Strange True Stories of Louisiana
Page 47
II.
THE VOLUNTEERS.--FORT SUMTER.
_Feb. 24, 1861_.--The toil of the week has ended. Nearly a month haspassed since I wrote here. Events have crowded upon one another. Alowering sky closes in upon the gloomy evening, and a moaning wind issobbing in every key. They seem in keeping with the national sorrow, andin lieu of other sympathy I am glad to have that of Nature to-night. Onthe 4th the cannon boomed in honor of Jefferson Davis's election, and daybefore yesterday Washington's Birthday was made the occasion of anothergrand display and illumination, in honor of the birth of a new nationand the breaking of that Union which he labored to cement. We droveto the racecourse to see the review of troops. A flag was presentedto the Washington Artillery by ladies. Senator Judah Benjamin made animpassioned speech. The banner was orange satin on one side, crimsonsilk on the other, the pelican and brood embroidered in pale greenand gold. Silver crossed cannon surmounted it, orange-colored fringesurrounded it, and crimson tassels drooped from it. It was a brilliant,unreal scene; with military bands clashing triumphant music, elegantvehicles, 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 beingfashioned, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen have arrived. Edith hasrequested me to be special mistress of ceremonies on Thursday evening, andI have told this terrible little rebel, who talks nothing but blood andthunder, yet faints at the sight of a worm, that if I fill that office noone shall mention war or politics during the whole evening, on pain ofexpulsion. The clock points to ten. I must lay the pen aside.
_March 10, 1861._--The excitement in this house has risen to fever heatduring the past week. The four gentlemen have each a different plan forsaving the country, and now that the bridal bouquets have faded, the threeladies have again turned to public affairs; Lincoln's inauguration and thestory of the disguise in which he traveled to Washington is a never-endingsource of gossip. The family board being the common forum, each gentlemanas he appears first unloads his pockets of papers from all the SouthernStates, and then his overflowing heart to his eager female listeners, whoin turn relate, inquire, sympathize, or cheer. If I dare express a doubtthat 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 rap for"Order, order!" from the amiable lady presiding. Thus we swallow politicswith 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 andcollected. I say but little. There is one great comfort; this war feverhas banished small talk. The black servants move about quietly, neverseeming 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 (andwith papers bearing the news of the fall of Fort Sumter, which, at herrequest, I read to Mrs. F.).
_April 20._--The last few days have glided away in a halo of beauty. Ican't remember such a lovely spring ever before. But nobody has time orwill to enjoy it. War, war! is the one idea. The children play only withtoy cannons and soldiers; the oldest inhabitant goes by every day with hisrifle to practice; the public squares are full of companies drilling, andare now the fashionable resorts. We have been told that it is best forwomen to learn how to shoot too, so as to protect themselves when the menhave all gone to battle. Every evening after dinner we adjourn to the backlot and fire at a target with pistols.
Yesterday I dined at Uncle Ralph's. Some members of the bar were presentand were jubilant about their brand-new Confederacy. It would soon be thegrandest government ever known. Uncle Ralph said solemnly, "No, gentlemen;the day we seceded the star of our glory set." The words sunk into my mindlike a knell, and made me wonder at the mind that could recognize thatand yet adhere to the doctrine of secession.
In the evening I attended a farewell gathering at a friend's whosebrothers are to leave this week for Richmond. There was music. No minorchord was permitted.