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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 173 [02-14-1861]

              162
                  The Voyage Northwards.
and subsequently embodied in a letter to the
�Post.�        It was a squally, overcast mor-
ning, as we steamed out of Charleston Harbor,
with heavy, low-lying clouds behind Fort Sum-
ter, which presently began to discharge their
watery burthen.       I looked at the long sandy
islands, at Fort Moultrie, scarcely to be seen
for the sand-hillocks in front, at the villas
and houses, at honest Dan Miller�s quarters,
and alternating with a curious sense of escape
was a mixture of regret and goodwill for
my many acquaintances, between whom and
the locality to which I was bound there
might soon lie the barrier of raging war.
But the rain drove me indoors.       Saw the
Captain, got a cabin to myself.   Dinner at
1, few present, sea-sickness prostrating the
majority.   I all right, as usual.      But sixteen
cabin passengers aboard; a cargo of cotton
and rice.        Doze during the afternoon, then
on the upper-deck.     An overcast night with
a watery, crescent moon, the horns upward
(as in the Carolinian flag, which was, of
course, commented on by the passengers) some
spits of rain, persistent lightning and pre-
sently fierce rain and heavy thunder.    To               
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