the anguish of the victim for one-half hour, his
conscience would have smote him to his grave.
But all is well that ends well. His wife failed to reach him in
time, so he wore the faded and tattered garments, as momentous of
the Valley, through all the tangled swamps and morasses of the
Saltkahatchie, the Edisto, and the Santee with as much pride as if
clothed in the finest robes of a king.
We remained at Branchville for several days, and from thence we were
transported by rail to Charleston and took up quarters on the "Mall."
The citizens hailed us with delight and treated us with the greatest
hospitality. The greater number of the best-to-do citizens had left
the city, and all that lived on the bay and in reach of the enemies
guns had moved to safer quarters in the city or refugeed in the up
country. But every house stood open to us. Flags and handkerchiefs
waved from the windows and housetops, and all was bustle and
commotion, notwithstanding the continual booming of cannon at Sumter
and on Sullivan's Island. Every minute or two a shell would go
whizzing overhead or crashing through the brick walls of the
buildings. Soldiers were parading the streets, citizens going about
their business, while all the little stores and shops were in full
blast, the same as if the "Swamp Angel" was not sending continually
shells into the city. The people had become accustomed to it and paid
little attention to the flying shells.
On one occasion, while a bridal ceremony was being performed in one
of the palatial residences in the city, the room filled with happy
guests, a shell came crashing into the apartment, bursting among the
happy bridal party, killing one of the principals and wounding several
of the guests.
While I and several other officers were eating breakfast at one of the
hotels, a great noise was heard in the upper portion of the building,
giving quite a shock to all. Someone asked the colored waiter, "What
was that noise?" "Only a shell bursting in one of the upper rooms,"
was the reply.
Women and children walked leisurely to market or about their daily
vocations, the shells roaring overhead, with no more excitement or
concern than had it only been a fourth of July celebration.
Even the negroes, usually so timid and excitable, paid but momentary
attention to the dangers.
[Illustration: Lieut. Col. F.S. Lewie, Co. H, 8th S.C. Regiment.]
[Illustration: Capt. Duncan McIntyre, 15th S.C. Regiment.]
[Illust
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