With
all the rest, there was an extraordinary military furor, and militia
companies and regiments paraded the streets every day, while
secession meetings were held in various halls, or in the public
squares, nearly ever night.
From the St. Charles hotel where we stopped, St. Charles street
seemed ablaze and alive all night, and densely thronged all day.
Sunday brought no rest, for Sunday, so far as military parades,
amusement and general gaiety were concerned, was the liveliest day
in the week; and Sunday night the theatres were sure to present
their best performances and to draw their largest audiences. And so,
from morning till night, and from night till morning again, all was
whirl, stir, bustle, business, enjoyment, and excitement. To me,
unaccustomed as I was to such scenes, New York even seemed tame and
dull, and slow in comparison with New Orleans.
This is a picture of the Crescent City as it presented itself to me
and to my son in the early part of the winter before the war. No one
knew or even dreamed of the terrible times that were to come. No one
believed that war was probable, or even possible; it was well
enough, perhaps, to prepare for it; but secession was to be an
accomplished fact, and the North and all the world would quietly
acknowledge it. This was the general sentiment in the city; though
secession, and what would, or what might come of it, was the general
topic of talk in the hotels, in the restaurants, at the theatres, in
the streets, everywhere.
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