It is near the Augusta road, two and a half miles westward of the city. The day was very warm. The gardens were garnished with flowers; the orange-trees were blooming; blossoms covered the peach-trees, and insects were sporting in the sunbeams.
Jasper's Spring is just within the edge of a forest of oaks and gums, and is remarkable only on account of its historical associations. It is in the midst of a marshy spot partially covered with underwood, on the northern side of the road, and its area is marked by the circumference of a sunken barrel. Being the only fountain of pure water in the vicinity, it is resorted to daily by travelers upon the road. One
* We have already met Sergeant William Jasper while securing the Carolina flags upon the parapet of the Spring Hill redoubt at Savannah (see page 738), and there sealing his patriotism with his life's blood. Jasper was one of the bravest of the brave. After his exploits at Fort Moultrie, which we shall consider hereafter, his commander, General Moultrie, gave him a sort of roving commission, certain that he would always be usefully employed. Jasper belonged to the second South Carolina regiment, and was privileged to select from his corps such men as he pleased to accompany him in his enterprises. Bravery and humanity were his chief characteristics, and while he was active in the cause of his country, he never injured an enemy unnecessarily. While out upon one of his excursions, when the British had a camp at Ebenezer, all the sympathies of his heart were aroused by the distress of a Mrs. Jones, whose husband, an American by birth, was confined in irons for deserting the royal cause after taking a protection. She felt certain that he would be hanged, for, with others, he was to be taken to Savannah for that purpose the next morning. Jasper and his only companion (Sergeant Newton) resolved to rescue Jones and his fellow-prisoners. Concealing themselves in the thick bushes near the spring (at which they doubted not the guard of eight men would halt), they awaited their approach. As expected, the guard halted to drink. Only two of them remained with the prisoners, while the others, leaning their muskets against a tree, went to the spring. Jasper and his companion then leaped from their concealment, seized two of the guns, shot the two sentinels, and took possession of the remainder of the muskets. The guards, unarmed, were powerless, and surrendered. The irons were knocked off the wrists of the prisoners, muskets were placed in their hands, and the custodians of Jones and his fellow-patriots were taken to the American camp at Purysburg the next morning, themselves prisoners of war. Jones was restored to his wife, child, and country, and for that noble deed posterity blesses the name of Sergeant Jasper. That name is indelibly written on the page of history, and the people of Savannah have perpetuated it by bestowing it upon one of the beautiful squares of their city.
Departure from Savannah.—Night Voyage.—Arrival at Charleston.—Early Settlement.
of them, a wagoner, came, knelt, and quaffed when I opened my port-folio, and, as he arose from the spring I sketched him, as seen in the preceding picture. He knew nothing of the event which makes it famous.
After lingering for half an hour in the cool shade at the spring, I returned to Savannah. A slight haziness began to overspread the sky, which deepened toward evening, and descended in gentle rain when I left the city at eight o'clock in a steam-packet for Charleston. We passed the lights at Fort Pulaski at half past eight, and an hour later glided by the beacons of Tybee and breasted the rising waves of the Atlantic. Like Yellow Plush, I soon discovered the "use of basins," and at an early hour turned into my berth to prevent a turning out of my supper. During the night we passed through Port Royal entrance, touched at Beaufort, stuck in the mud in the channel between Ladies' and St. Helena Islands, and at daylight emerged again into the Atlantic through St. Helena's Sound. The breeze was hourly stiffening, and every "landlubber" on board preferred the berth to breakfast, until we approached Charleston bar, when the wind died away, the sun gleamed through the breaking clouds, and upon the bosom of long, heaving swells, we were wafted into Charleston harbor.
We landed at one o'clock, dined at two, and at three I called upon the Reverend Samuel Smythe, D.D., with a letter of introduction, with whom I passed the remainder of the afternoon in visiting places of interest upon the banks of the Cooper River, above the city. To the kind courtesy of Dr. Smythe I am indebted for much of the interest, pleasure, and profit of my visit at Charleston and vicinity.