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[544] nearly the whole of our picket, the detested monitors came sneaking close up to the fort, and it would have made the blood boil in the coldest hearted coward to have seen the men rush to battery to man their disabled guns. The night was very dark and foggy, and before we could see them to open, they sneaked out again and left us to surmise, as usual, as to their object. I know not what is the ultimate intention of the authorities, but you may rest assured that the fort is to be held for the present, at least until the guns are gotten out, at which we are now working hard, though only two as yet have been sent to the city. The enemy's launches come up every night to try to cut off our communication with Morris Island, but they have not succeeded yet.

The two big guns, which Mrs. Gaillard spoke of, are two Blakely (rifled) guns, imported by John Frazer & Co., one of which is meant expressly for the defense of the city of Charleston, and both of which are to be placed on the battery in the city, under charge respectively of Captains Harleston and Lesesne. They are truly two wonders, weighing each twenty-two tons, and carrying a projectile weighing seven hundred and eighty pounds. It takes a whole company to manoeuvre one gun. We know very little about them, having been shut out from the scientific world for the last two and a half years, but I hope they will prove a success.

The enemy are within three hundred yards of Wagner, but if our men act properly, I have no idea that they will take the Fort, as the remaining portion is a low, flat, wet plain, thoroughly flanked, and commanded.

Sunday Morning.—A bright Sunday morning as this is, I had hoped we would enjoy in peace, but the scoundrels are giving us bricks in reality as I write. They opened at daylight, and from appearances are likely to continue it all day. You must not judge from the tremendous blot or smear that I have just made that I am scared, though, if you should think so, probably you will not be very far wrong. How I would like to enjoy now some of the cool water, deicious breezes, and butter-milk, with which you in one of your late letters were pleased to taunt me! You and Pa seem to like to talk of the telegraph very much, but, through the goodness of your hearts, I will accuse you of making a blunder. You forgot that there was a third person concerned, and you must have thought that I was to be, or was likely to be wounded or hurt in some way. Banish any such idea from your mind, for, I assure you, you never were more mistaken. I am as well and as happy as possible. George is a

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