THE PALMETTO FLAG
When Sylvia had told Estralla to come to her room that night, she had
determined to find a way to get the little negro to a place of safety.
Sylvia did not know that a negro was, in those far-off days, the
property of his master as much as a horse or a dog, and that wherever
the negro might go his master could claim him and punish him for trying
to escape. Any person aiding a slave to escape could also be punished
by law.
All Sylvia thought of was to have Estralla protected, and she was quite
sure that a United States fort could protect one little negro girl.
Nevertheless she was troubled and worried as to how she could carry out
her plan; but she resolved not to tell Grace.
As usual Flora was waiting at Miss Patten's gate for her friends. She
was wearing a pretty turban hat, and pinned in front was a fine blue
cockade, to which Flora pointed and said: "Look, girls. This is the
Secession Cockade. Ralph gave it to me," she explained; "all loyal
Carolinians ought to wear it, Ralph says."
"What does it mean to wear one?" asked Sylvia.
"Oh, it means that you believe South Carolina has a right to keep its
slaves, and sell them, of course; and if the United States interferes,
why, Carolinians will teach them a lesson," Flora explained grandly,
repeating the explanation her father had given her that very morning.
Many of the other girls wore blue cockades, and a palmetto flag was
hung behind Miss Rosalie's desk.
"Young ladies," said Miss Rosalie, "I have hung South Carolina's flag
where you can all see it. You all know that a flag is an emblem. Our
flag means the glory of our past and the hope of the future. I will ask
you all to rise and salute this flag!"
The little girls all stood, and each raised her right hand. All but
Sylvia. Flushed and unhappy, with downcast eyes, she kept her seat.
This was not the "Stars and Stripes," the flag she had been taught to
love and honor. She knew that the palmetto flag stood for slavery.
Sylvia did not know what Miss Rosalie would say to her, and, even worse
than her teacher's disapproval, she was sure that her schoolmates,
perhaps even Grace and Flora, would dislike and blame her for not
saluting their flag.
But she was soon to realize just how serious was her failure to salute
the palmetto flag. Miss Rosalie came down the aisle and laid a note on
Sylvia's desk.
It was very brief: "You may go home at recess. Take your books and go
quietly without a word to any of the other pupils. You may tell your
parents that I do not care to have you as a pupil for another day."
As Sylvia read these words the tears sprang to her eyes. It was all she
could do not to sob aloud. She dared not look at the other girls. She
held a book before her face, and only hoped that she could keep back
the tears until recess-time.
But not for a moment did Sylvia wish that she had saluted a flag which
stood for the protection of slavery. Miss Rosalie had said that a flag
was an "emblem," and even in her unhappiness Sylvia knew that the
emblem of the United States stood for justice and liberty.
When the hour of recess came Sylvia had her books neatly strapped, and,
as Miss Rosalie had directed, she left the room quietly without one
word to any of the other girls. She had nearly reached the gate when
she heard steps close behind her and Grace's voice calling: "Sylvia,
Sylvia, dear," and Grace's arm was about her. "It's a mean shame,"
declared the warm-hearted little southern girl, "and flag or no flag,
I'm your true friend."
"Grace! Grace!" called Miss Rosalie, and before Sylvia could respond
her loyal playmate had turned obediently back to the house.
Sylvia stepped out on the street, her eyes a little blurred by tears,
but greatly comforted by Grace's assuring words of friendship.
She did not want to go home and tell her mother what had happened, and
show her Miss Patten's note, for she knew that her mother would be
troubled and unhappy.
Suddenly she decided to go to her father's warehouse and tell him, and
go home with him at noon. She was sure her father would think she had
done right.
She turned and walked quickly down King Street, and in a short time she
was near the wharves and could see the long building where her father
stored the cotton he purchased from the planters. The wharves were
piled high with boxes and bales, and there were small boats coming in
to the wharves, and others making ready to depart.
Sylvia could see her father's boat close to the wharf near the
warehouse. "I wish I could take that boat and carry Estralla off to
Fort Sumter," she thought.
A good-natured negro led her to Mr. Fulton's office, and before her
father could say a word Sylvia was in the midst of her story. She told
of the blue cockades that the other girls wore, of the palmetto flag,
and of her failure to salute it, and handed him Miss Patten's note.
Mr. Fulton looked serious and troubled as he listened to his little
girl's story. Then he lifted her to his knee, took off her pretty hat,
and said:
"Too bad, dear child! But you did right. A little Yankee girl must be
loyal to the Stars and Stripes. I am glad you came and told me."
For a moment it seemed to Sylvia that her father had forgotten all
about her. He was looking straight out of the window.
While he had not forgotten his little girl he was thinking that
Charleston people must be quite ready to take the serious step of
urging their State to declare her secession from the United States, and
her right to buy and sell human beings as slaves.
He wished that the United States officers at Fort Moultrie could
realize that at any time Charleston men might seize Fort Sumter, where
there were but few soldiers, and he said aloud: "I ought to warn them."
Sylvia wondered for a moment what her father could mean, but he said
quickly: "Jump down and put on your hat. I'm going to sail down to Fort
Moultrie and have a talk with my good friends there, and you can come
with me."
At this good news Sylvia forgot all her troubles. A sail across the
harbor with her father was the most delightful thing that she could
imagine. And she held fast to his hand, smiling happily, as they walked
down the wharf where the boat was fastened.
Mr. Fulton was beginning to find his position as a northern man in
Charleston rather uncomfortable. Many of his southern friends firmly
believed that the northern men had no right to tell them that slavery
was wrong and must cease. He wished to protect his business interests,
or he would have returned to Boston; for it was difficult for him not
to declare his own patriotic feeling that Abraham Lincoln, who had just
been elected President of the United States, would never permit slavery
to continue.
Mr. Fulton sent a darky with a message to Sylvia's mother that he was
taking the little girl for a sail to the forts, and in a short time
they were on board the Butterfly, as Sylvia had named the white sloop,
and were going swiftly down the harbor.
"May I steer?" asked Sylvia, and Mr. Fulton smilingly agreed. He was
very proud of his little daughter's ability to sail a boat, and
although he watched her shape the boat's course, and was ready to give
her any needed assistance, he was sure that he could trust her.
As they sailed past Fort Sumter Sylvia could see men at work repairing
the fortifications. Over both forts waved the Stars and Stripes.
She made a skilful landing at Fort Moultrie, greatly to the admiration
of the sentry on guard. Mr. Fulton and Sylvia went directly to the
officer's quarters, which were in the rear of the fort, and where Mrs.
Carleton gave Sylvia a warm welcome. She asked the little girl about
her school and Sylvia told her what had happened that morning.
"I am not surprised," said Captain Carleton. "I expect any day that
Charleston men will take Fort Sumter, and fly the palmetto flag,
instead of the Stars and Stripes. If Major Anderson had his way we
would have a stronger force in Fort Sumter, and that is greatly needed."
Major Anderson was the officer in command at Fort Moultrie. He was a
southern man, but a true and loyal officer of the United States.
When Captain Carleton and Mr. Fulton went out Mrs. Carleton asked
Sylvia if she was sorry to leave the school, and if she liked her
schoolmates. Sylvia was eager to tell her of all the good times she had
enjoyed with Grace and Flora, and declared that they were her true
friends. Then she told Mrs. Carleton about Estralla, and of her resolve
that the little darky girl should not be separated from Aunt Connie.
"Your best plan, then, will be to go and see Mr. Robert Waite and ask
him. He is a kind-hearted man, and perhaps he will promise you to let
the child stay with her mother. I hope it will not be long now before
all the slaves will be set free," said Mrs. Carleton.
Before Sylvia could respond Captain Carleton came hurrying into the
room. He had a letter in his hand, and asked Sylvia to excuse Mrs.
Carleton for a moment, and they left the room together. In a few
moments Mrs. Carleton returned alone, and Sylvia heard Captain Carleton
say: "It is worth trying."
"My dear Sylvia, I want you to do something for me; it is not really
for me," she added quickly, "it is for the United States. Something to
help keep the flag flying over these forts."
"Oh, can I do something like that?" Sylvia asked eagerly.
"Yes, my dear. Now, listen carefully. Here is a letter which Major
Anderson wants delivered to a gentleman who will start for Washington
to-morrow. If anyone from this fort should be seen visiting that
gentleman he would not be allowed to leave Charleston as he plans. If
your father, even, should call upon him it would create suspicion. So I
am going to ask you to carry this letter to the address written on the
envelope, and you must give it into his own hands to-night. Not even
your own father will know that you have this letter; so if he should be
questioned or watched he will be able to deny knowing of its existence.
Are you willing to undertake it?"
"Yes! Yes!" promised Sylvia. "I will carry it safely. The gentleman
shall have the letter to-night," and she reached out her hand to take
it.
But Mrs. Carleton shook her head. "No, my dear, I will pin it safely
inside your dress. It would not do for you to be seen leaving the fort
with a letter in your hand."