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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 057 [01-11-1861]

		Inside Fort Moultrie.

[newspaper clipping continued]
trusted and in danger of being confounded with the
execrated Black Republicans.
  There is a system of espionage as complete as
that organized by the first Napoleon.  The gentle-
manly stranger who, learning you are from the
North, claims it as his own birthplace and sounds
you with some mild Union sentiments, intimating
his private conviction that �we have gone too far
here.� the barman who mixes your �cocktail,� the
colored waiter who attends assiduously upon your
party at the hotel dinner and is much interested in
the inevitable political conversation, the loungers
in its hall or under its piazza�beware of each and
all of them.  Charleston is one vigilance committee.
No such individual as the apocryphal correspondent
of the New York Tribune could exist here undis-
covered, of that I am confident.
  I credit the assertion of the New York Daybook,
that �the citizens of Charleston believe in order,�
and think that the place has been seldom disgraced
by exhibitions of mob-law; but with a revolution in
progress, how long will that spirit be kept in check?
It is rife in the interior; atrocities are committed
there which are never commemorated in the news-
  Here�s an instance.x  I was leaving Milledgeville,
Georgia, in the cars, within the last fortnight, when, 
passing through a little wood, we heard the baying
of blood-hounds, as in pursuit of something.  The 
conversation of two of my neighbors (they sat in
the seat fronting me) informed me that the object of
the chase was �a damned Yankee peddler��what
his offence might have been, or of what crime he
was suspected, I could not gather.  �I reckon,�
said one of the speakers�a coarse, imperfectly-
shaven, long-haired Georgian�with tobacco-stained
teeth, and cunning deep-set eyes, �that fellow be-
gins to sweat behind his ears now;� and then,
turning to his companion with a sort of dolorous
whine, perfectly indescribable, and which I shall
never forget, he asked, �Was there ever people op-
pressed as we be?�

[Gunn�s diary continued]
			in a hearty manner
			and invited me in.   He
			was in private clothes and
			felt hot and conversed
			with me on the ramparts,
			looking towards Fort Sum-
			ter.      The interior of
			Moultrie is described
			in my letter, as minu-
			tely as I thought pru-
			dent.    There were but
			eleven cannon spiked
			and dismounted by
			Anderson, I committed
			the error purposely; not
			to seem too particular, as
			Ripley told me the number.
			I asked him whether
			I might make a sketch
			of the interior �for the
(x One of Colt�s experiences.)       Illustrated London News?�
� he acquiesced if I would promise not to send it
to any Northern picture-paper, which, of course,
I readily could do.            I inquired what he could
do in the defensive way in Moultrie.     �Do! oh!
a good deal if that fellow there�� pointing to               
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