Great Events in the History of North and South America

by Charles A. Goodrich

With this fresh supply of ammunition, the fire, which had been relaxed, was redoubled. The British were astounded. They had congratulated themselves, upon the partial suspension of firing, that the fort was about to yield. But the new fury of the firing, on the part of the Americans, soon served to convince them of their error. They also redoubled their efforts, and, for a time, the contest was more terrible than ever. "Once," it is said, "the broadsides of four vessels exploded together, and when the balls struck the fort, it trembled in every timber and throughout its entire extent, and shook as if about to fall in pieces."

The day was now wearing away, and still the contest was undecided. The British, reluctant to relinquish an object which in the morning they imagined so easily won, still continued the heavy cannonade; while the Americans, gathering strength and courage by what they had already accomplished, stood firm and undaunted. At length, the sun went down behind the distant shore, and darkness threw its ample folds on every object of nature. But now, through the darkness, flames shot forth and thunders rolled, presenting a scene of solemn and indescribable grandeur. The inhabitants of Charleston still lingered on their watchtowers, gazing out through the gloom towards the spot where the battle was still raging in its fiercest intensity.

But they were not destined to hope and pray in vain. At about half-past nine, the fire from the English fleet suddenly ceased. They had fought long—fought with all the ardor and enthusiasm of friends to their king and his cause. But they had fought in vain. Victory decided for Moultrie and his patriot band, and it only remained for the English to withdraw, as well as they were able, their ships, which had been nearly disabled, and their crews, which had been dreadfully reduced.

"The loss of the Americans, in this gallant action," says the writer whom we have already quoted, "was slight, amounting to only thirty-six, both killed and wounded, while that of the British, according to their own accounts, was a hundred and sixty. Double the number would probably be nearer the truth. The commander had his arm carried away. One is surprised that so few of the garrison were killed, when it is remembered that nearly ten thousand shots and shells were fired by the enemy that day. The Acteon, during the action, went aground, and the next morning a few shots were fired at her, when a party was sent to take possession of her. The crew, however, setting fire to her, pushed off. When the Americans got on board, they turned two or three of the guns on the fugitives, but, finding the flames approaching the magazine, abandoned the vessel. For a short time, she stood a noble spectacle, with her tall masts wreathed in flame, and black hull crackling and blazing below. But when the fire reached the powder, there suddenly shot up a huge column of smoke, spreading like a tree at the top, under the pressure of the atmosphere—and then the ill-fated vessel lifted heavily from the water, and fell back in fragments, with an explosion that was heard for miles around."

A few days following the battle, the fort was visited by Governor Rutledge and many of the distinguished ladies and gentlemen of Charleston. They came to see the old "slaughter-pen," which had so nobly withstood the attack under such long-practiced and accomplished officers as Parker, Clinton, and Cornwallis. Ample praises were bestowed upon the "rough-and-ready" soldiers, while mutual congratulations were exchanged with Moultrie and his brave associates in command. Nor was the gallant Jasper forgotten. Taking from his side his sword, Governor Rutledge buckled it on the daring soldier, as a reward for his noble exploit. Following this, the accomplished Mrs. Elliot presented a pair of elegant colors to the regiment under Moultrie and Motte, with the following brief, but beautiful address: "The gallant behavior in defence of liberty and your country, entitle you to the highest honor; accept, then, two standards, as a reward justly due to your regiment; and I make not the least doubt, under Heaven's protection, you will stand by them as long as they can wave in the air of liberty."

The colors thus presented to Colonel Moultrie were, at a subsequent date, carried by him to Savannah, and were displayed during the assault against that place. Two officers were killed, while attempting to place them upon the enemy's parapet at the Spring-hill redoubt. Just before the retreat, Jasper, while endeavoring to rëplace them upon the works, received a mortal wound. When a retreat was ordered, he recollected the honorable condition upon which the donor presented them to his regiment, and among the last acts of his life, he succeeded in bringing them off.

To Major Horry, who called to see him a little while before his death, he said: "Major, I have got my furlough. That sword was presented to me by Governor Rutledge, for my services in defence of Fort Moultrie; give it to my father, and tell him I have worn it with honor. If he should weep, tell him his son died in hope of a better life. Tell Mrs. Elliot that I lost my life supporting the colors which she presented to our regiment."

Such was the affair at Fort Moultrie—such the patriotic and chivalrous conduct of men fighting for their altars, their homes, their wives, their children. Was it strange that, in a good cause, Heaven should smile on such high and heroic conduct? Was it strange that a people, so intent on the enjoyment of their just rights, should accomplish their object?

This repulse of the British, it may be added, was unexpected to them; and the more so, as they well knew that no systematic measure of defence had been adopted at the South. The contest had hitherto been in a different quarter, and no intimations had transpired of a contemplated change. In addition to this, the British were profoundly ignorant of the true southern character. They had learned some lessons in regard to the "Yankees;" and, especially, that if they were made of "stuff," it was "stern stuff;" but they had yet to learn, that the same kind of ore abounded south of the Potomac. The old "slaughter-pen" on Sullivan's Island, enlightened them, and impressed them as to the fact so fully, that the influence of the lesson lasted for two years and a half—that being the respite of the Southern states from the calamities of war, consequent upon the repulse of the British at Fort Moultrie.