May 27th, 1776
Awoke this morning to discover that some hours before dawn, a landing party of Marines had conducted an assault upon the island, which is called Gwynn’s Isle. They met with no resistance.
We were piped awake at sunrise and mustered in preparation for disembarkation. When we were brought up upon the deck, we saw in ruddy first light the motion of countless launches all around us proceeding to the shore of the island. We shortly followed, rowing the broad avenues through the fleet.
We passing the Dunmore, there was a general commotion upon our launch, and hands pointed to the aft of that vessel; where, upon examination, we could perceive His Lordship standing in the windows of his cabin, candles lit around him, gazing out upon the dawn and his assault. He appeared no more than a specter, features indistinct, a white face held gently in darkness.
We grounded our craft upon the western bank of the island. There were, by the time of our arrival, hundreds of men upon the shore, with our drummers beating to form us into companies.
Our Company proceeded north along the shore, a woodland upon our right; then marched along a road that led into the interior of the island, past a sizeable pond and several prosperous farms. At these generous habitations, we halted briefly, that an ensign might deliver word to the inhabitants of our securing the island in the name of His Majesty.
We having marched and delivered fine shew of arms throughout the northwestern quadrant of the island, we returned to our point of disembarkation and commenced our breakfast. Hardly had we begun to eat when we were ordered south to begin work on building a fortification and barracks.
I little relish the thought of more construction.
We set out to dig latrines, while others of our Regiment were put to raising redoubts.
We could see the enemy upon the shore. They were separated from our island by but two hundred yards of water — a channel scarcely sufficient to splash through as refreshment on a summer’s day. Their proximity was intolerable. Still, we set to our digging.
’Twas not yet eight when they opened fire upon us.
The Quartermaster-Serjeant who strolled along our lines held up his hand and commanded, “Dig, boys. Pray don’t give no mind to the rebel scoundrel.”
Nothing concealed our antagonists; they crouched in rustic garb, armed with rifle and musket, in the ferns across the narrows, firing and reloading without haste or concern.
Slant, laboring beside me, ceased to dig and glared across the river at these impertinent curs, a look I had not seen inhabit his features previous: the look of one pressed by continual harassment to abandon good nature for extreme hatred.
We labored on. The fire, however, grew so troublesome and quick that after but a few minutes, the Quartermaster-Serjeant, having demanded we stand firm, called out orders for us to pull back.
We could not proceed with our work until the sloop-of-war Otter and her tenders assembled themselves near us in the channel, and began fire from their cannons, which sharp bombardment convinced the rebels to flee from the shore.
The Otter remained at anchor near the point where we labored; thus covered, we returned to our duties.
We spent the remainder of the day in constructing fortifications and the rudiments of the camp.
It appears that this shall be our occupation for some days to come.