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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore) 12 0 Browse Search
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109. rule Slaveownia. the National Hymn of the Confederate States. (Music Copyright in America.) When first the South, to fury fanned, Arose and broke the Union's chain, This was the Charter, the Charter of the land, And Mr. Davis sang the strain: Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves-- “Christians ever, ever, ever have had slaves.” The Northerns, not so blest as thee, At Aby Lincoln's foot may fall, While thou shalt flourish, shalt flourish fierce and free The whip, that makes the Nigger bawl. Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves-- “Christians ever, ever, ever should have slaves.” Thou, dully savage, shalt despise Each freeman's argument, or joke; Each law that Congress, that Congress thought so wise, Serves but to light thy pipes for smoke. Rule Slaveownia, Slaveownia rules, and raves-- “Christians ever, ever, ever must have slaves.” And Trade, that knows no God but gold, Shall to thy pirate ports repair; Blest land, where flesh — where h
pity breathed through tears. And thus they sang--” 'Twas not by chance, Still less by fraud or fear, That Sumter's battle came and closed, Nor cost the world a tear. Twas not that Northern hearts were weak, Or Southern courage cold, That shell and shot fell harming not A man on shore or hold. ”It was that all their ghosts who lived To love the realm they made, Came fleeting so athwart the fire, That shot and shell were stayed. Washington with his sad still face, Franklin with silver hair, Lincoln and Putnam, Allen, Gates, And gallant Wayne were there. ”With those who rose at Boston, At Philadelphia met; Whose grave eyes saw the Union's seal To their first charter set. Adams, and Jay, and Henry, Rutledge and Randolph, too-- And many a name their country's fame Hath sealed brave, wise, and true. ”An awful host — above the coast, About the fort, they bung; Sad faces pale, too proud to wail, But with sore anguish wrung. And Faith and Truth, and Love and Ruth, Hovered the battle o'
, and we will strike the enemy to the heart — for we hit his pocket, his most sensitive part. His treasure ships, laden with California wealth, traverse Southern waters. Let them be the prize of the bravest and most enterprising. His commerce is the very life of the enemy's solvency and financial vitality. Strike it, and you lay the axe to the root of his power — you rend away the sinews of war. Let the flags of privateers show themselves on the seas, and the blockade will be raised. Lincoln's fleet will scatter over the world to protect the commerce of his citizens. But they cannot protect it though they try. They are numerous enough for the blockade, but not to guard the ocean. The risk of the privateer will still be trifling, and he will continue to reap the harvest, laughing at the few scarecrows which would fright him from his profitable employment. It is easy to put privateers afloat. There are an abundance of brave men among us ready to volunteer to fight anywhere.
ia, having gone 46 miles in five and a half hours. During that ride I saw four men hanging to limbs of trees. I had no leisure for inquiries, but heard in Alexandria that several Union men had been hung for expressing their sentiments at the election polls. In Alexandria I was caught again by a picket guard, who were determined to detain me over night; and, as my pass-time would expire at midnight, they determined to indulge in a little pastime of their own, and hang me at daylight. I bribed the rascals, however, with all the money I had, and a gold watch; and, stealing a crazy old boat for me from a schooner, they sent me adrift, and after two hours alternate bailing and sculling, I landed in a swamp on the American side of the Potomac. Floundering out of the mudhole, I footed it to Washington — a distance of eight miles--arriving at 9 A. M. Friday morning, and presented myself to President Lincoln, a beautiful specimen of the genus Mud-lark.--Albany Evening Journal, May 30.
132. songs of the rebels. North Carolina call to arms. by Mrs. Willis L. Miller. air--The Old North State. Ye sons of Carolina, awake from your dreaming! The minions of Lincoln upon us are streaming! Oh, wait not for argument, call, or persuasion, To meet at the onset this treacherous invasion! Defend, defend the old North State forever; Defend, defend the good old North State. Oh, think of the maidens, the wives, and the mothers! Fly ye to the rescue, sons, husbands, and brothers, And sink in oblivion all party and section; Your hearthstones are looking to you for protection! Defend, defend the old North State forever, &c. “Her name stands the foremost in Liberty's story!” Oh, tarnish not now her fame and her glory! Your fathers to save her their swords bravely wielded, And she never yet has to tyranny yielded. Defend, defend the old North State forever, &c. The babe in its sweetness, the child in its beauty, Unconsciously urge you to action and duty! By all that is sacred
this rebellion, its causes and consequences, far better than ever I supposed. I asked one old man, who said he was a Methodist class-leader, to tell me frankly whether this matter was well understood by all the slaves, and he answered me that it was, and that he had prayed for it for many, many long years. He said that their masters and all talked about it, and he added, Lora bless you, honey — we don give it up last September dat the North's too much for us, meaning, of course, that Mr. Lincoln's election was conceded even there by the slave masters, and was understood and hoped for by all the slaves. I asked the same man how many more would probably come into the fort., He said, A good many; and if we's not sent back, you'll see 'em 'fore tomorrow night. I asked why so, and he said, Dey'll understand if we's not sent back, dat we're 'mong our friends; for if de slaveholder sees us, we gets sent right back. And sure enough, on Monday about forty or fifty more, of all ages