ration: Robert W. Shand, Private 2d S.C. Regiment.]

[Illustration: D.H. Crawford, First Sargeant and afterwards Lieut. 2d
S.C. Regiment.]

The Confederates had abandoned the greater part of Morris' Island, and
great batteries had been erected on it by General Gillmore, with the
avowed purpose of burning the city. Some weeks before this he had
erected a battery in the marshes of the island and a special gun cast
that could throw shells five miles, the greatest range of a cannon in
that day. The gun was named the "Swamp Angel" and much was expected of
it, but it did no other execution than the killing of a few civilians
and destroying a few dwellings. The citizens were too brave and
patriotic to desert their homes as long as a soldier remained on the
islands or in the forts. The gallant defenders of Sumter, after a
month of the most terrific connonading the world had ever seen, were
still at their guns, while the fort itself was one mass of ruins,
the whole now being a huge pile of stone, brick, and masonry. Fort
Moultrie, made famous by its heroic defense of Charleston in the days
of the Revolution, and by Jasper leaping the sides of the fort and
replacing the flag over its ramparts, still floated the stars and
bars from its battlements. All around the water front of Charleston
bristled great guns, with ready and willing hands to man them. These
"worthy sons of noble sires," who had, by their unflinching courage,
sent back the British fleet, sinking and colors lowered, were now
ready to emulate their daring example--either to send the fleet of
Gillmore to the bottom, or die at their post. No wonder the people
of South Carolina felt so secure and determined when such soldiers
defended her borders.

The city guards patrolled the streets of Charleston to prevent the
soldiers from leaving their camps without permits, and between these
two branches of the service a bitter feud always existed. The
first night we were in the city some of the soldiers, on the Verbal
permission of their Captains, were taking in the city. Leaving their
arms at camp, they were caught "hors de combat," as it were, and
locked up in the city guardhouse over night. The next morning I went
to look for my absentees, and away up in the top story of the lower
station house I saw them, their heads reaching out of the "ten of
diamonds" and begging to be released. After much red tape, I had them
turned out, and this incident only added to the ill will of