The ‘Perfect Day’: Part II

By Peg Eastman

07 Eastman Photo Credit

PHOTO COURTESY OF THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

This is a continuation of the backstory that is seldom included in the local retelling of the defeat of the mighty British Armada, sent by King George III to capture Charles Town and the Carolinas, which commenced on June 28, 1776.

As a colonel of the Second South Carolina Regiment, William Moultrie received this message on November 9, 1775: “By Order of Congress to Col. William Moultrie, or to the commanding officer, at Fort Johnson. Sir, you are hereby commanded, with the troops under your orders, by every military operation to endeavor to oppose the passage of any British naval armament that may attempt to pass Fort Johnson, until further orders by Congress or the Council of Safety. William H. Drayton, President, Charlestown.”

Then, in December 1775, an intercepted letter revealed that the British intended to establish a base of operations in the South. However, their primary target remained shrouded in secrecy. To protect the town, the Provincial government ordered a fort of palmetto logs to be built on Sullivan’s Island. The logs were to be “ … not less than 10 inches in diameter in the middle. One third is to be 18 feet long. The other two-thirds, 20 feet long.” The palmetto logs were provided by Cornelius Dewees, who had moved to South Carolina in about 1760 and purchased Capers and Timucua Islands, establishing a plantation on the latter island that now bears his name. (Both Cornelius and his son William later fought at Fort Sullivan.)

In early March 1776, Moultrie went to Sullivan’s Island and found free men and enslaved workers busily building a “fort” of sand and palmetto logs. Skeptical, he studied the fort’s design. To his surprise, he decided it just might work and offered improvements. The fort was rectangular, with bastions at the corners, and had double walls built of palmetto logs, held together with iron bolts, set 16 feet apart, with sand filling between the logs.

Also in March, the South Carolina Navy captured the HMS General Clinton and the best local harbor pilots the British had. Based on intelligence from this capture, the Commissioners of Pilotage were instructed to destroy all channel markers from the bar through the maze-like narrows between Fort Johnson and Fort Sullivan. When the British fleet under Parker arrived to begin the siege of the harbor in early June, the lighthouse near the mouth was burned to further hamper British navigation. (These acts severely hindered the British warships from effectively navigating off Fort Sullivan and contributed directly to several flanking warships running aground and being put out of the fight.)

Subsequently, the Continental Congress sent the newly created commander of the Southern Department, General Charles Lee, to Charles Town. In George Washington’s assessment, he was “the first officer in military knowledge and experience,” although “rather fickle and violent, I fear, in his temper.”

Born to wealth and social standing, Lee’s mother was the daughter of a baronet. In 1747, his father, a colonel of the 55th Foot Regiment, purchased a commission for him in his own regiment. The youth had risen to the rank of major at 30 and in 1772 was breveted lieutenant colonel. He fought in the French and Indian War and the concurrent Seven Years’ War in Europe, receiving many testimonials for his bravery. He later served in the Polish Crown Army. Afterward, he bought property in western Virginia and joined the patriot cause.

General Lee arrived in Charles Town on June 8 with several thousand Continental soldiers from Virginia and North Carolina close behind. He oversaw 6,500 troops, about half of them Continentals, and was given command of Colonels Moultrie and Thomson and their regiments. He lost no time in inspecting the defenses and made many questionable suggestions about how best to defend the town. In addition to wanting to abandon the unfinished fort before the British arrived, Lee wanted to redirect the work on the protective brick wall on the fort’s back side and build a barrel bridge connecting the fort to Mount Pleasant. He ordered the removal of gunpowder from the fort and the removal of two cannons located at Fort Thomson at the east end of the island. Last, he endeavored to replace Moultrie and issued two orders to abandon Fort Sullivan during the battle.

Meanwhile, accompanied by the royal governors of North and South Carolina and confident of a swift victory with their secret weapon, the carronade, the fleet of 50 British warships and troop transports appeared near Dewees Island.

The troop transports proceeded to Long Island (now The Isle of Palms) to disembark about 3,000 crack British troops under the command of Lt. General Henry Clinton, who was accompanied by Major General Charles Cornwallis. When their map proved inaccurate, Clinton informed Admiral Parker that no mainland landing was feasible because of impenetrable swamps and that the inlet was too deep to wade and too shallow for warships to provide gunfire support. Further, although the squadron possessed 15 flat-bottomed assault boats, they could transport less than a quarter of Clinton’s force at one time. Clinton also overestimated the size of the opposing force under Colonel Thomson.

The British soldiers, clad in red woolen uniforms, were overcome by the June heat and humidity as they tried to adjust to the insalubrious living conditions on the island. Mosquitoes, bad water and the untamed terrain caused illness, and consequently, morale was poor.

Cornwallis even reported that they had to deal with crocodiles, presumably confusing them with indigenous alligators or deliberately exaggerating the dangers of continued encampment there. Neither commanding officer reported one word about the miscalculations in their dispatches to England.

On the morning of June 28, to avoid notification that he would be relieved of his command, William Moultrie went to the other end of the island to talk to Colonel William Thomson. When he saw the sails of the British warships unfurl, he mounted his horse and galloped back to Fort Sullivan, arriving just in time to alert the men to prepare for the forthcoming assault.

The Thunder was the first to fire. A British shell squarely struck the fort’s magazine, which miraculously failed to detonate. For hours, British cannons relentlessly pounded the fort, but the cannonballs merely lodged in the 16 feet of sand behind the spongy palmetto logs and did little damage. Whenever the Patriots fired back, their cannonballs did tremendous damage to warships made of stout English oak. First one “lucky” shot, then another, and yet another, and soon three warships were disabled.

The ferocious battle left the fort out of powder, and its guns remained silent for over an hour. Sergeant Jasper’s heroic rescue of the flag during the battle has become legendary. Lee finally arrived in the afternoon to find the defenders “determined and cool to the last degree.” Seven hundred pounds of much-needed powder were sent with a note from John Rutledge to Moultrie: “Do not make too free with your cannon. Cool and do mischief.”

In the evening, with his ammunition dwindling, the tide ebbing, and his ships severely damaged, Parker signaled the squadron to withdraw. Both Bristol’s Captain John Morris and Lord Campbell had suffered grievous wounds that would later take their lives. Added to the humiliation, Parker literally and famously had his britches shot off. The Actaeon, marooned on a sandbar, was beyond salvage. Its captain received permission from Parker to abandon ship and set the frigate ablaze, but not before a Patriot boarding party from a nearby sloop of war captured the ship’s bell and flag. They had scarcely left when Actaeon exploded.

The British Army on Long Island fared little better. When they attempted to cross the supposedly “gentle and shallow” inlet that separated them from Sullivan’s Island, they discovered that their heavy boats lodged in the inlet shoals and ran aground. When they debarked and attempted to swim, they found the water far deeper than they had thought. Once the Patriots, protected by palmetto and earthen breastworks, began shooting, the British withdrew to the safety of Long Island and remained there until the battle ended.

The perfect day was a disaster for the British. Battle casualties exceeded 200; damage to morale was devastating. “This will not be believed when it is first reported in England,” a British naval surgeon predicted. Both Parker and Clinton hurriedly wrote dispatches, the better to influence what London might believe. Parker’s account to the admiralty omitted Clinton’s offer of a diversionary attack and other relevant details.

The British ministry was horrified by the defeat. The caption on the above picture documents what a calamity it was. Images were ordered by an Act of Parliament and were reproduced within six weeks of the defeat, a remarkable achievement considering the time it took for Parker’s fleet to withdraw and send a message by sailing ship to London.

However, as with any failed operation, the King did not take the blame or acknowledge defeat. Neither did Clinton nor Parker, who would later state, “My wish is that not a syllable be ever mentioned in Publick about the expedition …” The operation was officially dismissed at Whitehall “as a small trifle of no consequence,” a storyline still embraced by many. However, it was the first decisive continental and allied militia victory against the combined forces of the best the British Army and Royal Navy had to offer.

That is not the end of the story. Stay tuned.

My appreciation to Ken Scarlett, Bob Stockton and Christopher Liberatos for contributing to this article.

A Charlestonian by birth, Margaret (Peg) Middleton Rivers Eastman is actively involved in the preservation of Charleston’s rich cultural heritage. In addition to being a regular columnist for the Charleston Mercury, she has published with McGraw-Hill, The History Press, Evening Post Books, and Carologue, a publication of the South Carolina Historical Society. She is a member of the Charleston History Commission and serves on the Friends of the Old Exchange board.