous trucks and driven through the California desert to Lake Havasou. Would the bridge still be too weak to handle traffic, you might ask,

Bakala thought the same thing. He had construction crews build a new frame made of reinforced concrete to ensure it would be safe to drive on, and only then could the bridge be reconstructed and all those granite bricks placed exactly where they belonged. In total, the disassembly, transportation, and reconstruction took three whole years and cost McCulloch another seven million dollars, and in the end it worked. Buyers flocked to Lake Havasu for the grand opening of Arizona's London Bridge.

London's own Lord Mayor came to town for the event, and today Lakeavasou City is a bustling town with a major tourism industry and fifty thousand happy residents. Looking back, McCulloch's story encourages all of us to take that leap of faith, however big it might be, because you never know you may land on just the right bridge. I hope you enjoyed today's guided tour through the Cabinet of Curiosities.

This show was created by me Aaron Manke in partnership with iHeart Podcasts, researched and written by the Grim and Mild team and produced by Jesse Funk. Learn more about the show and the people who make it over at Grimandmild dot com slash Curiosities. You'll also find a link to the official Cabinet of Curiosity's hardcover book, available in bookstores and online, as well as ebook and audiobook. And if you're looking for an ad free option, consider joining

our Patreon. It's all the same stories, but without the interruption for a small monthly fee. Learn more and sign up over at patreon dot com slash Grimandmild, and until next time, stay curious.