“After the first shock of resistance, you recollect the States were unanimous in the cause of liberty; though the scene of war was, during the first part of the contest, confined to the Northern and middle States, and our arms were generally successful wherever valor and dexterity could supply the want of superior numbers and discipline. How did the courageous youth of South Carolina burn to join their brethren of the North in the struggle for liberty! The hot valor of young Percy, like that of his namesake of poetic fame, spurred him on to rush into the marshalled ranks, from which he could scarcely be withheld by the sober forecast of his father, who foresaw that the tide of battle was already tending towards the south.
“Information was at length received, that a British squadron had been fitted out for the reduction of Charleston; and, detained by unfavorable weather, was lying at Cape Fear. This gave the Americans time to strengthen their fortifications, so as to make an attack from the seaboard extremely difficult. In the month of June, 1776, the squadron anchored off the bar. What a moment of thrilling anxiety was this to every true American heart in the place! The land forces were commanded by Cornwallis and Clinton; the naval by Sir Peter Parker. The provincial forces were commanded by General Lee. Our young hero Percy, was honored with a lieutenancy in his army. It was some days before the British troops could disembark, owing to the impediment in crossing the bar. At length, however, they effected a landing on Long Island, and prepared for an attack. Percy's post was in the select division, placed on the main land, opposite Sullivan's island, the only successful point of attack.
“The evening before the expected battle he called at my mother's, still the spot of peculiar attraction whenever a moment of leisure allowed him the indulgence of his warmest and tenderest feelings. She candidly expressed her fears for his safety, knowing the dangerous post he would occupy, and his fearless intrepidity. She charged him to remember how many hearts would throb with deep interest for him on that eventful day, and concluded by hoping that discretion would temper his courage. He replied with restrained emotion, ‘I hope, dear madam, I am not insensible to your regard, and that of many kind friends; but there is one whose interest and sympathy I would rather win than the world besides.’ He looked towards Morna, but she was gone. He followed her retreating footsteps to her favorite alcove. ‘Morna,’ he said, assuming the manner of their childhood's freedom, ‘I have heard you say, courage should be your second requisite in a hero. I come to ask a token from you as an incentive to valor to morrow.’ ‘Would you desire a higher,’ she answered, ‘than the cause of your country? Oh, Alfred, it is not your honor or courage that is in danger, but your life.’ ‘Then give me this bright tress, which has escaped from its bondage, to remind me that you are among those who care for my safety. It will be the first and brightest charm my heart ever wore.’ Morna spoke not: how could she? But her lover read the confession of her heart in the ‘many colored Iris’ which filled her eye. You may imagine the scene that followed, when the fervor and faith of young hearts are pledged on the eve of doubtful battle. The hour of separation came, and Percy was taking his leave of her he loved best, with a countenance of hope unclouded by doubt or fear. He whispered to Morna, in going, ‘Remember the token, the talisman of protection and favor to the knight without fear and without reproach.’ ‘Noble Percy!’ exclaimed Mrs. Ashton, ‘you were never formed to wear the chain of slavery.’ Morna, too, felt proud of her lover; but in the moment of her exultation, she thought of the perils to which his life must be exposed, and the dark omen of dread dimmed the bright star of her destiny. My mother, while she evinced the warm sympathy which all the circumstances of the newly awakened feelings in her niece's bosom were calculated to inspire, endeavored to calm them by pointing to the bright side of the picture, and urging her to look forward with patient hope to the probably successful issue. But Mammy Marget, who felt, perhaps, quite as much in whatever distressed her young mistress, with the characteristic propensity of narrow-minded ignorance, sought to lay the blame of her tears on somebody, and who so probably the cause as Percy. ‘Mas Alfred, he's always so violent, he must be the most foremost of any, no place will do for him but the hottest. Why not put some of the raggamuffins, as the British calls the militia, in that dangerous place, they mean creters don't care—jist as live shoot down a clever young man like him as a dog. But, maybe this don't comfort you, Miss Morn, my pretty dove, so I won't say no more but the truth, and that is, he's as ginerous as you; for but t'other day, he ask me, Mammy Marget, how you do these hard times? I tell him, well as other folks I reckon, I only wish we had some of that good sugar and coffee that them mean English is squandering out yander, with their white sarvants to tend'm, struttin' about like peacocks in their finery. Then I see the fire in his eye, and he say, bridling up jest like him, I would not fill my mouth with any of their good things; but as it does not hurt your conscience, take this and buy some, (and he give me ever so much money,) they will be mean enough, as you say, to extort upon the penury of a poor slave. That's jist what he say, I knowed what he meant in spite of his high larnt words, and thinks I, I'll remember 'em to tell Miss Morn.’
“You recollect the entire failure of this first expedition against Charleston, owing to the inability of the land and naval forces to unite in the attack. The American batteries sustained the fire from the fleet with unmoved firmness, and Percy won laurels by his intrepidity and presence of mind. The enemy seeing it impossible, in present circumstances, to gain footing, left Charleston harbor with all their forces; and during the two succeeding years, no further attempt was made to reduce this place.
“About this time a letter came to my mother, under the British passport. It was from Colonel Ridgely from whom she had received no intelligence for ten years. It informed her, that the state of affairs in America had recently recalled his regiment from India, with the design of transporting that, and several others, to the southern colonies, to oppose the combined forces of France and America. He lamented the occasion of his visit to a land where his tenderest and most cherished hopes were centered. He spoke of the necessity to which the ministry, by their harsh and unjust exactions had reduced the American colonies, of taking up arms in self-defence. Not even Chatham's eloquence could arrest the storm, though he had predicted with a prophet's inspiration, that the final issue would be the infamy of its originators, and the everlasting degradation of England. As an officer in his majesty's service, he said honor and loyalty forbade him to withdraw from the duties imposed on him, however his own individual feelings and opinions might prompt him to retire from the combat.
“You may well conceive with what mingled emotions of hope and disappointment the bosoms of a daughter and sister were filled on reading this letter. Morna's first words were, ‘Dear aunt, shall I live to see my beloved father in the ranks of my country's enemies? No, the grave would be far preferable—can nothing avert it? O! how shall I meet Alfred? His high soul will revolt at an alliance with the daughter of his country's enemy. Write to him, dear aunt, immediately for me, and release him from every obligation.’ ‘My beloved child,’ replied she, ‘I must first chide your generous haste, which would destroy both your own and Alfred's happiness. Can you suppose he could cease to love you, or to respect your father, only because he is engaged to support a cause, which, though we esteem it unjust, every loyal subject of Britain is bound to maintain? Rather let us seek resignation and comfort from heaven, and hope that God may over-rule the purposes of man for the good of all, and the glory of his name.’ Morna yielded to the opinion of her aunt, which in her calmer moments she felt to be just, and at her request tried to compose her agitated feelings, as she laid her aching head on that bosom which was alike the sanctuary of her joys and sorrows. Her wearied senses sunk into repose, and she was unconsciously placed on the couch of rest. This was scarcely done, when a quick knock was heard at the door. Mrs. Ashton hastened to attend the summons, and prevent any interruption from sudden noise. ‘Mr. Percy!’ was her exclamation, ‘is it you? Your countenance is the omen of evil tidings—are you the herald of recent disasters?’ ‘Madam, your look tells me you are not ignorant that the enemy, having gained possession of Georgia, is marching rapidly towards our capital. I have just received a major's commission, and orders to march my company to reinforce General Lincoln; but, like the crusader of old, I come, first to visit the shrine of my tutelar saint, and bear from its altar the token of conquest and safety. May I not see Miss Ridgely?’ My mother then related the story of the recent tidings from England, and the overwhelming effect on her niece's spirits. Percy remained silent, and his brow lowered with displeasure for a moment, but his noble nature rose triumphant over the irritation of national feeling. ‘I must see her,’ he said, with deep emotion; ‘I must assure her how much I love and admire the sensibility of her filial piety.’ My mother stept softly into the chamber, and found Morna sleeping soundly, but with a flushed cheek, indicating so high a degree of excitement, that she feared the consequences of awaking her. Mammy Marget, who was watching by her, declared it would be the death of her if she saw Mr. Percy now. ‘He's always so vilent, talking about honor and death. It's hardly worth while to lose honor or life fighting with they mean English, and the runaway niggers they git to join 'em. Oh no, he'll jist set Miss Morn to crying, for she bleeves every word he tells her. He can jist leave a message, or a little keepsake, or something to show he 'ant forgot her; and that he couldn't do, neither.’
“Mammy Marget's advice was certainly wise in this case, and after much earnest debate, Percy consented to yield to prudent counsel, and with a heavy heart took his leave. In a few hours he was on his route to join General Lincoln, who kept in advance of General Prevost, whose obvious design was to reach Charleston as soon as possible. General Moultrie, stationed to oppose his passage, found his efforts ineffectual; he passed with his superior force towards the capital, while Lincoln marched rapidly towards its relief. He despached in advance of his army a chosen body of mounted infantry, commanded by our young hero Percy, to guard the passes to the city, but the little band used all their efforts in vain.
“Prevost arrived within cannon shot, and summoned the town to surrender, on the 12th of May, 1779. But being summoned, did they do it? No, Lincoln was advancing with a superior force, and the enemy dared not risk an attack, but prudently resolved to take possession of the islands of St. James and St. John, where they waited to be reinforced by the arrival of two frigates. In one of these vessels was Colonel Ridgely. His regiment was landed on Port Royal island, where they were commanded to wait further preparations to begin the attack. Colonel Ridgely's thoughts turned from the scene of military show towards his daughter, whose image, amidst all the vicissitudes of his wanderings, was still stamped in living colors on his heart. He was impelled to encounter every danger, to see her, if she still lived. A disguise was the only possible means of doing this, as all communication with the enemy was interdicted by the Americans, under the severest penalty. His ingenuity suggested the habit of an English chaplain, whose inoffensive and pious character, had gained him permission to visit some sick prisoners in the Charleston hospital. Under cover of night Ridgely passed the sentinels, with the pretence of administering to a dying prisoner the consolation of religion. When in the city, he varied the deception a little, inquiring for the residence of Mrs. Ashton, as a clergyman on holy duty bound.
“I feel that I can give you no idea of the scene that ensued, when the disguise was thrown off, and the person of Colonel Ridgely was revealed before his astonished sister. ‘My brother!’ was the exclamation, as she sunk back in her seat, paralyzed with emotion. Morna caught the electrifying words, and sprung forwards; but ere he had clasped her in his arms, the rush of feelings had overpowered her senses, and she lost in momentary insensibility the consciousness of his presence. Her recollection was soon restored. Her father's countenance was the first object that met her returning sensibility. Oh! how many long past and almost forgotten reminiscences seemed to spring up around her, as she gazed with intense delight on that still remembered smile. Her spirits rose from their depression; she lost the fear of coming evil in the endearments of a father's love, and hope dispelled the dark cloud that had seemed to lower over her.
“Colonel Ridgely's disposition was one to look on the bright side of things. He expressed his hope that there would be no further bloodshed, and that a capitulation, honorable to both sides, would restore peace to the besieged city. The dawn was almost visible, before he resumed his habit, to return. Morna's last request was, that he would not risk a life so dear, if there was the least possibility of danger or detection.