Charleston, second week of January 1782
Lieutenant Colonel Rafer Muir stared at the map held down on the table by lead weights made from canister balls, heated, and then flattened on one side. On the copy of the same 1775 Sayer/Bennett chart Amos Laredo used, Rawdon’s staff had placed red-coated toy soldiers where British Army and German units were. A solitary soldier in a light blue coat was positioned north of Dorchester, where Corporal Thornton said the 4th Carolina was bivouacked.
Muir was in what used to be the dining room of the three-story home that was now the headquarters of Lord Islay and the two Scottish infantry regiments in Charleston – the 11th and 42nd. The Loyalist owners of the home had moved into what used to be the servant’s quarters next to the small stable at the back of the house.
In recognition of the sunlight, Muir blew out the candle in the lantern he was using to cast light over the map. Nothing in his mind had changed since his initial analysis. This effort, like each one before, would turn into a bloody affair.
With its victory at Yorktown, Muir was convinced the Continental Army was emboldened and spoiling for a fight in which they would inflict another defeat on the British Army. No longer was British Army experience, training, and firepower enough to carry the day. The rebels, as his generals called them, were now every bit as good as the British Army.
The events leading to being ordered to plan another re-supply effort were as predictable as the sun coming up. There was now enough sunlight so that the toy soldiers, each representing a regiment of British or German troops, were casting shadows on the map.
Lord Islay had bought the molded lead soldiers from a toymaker in London who had painted their faces and given some red coats and white breeches for the British Army and dark blue for the German regiments. The soldiers representing the Highlanders wore dark blue-green kilts.
Each cannon on the map represented a battery of artillery, and each horseman, a troop of dragoons. Off in the corner of the table, there was a grouping of figures painted light blue. They were supposed to represent the enemy, but Muir had taken all but one off because the British Army did not have accurate intelligence of where General Greene and the Continental Army were or its strength.
By only putting one light blue soldier on the map, Muir gently reminded Lord Islay what little they knew about the enemy. Today, he was supposed to discuss his plan to march 80 miles through rebel-held territory to Fort Granby. Once the fort was burned, the garrison would join Islay’s column, move south to Fort Motte, and repeat the process. General Leslie’s objective was to bring every British Army and Loyalist unit in South Carolina to the place he called Charles Town.
Muir responded to a sharp knock on the door. “Come in.”
A young lieutenant on Lord Islay’s staff opened the door holding a tray. “Sir, I thought you’d like a breakfast of bacon and eggs and some tea.”
“What’s in the bowl?”
“Something the locals call hominy that I know you like with a pat of butter on the top.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant MacRae. Please put it down on the side table.”
MacRae did as he was told and then turned to his superior officer. “Lord Islay will be served breakfast in a few minutes.”
This was MacRae’s way of saying Muir had time to eat.
The young lieutenant who grew up near Aberdeen, had a Scotch brogue as thick as the hominy grits. He’d arrived along with almost a thousand other replacements after Cornwallis surrendered. MacRae glanced at the map. “Sir, are we going after the rebels in the interior?”
Muir almost said, “I am not sure if the rebels are going after the British Army, or the British Army is going after the rebels.” But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Aye, MacRae, we’re going to bring our soldiers back from the forts up north.”
Satisfied, MacRae left Muir alone with his breakfast, thoughts, and the map.
After breakfast, Muir needed less than 20 minutes to explain his plan to Lord Islay. The British Army’s options were dictated by the two roads.
When he was finished, Lord Islay understood Muir’s plan’s geographic and operational constraints. He confided that what was holding Leslie back was the arrival of promised reinforcements. A thousand more men should arrive sometime in early February. “So, Muir, what say you about the chances of finding the 4th Carolina and destroying its base?”
“Sir, I have little doubt we will find the 4th Carolina. But, my lord, I think they and their musket balls will find more of us than ours will find them.”
Lord Islay wanted the private meeting to get Muir’s candid opinion without it being filtered and heard by his staff.
“Colonel, something is eating at you about this operation, tell me.”
“Sir, we owe it to our men to attempt to negotiate a deal with the rebels to let our men march back to Charleston without fear of being attacked. We could agree not to conduct offensive operations if they agree not to attack us. We could even promise to leave.”
“You think the rebel General Greene would agree?”
“Sir, I do. It is a bloodless victory for him. For us, we get stronger because we have all our men here in Charleston.” Muir wanted to add to be evacuated but didn’t dare.
“And if General Greene doesn’t agree to this parlay you propose, then what?”
“We follow my plan, or another General Leslie may prefer. If we want to rescue our men, we need more than two regiments of foot and a squadron of dragoons to succeed. Mark my words, my Lord, without an agreement, this will be a bloody affair.”
Lord Islay nodded his head. The battle in which the 11th (Highland) Regiment of Foot, augmented by a battery of artillery and the 200-plus Loyalists in the Green Dragoons, attacked Dorchester was still fresh in his mind. That day, the 4th Carolina decimated the Green Dragoons, and the 11th lost over 200 men.
“Your plan is a good one, and I agree, we should convince General Leslie to try to work out a temporary truce with General Greene.”
Later in the morning, General Leslie was adamant. He would not, under any circumstance, attempt to negotiate a truce with General Greene. He believed such an agreement was tantamount to surrender. He added two more infantry regiments, one Hessian and one British, to augment the force and approved Muir’s plan.
As the two officers left Leslie’s headquarters, Lord Islay pointed to a rampart overlooking the Ashley River on Charleston’s west side. Seeing the two senior officers, the British soldiers manning the battery moved out of the way to give the two senior officers privacy.
Islay faced the river so none of their words would carry to those wanting to overhear what was said. “Muir, we’ve been together for over a decade. Out with it, man! What is on your mind?”
“My lord, may I speak very candidly?”
“Aye, that is why we are here.”
“My lord, nothing I am about to say is meant to sound disloyal, but continuing this war is utter madness. The rebels don’t want us around and will fight us for as long as it takes to win. The whole war reminds me of when our Scottish forbears under William Wallace fought Edward I for our independence. We lost, and many died on both sides. Frankly, sir, I think we should leave and let the rebels have a go at governing themselves. If they cock it up, then we can offer to help and even bring them back into the Empire. Continuing to fight these rebels is foolish, no, I take that back. It is the height of stupidity. Many of our lads will be maimed or killed. Again, for what? The rebels will win in the end because they are willing to die for the same freedoms we enjoy.”
“You know, Muir, one could take your comments as defeatist.”
“Sir, I think I am a realist. If you want, you can cashier me out of the Army and cost me my pension.”
“I could, but I won’t. This war has gotten to you. Some might say you’ve gone native. You like Charleston, don’t you.”
“I do, sir. After many of the shite holes you and I have been to in the British Army, Charleston is quite nice. And, sir, I serve at your pleasure, so if you want me to go on half pay, I will do so immediately.”
“No, Rafer, I do not want you to retire. I need you, and the British Army needs you. However, like you, I question why we are here, and I suspect this will be our last campaign in South Carolina. Peace, I believe, may be coming. In the meantime, I need you to do your duty.”
Muir nodded gently. “That, my lord, I will do to the best of my ability.”
Lord Islay turned to face his subordinate. “That is all England, and I can ask.”
