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Text for Page 183 [12-24-1860]

              167
	        At Charleston.

[newspaper clipping continued: first column]
ton architecture is universally prone,) have given
these old mansions a hybrid character curious to
contemplate.  It is as though Sir Charles Grandison
were offering his arm to a Mexican donna, the Spec-
tator coquetting with a lady out of Gil Blas.  Steep
pediments, columns of bastard-classic order and
elaborately-formal windows alternate with jalousie
blinds, Moresco arches, suggestions from Seville
and bits of the Alhambra, affording a sort of tran-
sition to the directly Spanish-American houses,
some of which might have been transported bodily,
like the Chapel of Loretto, from New Granada.  As, 
in Charleston each private house of any pretensions
generally differs from its neighbors, you may be-
hold in one street or row an English country
mansion of the time of George I., a sea-side villa, a
Spanish-Mexican house and a trim, white, wooden
American one, the last of which run to classicality
and increase in numbers and newness on the out-
skirts.  In the city some of these are very hand-
some and surrounded by ample pleasure grounds.
They seem to endeavor to look as old as possible, as
if in deference to its prevailing air of antiquity.
  Down-town (we go thither to business, as in New
York) the situation and general disposition of
which, as you have been pretty frequently informed
of late, Charleston resembles.  The river-side
streets, lanes and wharves are not unlike those of
the �quaint old-fashioned quiet town of Newport,�
though a trifle dingier.  I have an English book,
�imprinted� just after the great fire of London, and
illustrated with engravings on copper, the houses
in which were immediately suggested to my mind
by some adjacent to the Cooper river, not far from
the Battery, in Charleston; which Battery, a
pretty place (neither a dirt-pie on a large scale, nor
a civic dumping-ground), with its trees, posts and
esplanade, I pronounce also, on pictorial authority,
very much akin to the Marine Parade of some 
English sea-side watering-place.  The houses on
one side of it, by-the-by, are good examples of

[newspaper clipping continued: second column]
Charleston privacy and individuality; I doubt if
one of them is of the same fashion, or stands upon
the same line or angle.
  East Bay, with its brown or brick stores, its occa-
sional tiled roofs, its wagons, bales, boxes and bar-
rels, (the latter signs of business now, alas! la-
mentably few,) its river-side laborers and negro
carmen, its wholesale smells, glimpses of shipping
and cobble-stoned alleys, reminds one in many 
respects of a parallel locality in New York.  Though
in the latter city Broad street cannot, I believe, 
boast of a bank after the model of a Doric temple,
nor one next door to it resembling a miniature
Moorish palace.
  Turning upwards from East Bay into the quiet
and shabby side streets, I may mention, for the sake
of its peculiarity, a rather startling sign or combi-
nation of them, originated by an ingenious manu-
facturer in iron.  It resembles a general stampede
of articles, both offensive, allegorical and utilitarian,
in the direction of over the way, by means of a fire-
escape.  A brightly-gilt cannon is foremost, an
American Eagle with pendant steamers next, a
combination of an anvil and a ship third, followed
by a confusion of wheels, a coffee-mill and a Pal-
metto branch!  Not far from this, in an adjacent
street, I saw another sign with the inscription,
�Slaves for sale here.�
  Broad street (like Broadway, scarcely worthy of
its title), with a battered Custom-house and Post-
office at one end, and inclining to the patrician at
the other, exhibits a plentiful variety of different 
colored and fashioned houses.  I think I observed
one of every tint, including bright blue.  Here,
down-town, are the banks, the public offices, the
latter always more or less of the Queen-Annish
order.  Let me state, too, that Charleston has hand-
somer, costlier and more permanent looking 
churches than any city of a similar size on this side
of the Atlantic.

[Gunn�s diary continued]
almost entirely about McElrath�s resuming
the �Century,� getting it for nothing from Gib-
bons and about Stockton finding employment
thereon, to the dissatisfaction of Stedman who
was greedy of having his finger in the pie.     Af-
ter half an hour at the Consulate went to the
�Courier� office and there, in a little front room
on the second floor (American) with which I became               
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