Charleston Mercury, October 16, 1862. An account is given of the "christening" of the ladies' gunboat at Marsh's Wharf, Charleston. Mr. Richard Yeadon was the orator of the occasion. The young lady who had been the first contributor had the honor of breaking the bottle of wine. Capt. D. N. Ingraham received the orator and others on board the vessel. Capt. Rutledge, C. S. N., who was to command the boat, was present, with other officers. General Beauregard and staff, and General Gist and staff, were also present. Mr. Yeadon addressed the officers, and made a separate address to the "matrons and maids" who had raised the $30,000 necessary. Prayers were made by the Rev. Thomas Smyth and the Rev. Christopher P. Gadsden. Marsh & Sons are spoken of as the builders of the boat. During the ceremony, the gunboat "Chicora" came up and saluted, with her builder, James M. Eason, on deck. Charleston Mercury, October 17, 1862. Mrs. D. R., living at the southeast corner of Cannon and Rutledge streets, gives, to be raffled for the benefit of soldiers, a collection of plants which she has been gathering for seven years. There are five hundred plants-japonicas, geraniums, roses, etc. We see an acknowledgement from the Commissioners of the State Marine Battery of $3,579.56, sent by ladies of Columbia to aid in building the gunboat "Chicora." Ladies thus apparently helped with two gunboats. At this date, contributions of money were being sent on to yellow fever sufferers at Wilmington. Charleston Mercury, October 30, 1862. Dr. M. LaBorde, of Columbia, gives notice of the formation of the Central Relief Association for the Soldiers of South Carolina, through which packages may be sent to soldiers in the field. He says that he can say no word of exhortation to the women. "They are doing all they can; their devotion and patriotism is exhaustless.” This Central Association was a committee of ten gentlemen. Their depot was on Main street, Columbia. They publish at this time an earnest entreaty for carpet blankets, etc. It will interest Charlestonians to know that all through this the Ladies' Benevolent Society was carrying on its work for the sick poor. Charleston Mercury, November 2, 1862. At this date, we see the first notice of the removal of non-combatants from the City of Charleston. Provisions were beginning to be very scarce, and fuel hard to get. A committee was appointed to care for the women and children who could not get away. Charleston Mercury, November 8, 1862. A flag for the Brooks Guard is spoken of. It had been begun long before, but was delayed by want of material. Charleston Mercury, November 19, 1862. The Free Market is reported as feeding entirely the families of six hundred soldiers, but threatening to close for want of money. Subscriptions to it begin again immediately, from women as well as men. Salt is becoming very scarce. Professor Hume advises the boiling of rice and hominy in half fresh and half sea water. Mrs. Dr. Sally, of the Orangeburg Relief Association, says that as long as the war lasts they will not tire. The Ladies' Garment Society, of Charleston, continued its work for the poor. The Central Committee, through Dr. LaBorde, reports that during the three weeks of its existence it had collected $20,000, blankets, garments, etc., within Richland District. We find the following suggestions for lights: "A CONFEDERATE CANDLE. "Melt one pound of beeswax and one-quarter pound of rosin; make a wick forty yards long, of three threads of loosely spun cotton; saturate well with the mixture, and draw through the fingers, pressing closely to keep the size even; repeat till the size of a quill, then wrap round a bottle. Six inches of this, elevated, will burn fifteen minutes. Forty yards have sufficed a small family all summer for bed-room light.' 66 "A tumbler full of lard. Draw a soft, long wick through the stem part of an old steel pen; imbed the wick in the lard, with about half the pen rising above the lard. The wick can be raised when necessary by pulling it up with a pin." Charleston Mercury, November 19, 1862. Ladies of Baltimore send a cord and tassels for the Brooks Guard flag. "The Days That Are Dead." The story of the War Between the States, in all its political and martial phases, has been told and retold by abler pens than mine. Looking back to 1860, to the scenes through which I myself have passed, it is a child's point of view, perhaps, that has become engraved upon my mind; but, as that has seldom been given, I will recount to you the impressions made upon me then, which have but strengthened with my years and experience. The atmosphere of Charleston rippled and swelled with excitement all through that memorable fall. The Minute Men, who had organized on every side, made the streets gay with their uniforms, and the young girls devoted their time to manufacturing every kind of patriotic device in palmetto and silk ribbon. Military buttons were in demand, and every young woman was as defiant, as ardent, and as determined, as her brother, or her sweetheart. They were ready for all emergencies, and when the first troops were ordered down to the islands, they packed knapsacks, sewed on straps and buckles, and chattered cheerfully of all things to hide their own dread and sorrow from the older women, the mothers who were sending their all into the great unknown of the future-ready to answer whatever call their country made. The older men met and talked. Constitution, Secession, State Rights, Self-Protection, Union, Usurpation, Imposition, were words that fell upon childish ears, that soon learned to understand their full import. Mottoes were flung to the winds on hundreds of flags. "There is a point beyond which endurance ceases to be a virtue" was one that carried with it the whole gist of the occasion. The people had determined not to "endure" any longer and, as another motto said, were willing to give "Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute." The building of the harbor defenses was begun. Stevens' Iron Battery was discussed and dilated upon until every boy in town could build it in miniature, for the children had caught the fever, and all their games were based upon war and engineering. So passed the months until the winter came, with excitement ever growing, enthusiasm ever increasing. Each man knew he would reply when his State called; each woman felt she was ready to sacrifice her own heart on the altar of her country; both believed that their State was right, and had faith that a just cause must succeed. Secession became an accomplished fact; the cannon roared; the populace shouted; in mammoth lettering, the papers announced "The Union is dissolved." The Palmetto Banner hung upon the outer wall, and every man, woman and child in Carolina knew that the future was big with import, and that their fiery State stood ready for "freedom or death.” "Hurrah for the rattlesnake bold," sang the girls, and the men joined in with "Again 'tis preparing to spring," and even the children chanted, "For fearful its wrath to the foe in its path, be he President, peasant or king." Young people grew up quickly then: each week was so crowded with feeling, emotions, events. Each occurrence was so portentous that months were years. Children matured in thought and deed; fourteen-year-old boys were men, ready to bear arms; little girls were women, capable to work, to plan, to hope, fear and suffer. The night after Christmas, when Anderson, under cover of darkness and storm, stole into Fort Sumter, dishonorably, clandestinely, in flagrant violation of the promise made by his government at Washington, the glove was flung down to Carolina, and she needs must lift it or be craven in her contention for the right. Her answer to this defiance rang out when, on January 9, 1861, "Tucker" (George E.) Haynesworth, of Sumter, S. C., of the Cadet Battery, sent a ball splashing into the waves directly in front of the "Star of the West." And the world stood still and listened to the protest and assertion of our dear mother State. For miles in every direction, the noise of this cannonading was heard, and stirred one's very heart. On every plantation, anxious groups of planters' families discussed its meaning-for no man could tell what a day might bring forth. Many sent their colored boys on horseback to the city posthaste to learn the news, bidding them not to spare their animals, but to hasten, and then, imagining a thousand evils, paced with growing impatience to and fro, until hoofbeats told of the courier's return. The news meant war, to every thinking man, and every woman tried to steel her heart and nerves for all that was to come. The excitement increased. Various companies were ordered down to the islands, and the work of fortifying went on unceasingly. In the city, speeches were made from every vantage point, and each orator tried to be more eloquent, more fiery, more convincing and warlike than the last, until their audiences thrilled in response, giving back cheers and words of encouragement and determination. About this time, in the middle of Meeting street, opposite Hayne, a lofty Liberty Pole was raised, from which flew the Palmetto flag. A platform for speakers was erected at its foot, and here the crowds gathered and were harangued until they burned with excited patriotism. One of the speakers who attracted great attention, and stirred the people to fever heat by his earnest eloquence, was Sam Hammond, who had been a resident of Aiken. His speeches were admired, and his example followed. He became a lieutenant in the Richardson Guards, was in one of the first regiments that went to Virginia, and gave his life for the cause, being killed in battle near Chester, in that State. South Carolinians were not selfish in their patriotism; their blood dyed the battlefields of many States. This Liberty Pole stood, and its flag waved through all the long four years of siege and shot and shell that Charleston braved; but after the city, emptied of its defenders, capitulated on the 18th of February, the flag was hauled down, and some time between then and April 1st, the pole was removed, cut shorter and otherwise disfigured. Afterwards, the enemy raised it as a flagstaff on the Battery, from which flew the Stars and Stripes over White Point Garden. Time led on to the Battle of Fort Sumter, when the population of Charleston sought the water fronts, and men went wild with excitement and patriotism, and women prayed and wept, smiled and encouraged all at one time, waiting in agony of heart lest some dear one be the one to claim the honor of being first to lay his life down for his country. But when the two days' fight was over, when the Palmetto Stars and Bars replaced the flag which had come to mean to us oppression and wrong, when "the boys came home," and not one was missing, nor injured, then arose a very babble of exultation and thanksgiving, while sweethearts embraced without shame (for do not the brave deserve the fair?), and mothers clasped their sons, and fathers wrung their hands and felt proud of their boys, just passed through such a baptism of fire. The ladies of Charleston had made a Confederate flag, for the special and particular purpose of being hoisted over Sumter, for no one doubted our success. When the fort surrendered, Captain Ferguson, of General Beauregard's staff, and Colonels Moses and Dearing, of Governor Pickens' staff, raised, at the same moment, the national and State emblems above its ramparts-the Stars and Bars, given by the ladies, was |