After numerous stoppages, the train at length reached Charleston.  The journey from Greensborough had been a tedious one; besides the annoyance of slow travelling, through the inefficient state of the line, which was so defective that the carriages frequently left the rails, the noisome effluvia arising from the swamps we had to pass through, which harbour innumerable alligators and other reptiles, had the most debilitating effect on the frame, which was increased by the extreme sultriness of the weather After leaving my ticket at the terminus, I disposed of my baggage by hiring a negro to carry it to my boarding-house, and slowly wended my way into the city.  A spacious public square at the end of King-street, through which I had to pass to my table d’hote, presented an animated view, the citizens being assembled to celebrate the anniversary of the Independence conferred by Washington and his compatriots by the solemn declaration of the 4th July, 1776.  Long tables, under gay awnings, to shield the company from the burning rays of the sun, which at the time were intense, groaned with every luxury the climate afforded; but the banquet was not furnished by this alone, for Cuba and some of the neighbouring islands, it was stated, had been ransacked for delicacies.  Crowds of elegantly-dressed ladies (in general of very sallow look and languid air) and spirit-like children, with swarthy-looking men, many of whose visages bore evident traces of exposure to the ill effects of the climate and of dissipation, crowded the festive board.  The negro attendants in dozens moved about with automatic order, as is characteristic of all the race on such occasions, for the negro is a “model waiter” at a banquet.  Their snowy costumes contrasting strongly with their black visages and the jovial scene around.  The merry peals of laughter, as some unlucky wight upset a dish, or scattered the sauce in everybody’s face within reach, indicated lightness of heart, and merriment and conviviality seemed the order of the day.

The imposing scene before me, after a long absence from social meetings in civilized life, was very cheering, and, had it not been for the inertia I felt at the time, arising from a fatiguing journey and the tertian ague, I should have felt disposed to participate in the day’s enjoyment.  Other considerations might, however, have prevented this:  I was a stranger to all around, and knew that I should be either subjected to impertinent interrogations, or become the object of invidious remark—­this, in my debilitated state of health, I felt anxious to avoid, as calculated to impede my restoration.  My joining the assembled party might also have involved the chance of surveillance during my stay, which, before my departure for Europe, I intended should be rather protracted.  I may have been mistaken in this view, but, from the character I had heard of the place, I felt justified in giving way to the suspicion.