confluence of the two rivers, Ashley and Cooper, and on which
Charleston is built, lies _Sullivan's island_. It commands the channel
which leads to the port. The due fortification of this point was a
matter of great moment. The outline of a fort had already been marked
out, to complete which, Colonel William Moultrie, a singularly brave
and accomplished officer, was dispatched early in March. Palmetto
trees, which from their soft and spongy texture, were admirably
calculated to deprive a ball of its impetus without causing splinters,
had been cut in the forest, and the logs in huge rafts lay moored to
the beach. "Ignorant of gunnery, but confident in their own resources,
and nerved with resolute courage, Moultrie and his coadjutors, hardy
sons of the soil, heaved those huge logs from the water, and began the
work. A square pen was built, with bastions from each angle, capable
of covering a thousand men. The logs were laid in two parallel rows,
and sixteen feet apart; bound together with cross-timbers dove-tailed
and bolted into logs, and the wide space filled with sand. When
completed, it presented the appearance of a solid wall, sixteen feet
wide; but its strength was yet to be tested. Behind this, Moultrie
placed four hundred and thirty-five men, and thirty-one cannon, some
of them twenty-sixes, some eighteens, and the rest of smaller
caliber--throwing in all five hundred and thirteen pounds.
"It was at this juncture that Lee arrived from the north, and took
command of the troops. When his eye, accustomed to the scientific
structures of Europe, fell on this rudely-built affair, he smiled in
derision, calling it a '_slaughter-pen_,' and requested Governor
Rutledge to have it immediately evacuated. But that noble patriot was
made of sterner stuff, and replied, 'that while a soldier remained
alive, he would never give his sanction to such an order.'"
The naval force of the British, consisted of the Bristol and
Experiment, of fifty guns; four frigates, the Active, the Acteon, the
Solebay, and the Syren, of twenty-eight; the Sphynx, of twenty, the
Friendship, of twenty-two, two smaller vessels of eight, and the
Thunder, a bomb-ketch. On reaching the bar, at the entrance of the
channels of Charleston, it was found that the fifty-gun ships could
not pass without being lightened. The removal and rëplacement of their
guns was attended with incredible labor; and although thus lightened,
they struck, and for a time were in danger of bilging.
Meanwhile, General Clinton issued his proclamation, which he
dispatched to the city with a flag, demanding the citizens to lay down
their arms, and to return to their allegiance, on pain of an immediate
attack, and an utter overthrow. To this demand, not even the civility
of a reply was accorded, and the threatened attack, on the morning of
the 28th of June, was commenced.
To the citizens of Charleston those were anxious hours. There was
hope, but more of fear. They filled the wharves, the roofs, and the
steeples--in short, every eminence was black with spectators, gazing
on the exciting scene and the approaching conflict.
It was a calm, bright, beautiful day. The wind being fair, the British
fleet came steadily, proudly, towards the "slaughter-pen," and one
after another took the positions assigned them. The Americans watched
them with intense interest--"Moultrie's eye flashed with delight."
Every gun was loaded--every one was manned--and all were now anxiously
waiting the order to fire. At length, a portion of the fleet had
reached point-blank-shot distance, when Moultrie, who, like Prescott
at the battle of Bunker's hill, had restrained his anxiously-waiting
men, now gave the word of command "_Fire!_"--And they did fire--and
"the shores shook with the tremendous explosion."
The fleet continued to advance, a little abreast of the fort, when
letting go their anchors, and clewing up their sails, they opened upon
the fort. More than a hundred cannon!--their blaze, their smoke, their
roar--all in the same instant--it was a terrible commencement--the
stoutest heart palpitated! every one unconsciously held his breath!
"The battle had now fairly commenced, and the guns were worked with
fearful rapidity. It was one constant peal of thunder, and to the
spectators in Charleston, that low spot, across the bay, looked like a
volcano breaking forth from the sea. Lee stood on Haddrell's point,
watching the effect of the first fire. When the smoke lifted, like the
folds of a vast curtain, he expected to see that 'slaughter-pen' in
fragments; but there still floated the flag of freedom, and beneath it
beat brave hearts, to whom that awful cannonade was but 'a symphony to
the grand march of independence.' When the fight had fairly begun,
they thought no more of those heavy guns than they did of their
rifles. Their coats were hastily flung one side, and their hats with
them--and in their shirt-sleeves, with handkerchiefs about their
heads, they toiled away under the sweltering sun with the coolness and
courage of old soldiers. The fire from those nine vessels, with their
cannon all trained upon that pile of logs, was terrific, and it
trembled like a frightened thing under the shock; but the good
palmettoes closed silently over the balls, as they buried themselves
in the timber and sand, and the work went bravely on. Thus, hour after
hour, did it blaze, and flame, and thunder there on the sea, while the
shots of the Americans told with murderous effect. At every discharge,
those vessels shook as if smitten by a rock--the planks were ripped
up, the splinters hurled through the air, and the decks strewed with
mangled forms. Amid the smoke, bombs were seen traversing the air, and
dropping, in an incessant shower, within the fort--but a morass in the
middle swallowed them up as fast as they fell. At length, riddled
through and through, her beds of mortar broken up, the bomb-vessel
ceased firing. Leaving the smaller vessels, as unworthy of his
attention, Moultrie trained his guns upon the larger ones, and 'Look
to the Commodore! look to the fifty-gun ship!' passed along the lines,
and they _did_ look to the Commodore in good earnest, sweeping her
decks at every discharge with such fatal fire, that at one time there
was scarcely a man left upon the quarter-deck. The Experiment, too,
came in for her share of consideration--her decks were slippery with
blood, and nearly a hundred of her men were borne below, either killed
or wounded. Nor were the enemy idle, but rained back a perfect tempest
of balls; but that brave garrison had got used to the music of cannon,
and the men, begrimed with powder and smoke, shot with the precision
and steadiness they would have done in firing at a target. As a heavy
ball, in full sweep, touched the top of the works, it took one of the
coats, lying upon the logs, and lodged it in a tree. 'See that coat!
see that coat!' burst in a laugh on every side, as if it had been a
mere plaything that had whistled past their heads. Moultrie, after a
while, took out his pipe, and lighting it, leaned against the logs,
and smoked away with his officers, as if they were out there sunning
themselves, instead of standing within the blaze, and smoke, and
uproar of nearly two hundred cannon. Now and then he would take the
pipe from his mouth to shout '_fire!_' or give some order, and then
commence puffing and talking--thus presenting a strange mixture of the
droll and heroic. The hearts of the spectators in the distance, many
of whom had husbands and brothers in the fight, were far more agitated
than they against whom that fearful iron storm was hailing.
"After the fight had continued for several hours, Lee, seeing that the
'slaughter pen' held out so well, passed over to it in a boat, and
remained for a short time. Accustomed as he was to battle, and to the
disciplined valor of European troops, he still was struck with
astonishment at the scene that presented itself as he approached.
There stood Moultrie, quietly smoking his pipe, while the heavy and
rapid explosions kept up a deafening roar; and there, stooping over
their pieces, were those raw gunners firing with the deadly precision
of practised artillerists. Amazed to find an English fleet, carrying
two hundred and sixty guns, kept at bay by thirty cannon and four
hundred men, he left the fort to its brave commander, and returned to
his old station."[38]
Among the Americans, who were that day in the "slaughter-pen," and who
were dealing death and destruction without stint, was a Sergeant
Jasper, whose name has since been given to one of the counties in
Georgia, for this and other heroic deeds. In the warmest of the
contest, the flag-staff of the fort was shot away by a cannon-ball,
and fell to the outside of the ramparts on the beach. The spectators
at Charleston saw it fall, and supposing that the fort had yielded,
were filled with consternation and dismay. In the surrender of the
fort, they read the destiny of themselves and city. But what was their
joy to perceive that columns of smoke, from the fort, still continued
to roll up--the blaze and thunder of its cannon continued to be seen
and heard; and presently the folds of the flag again fluttered in the
breeze. Sergeant Jasper was the hero of the occasion. He had witnessed
the fall of the flag--and he saw it "stretched in dishonor on the
sand." It was a perilous attempt, but he did not hesitate. Leaping the
ramparts, he proceeded, amidst a shower of balls, the entire length of
the fort, and, picking up the flag, tied it to a post, and rëplaced it
on a parapet, and there, too, he himself supported it till another
flag-staff could be procured. Here, once more, it proudly waved--amid
the shouts and congratulations of the now still more courageous in the
fort, and to the joy of still more distant and equally anxious
spectators of the scene.
[Illustration: Sergeant Jasper replanting the Flag at Fort Moultrie.]
About this time, another circumstance sent a momentary panic through
the stern hearts of the defenders of the fort. The ammunition was
failing, and a large force, which had effected a landing, was in rapid
march to storm the works. Moultrie instantly dispatched Marion to a
sloop-of-war for a supply, and another message to Governor Rutledge at
Charleston. Both were successful--both in season. Said the governor,
in a note accompanying five hundred pounds of powder, "Do not make too
free with your cannon--_cool, and do mischief_."
With this fresh supply of ammunition, the fire, which had been
relaxed, was redoubled. The British were astounded. They had
congratulated themselves, upon the partial suspension of firing, that
the fort was about to yield. But the new fury of the firing, on the
part of the Americans, soon served to convince them of their error.
They also redoubled their efforts, and, for a time, the contest was
more terrible than ever. "Once," it is said, "the broadsides of four
vessels exploded together, and when the balls struck the fort, it
trembled in every timber and throughout its entire extent, and shook
as if about to fall in pieces."
The day was now wearing away, and still the contest was undecided. The
British, reluctant to relinquish an object which in the morning they
imagined so easily won, still continued the heavy cannonade; while the
Americans, gathering strength and courage by what they had already
accomplished, stood firm and undaunted. At length, the sun went down
behind the distant shore, and darkness threw its ample folds on every
object of nature. But now, through the darkness, flames shot forth and
thunders rolled, presenting a scene of solemn and indescribable
grandeur. The inhabitants of Charleston still lingered on their
watchtowers, gazing out through the gloom towards the spot where the
battle was still raging in its fiercest intensity.
But they were not destined to hope and pray in vain. At about half-past
nine, the fire from the English fleet suddenly ceased. They had fought
long--fought with all the ardor and enthusiasm of friends to their king
and his cause. But they had fought in vain. Victory decided for
Moultrie and his patriot band, and it only remained for the English to
withdraw, as well as they were able, their ships, which had been nearly
disabled, and their crews, which had been dreadfully reduced.
"The loss of the Americans, in this gallant action," says the writer
whom we have already quoted, "was slight, amounting to only thirty-six,
both killed and wounded, while that of the British, according to their
own accounts, was a hundred and sixty. Double the number would probably
be nearer the truth. The commander had his arm carried away. One is
surprised that so few of the garrison were killed, when it is remembered
that nearly ten thousand shots and shells were fired by the enemy that
day. The Acteon, during the action, went aground, and the next morning a
few shots were fired at her, when a party was sent to take possession of
her. The crew, however, setting fire to her, pushed off. When the
Americans got on board, they turned two or three of the guns on the
fugitives, but, finding the flames approaching the magazine, abandoned
the vessel. For a short time, she stood a noble spectacle, with her tall
masts wreathed in flame, and black hull crackling and blazing below. But
when the fire reached the powder, there suddenly shot up a huge column
of smoke, spreading like a tree at the top, under the pressure of the
atmosphere--and then the ill-fated vessel lifted heavily from the water,
and fell back in fragments, with an explosion that was heard for miles
around."
A few days following the battle, the fort was visited by Governor
Rutledge and many of the distinguished ladies and gentlemen of
Charleston. They came to see the old "slaughter-pen," which had so
nobly withstood the attack under such long-practiced and accomplished
officers as Parker, Clinton, and Cornwallis. Ample praises were
bestowed upon the "rough-and-ready" soldiers, while mutual
congratulations were exchanged with Moultrie and his brave associates
in command. Nor was the gallant Jasper forgotten. Taking from his
side his sword, Governor Rutledge buckled it on the daring soldier, as
a reward for his noble exploit. Following this, the accomplished Mrs.
Elliot presented a pair of elegant colors to the regiment under
Moultrie and Motte, with the following brief, but beautiful address:
"The gallant behavior in defence of liberty and your country, entitle
you to the highest honor; accept, then, two standards, as a reward
justly due to your regiment; and I make not the least doubt, under
Heaven's protection, you will stand by them as long as they can wave
in the air of liberty."
The colors thus presented to Colonel Moultrie were, at a subsequent
date, carried by him to _Savannah_, and were displayed during the
assault against that place. Two officers were killed, while attempting
to place them upon the enemy's parapet at the Spring-hill redoubt.
Just before the retreat, Jasper, while endeavoring to rëplace them
upon the works, received a mortal wound. When a retreat was ordered,
he recollected the honorable condition upon which the donor presented
them to his regiment, and among the last acts of his life, he
succeeded in bringing them off.
To Major Horry, who called to see him a little while before his death,
he said: "Major, I have got my furlough. That sword was presented to
me by Governor Rutledge, for my services in defence of Fort Moultrie;
give it to my father, and tell him I have worn it with honor. If he
should weep, tell him his son died in hope of a better life. Tell Mrs.
Elliot that I lost my life supporting the colors which she presented
to our regiment."
Such was the affair at Fort Moultrie--such the patriotic and
chivalrous conduct of men fighting for their altars, their homes,
their wives, their children. Was it strange that, in a good cause,
Heaven should smile on such high and heroic conduct? Was it strange
that a people, so intent on the enjoyment of their just rights, should
accomplish their object?
This repulse of the British, it may be added, was unexpected to them;
and the more so, as they well knew that no systematic measure of
defence had been adopted at the South. The contest had hitherto been
in a different quarter, and no intimations had transpired of a
contemplated change. In addition to this, the British were profoundly
ignorant of the true southern character. They had learned some lessons
in regard to the "Yankees;" and, especially, that if they were made of
"stuff," it was "stern stuff;" but they had yet to learn, that the
same kind of ore abounded south of the Potomac. The old
"slaughter-pen" on Sullivan's Island, _enlightened_ them, and
_impressed_ them as to the fact so fully, that the influence of the
lesson lasted for two years and a half--that being the respite of the
Southern states from the calamities of war, consequent upon the
repulse of the British at Fort Moultrie.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTE:
[38] Headley's Washington and his Generals.
VII. MILITARY REVERSES--LOSS OF NEW YORK.
BRITISH take possession of Staten Island--Strongly
rëinforced--State of the American Army--Occupation of New York
and Brooklyn--Battle of Brooklyn--Americans repulsed--Long
Island abandoned--Remarkable retreat--Gloomy state of the
American Army--Washington retreats to Harlem--Movements of the
British--Washington retires to White Plains--Loss of Fort
Washington--American Army pursued--Retreats successively to
Brunswick, Princeton, and Trenton--Thence to the Pennsylvania
side of the Delaware--British go into Winter-quarters between
the Delaware and Hackensack--Capture of General Lee--Prevalent
Spirit of Despondency.
From the commencement of hostilities to the evacuation of Boston by the
British, the cause of the Americans had appeared to be specially favored
by Heaven. In their several engagements, if they had not achieved
decided victories, the _effect_ of them was such as to inspire
confidence, to diffuse through the colonies an unabated ardor, and the
most lively anticipations of ultimate and not far-distant triumph. A
season of sad reverse, and consequent dejection, however, was appointed
for them, perhaps to teach them more entire dependence upon Divine
Providence, and to enhance the value of a final conquest, when it should
arrive, and which, though distant, was still in reserve for them.
On the retirement of the British fleet from Boston, Washington was
left to conjecture its destination. Apprehending, however, a hostile
attempt upon New York, he had, before their departure, detached a
considerable force for the protection of that important post. The main
army soon followed, and, on the 14th of April, entered the city.
Measures were immediately adopted to place it in a state of defence.
Contrary to the expectations of Washington, the British fleet, on
leaving the waters of Boston, directed its course to Halifax, at which
place rëinforcements from England were expected by Sir William Howe.
Disappointed, however, in this latter respect, and finding provisions
for his troops scarce, he resolved on sailing for New York.
On the 2d of July, he took possession of Staten Island. The
inhabitants of the island received the English general with great
demonstrations of joy. The soldiers being quartered about in the
villages, found, in abundance, the refreshments of which they were in
the greatest need. Here General Howe was visited by Governor Tryon,
who gave him precise information with respect to the state of the
province, as also with regard to the forces and preparations of the
enemy. Many inhabitants of New Jersey came to offer themselves to be
enrolled for the royal service; even those of Staten Island were
forward to enlist under the English standard; every thing announced
that the army had only to show itself in the provinces to be assured
of a prompt victory. Admiral Howe, after touching at Halifax, where he
found dispatches from his brother, who urged him to come and join him
at New York, made sail again immediately, and landed, without
accident, at Staten Island, the 12th of July. General Clinton arrived
about the same time, with the troops he rëconducted from the
unfortunate expedition against Charleston. Commodore Hotham also
appeared, with the rëinforcements under his escort; so that in a short
time the army amounted to about twenty-four thousand men--English,
Hessians, and Waldekers. Several regiments of Hessian infantry were
expected to arrive shortly, when the army would be carried to the
number of thirty-five thousand combatants, of the best troops of
Europe. America had never seen such a display of forces.[39]
The Americans, on their part, meanwhile, had made every effort in their
power to resist the danger to their cause, menaced by so formidable a
force. The militia of the neighboring provinces, and a few regular
regiments from Maryland, from Pennsylvania, and New England, had been
called in, by which several augmentations the American force had been
nominally raised to twenty-seven thousand. One-fourth part of these,
however, were disabled by sickness, and nearly an equal number were
destitute of arms, leaving but about fourteen thousand and five hundred
effective men. Among so heterogeneous a force, collected in a time of
danger and excitement, there existed little opportunity to introduce
order and discipline. To the discerning eye of Washington, grounds of
serious apprehension existed; but, nevertheless, with his usual calmness
and energy, he adopted every measure within his means to sustain his
position, and inspire his soldiers with hope and confidence. In his
energetic proclamations addressed to the army, he exhorted them "to
animate and encourage each other, and show the whole world that a
freeman, contending for liberty on his own ground, is superior to any
slavish mercenary on earth."
As Washington was necessarily ignorant by what route the British would
choose to approach the city, he was reluctantly compelled to divide
his forces. A part were stationed in the city, a part at Brooklyn,
Long Island, and detachments at various other assailable points.
Thus the armies, more numerous than had hitherto been collected, were
fairly arranged, and every succeeding day was bringing nearer a
contest which might decide the fate of the new republic.
At length, from various indications, the American general was
convinced that the first attack would be upon the forces at Brooklyn.
Accordingly, he rëinforced that point, by a detachment of six
regiments, and placed General Putnam in command.
"On the 22d of August, the British forces were landed on the opposite
side of Long Island. The two armies were now about four miles asunder,
and were separated by a range of hills, over which passed three main
roads. Various circumstances led General Putnam to suspect that the
enemy intended to approach him by the road leading to his right, which
he therefore guarded with most care.
"Very early in the morning of the 26th, his suspicions were
strengthened by the approach upon that road, of a column of British
troops, and upon the center road, of a column of Hessians. To oppose
these, the American troops were mostly drawn from the camp, and in the
engagements which took place, evinced considerable bravery.
"These movements of the enemy were but feints to divert the attention
of Putnam from the road which led to his left, along which General
Clinton was silently advancing with the main body of the British army.
The report of cannon in that direction, gave the first intimation of
the danger which was approaching. The Americans endeavored to escape
it, by returning with the utmost celerity to their camp. They were not
able to arrive there in time, but were intercepted by General Clinton,
who drove them back upon the Hessians.
"Attacked thus in front and rear, they fought a succession of
skirmishes, in the course of which many were killed, many were made
prisoners; and several parties, seeing favorable opportunities, forced
their way through the enemy, and regained the camp. A bold and
vigorous charge, made by the American general, Lord Sterling, at the
head of a Maryland regiment, enabled a large body to escape in this
manner. This regiment, fighting with desperate bravery, kept a force
greatly superior engaged, until their comrades had passed by, when the
few who survived, ceasing to resist, surrendered to the enemy.
"The loss of the Americans in killed, wounded, and taken prisoners,
considerably exceeded a thousand. Among the latter, were Generals
Sullivan, Sterling, and Woodhull. The total loss of the enemy was less
than four hundred."[40]