Are y’all as excited as I am about the Semiquincentennial?
Because I’m telling you—I feel like a little young’un turned loose in a candy store!
I’ve always loved the Fourth of July. Always. It didn’t matter what kind of year we were having.
Christmas? Well… Christmas could be hit or miss. Some years were lean, and you just learned not to expect too much.
But Independence Day? It never let me down.
Trips to the river or beach only cost as much as the gas to get there. Hot dogs and hamburgers? Cheap. And a spot to watch the fireworks? Free.
I fell in love with the Fourth long before I knew about the history.
But somewhere along the way, that part caught up with me, too.
Back in February, I dragged Bug down to Moore’s Creek for the 250th anniversary celebration. And ever since then, I’ve been wondering—where do we go next?
Because the truth is, we are surrounded by Revolutionary War history in North Carolina. You’ve got Brunswick Town, Halifax, Charlotte—all of them rich with Revolutionary stories, all of them worth the trip.
But I keep circling back to Fort Johnston.
And I can’t even fully explain why.
Maybe it’s because it doesn’t get talked about as much. Maybe it’s because it sits a little quieter than the rest. But there’ssomething about that place that feels… early. Like the story starts there.
Fort Johnston was already standing—well, starting to stand—long before independence was even a serious thought.
The History of Fort Johnston
Construction began in 1748 at the mouth of the Cape Fear River, built by the British to protect the colony’s naval stores trade—tar, pitch, turpentine—all the things that kept ships moving.
The North Carolina Assembly named it after Royal Governor Gabriel Johnston, and the work itself fell to rented slaves and hired hands, laying tabby foundations made from oyster shells, sand, and lime, then raising timber walls on top.
And before it was even finished, trouble found it.
In September of that same year, Spanish pirates came sailing up the river, aiming to raid the site and seize the slaves. But when they got there, the place was empty. So they kept going—up to Brunswick Town—where they looted, took hostages, and stirred up chaos for days before the local militia finally ran them off.
Governor Johnston declared the fort “complete” in 1749… though like most things, that wasn’t entirely the truth. Work kept going.
Then came 1766, and everything started to shift.
The Stamp Act had folks riled up something fierce across the colonies — especially in the Lower Cape Fear. When two merchant ships, the Dobbs and the Patience, were seized by the British for sailing without those hated stamped papers, hundreds of armed locals (at least 500 strong) formed up as the Sons of Liberty. They marched straight to Governor William Tryon’s residence at Russellborough and demanded the ships be released.
Tryon, trying to stay one step ahead, had the cannons at Fort Johnston spiked so they couldn’t be turned against British ships.
Didn’t matter.
The crowd pushed forward anyway. They took over the customs house in Brunswick Town, occupied the fort itself, and held their ground until the British finally backed off and released the ships. Right there—that was one of the boldest early acts of resistance in any colony.
And it happened right here at home.
By 1775, things had boiled over completely. Royal Governor Josiah Martin fled to Fort Johnston, but when word came that Patriot forces were on the move, he grabbed what he could and escaped to the British warship HMS Cruizer offshore.
Then came the night of July 18–19.
More than 500 militiamen—led by Cornelius Harnett, John Ashe, and Robert Howe—marched on Fort Johnston and set it on fire so the British couldn’t use it.
Governor Martin watched it burn from the water.
That moment—that fire—is considered North Carolina’s first outright military act of the American Revolution.
The fort didn’t end there. It was rebuilt, served again in the War of 1812, and even saw use during the Civil War. And today, the old Garrison House still stands as part of the Fort Johnston–Southport Museum—quiet, steady, sitting right there by the water like it’s just waiting for folks to remember.
And maybe that’s why I can’t let it go.
In a world full of big-name battlefields and crowded historic sites, Fort Johnston feels like one of those early sparks—the kind you could miss if you weren’t paying attention. A place where regular folks stood up and said “enough”… more than once.
So tell me… should we head down to Southport next?
I’d love to stand where those determined folks stood, imagine the unfinished fort under threat from Spanish raiders, the spiked cannons in 1766, and the flames lighting up the river on that July morning in 1775.
What do y’all think — Moore’s Creek was wonderful, but is Fort Johnston calling your name too?
