The day had not begun to dawn when an aged and faithful servant tapped softly at the door of "Miss Gibbes'" apartment. The whisper "Mistress, the redcoats are
all around the house," was the first intimation of their danger. "Tell no one,
Caesar, but keep all quiet," she replied promptly, and her preparations for receiving
the intruders were instantly begun. Having dressed herself quickly she went upstairs, waked several women guests and requested them to dress with all haste. In the meantime the domestics had waked the children, of whom with her own and those under her care, there were sixteen, the eldest being only fifteen years old. Mrs. Gibbes then assisted her husband as was her custom, to rise and dress and had him placed in his rolling chair. All these arrangements were made without the least confusion and so silently that the British had no idea any one was yet awake within the house. The object of all this preparation, by the clever woman, was to prevent violence on the enemy's part, by showing them at once that the mansion was inhabited only by those who were unable to defend themselves. The impressive manner in which Mrs. Gibbes drew the curtain on her pathetic drama produced its effect even on the hardened soldiers. The invaders had no knowledge that the inmates were aware of their presence till daylight, when the heavy rolling of Mr. Gibbes' invalid chair across the great hall toward the front door was heard. Supposing the sound to be the rolling of a cannon, the soldiers advanced and stood prepared, with pointed bayonets to rush in when the signal for assault should be given.
As the door was thrown open and the stately, though helpless form of the invalid was presented, surrounded by women and children, they drew back and, startled into an involuntary expression of respect, presented arms. Mr. Gibbes addressed them, and for a moment the pathos of his words seemed to halt the intended invasion. The British officers, however, soon took possession of the house, leaving the premises to their men, and making no proviso against pillage; so the soldiers roved over the place at their pleasure, helping themselves to whatever they chose, breaking into the wineroom, drinking to intoxication and seizing upon and carrying off the negroes.
Within the mansion, the energy and self-possession of Mrs. Gibbes still protected her family. The appearance of fear or confusion might have tempted the invaders to incivility; but it was impossible for them to treat otherwise than with deference a lady whose calm, quiet deportment commanded their highest respect. Maintaining her place as mistress of the household and presiding at her table, she treated her uninvited guests with a dignified courtesy that insured civility while it prevented presumptuous familiarity. The boldest and rudest among them bowed willingly to an influence which fear or force could neither have secured.
When the news of the occupation of the Gibbes Plantation—no longer, alas! in reality "Peaceful Retreat"—by the British reached Charleston, the authorities dispatched two galleys to dislodge them. The men were given strict instructions not to fire on the house for fear of injury to any of the helpless family, but it could not be known to Mrs. Gibbes that such a caution was to be taken, and as soon as the Americans began to fire, she decided that she must seek a place of safety for her family. The horses being in the enemy's hands, they had no means of conveyance, but Mrs. Gibbes, undaunted and desperate, to secure shelter for
