Count and Cavalry Commander

to reclaim the city Savannah from the British. Once the infantry located a defensive weakness, the cavalry would charge, break through enemy lines and overwhelm their opposition. If they won, it would be a resounding victory in the American Revolutionary War, and also it would be a crowning achievement for one of the most unlikely heroes of the Continental Army, because the general that day waiting on his horse was neither

American nor French. Count Casimir Pulaski was a Polish noble. Unfortunately, for Pulaski, the elements that fateful morning were against him. The foggy weather and swampy terrain delayed the foot soldiers in reaching their starting positions. The conditions also impeded the Allied military units from effectively communicating with one another, a process which was already difficult given the involved egos, tenuous agreements, and language barriers between many of the officers, enlisted men,

and members of the militia. But far worse than all of that, and unbeknownst to Pulaski, a critical betrayal had taken place the night before. Someone had leaked their plans, and so the fortifications they were attacking actually held far more heavily armed reinforcements than Pulaski had counted on. British riflemen were able to start brutally picking off the majority of the sodden and struggling soldiers as they approached. Pulaski

waited with his cavalry while all this was happening. As someone who lived for the thrill of battle, Pulaski found the long period of anticipation to be nearly unbearable. It was all he could do to keep his anti cavalrymen ready and organized while gunshots and disembodied shouts filtered through the misty air.

used to being vastly outnumbered. And so Pulaski rode into the fray, convinced that there was still hope for the man who would later be called the father of the American Cavalry. There was always still hope of shifting the momentum, of fighting for freedom, of harnessing his unrivaled skills atop a horse, of saving the day. I'm Danah Schwartz, and this is noble blood. Through almost every phase of his life, Casimir Pulaski seemed to spark some form of debate or conflict.

Case in point, his entry into the world somehow generated four different birth records, which lead historians to often disagree on his birthday. Nevertheless, the consensus among modern scholars seems to be that the man whose name is commonly anglicized as Casimir Pulaski was born on March sixth, seventeen forty five in Warsaw, Poland. His family was devoutly Catholic and

prominent among the Polish nobility. Some sources quibble over Pulaski's education and whether he was possibly a freemason, but three things his biographers all appear to agree on are the on Count was highly driven to fight for independence. He was exceedingly passionate about horse riding, and he felt that

the more he could combine the two, the better. Pulaski's armed ambitions pushed him to join multiple wars on multiple continents and connect with some of eighty eighteenth century's most influential figures, rather than cover his entire military career or life, though, especially since Pulaski's own mood and movements seemed so often hinged on whichever campaign was directly at hand, will zoom in on two specific battles of the American Revolutionary War that,

in my mind serve as intriguing windows into his personality, his superlative horse sense, and his lasting effect on the fledgling country's fortunes. Our first battle, the Battle of Brandywine, was a doozy. The fighting along Brandywine Creek on September eleventh, seventeen seventy seven reportedly involved more soldiers than any skirmish in the war other than the Battle of Long Island. Most estimates put a total number of American and British

troops who flashed at a little over thirty thousand. However, even with army size being so vital, Pulaski almost wasn't allowed to participate at all. The Polish soldier had only recently arrived from commanding a cavalry for the bar Confederation, a group who had fiercely fought against Russian control of the Poland Lithuania Commonwealth. Pulaski's exploits there were divisive, leading many contemporaries to describe him as brave and honest, while

others characterized him as a loose cannon. But again there was little argument about his larger aspirations. Fellow soldiers frequently remarked on his disinterest in women, in drinking, and other common pursuits, as he singularly obsessively sought to fight for nations whose quests for independence he viewed as honorable and worthy. Pulaski's reputation was so considerable that, after his side lost in Poland, he arrived in America bearing a recommendation letter

from another than notable diplomat, Benjamin Franklin. Three weeks prior to the Battle of Brandywine, Pulaski had presented himself and his letter to George Washington in Pennsylvania, as the American general was strategizing about how to keep British forces from

capturing the US capital at the time, Philadelphia. The thirty one year old Polish Man, who a resident doctor described as a man of hardly middling stature, sharp continents, and lively hair, may not have had the most awe inspiring physical presence, and he hardly spoke English, but once he got on a horse, he was captivating. Pulaski reportedly performed writing stunts Washington's officers to showcase his prowess and to emphasize his claim that well trained cavalry corps could perform

feats far beyond the capacity of any infantry. It's worth taking a moment here to appreciate just how dazzling Pulaski's riding skills were. Multiple historians have related that one of the stunts Pulaski executed at Washington's headquarters involved him urging his horse to a full gallop, then shooting his pistol, tossing his pistol into the air, catching it, and precisely

hurling it at a target. He'd then circle back and, without slowing down, balance on a single stirrup, bend over to retrieve his pistol, and deftly right himself ready for his next charge. Many impressed American officers apparently could not replicate the dangerous maneuver without falling off their horses a and injuring themselves. Clearly, even in the midst of experienced horsemen,

Pulaski was a stallion among foles. However, Pulaski struggled to secure an appointment to the Continental Army before the Battle of Brandywine. Despite Pulaski's experience, Washington was reluctant to make the brash count a high ranking officer for several reasons. For one, many Europeans were arriving to seek fame and fortune in the war, and American soldiers resented foreigners getting positions above them. In addition, Washington was not the biggest

believer in having a large cavalry. Several historians assert that this skepticism was partly due to naivete as he had not witnessed a mounted division used in as effective a fashion as it had been in Europe. Practicality also heavily

factored into Washington's decisions. Overseeing America's war operation was a daunting managerial task, and Washington evidently saw infantry and artillery units as more cost effective than a cavalry, given that his side had relatively little infrastructure for training riders or caring for war horses. But Pulaski valued a robust cavalry above all and refused to take no for an answer.

After bouncing between Washington's camp and the United States Congress, growing impatient while hearing that the British were steadily getting nearer, Pulaski finally got Washington to let him act as a volunteer cavalry officer and join Washington's forces at Brandywine. The battle did not go well for the Continental Army. After eleven hours of grueling fighting, Washington's route side was forced

to make a chaotic retreat. The situation looked dire for the Americans, but also it offered a distinct opportunity for Pulaski. Up to that point, Pulaski had not gotten involved in much direct action, since Washington primarily saw fit to use cavalrymen as messengers and scouts. With their forces in utter disarray, however, Pulaski convinced Washington to let him lead thirty horsemen from the general's own guard in a swift strike on the

advancing British. Quickly finding success with his decisive, unconventional style of fighting, Pulaski reportedly then rounded up scattered soldiers and led them in an audacious attack on the enemy's oncoming flink,

buying the American's precious time to retreat. The battle still ended in defeat for the Continental Army, and the British still eventually captured Philadelphia, but numerous historians claim that without Pulaski's rear guard heroics, George Washington would have died that day, So by extension, it's not really a huge exaggeration to say that if it were not for Pulaski's persistence at Brandywine, the United States might be a very different place today.

The second of our two key Casimir Pulaski influenced battles is the Siege of Savannah in seventeen seventy nine. As the name suggests, this conflict greatly contrasted the Brandywine in terms of geography and strategy, although according to many accounts it was also one of the bloodiest of the American Revolution. The Siege of Savannah was also a fascinating microcosm of the larger war, as it involved troops arriving by land

and sea, complex tactics, and awkwardly desperate diplomacy. Even Pulaski's journey to Savannah was arduous in both a physical and emotional sense. The trek to reach the British occupied city was roughly seven hundred miles and involved numerous side missions, skirmishes, and tragic losses, many of which Pulaski endured while simultaneously suffering from malaria. But at least by this point he

had a dedicated cavalry corps. Pulaski's deeds at the Brandywine had been so undeniably valiant that Congress had allowed Washington to commission him as a brigadier general of the Continental Army's cavalry. It was a big leap, but Pulaski had been far from satisfied as his grand horse centered dreams

or corralled by several harsh realities. Namely, Washington still underestimated the cavalry's full potential, and Pulaski's own, let's say intense leadership style and limited fluency in English had reputedly caused friction between him and other officers. Before Pulaski traveled South. Financial issues in bureaucratic oversight had also frustrated him, so much so that he supposedly often covered his soldier's pay himself,

and he had once even resigned. But thanks to a productive meeting with General Horatio Gates in which the determined cavalryman had laid out his vision for an elite lancer unit, Pulaski had been reconfirmed to his rank, given the unique title of Commander of the Horse, and permitted to assemble a division of cavalry and light infant try men more

to his liking, which became known as Pulaski's Legion. Recruiting for this unit was still a constant challenge, to the point that, despite the reservations of Washington and others, Pulaski often accepted British deserters and prisoners of war into his ranks as long as he was able to personally vet

each recruit. By February seventeen seventy nine, through sheer force of will and meticulous training, Pulaski at last led a formidable cavalry unit, and in eyeing the Southern front of the war, he saw a great opportunity to put his new legion to use. The British were shifting many troops and resources southward, and in riding down to Savannah, Pulaski

relished the chance to utilize his favorite battle tactics. According to his correspondence, the Polish general viewed it as advantageous to avoid large, straightforward battles, as so many in the North were doing, and instead deploy smaller detachments to attack

quickly and unpredictably. On his way to meet General Benjamin Lincoln in Georgia, Pulaski put his style to warfare in practice, and in doing so impactfully defended several Southern sites, while also making plenty of decisions that some Southern officers viewed as impulsive and irresponsible. Times were desperate, though, and the Continental Army's only hope of reclaiming Savannah after almost a year of British occupation was to make the best of

its imperfect alliances. The awkward nature of one of these multinational relationships became especially apparent when three forces confron merged near Savannah in September seventeen seventy nine. There was Pulaski's cavalry of about two hundred and sixty men coordinating with General Lincoln's small army of one thousand South Carolina continentals and militia. And then there was the French Admiral Charles ecdor Comte de Stang's roughly four thousand reinforcements that he

brought by ship. Whereas Pulaski was at times a divisive figure in American military circles, Distang seems to have been more universally disliked. If many accounts are to be believed, he was haughty and egotistical, and unlike Pulaski, who did largely win the trust of his legion, Distang frequently alienated his closest officers by disregarding their council. That made it tricky to orchestrate a successful siege against British General Augustin

Prevost and his thirty two hundred British defenders. And yet, after coordinating with his American and French counterparts, Pulaski's cavalry so speedily cut off British supply lines and reinforcements that Distaying, eager to claim the victory, started negotiating the British side's surrender. Distang naively gave the British extra time to consider his terms, which the British General Prevost used to fortify his side's defenses.

Even so, Pulaski devised a solid assault plan, and despite the French general and General Lincoln's struggle in seeing eye to eye, he got both men to sign off. The joint forces would launch a three pronged attack. American and French divisions would engage the right and left flanks, while the ally's largest forces would attack the spring Hill Redoubt,

a key British fortification. Pulaski would wait with his cavalry and then break through into Savannah and create so much chaos by riding through the streets and attacking the defensive lines from behind that the British side's defensive advantage would evaporate. It was a very good plan. Unfortunately for Pulaski, his

plan was largely undone by a timely betrayal. Ironically, given all the handwringing about the trustworthiness of the deserters and POW's in Pulaski's legion, the double crosser in this case was American. The night before the planned attack, a member of the Charleston Grenadiers snuck over to General Prevost and told him of the Continental Army's intentions. Thus it came

to be that Annakt Sober ninth, seventeen seventy nine. After the French and American infantry divisions were substantially repelled and decimated while moving through the swamps and rice fields, Pulaski rode through the foggy marshes to try to save the gravely wounded Disdain. The rescue was not unlike so many other daring ones that Pulaski had previously pulled off, but this time his luck ran out and he was shot

in the upper right thigh by grape shot. Even as he was being pulled from the battlefield, Pulaski continued giving orders to his second in command, but the loss of their fearless general disenheartened Pulaski's legion, and ultimately the Continental Army suffered a defeat that some British accounts claimed was one of the largest of the war. Meanwhile, a surgeon tended to Pulaski, removing the Peace of grape Shot, which fun fact is now on display in a museum in Savannah.

But Pulaski was paranoid. He didn't want to remain near the British forces, fearing that if they captured him, they would turn him over to his old nemeses, the Russians. So Pulaski was taken to the American ship the Wasp. French surgeons on board tried to treat him, but gangrene spread across the wound, and Pulaski, after a little over two years of service, died on October fifteenth, seventeen seventy nine.

He was then given an honorable burial at sea or was he Like so many other chapters of his life, Pulaski's burial stirred up eventual controversy. Some rumors claimed that he was taken ashore and buried on land, some near Savannah. After a lengthy search, the married owners of a plantation claimed in eighteen fifty three that they had found Pulaski's remains. These were later interred in the Pulaski Monument in Savannah. Then in nineteen ninety six, those remains were exhumed from

the monument for DNA analysis. The results proved inconclusive, and despite fur their studies and claims that the bones were Pulaski's, the evidence still seems shaky. In addition to the proposed burial logistics being puzzling and the plantation owner's story containing holes, scholars revealed the owners to be British loyalists, so it's fairly implausible that Pulaski would have basically been buried on

hostile territory. The bones that were studied also showed certain female characteristics, which led some to propose that Pulaski could have actually been intersex, but there does not appear to be much convincing evidence to support that theory, and the bones do not conclusively match with a descendant of the Pulaski family, and so it seems most likely that the career soldier who covered so much ground in the saddle was indeed, though it may feel less narratively fitting given

a watery grave, regardless of his body's final resting place and the fact that he never married and had no known heirs, Pulaski left behind a massive legacy. His most loyal officers and companions paid him glowing tributes, and even many detractors and enemy officers credited his courage and influence

on the war. Pulaski's military strategies were also clearly ahead of their time, as evidenced by cavalry units of effectively utilizing many of his tactics during the American Civil War, and although he faced plenty of xenophobia, Pulaski's contributions to the United States's fight for independence were eventually appreciated to such a degree that he was referred to as the Soldier of Liberty, and as he probably would have likely

found the most pleasing, the father of the American Cavalry. Currently, a staggering number of structures commemorate Casmir Pulaski in the US. In addition to his monument in Savannah, other majestic statues stand in cities like Washington.

the US. As you probably noticed, besides both being memorably illiterative, the Battle of Brandywine and the Siege of Savannah also both ended poorly for the American side, But rather than being mere blights on Pulaski's record, these complex military engagements highlight his unique value. By leading a misunderstood unit, Pulaski often wound up in harrowing, long odds situations, and while victories certainly deserve to be celebrated, defeats often offer deeper insight.

As the famed boxer Mike Tyson is so often quoted as saying, everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. What made Pulaski remarkable is that he constantly kept coming up with plans even after his enemies kept proverbially punching him. If anything, Pulaski seemingly wanted to weather his opponent's best shots, and thus proved how his greatest strength was also his undoing bravery. Verging on recklessness was a great blueprint for gaining an outsized reputation, but

not so much for ensuring a long life. In a way, it's surprising that a Polish transplant who was so focused on a relatively underutilized type of warfare would become such a legendary figure in the United States's fight for independence. But in another way, it makes perfect sense. Even for those who did not fully grasp all of Pulaski's ambitions and European achievements, the Cavalry General's unbridled apologies passed and

continually resonated to this day. Few individuals as sacrifices and ocean bridging fighting spirits better embody one of Poland's unofficial mottos for our freedom and yours. That's the cavalry centric story of Casimir Pulaski. But stick around after a brief sponsor break to take one last trot down memory lane.

If you are from Illinois like me, or a fan of Sufyan Stevens, you might be aware that the first Monday in March is celebrated as Casimir Pulaski Day, and at least back when I was young, it was a day we got off school. My freshman year of college out of state, I remember telling a story about something my friends and I did on Kasmir Pulaski Day when we didn't have school, and I was met with confused stares. It was only then that I realized that Kasimir Pulaski

Day was not, in fact a nationally observed holiday. Because of Chicago's large Polish population, it was introduced as a holiday in the city in nineteen eighty six, to be celebrated on the first Monday in March. Apparently, though fairly recently, it seems not every school gives the day off anymore, and so if you live in a school district that still gets Kasimir Pulaski Day off, please do let me know. I'm curious. Noble Blood is a production of iHeartRadio and

Grim and Mild from Air. Noble Blood is hosted by me Dana Schwartz, with additional writing and research by Hannah Johnston, hannah's Wick, Courtney Sender, Amy Hit and Julia Milani. The show is edited and produced by Jesse Funk, with supervising producer rima il KLi and executive producers Aaron Manke, Trevor Young, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.