* During the action, Sergeant William Jasper, whom we have already met at the Spring, near Savannah, and witnessed his death while planting the Carolina flag upon the parapet of the British works, at the siege of that town, performed a daring feat. At the commencement of the action, the flag-staff was cut away by a ball from a British ship, and the Crescent flag of South Carolina, that waved opposite the Union flag upon the western bastion, fell outside, upon the beach. Jasper leaped the parapet, walked the length of the fort, picked up the flag, fastened it upon a sponge staff, and in the midst of the iron hail pouring upon the fortress, and in sight of the whole fleet, he fixed the flag firmly upon the bastion. Three cheers greeted him as he ascended to the parapet and leaped, unhurt, within the fort. On the day after the battle, Governor Rutledge visited the fort, and rewarded Jasper for his valor by presenting him with his own handsome small sword which hung at his side, and thanked him in the name of his country. He offered him a lieutenant's commission, but the young hero, who could neither read nor write, modestly refused it, saying, "I am not fit to keep officer's company; I am but a sergeant."
** Mrs. Elliot is represented as one of "the most busy among the Revolutionary women, and always active among soldiers." She was a niece of Mrs. Rebecca Motte, the patriot widow of Orangeburg, mentioned on page 683, and during the whole war was a useful co-worker with her republican husband. The wife of Charles Elliot, brother of Bernard Elliot, was also a glorious Whig. Her wit and repartee often scathed the proud feelings of the British officers, when the royal army occupied Charleston. On one occasion, Colonel Balfour was walking with her in her garden, when, pointing to a chamomile flower, he asked its name. "The rebel flower," she replied. "And why is it ealled the rebel flower?" asked the officer. "Because," replied Mrs. Elliot, "it always flourishes most when trampled upon."
Presentation of Standards.—Patriotism not sectional.—Declaration of Independence.—Fort Sullivan.
These were the standards which were afterward planted on the walls of Savannah by Bush, Hume, and Jasper. * They were afterward captured when Charleston fell, and were seen years after the war, among other British trophies, in the Tower of London. *** The Legislature of South Carolina changed the name of the fort from Sullivan to Moultrie, in honor of its brave defender; and on the twentieth of July,1776 the Continental Congress passed a resolution of thanks to General Lee, Colonels Moultrie and Thomson, and the officers and men under their command. ***
For three years after the repulse of the British from Charleston, South Carolina enjoyed comparative quiet while the war was raging at the North.
Yet her sons were not idle listeners to the roar of cannons in New England, New York, and Pennsylvania, but flocked thither in hundreds, under brave leaders, to do battle for their common country. The patriots of that war were not divided by sectional interests. There was no line of demarkation over which men hesitated to pass. A desire for the happiness of the New England people was a twin sentiment with love for his own fireside, in the heart of the Carolinian and Georgian; and the bosom of the "Green Mountain Boy" heaved as strongly with emotions of joy when a blow for freedom was successfully dealt among the rice lands of the South, as when the shout of victory went up from the heights of Saratoga.
Upon the western frontiers of the South, the Indians, stirred up by Tory emissaries, gave the people some trouble; but from the day when the Declaration of Independence was read at Liberty Tree, **** until the opening of the campaign of 1779, the people of Charleston continued in quiet pursuit of lucrative commerce. Yet prosperity did not stifle aspirations for freedom, nor the accumulation of riches cause hesitation when danger drew nigh and demanded sacrifices. The spirit of liberty burned with a light as steady and eternal as the polar star, even amid the clouds and darkness of intensest sufferings which ensued.