Famous Adventures and Prison Escapes of the Civil War | Page 3

is ended. Nearly a month has
passed since I wrote here. Events have crowded upon one another. On
the 4th the cannon boomed in honor of Jefferson Davis's election, and
day before yesterday Washington's birthday was made the occasion of
another grand display and illumination, in honor of the birth of a new
nation and the breaking of that Union which he labored to cement. We
drove to the race-course to see the review of troops. A flag was
presented to the Washington Artillery by ladies. Senator Judah
Benjamin made an impassioned speech. The banner was orange satin
on one side, crimson silk on the other, the pelican and brood
embroidered in pale green and gold. Silver crossed cannon surmounted
it, orange-colored fringe surrounded it, and crimson tassels drooped
from it. It was a brilliant, unreal scene; with military bands clashing
triumphant music, elegant vehicles, high-stepping horses, and lovely
women richly appareled.
Wedding-cards have been pouring in till the contagion has reached us;
Edith will be married next Thursday. The wedding-dress is being
fashioned, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen have arrived. Edith has
requested me to be special mistress of ceremonies on Thursday evening,
and I have told this terrible little rebel, who talks nothing but blood and
thunder, yet faints at the sight of a worm, that if I fill that office no one
shall mention war or politics during the whole evening, on pain of
expulsion.
March 10, 1861.--The excitement in this house has risen to fever-heat
during the past week. The four gentlemen have each a different plan for
saving the country, and now that the bridal bouquets have faded, the

three ladies have again turned to public affairs; Lincoln's inauguration
and the story of the disguise in which he traveled to Washington is a
never-ending source of gossip. The family board being the common
forum, each gentleman as he appears first unloads his pockets of papers
from all the Southern States, and then his overflowing heart to his eager
female listeners, who in turn relate, inquire, sympathize, or cheer. If I
dare express a doubt that the path to victory will be a flowery one, eyes
flash, cheeks burn, and tongues clatter, till all are checked up suddenly
by a warning for "Order, order!" from the amiable lady presiding. Thus
we swallow politics with every meal. We take a mouthful and read a
telegram, one eye on table, the other on the paper. One must be made of
cool stuff to keep calm and collected, but I say but little. This war fever
has banished small talk. Through all the black servants move about
quietly, never seeming to notice that this is all about them.
"How can you speak so plainly before them?" I say.
"Why, what matter? They know that we shall keep the whip-handle."
April 13, 1861.--More than a month has passed since the last date here.
This afternoon I was seated on the floor covered with loveliest flowers,
arranging a floral offering for the fair, when the gentlemen arrived and
with papers bearing news of the fall of Fort Sumter, which, at her
request, I read to Mrs. F.
April 20.--The last few days have glided away in a halo of beauty. But
nobody has time or will to enjoy it. War, war! is the one idea. The
children play only with toy cannons and soldiers; the oldest inhabitant
goes by every day with his rifle to practice; the public squares are full
of companies drilling, and are now the fashionable resorts. We have
been told that it is best for women to learn how to shoot too, so as to
protect themselves when the men have all gone to battle. Every evening
after dinner we adjourn to the back lot and fire at a target with pistols.
Yesterday I dined at Uncle Ralph's. Some members of the bar were
present, and were jubilant about their brand-new Confederacy. It would
soon be the grandest government ever known. Uncle Ralph said
solemnly, "No, gentlemen; the day we seceded the star of our glory
set." The words sunk into my mind like a knell, and made me wonder at

the mind that could recognize that and yet adhere to the doctrine of
secession.
In the evening I attended a farewell gathering at a friend's whose
brothers are to leave this week for Richmond. There was music. No
minor chord was permitted.

III
TRIBULATION
April 25.--Yesterday I went with Cousin E. to have her picture taken.
The picture-galleries are doing a thriving business. Many companies
are ordered off to take possession of Fort Pickens (Florida), and all
seem to be leaving sweethearts behind them. The crowd was in high
spirits; they don't dream that any destinies will be spoiled. When I got
home Edith was reading from