Famous Adventures and Prison Escapes of the Civil War | Page 2

it is the Union for which he pledged his
"life, fortune, and sacred honor" that I love, not any divided or special
section of it. So I have been reading attentively and seeking light from
foreigners and natives on all questions at issue. Living from birth in
slave countries, both foreign and American, and passing through one
slave insurrection in early childhood, the saddest and also the
pleasantest features of slavery have been familiar. If the South goes to
war for slavery, slavery is doomed in this country. To say so is like
opposing one drop to a roaring torrent.
Sunday, Dec. ----, 1860.--In this season for peace I had hoped for a lull
in the excitement, yet this day has been full of bitterness. "Come, G.,"
said Mrs. ---- at breakfast, "leave your church for to-day and come with
us to hear Dr. ---- on the situation. He will convince you." "It is good to
be convinced," I said; "I will go." The church was crowded to
suffocation with the élite of New Orleans. The preacher's text was,
"Shall we have fellowship with the stool of iniquity which frameth
mischief as a law?" ... The sermon was over at last, and then followed a
prayer.... Forever blessed be the fathers of the Episcopal Church for
giving us a fixed liturgy! When we met at dinner Mrs. F. exclaimed,
"Now, G., you heard him prove from the Bible that slavery is right and
that therefore secession is. Were you not convinced?" I said, "I was so
busy thinking how completely it proved too that Brigham Young is
right about polygamy that it quite weakened the force of the argument
for me." This raised a laugh, and covered my retreat.
Jan. 26, 1861.--The solemn boom of cannon to-day announced that the
convention have passed the ordinance of secession. We must take a reef
in our patriotism and narrow it down to State limits. Mine still sticks
out all around the borders of the State. It will be bad if New Orleans

should secede from Louisiana and set up for herself. Then indeed I
would be "cabined, cribbed, confined." The faces in the house are
jubilant to-day. Why is it so easy for them and not for me to "ring out
the old, ring in the new"? I am out of place.
Jan. 28, Monday.--Sunday has now got to be a day of special
excitement. The gentlemen save all the sensational papers to regale us
with at the late Sunday breakfast. Rob opened the battle yesterday
morning by saying to me in his most aggressive manner, "G., I believe
these are your sentiments"; and then he read aloud an article from the
"Journal des Debats" expressing in rather contemptuous terms the fact
that France will follow the policy of non-intervention. When I
answered, "Well, what do you expect? This is not their quarrel," he
raved at me, ending by a declaration that he would willingly pay my
passage to foreign parts if I would like to go. "Rob," said his father,
"keep cool; don't let that threat excite you. Cotton is king. Just wait till
they feel the pinch a little; their tone will change." I went to Trinity
Church. Some Union people who are not Episcopalians go there now
because the pastor has not so much chance to rail at the Lord when
things are not going to suit. But yesterday was a marked Sunday. The
usual prayer for the President and Congress was changed to the
"governor and people of this commonwealth and their representatives
in convention assembled."
The city was very lively and noisy this evening with rockets and lights
in honor of secession. Mrs. F., in common with the neighbors,
illuminated. We walked out to see the houses of others gleaming amid
the dark shrubbery like a fairy scene. The perfect stillness added to the
effect, while the moon rose slowly with calm splendor. We hastened
home to dress for a soirée but on the stairs Edith said, "G., first come
and help me dress Phoebe and Chloe [the negro servants]. There is a
ball to-night in aristocratic colored society. This is Chloe's first
introduction to New Orleans circles, and Henry Judson, Phoebe's
husband, gave five dollars for a ticket for her." Chloe is a recent
purchase from Georgia. We superintended their very stylish toilets, and
Edith said, "G., run into your room, please, and write a pass for Henry.
Put Mr. D.'s name to it." "Why, Henry is free," I said. "That makes no

difference; all colored people must have a pass if out late. They choose
a master for protection, and always carry his pass. Henry chose Mr. D.,
but he's lost the pass he had."

II
THE VOLUNTEERS--FORT SUMTER
Feb. 24, 1861.--The toil of the week