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[313] its carriage down into the parade ground. He turned to Captain Harleston immediately, saluted, and said coolly, “Missing your honor.” “Who is missing?” asked Captain Harleston, inspecting his company closely. “A ten-inch Columbiad, if you please, sir.”

This joke excited much merriment among the men, for a ten-inch Columbiad is of such a size and of so great weight, that it would be almost as easy to lose a church steeple as a gun of this caliber.

The famous old Brooke cannon was the only piece of ordnance left by the United States authorities at the Charleston Arsenal, when they turned it over to Mr. Porter, about two years ago, for his fine school. There it lies rusting away in the grass. The boys play “tag” against the wheels, and climb upon the old war-dog to con over their lessons, quite unconscious that the hoarse voice that bayed from that iron muzzle reverberated far and near over the land, and helped to accomplish a feat of world-wide fame.

The fighting for Charleston, which was to continue almost to the close of the war, began again on the 10th of July, 1863, at Battery Mitchel, on Morris Island, (manned by the Regulars of the First Regiment.) Battery Wagner was heavily assaulted again and again that same night by the Union forces, who were driven back with great slaughter; a detachment from the First Regiment doing good service there, too; and, during the continuous struggle that ensued for the possession of Morris Island, companies from the First Regiment were constantly on duty at Batteries Wagner and Gregg, handling the guns with marked zeal and great accuracy of aim.

When an artillery officer was asked for to remount the cannon that had been dismounted by the firing of the enemy, Captain Harleston was selected for the dangerous and difficult task, as especially fitted for the duty; and he accomplished it successfully in spite of the incessant shelling under which the work had to be executed.

After the Federals became masters of Morris Island, Fort Sumter was once more attacked, by the fleet, and also by the enormous guns that they mounted on the batteries of Morris Island, and it was soon battered to a mass of ruins under their cross fire; for it was not built to withstand the ordnance used in modern days. Each of the huge shells thrown at her, crashed though the walls as though they were made of paste board.

The regulars got no rest night or day, and every moment their lives were in jeopardy; for besides the danger from the enemy, they were in imminent peril from the great store of powder (131,000. pounds,) and the loaded shells, in their magazine. Had a single spark entered

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