What I will, I will, and there's an end.
Shakspeare.
Immediately after the victory of the British at Guilford, order was given for the illumination of Charleston, South Carolina. This order, Major Garden informs us,[60] the wife of Thomas Heyward of that city refused to obey; and when an officer asked her the reason of her disobedience, she replied, "Is it possible for me, sir, to feel a spark of joy? Can I celebrate the victory of your army while my husband remains a prisoner at St. Augustine?" Enraged at her obstinacy, he told her she should illuminate. "Not a single light shall be placed, with my consent, on any occasion, in any window in the house," was her fearless reply. He then threatened to destroy her house before midnight. "You have power to destroy, sir," she said, "and seem well disposed to use it, but over my opinions you possess no control. I disregard your menaces, and resolutely declare, I will not illuminate!" As good as her word, she did not, nor was her house destroyed.
Orders were given, at another time, for an illumination on the anniversary of the battle and surrender of Charleston,[61] and Mrs. Heyward again refused to obey. The mob was so indignant as to pelt her house with brickbats; and while engaged in the mean act, a feeble and emaciated sister of Mrs. Heyward—Mrs. George A. Hall—expired! When the town major heard of this painful circumstance, he tried to apologize to Mrs. Heyward, expressing regret for the indignities and damages, and offering to repair the building. She received his personal courtesies, but refused his proffered aid in making repairs, hinting, at the same time, that it was hardly possible for the authorities, in that way, to remedy insults the offering of which their baseness had probably prompted and and which they could and should have prevented.