under the concussions.
Higher and higher, the sun mounted to the zenith, yet still the battle
continued. The heat was excessive; but casting aside their coats, the
men breathed themselves a minute, and returned to the fight. The city
was now hidden from view, by low banks of smoke, which extending right
and left along the water, bounded the horizon on two sides. Yet the
defenders of the fort still thought of the thousands anxiously
watching them from Charleston, or of the wives and mothers, trembling
at every explosion for the lives of those they loved. One of their
number soon fell mortally wounded. Gasping and in agony, he was
carried by. "Do not give up," he had still strength to say; "you are
fighting for liberty and country." Who that heard these words could
think of surrender?

Noon came and went, yet still the awful struggle continued. Suddenly a
shot struck the flag-staff, and the banner, which had waved in that
lurid atmosphere all day, fell on the beach outside the fort. For a
moment there was a pause, as if at a presage of disaster. Then a
grenadier, the brave and immortal Serjeant Jasper, sprang upon the
parapet, leaped down to the beach, and passing along nearly the whole
front of the fort, exposed to the full fire of the enemy, deliberately
cut off the bunting from the shattered mast, called for a sponge staff
to be thrown to him, and tying the flag to this, clambered up the
ramparts and replaced the banner, amid the cheers of his companions.
Far away, in the city, there had been those who saw, through their
telescopes, the fall of that flag; and, as the news went around, a
chill of horror froze every heart, for it was thought the place had
surrendered. But soon a slight staff was seen uplifted at one of the
angles: it bore, clinging to it, something like bunting: the breeze
struck it, the bundle unrolled, it was the flag of America! Hope
danced again through every heart. Some burst into tears; some laughed
hysterically; some gave way to outcries and huzzas of delight. As the
hours wore on, however, new causes for apprehension arose. The fire of
the fort was perceived to slacken. Could it be that its brave
defenders, after such a glorious struggle, had at last given in? Again
hope yielded to doubt, almost to despair; the feeling was the more
terrible from the late exhilaration. Already, in fancy, the enemy was
seen approaching the city. Wives began trembling for their husbands,
who had rendered themselve