he
fort, which really presented little more than a front towards the
sea, his apprehensions were justifiable, and, could the fort have
been enfiladed, as the British designed, it certainly would have been
untenable. From the moment of his arrival, to the very moment when the
action was raging, his chief solicitude seems to have been to ensure the
defenders of the fortress a safe retreat. It is to their immortal honor
that this mortifying measure was unnecessary.

On the 20th of June, 1776, a day ever memorable in the annals of
Carolina, the British ships of war, nine in number,*1* commanded by Sir
Peter Parker, drew up abreast of the fort, let go their anchors, with
springs upon their cables, and commenced a terrible bombardment. The
famous battle which followed makes one of the brightest pages in
our history. Its events, however, are too generally known to make it
necessary that we should dwell upon them here. A few, however, belong
properly and especially to our pages. The subject of this memoir was
a conspicuous sharer in its dangers and in its honors. The fire of the
enemy was promptly answered, and with such efficiency of aim as to be
long remembered by the survivors. Having but five thousand pounds of
powder, with which to maintain a conflict that raged for eleven hours,
with unabated violence, it became necessary, not only that the discharge
from the fort should be timed, but that every shot should be made to
do execution. In order to do this the guns were trained by the
field-officers in person; hence, perhaps, the terrible fatality of their
fire. The Bristol, 50 gun ship, Commodore Sir Peter Parker, lost 44
men killed and thirty*2* wounded. Sir Peter himself lost an arm. The
Experiment, another 50 gun ship, had 57 killed and 30 wounded.*3* To
these two vessels in particular, the attention of the fort was directed.
The words, passed along the line by officers and men, were--"Look to the
Commodore--look to the fifty gun ships."*4* The smaller vessels suffered
comparatively little. Their loss of men was small. The injury to
the vessels themselves was greater, and one of them, the Acteon, run
aground, and was subsequently burnt. The Carolinians lost but twelve men
killed and twice that number wounded. One of the former was the brave
fellow Macdonald, of whom we have already spoken. When borne from the
embrasure where he received his mortal wound, he cried out to those
around him--"Do not give up--you are fighting f