eight weeks subsequent, re-writing it from
an imperfect and hastily-scrawled fragmentary diary, kept
on my journey to and from and my residence
in Charleston, South Carolina. That diary
I began under the conviction that it might be
read, avoiding everything that might witness
against me, therefore it is incomplete and vir-
tually false in sentiment, especially in the earlier
part; in the latter it sins by omission. I now
propose to render it truthfully, at such leisure
as I can command.
My Expedition to Charleston, South
Carolina and What I Saw of the Rebel-
lion in Progress there.
19. Wednesday. Packing, writing letters,
doing incidentals to departure, up to 1 P. M.
A dull, overcast day, threatening snow, driz-
zling a little as I entered omnibus and rode
down town, leaving baggage at the steam boat
office and then returning to Haney�s, when I
found that he and Boweryem had proceeded to
the wharf, where I presently discovered
them, by which time the day had developed into
as dreary and disagreable one as ever travel-