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 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.