“Indeed, the enthusiasm of our troops, with Sherman as a leader, has known no bounds. They felt themselves invincible, and have laughed at obstacles. Sixty or seventy thousand troops is a large force for such operations, but larger ones have miserably failed. It is large enough, however, when directed by genius and inspired by enthusiasm. On the other hand, the enemy has fled from Sherman’s path as from that of a pestilence. His troops feel that there is little use in opposing our columns, and go as quickly as possible to the rear. The unprejudiced topographer, speculating upon the probable location of that mysterious region, ‘the last ditch,’ would hitherto have assigned it to South Carolina. But the ‘great flanker’ has, in fact, flanked that famous ditch, and it has been evacuated through fear of enfilading. Day after day, the theatrical bills of the Confederacy announce ‘one more and positively the very last ditch;’ and still the comedy is played. Branchville, Columbia, and Charleston fell, but we see no Derry, no Saragossa, no Puebla, in their defence. Lame and impotent conclusion indeed from such bravado of prologue! The chance of becoming the sepulchre of the Confederacy will be taken from South Carolina.” But let us walk over Charleston after its occupation by our troops. The flames shoot up on every hand, and the firemen rush to the centres of conflagration. Thousands of bales of cotton and many buildings are consumed, amid the frantic distress of the people, who are principally the poorer classes, left in the wake of retreat. The depot of the Northeastern Railroad became the arena of new horrors.