The vessels containing the infant colony, which was intended to be constituted according to the Grand Model, entered the harbour of Port Royal, on the shores of which, a century before, the Huguenots had erected their fort—the early Carolina—and of which even yet, some traces remained. The country around Port Royal, like that occupied by the early New England settlers, was in a great measure depopulated of natives, partly by an epidemic, and partly by sanguinary wars among themselves; therefore but little apprehension was entertained from this quarter; besides which, the good will of the neighbouring tribes was secured by presents. Each settler was to receive 150 acres of land, and the district thus taken possession of was called Carteret County. It was soon discovered, as was to be expected, that the Grand Model was far too complex a system of government even for this settlement sent out by the proprietaries themselves; “yet, desiring to come as nigh to it as possible,” says Chalmers, “five persons were immediately elected by the freeholders, and five others chosen by the proprietaries, who were to form a grand council, and these, with the governor and twenty delegates elected by the people, composed a parliament which was invested with legislative power. Such was the government which South Carolina chose for herself, coming as nigh to the prescribed rules laid down for her as she saw convenient and fitting.” Scarcely had Sayle thus far fulfilled his office, when he fell a victim to the effects of the climate, and died. Sir John Yeamans succeeded him, and Clarendon county, in consequence, was annexed to Carteret. The same year, 1671, the settlement removed from Port Royal to the banks of the Ashley River, “for the convenience of pasturage and tillage,” and upon the neck of the peninsula then called Oyster Point, between that river and the Cooper—both thus called in honour of Shaftesbury—the foundation of CHARLESTON, destined to be the capital of the Southern States, was laid by the settlement there of a few graziers’ cabins. The situation thus chosen, though full of natural beauty—the primeval forest, as we are told, sweeping down to the river’s edge, laden with yellow jessamine, the perfume of which filled the air—was not salubrious. The place for many years indeed was considered so unhealthy during the hot months of the year, that people fled from it at that time as from the pestilence. But the clearing away of the woods, probably, and the draining of the soil, so far altered its character in this respect, that it is now rather singularly healthy than otherwise.