The wife of Charles Elliott, of Charleston, South Carolina, was one of those dames of Seventy-six who "appeared to concentrate every thought and every hour of existence to the interests of America." She cheered the prisoner, befriended the unjustly persecuted, comforted the sick, fed the hungry, and was humane alike to enemies and friends. Major Garden has paid her the following compliment: "I do not know an officer who did not owe to her some essential increase of comfort."

A British officer, whose cruel and persecuting disposition was well known to Mrs. Elliott, was walking with her in a flower garden one day, when, pointing to the chamomile he asked, "What is this, madam?" She at once replied, "The rebel flower." "And why," asked he, "is it called the rebel flower?" "Because," answered she, "it always flourishes most when trampled upon."

At another time, while an officer of the royal army was in her house at Charleston, a French officer, belonging to Pulaski's legion, passed; and pointing to him, he vociferated, "There, Mrs. Elliott, is one of your illustrious allies. What a pity the hero is minus his sword." The spirit of the woman was roused, and she replied, "Had two thousand such men been here to aid in the defence of our city, I should not at this moment, sir, have been subjected to the insolence of your observation."

When her father, the brave and zealous patriot, Thomas Ferguson, was put on board a transport ship at Charleston, preparatory to exile, she hastened from the country, where she chanced to be, and begged permission to receive his parting blessing. Her request being granted, she went on board the ship. Just as she entered the cabin, she was overcome with grief, and fainted. When recovered, she addressed her father as follows: "Let not oppression shake your fortitude, nor the hope of gentler treatment cause you for a moment to swerve from strict duty. Better times are in store for us: the bravery of the Americans, and the friendly aid of France, will achieve the deliverance of our country from oppression. We shall meet again, my father, and meet with joy."[59]