a cold and cheerless storm. We were now in
another zone, in the full bloom of summer. After helping ourselves to
roses in abundance, the largest I had ever seen, we passed on up the
street. Notices like the following were posted on the doors of some of
the houses: "Occupied by permission of the Provost Marshal, the owner
having taken the oath of allegiance to the United States." Similar
cards in the shop windows announced that the occupants had permission
to transact business.

A Charleston lady complained to one of our officers, saying, "_You_
treat us well enough, but _the niggers_ are _dreadful_ sassy. They
don't turn out now when you meet them; they even smoke cigars, and go
right up to a gentleman and ask him for a light!"

[Illustration]

We now began to meet contrabands of all ages and of all sizes, from
the little barefooted piccaninnies and chimney sweeps to the old,
gray-haired uncles and turbaned aunties. While all appeared bubbling
over with joy, yet they were quiet and orderly, greeting us with bows
and courtesies, and a "God bress ye! we're so powerful glad ye've
come!" Said one old negro to another, "Yer mus' try now, an' do as yer
done by, Uncle Rube." "Yeth," said Uncle Reuben, "but de fact am _dis_
chile ain't never been _done by_! Dat's where de shoe pinches!"

We took great pleasure in calling with other friends upon Colonel
Lorenzo Potter, one of the veteran Union citizens, formerly of
Providence. He had been at home only a few weeks, but his family had
remained through the long and dreary siege. Fortunately the shells
from the Union batteries had spared the home of these devoted
loyalists.

I remember a fine fig-tree in his garden, laden with fruit, and my
disappointment at finding it in a green state, "for the time of figs
was not yet." Reluctantly leaving this hospitable family, we made a
hasty tour of several public buildings and banks, which we found in a
sadly _broken_ and ravaged condition. The elaborately carved counters
and wainscoting had been reduced to fragments; the tiled floors and
frescoed walls were plowed up and ruined by exploding shells. In one
of the banks I secured a collection of both Continental and
Confederate notes, the obsolete currency of two centuries. On one of
them I read this curious endorsement: "Payable two years after a
treaty of peace between the Confederate and United States
Governments." But right before me lay the effective protest of the
Union shot and