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 shell against any treaty of peace with armed rebellion, in the shape of an immense pile of debris,--broken brick and glass, and charred timbers, the ruins of a once fine and imposing structure. I was told of an estimable lady of Charleston who, after investing her all (fully $5,000) in these Confederate "promises to pay," brought them out at last, and kindled her morning fire with the worthless chaff. Most of the citizens who were considered wealthy at the beginning of the war were reduced to penury at its close, and were to be seen carrying their rations through the streets of Charleston.