r the bay,
Slowly, in all his splendors dight,
The great sun rises to behold the sight."

Turning toward the city we could easily distinguish the long line of
edifices along the Battery, their windows glittering in the yellow
sunshine. Quickly dressing, we set forth on a ramble through the
deserted metropolis. There was plenty of time, as the transports were
not to leave for Fort Sumter till ten o'clock. Vaughan and I sauntered
down East Bay street, among the crumbling and deserted warehouses, to
the Battery. This was a long and straight promenade, with stone
pavement, commanding a fine prospect of the bay and fortifications.
Here, four years before, all was activity and bustle; here the
populace assembled, and sent up their frenzied shouts as the flag of
the Republic was lowered, and the ensign of Rebellion supplanted it
for a season.

How changed the scene! The streets were deserted. The crowds were
scattered and gone forever! The silence of desolation reigned on
every hand, disturbed only by the songs of the summer birds. Not even
a newsboy assailed us with the _Mercury_ or _Courier_, containing an
account of the latest victory over the Yankees. Here, along the
Battery, were many of the finest residences, stately mansions with
broad verandas, which bore the terrible effects of the long
bombardment. Their walls were scarred and rent. The roofs were
crushed, the glass shattered, piles of rubbish and other debris
encumbered the ground, and the grass was growing in the streets. The
siege of the city had steadily and relentlessly continued for five
hundred and eighty-eight days. It was commenced on the twenty-first of
August, 1863, by the opening of the Swamp Angel Battery on Morris
Island, five miles away. On the seventh of September, Fort Wagner and
Battery Gregg were taken, and more guns were trained upon the city
(notably the water battery), compelling the evacuation of the lower
part. During the long siege not less than thirteen thousand shot and
shell were thrown into the city.

We strolled into the garden of one of the deserted mansions, which
still exhibited evidences of taste and culture, even in neglect and
decay. Borders of box lined the graveled walks and encircled beautiful
flower shrubs, or clusters of japonica, of manifold hues; the
mock-orange, the lilac and magnolia tree were blooming luxuriantly,
and grew to a remarkable height. What a contrast to the bare gardens
we had left at home, amid