An immense crowd serenaded President Davis and Mr. Walker, Secretary of War, at the Exchange Hotel to-night. The former was not well, and did not appear. Secretary Walker, in a few words of electrical eloquence, told the news from Fort Sumter, declaring, in conclusion, that before many hours the flag of the Confederacy would float over that fortress. No man, he said, could tell where the war this day commenced would end, but he would prophesy that the flag which here streams to the breeze would float over the dome of the old Capitol at Washington before the first of May. Let them test Southern courage and resources, and it might float eventually over Faneuil Hall itself.
An officer from General Bragg's camp informed me that all preparations for capturing Fort Pickens were made, the United States sentinels on duty upon a certain night being bribed; but that "Nemo's" intimation of the intended attack frustrated it, a copy of his letter having found its way into the post, and forewarned and forearmed the commander.
Everybody was looking anxiously for news from the North. The predictions of certain New York papers, that the northern people would inaugurate war at home if the Government attempted "coercion," were received with entire credulity, and frequently quoted.
There was much admiration of Major Anderson's defense of Sumter; but the opinion was general, that only a military sense of honor dictated his conduct; that now, relieved from a soldier's responsibility, he would resign and join the Rebels. "He is too brave a man to remain with the Yankees," was the common remark. Far in the interior of Georgia, I saw fragments of his flag-staff exhibited, and highly prized as relics.
We dined at the little hamlet of West Point, on the line between Alabama and Georgia, and stopped for two evening hours at the bustling city of Atlanta. Our stay was enlivened by a fresh conversation in the car about northern spies and reporters, who were declared to be infesting the country, and worthy of hanging wherever found.
Apprehension about Arming the Negroes.
We spent the night in pursuit of sleep under difficulties, upon a rough Georgia railway. The next morning, the scantiness of the disappearing foliage indicated that we were going northward. In Augusta, we passed through broad, pleasant shaded streets, and then crossed the Savannah river into South Carolina. Companies of troops, bound for Charleston, began to come on board the train, and were greeted with cheering at all the stations. A young Carolinian, taking me for a southerner, remarked:
"The only thing we fear in this war is that the Yankees will arm our slaves and turn them against us."
This was the first statement of the kind I heard. Persons had said many times in my presence that they were perfectly sure of the slaves—who would all fight for their masters. In the last article of faith they proved as deluded as those sanguine northerners who believed that slave insurrections would everywhere immediately result from hostilities.