Seward an' Stantin both jumped up an' declared that Blair was very onjust.
"Seward an' Stantin both jumped up an' declared that Blair was very onjust."—page 154.
Then old Welles got up, looking very sleepy. He sed "the failure could not be charged agin the Navy. It was the most wide-awake institushin of the age. It had achievedallthe victories." [Here Stantin jumped up agin, but Welles wouldn't yield the floor.] "The army couldn't do anything without his gunboats. Every time the rebils got at them, they had had to retrete tohisgunboats. In his opinion the army had failed, because it could not carry his gunboats with it. He sed he had been try in to invent a plan to furnish each regiment with a gunboat for land service. Ef he could do that, he thought Richmond might be taken early next spring! The only thing in all the war that had not been a failure were his gunboats!"
Then Mr. Smith, an old man from out West, got up. He sed "he belonged to the interior, and didn't know much about what was goin on. He had heered say there was a war in progress, and that there had been some pretty tall fightin, but he didn't know whether it had been a success or a failure. Ef we had failed, he thought it must be because we had not been successful, an ef we had succeeded, he thought it must be because we hadn't failed!"
Mr. Bates sed "he agreed with Mr. Smith, except in one pint. He had heerd, within a day or two, for the first time, that we had failed. Upon lookin over Blackstun to see ef there was eny case like it, he had been much disappinted in not findin eny. He thought we must have failed because we had not follered Blackstun."
After he got thru, Linkin called upon me. I jest hauled up my old hickery and laid it on the tabil, an then puttin my elbows on the tabil to rest myself, I began. Ses I, "Kernel, I feel kinder scary to giv my opinion rite here, after sech a display of larnin an eloquince; but," ses I, "as I understand the questshin, it is this: We've been fightin to restore the Union, an we've failed. Now, what is the cause of the failure?" Ses I, "Is that it, Kernel?" Ses he, "Yes, Majer; that's it, exactly." "Wal," ses I, "I allers want to get on the track afore I start, an then I kin tell purty nigh where I will fetch up. Now," ses I, "Kernel, I want to ask you a questshin:Did you ever try to split a peperage log!" "No," ses he, "Majer, I never did. Nobody would be sech a consarned fool as to try an split a peperage log." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, suppose some feller should cum to you an tell you that he had been a year an a half tryin to split a peperage log, an couldn't do it, that he had failed, an wanted you to tell him what to do, what would you say to him?"—"Say to him!—why, I should tell him he might jest as well whistle at the log as to try to split it—that it warn't in the natur of sech knotty, nerly, cross-grained timber to split; in other words, that he was tryin to do an onpossibul thing." "Now," ses I, "Kernel, that's jest my idee about tryin to save this Union by fightin! You're tryin to do an onpossibul thing. After a year an a half of fightin, you all acknowledge that you have failed, an all the Cabynet is wonderin why you have failed. Now, it ain't no wonder to me. You have failed jest because, in the very natur of things, what you are tryin to do can't be done in that way. You're takin the rong way to do it."
Wen I sed this, you never did see sech a flutter. Stantin turned very red in the face, and sed "that I orter be sent to Fort Lafayette." I telled him that I wasn't afeered of all the Forts this side of Purgotary, and that I should speak my mind till my dyin day, let what would happen. That cooled him down. Then I told the Cabynet that the only way to get out of this scrape was to have an armistiss, stop the fightin, and go to talkin—that both sides had had enuf of bloodshed now to satisfy them, an that the only way to get at a settlement was to do that. They took a vote on it, an all voted for it except Linkin, Chase and Welles. The Kernel sed he was so committed to the Abolishin Governors of the North, that he couldn't go for the armistiss. Chase sed, "ef it comes to that, then all the money has been spent for nothin, an I shall be cussed for the debt forever an ever." Old Welles sed that he thought we should be successful jest as soon as he got his new Patent Land Gunboats in operashin, an he was for fightin the thing out! The other members of the Cabynet sed they thought they could back out without much trubbel. Seward sed he never see a hole so small that he couldn't, on a pinch, get through, especially with Weed to help him. He thought he should turn Dimmocrat! Stantin sed he intended to jine the church, and turn Methodist precher. Blair sed he didn't know what he should do till he consulted his father! He knew the old man could help him out. Smith an Bates sed they should return to the buzzum of their families, an, if necessary for their safety, put on krinoline!
No conclusion, however, was cum to about the armistiss. The Kernel can't bring himself up to the idee yet. Ef the Governors were only in favor of it, he should do it at once. So I suppose, for the present, we shall keep on tryin to do an onpossibul thing—to git the Union by fightin for it. Depend upon it, tryin to split peperage logs ain't nothin to it.
Yours till deth,
Major Jack Downing.
LETTER XVIII.
The Major not Ill—The President has "the Gripes"—The Witch-Hazel Medicine—Going to the bottom of a Subject—The Democrats and the War—The Emancipation Proclamation—A Visit to Gen. McClellan's Army—The Soldiers Cool—Mr. Lincoln tells a Story—"Sloshing About."
Washington, Oct. 6th, 1862.
To the Editers of The Cawcashin:
Surs:—I see you sed in your paper, last week, that perhaps I had the rheumatiz, and that that was the resin why I had not writ you. Now, you were dredfully mistaken, for I aint had a twinge of the rheumatics for a long time. The resin I did not write last week was jest this: Rite off, after Linkin had issooed that Abolishin Proclymashin, he was taken with a terribul fit of the gripes. There was noos received that some of the sojers were gettin onruly, and refusin to fight for the nigger, an I thought one spell that the Kernel would go crazy. He walked the floor all nite, an looked as ef he would die. Finerally it brought on the gripes, an then his condishin was terribul. I tried elder bark tea, but it didn't do a mite of good, so I telled him there warn't but one medicin that would cure him, an that was witch hazel sticks mixed up with molasses. So I sent fur some twigs an cut em up in about inch pieces, and put the molasses on, an stirred it all up. The Kernel looked at it very sharp, an ses he, "Majer, you aint going to give me rale fence to drink, are you? The remedy will be wus than the disease." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, then that will be jest like your Abolishin Proclymashin," an I kept on mixin it with a big spoon. "Now," ses I, "Kernel, the good pints of this medicin are, that as it goes thru a feller it cleans him completely out. It confiscates, eradicates, obliterates an conflusticates everything. It's equal to your Abolishin Proclymashin an the Confiscashin Bill rolled into one." Ses I, "Kernel, there's only one thing about it that's wrong. Sometimes the sticks get twisted together, or tangled up like the logs comin down the river, in Maine in the spring of the year, and it requires a purty hard jar to start 'em loose. But," ses I, "there's no danger of it's killin anybody, and there's no way for you to get rid of that gripin but by takin it." The Kernel looked at it purty sharp, an ses he, "Majer, I can't stand this innard arthquake much longer, an ef you say that that rale fence will cure me, I'll swallow it ef it takes the har off my hed." So I jest told him to take it, an down he put it as easy as ef it had ben geniwine Borbone. He hadn't had it down but a little while before he began to get wus. He walked the floor an groaned as ef he was goin to die. Ses he, "Majer, this infernal stuff will kill me, sure. I believe I've swallowed a dose of pitchfork tines, or a half-pint of darnin needles. It reminds me of a story, Majer, but I feel too bad to tell it. It's the very first time in my life I was ever so far gone." I see at a glance what was the matter. The sticks had got tangled together, an lodged fast, an I knew there was no time to be lost. So ses I, "Kernel, I kin cure you. You jest cum here an sit down in this cheer." He cum up, and wen he went to set down, I jerked the cheer rite out from under him, an down he cum kerslap on the floor. I tell you it made the hull house shake; but I knowed he must get a good jar, or it was a gone case with him. It made him see stars for a little while, for the Kernel, you know, is long-geared, an it was no jokin matter for him to fall so far. But it was all over within a minnet, an wen he got up he sed he felt like another man; but, ses he, "Majer, that's what I call goin to the bottom of a subject." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that's jest what you are tryin to do on the slavery questshin, an ef you don't see stars on that before you get thru with it, I'll wonder." Ses I, "Kernel, do you expect Dimmicrats are goin to support you on freein the niggers?" "Wal," ses he, "Majer, not the rale, geniwine Dimmicrats; but you see you've got a grate lot of fellers in your party who call themselves Dimmicrats, who aint Dimmicrats at all. You've had the offices in your party so long, that you've naterally attracted a hull lot of chaps who only want offices. These fellers have mostly been the leaders of your party for years an years, an now, wen we've got the offices, an there aint scarcely a chance that the South will ever have eny more to give 'em, they all cum to us, an I kin get 'em at almost eny price, from a Brigadier-Generalship down to a quarter of a dollar. I've tried to git some geniwine Dimmicrats to mix in, but you can't touch em." Ses I, "Kernel, I guess you'll find that the grate bulk of the Dimmicrats won't fite to free the niggers. They can't be sech a pack of derned fools." "You've got too high an opinion of your party, Majer," ses the Kernel. "There's a grate menny more derned fools in it than you've got eny idee of. You say they won't fite to put down slavery. Didn't they say they wouldn't fite to coerce the South? And didn't they do it? Didn't they say they would only defend the Capital, and wouldn't invade Virginia, and didn't they do it?"
Majer, that is what I call goin' to the bottom of a subject.
"Majer, that is what I call goin' to the bottom of a subject."—Page 161.
"Yes," ses I, "Kernel, I must own that's the truth; but," ses I, "they called God to witness ef the war was ever made an anti-slavery war, they would throw down their arms." "Yes," ses he, "but don't they say now that they aint got nothing to do with the policy of the government, an that their only duty is to fite." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, sum of 'em have sed that, but it can't be possibul that that's the gineral sentiment. Ef they follow that principul, then ef you should proclaim yourself Emperor or King, an tell 'em to fite to establish a monarchy, they would do that." "That's drivin your idees a little too far, Majer, as you ginnerally do. But what do you think about our goin up to the army an reviewin the sojers, and seein whether I aint jest as popelar as ever I was?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I think that that is a good idee, an I kin judge purty nigh how your Proclymashin sets on the stumacks of the sojers from the way they cheer you. Ef they cheer as loud as they did wen they were down at Harrisin Landin, I shall be mistaken." So we started off the next day for Ginneral McClellan's head-quarters in a speshal train. First we went to Ginneral Sumnure's head-quarters, and it warn't long afore Ginneral McClellan cum there. too. There was sum talk about the Proclymashin, an Linkin told the Ginneral that there were two great resins why he had made it. One was to stop furrin nashins from interferin, an the other was to make the rebils cum to terms. He thought it would feteh 'em, sure.
Ginneral McClellan didn' say a word, one way nor tother, but looked oncommon solemn, and axed the Kernel whether he didn't want to revew the troops. I saw at once that the Ginneral didn't like it, and that he wanted to turn the subject. Then we started off and took a look at the troops on Merryland Hights and Bollyvare Hights, and all around Mr. Harper's ferry. Mr. Harper warn't hum, and so we didn't see him, and the ferry warn't in good order nether, the resen bein that the rebils had been there and destroyed eenamost everything. As we were goin along, ses I, "Kernel, them cheers don't sound like they did down on the Jeemes River." The Kernel didn't say enything, but looked very serious. Wen Ginneral McClellan showed himself, you oughter have heerd the sojers yell and scream, and wave their hats. I never see the Kernel look so pale and thin, and I couldn't get a word out of him. As for makin a speech, it warn't to be thought on. After we got all done reviewin the sojers, the Kernel and all hands of us come down from the Hights, and sot down near the road on an old wagin. Linkin told some stories to pass away the time, an purty soon we went back to Ginneral Somnure's head-quarters, where we staid all nite. The next mornin we went to Ginneral McClellan's head-quarters, an then over the battle field of Auntyeatem. The next day we cum hum, both of us purty nigh tired out. The Kernel pulled off his boots as soon as he got in the house, as he almost allus does, an I got out my pipe for a smoke.
"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, what do you think of your visit?" Ses he, "Majer, it's jest as you told me. That Proclymashin of mine ain't popular, and I knowed it wouldn't be. But jest see how I was situated. There was the Abolishin Guvernurs drivin me on one side, an ther was France an England on the other side. What was I to do? I couldn't stand still. I couldn't go back. So I had to "let her rip." I've ben poleing around, Majer, ever sence I've been President, trying to touch bottom, an I couldn't find it. Now I hope I'll git it." "Yes," ses I, "Kernel, but may be your pole warnt a constitutional pole. Ef it had ben, you would hev found bottom long ago." Ses I, "Depend on it, Kernel, there ain't no bottom where you are poleing, and ef you keep on till doomsday, you won't find eny."
Ses I, "Kernel, don't you know that you said in your inaugerole that you had no rite to interfere with slavery, an that you didn't intend to?"
Ses he, "Did I, Majer? I've forgot all about it. The truth is, Majer, when I look back the two years I've been President, it reminds me of a story:—Old Bill Jones got drunk one election day, out in Illinoy, an had a hand in several fites before nite. The next day he was brought up before a Justess of the Peace, an the Justess inquired, 'Mr. Jones, did you strike Tom Smith yesterday?' 'Wal, I don't know, Judge,' ses Bill, 'I was sloshin around considerabul, an can't exzactly say what I did.' 'Wal, Mr. Jones, did you hit Jim Wattles?' 'Wal, now, Judge, I can't be sartin; the truth is, I wassloshinaround most of the day, I reckon.' 'Now, Mr. Jones, tell me whether you struck Dick Robinson?' 'Can't say, Judge,' replied Bill. 'I believe, on the hull, I wassloshinaround aboutallday.' 'Wal, Mr. Jones,' said the Justess, 'what do you mean by "sloshin around?"' 'Wal, Judge,' said Bill, '"sloshin around" is jest going rite thru a crowd, an mowin your swath, hitten rite an left everybody you meet slap over the face an eyes.' Now, the truth is, Majer, I've been 'sloshin around' sence I've been President, hittin in the dark, an not knowin exzacly where I struck. This Proclymashin of mine is a hit in the dark, but as I am the first anti-slavery President, I've got to mark out a new track, an hence do as old Bill Jones did, keep 'sloshin around.'"
"Wall," ses I, "Kernel, that's resky business, an ef you don't 'slosh' once too often, it will be a wonder. But," ses I, "Kernel, I'me terribul tired after this trip, an what do you say to havin a little old rye before we go to bed?"—"That's jest what I was thinkin of, Majer." The Kernel then told the feller in bad close, who does chores for us, to get us some, an we both tuk a good swig of genewine rye-juice, an went to bed. I was eenamost tuckered out, but this mornin I feel nigh about as good as ever agin.
Yours till deth,
Majer Jack Downing.
LETTER XIX.
The President Nervous—The State Elections—Mr. Lincoln Astonished —He Takes Cordial—Mr. Seward Turns Democrat—The Major Tells a Story—Mr. Seward and the Major Take a Drink—How John Van Buren got Gen. Scott's Letter—Mr. Stanton on the Elections.
Washington, Oct. 20th, 1862.
To the Editers of The Cawcashin:
Surs: Wal, the Kernel has ben sick agin. It is astonishin how littel takes him down now-a-days. His constitushin seems to be eenamost clean gone. Old rye don't do much good, an I've tried all sorts of medicin, but nothin seems to work well. This time his narves were terribly worked up, an he was so fidgety, that I koncluded to try Godfrey's Cordial. This cooled him down a dood deal, and but not until he tuk nigh unto four or five bottles full. The cause of all this flutter was the recent elecshins in Ohio, Indiany an Pennsylvany. The Kernel had been told by Sumnure, Greeley an Andrews that the only way to carry the elecshins this fall, was to issoo an emancipashun proclamashun; that if he didn't do it, the party would be completely whipped out in every State. So he koncluded to try it, but wen the returns cum in, you never did see such a woe-begone lookin man. One nite he heerd sum bad news from Ohio, an gettin up in his nite gown, he cum to my room and axed what I thought about it. I struck a light an got out my slate. The Kernel had Greeley's last year's almanac in his hands. Ses he, "Majer, let's go down to the telegraf offis, and see how the majorities run, an we can be able to give a guess that will cum as nigh to it as the jump of a rabbit." So I jist put on my duds, an off we went. The news cum in thick an fast, an as the feller at the telegraf read off the figgers, I put 'em down on my slate, an the Kernel compared them with his own majorities in Greeley's primer. I see he was turnin all sorts of colors, an finally, ses he, "Majer, we are gone jist as kompletely as if we were up Salt River now, instead of bein here. I'de jest like to swap places with sum hoss-jockey, an go into the hoss contract line." Ses he, "Majer, let's go hum. I've seen all of this elephant that I want to." So he crammed his coat-tail pocket full of despatches, an off we started. When he got hum, ses he, "Majer, my administrashin is the biggest failyure that ever tuk place in the history of this or eny other country. I now see that jest as plain as I see that bottle of old rye there. I've listened to those infernal fools, Sumnure an Greeley, an a pretty scrape they have got me in."
Ses I, "Kernel, it ain't my natur to hit a man wen he is down, or to hurt anybody's feelins by referrin to the past. But," ses I, "don't you rekollect the story about 'applyin the principle?'" Ses he, "Yes, I do; I recollect it well." "Wal," ses I, "now see theresultof 'applyin the principle.' I told you then that you'd get scorched wus than Zenas Humspun did in meddlin with the telegraf, if you undertook to carry out the principle of Abolishun, but you sed the thing must tech the bottom, an you was bound to put it through. Now, you see, the people don't support you. They don't want niggers made equal to white men, nor they don't want 'em freed to be a tax on 'em. A few fellers like Greeley, whose brains all seem to run to bran-bread, an free luv, or some other moonstruck nonsense, an some larned fools like Sumnure, want to try the experiment, but they don't represent the people. So you see, Kernel, that in applyin the principle you have kicked yourself over, an I only menshin it to show you that if he had followed my advice you would not have had these grate defeats to mourn over."
The Kernel looked very solem, an ses he, "Majer, I know I'd been a great deal better off if I'd followed your advice all through these trubbils, but you see I had to go with my party, and if it had carried me to the other side of Jordon, I s'pose I should have gone with it."
That nite I thought the Kernel would go into spasms, he was so nervous. I got some hot water, an soaked his feet in it, rubbed his bowels with brandy, an laid flannel on 'em, an bathed his temples in camfire an rum. But he grew wus all the time. Finally, I began to pore the Cordial down him, an then he commenced to revive. But he didn't sleep scacely a wink all nite. In the mornin he was the most limpsy piece of mankind I ever did see. I ralely believe he might have been tied in a knot like an eel, he was so limber.
Jest a little while after breakfast, who should come in but Seward? He hadn't hardly spoken to me sence I blowed him for alterin the Kernel's Constitushinal Teliskope, but this mornin he was as perlite an as clever as he could be. Ses he, "Majer, the elecshin news is good, anourparty is successful." Ses I, "Mr. Seward, I don't understand you." "Why, Majer," ses he—and he put on one of the queerest smiles I ever see on a man's face—"don't you know I have turned Dimmocrat?" Ses I, "You don't say so." "Yes," ses he, "I'm a Dimmocrat now, an no mistake." The Kernel looked as if thunder had struck him. "Wal," ses I, "Mr. Seward, that reminds me of a story, as the Kernel would say." "Wal," ses he, "Majer, what is it? I always like to hear your stories. They are so pat." "Wal," ses I, "mebby this will turn out to be a little patter than you like; but, howsoever, as I never spile a good story for acquaintance sake, I will tell it. Once on a time, it is said, an old coon went out of a night to get some fodder among the cornfields, an did not return to his hole until near mornin. Wen he got hum he saw a skunk had taken possession of his hole. He went up, an ses he, 'Who's there?' The skunk replied, 'A coon.' 'Are you a coon?' 'Yes,' said the skunk, 'I'm a coon.' 'Wal,' sed the coon, 'you don't look like a coon; you don't act like a coon, and I'll be darned ef yousmelllike a coon.'"
"Now," ses I, "Mr. Seward, you may be a Dimmocrat, but you don't look like one, nor act like one, nor smell like one, an I'll be darned ef I believe you are one."
Ses he, "Majer, you are rather personal." "Wal," ses I, "I don't mean any offence, an," ses I, "if you really mean to be a Dimmocrat, let's take a drink of old rye over the victories in Ohio, Pennsylvany and Indiany." So he cum up an we both took a good swig of wiskey. The Kernel looked at us an grit his teeth. "Wal," ses he, "ef you are goin to rejoice in my defeat, I'll go over an call on Stantin, an see ef he can't cheer me up." So the Kernel went off. After he'd gone, Seward an I tuk another nip of the old rye, an purty soon we tasted of it agin. The Seckretary is a capital drinker, an he knows what good licker is as well as eny feller I ever see. Finally he got in a very good humer, an ses he, "Majer, we've been bad friends long enough." So he actually hugged me, and sed there warn't a man that ever lived that he loved so much as the old Ginneral, an next to him his friend Majer Downing. Wen I thought I'd got him in a good humer an he was very talkative, ses I, "Mr. Seckretary, kin you tell me how John Van Buren got that letter of Ginneral Scott's?" Ses he, "Yes, Majer, I kin. You know I don't want that feller Wadswurth elected, for he's my bitter political inemy; so the way the letter got out was this:—Weed, you know, is my chum. Now, we have an understandin that everything that I can't tell him I put in my right hand coat-tail pocket. You see then I can deny that I made it public. That pocket is Weed's pocket, an he always goes to it for secrets. Wal, I put the letter in that pocket, an Weed got it from there. Weed also has just such a pocket. All smart politishins have such a pocket. Now, Weed's chum is Ben Welch, Commissary Ginneral, an Ben got it out of Weed's pocket. Now, John has long been a chum of Ben's, an he got it out of Ben's pocket. That's the way that this letter got out, that there is so much mystery about."
Rite off after this the Kernel came in, an we had to drop the conversashin, for Seward gave me the wink as much as to say that he didn't want Linkin to know everything about it.
Then I asked the Kernel what Stantin sed. He sed Stantin was in favor of issooing a proclamashin, over the grate victories of the Administrashin in Ohio, Indiany, Pennsylvany an Iway. He sed the people didn't put any faith in newspapers any more, an a proclamashin declarin that the elecshins had all gone favorabul would be believed without winkin. Stantin thinks there ain't nothin so powerful as a proclamashin. Seward said afore it was done, the Cabbynet had better be called together. Here the matter dropped, an as the Kernel looked uncommon blue, I left him to his own reflecshins, an went up-stairs to my room.
Yours till deth,
Majer Jack Downing.
LETTER XX.
The New York Election—Mr. Lincoln Tells a Story—Cannot Do Justice to the Subject—Mr. Lincoln Feels Bad—The Major Amuses him by a Joke—How to get up a Message—Keeping a Party Together—The Excelsior Political Prepared Glue—The Different Stripes of Abolitionists— Boating on the Mississippi River—Poleing Along.
Washington, Nov. 10th, 1862.
To the Editers of The Cawcashin:
I expect you were very much surprised in not gettin a letter from me last week, but the truth is, I got one partly writ jest as the news of the elecshins in New York an Jersey cum in, an I should have finished it an sent it on ef the Kernel had not been taken down sick so sudden. Wen the rumor fust cum that York city had gone over thirty thousand for Seemore, an that Fernandow an Ben. Wood an Jeemes Brooks had been elected to Congriss, the Kernel didn't say a word, but looked as ef he'd drop down thru the floor. I didn't like to speak fust, but I see the Kernel warn't going to, an so ses I, "How do you feel, Mr. Presidint?" "Wal," ses he, "Majer, I'll tell you a story. A good meny years ago there lived in lower Kentuck an old feller named Josh Miller. Now, it was ginerally reckoned in that part of the country that old Josh could out-swear eny feller that ever lived. Josh was a kind of gineral teamster, an had a two-hoss wagon with which he did chores for everybody round the village. One day he had on a load of ashes, an was goin up a steep hill, sittin on the fore part of his wagon. Wen about half way up the hind-board of his wagon cum out, an old Josh not lookin round, nigh about all the ashes jarred out, so wen he got to the top of the hill he didn't have a pan full left. He stopped his hosses, however, an got out, an a hull lot of fellers, who knew the ability of old Josh in the swearin line, gathered around expecting to here the tallest kind of strong words. The old feller looked fust at his wagon an then at the ashes all strewed along the road, an finally ses he, 'Boys, there's no use in tryin—I can't do jestice to the subject.' An now, Majer," ses the Kernel, "That jest my condition now—I can't do jestice to the subject, an I don't feel like talkin; in fact, Ican'ttalk."
I see the Kernel felt very bad, an ef he couldn't talk nor tell stories, I didn't know wat on arth might happen. I was afeered he would get so full that sumthin like the dropsy would set in. An sure enuf, that nite not a word did he speak, nor a story did he tell. The consekence was, he began to swell an bloat like a mad porkepine. I see at once that I must turn doctor agin, or there was no tellin how soon he might kick the bucket. He was growin wus fast, actually beginnin to lookblue. So ses I, "Kernel, there's no help for it; you must be tapped!" "Tapped!" ses he, "Majer, tapped! There warn't enything evertappedin my house that lasted more that a week. Oh no! I ain't reddy to die yet." I see the "rulin pashin was strong in deth," jest as the poet's say; but as soon as I got a joke out of him, I knew that he would survive. So thinks I to myself, I'll see ef I can fetch him to by another joke; so ses I, "Kernel, suppose 'tappin' should kill you, you would go to aworld of spirits!"
Wen I said this, he jumped rite up out of his chair, laughin, an takin me by the hand, ses he, "Majer, you are the best frend I've got. Wen I'm sick you doctor me, an wen I'm down spereted you jest joke me rite out of the dumps." Ses he, "Majer, I've a good mind to make you Commander-in-Cheef of the Army." "No, no," ses I, "Kernel, don't do that, for I should think you had sumthin agin me, an wanted to hand me over to the Abolishinists to be punished!"
The Kernel and I have also been bizzy sence I wrote you last in getting up the next message. He has been ritin his ideas on little slips of paper about two inches wide, as they have happened to pop in his head, an then submitten 'em to me to sort of polish up. The Kernel ses that ritin a message is a good deal like gettin out timber for a barn in the woods. Fust, you want the sills, then the posts, then the girders, then the plates, an finally the rafters. We ain't got the sills fairly hewed out and squared yit. The truth is, the Kernel is kinder worried as to how exactly to lay the foundashin. Wilson, who is now here, ses the sills must be of Abolishin timber, and no mistake. I telled the Kernel that sich stuff was the poorest kind of bass-wood, an wouldn't stand nohow. Then he thought of puttin in a mixture of Abolishin timber an sum constitutional saw-logs, but I telled him that that would make it so cross-grained that it wouldn't bear eny weight at all, an by the time we got the rafters on it would all smash down in a pile. "Wal," ses he, "Majer, I must do sumthin to keep my party together. I must contrive sum sort of a mixture that won't look too much Abolishin, an yet that won't drive off the old, genewine friends of freedom." "Wal," ses I, "I don't think your party kin hold together much longer, enyhow. It seems to me it is mity nigh now fallen to pieces, an it won't take much longer to knock it into so menny pieces that you can't no more putty 'em together than you can find the tail of a rainbow."
"Wal," ses the Kernel, "Majer, don't you think I've done well in keepin it together as long as I have?" Ses I, "Yes, Kernel, ef there's a feller in this country that ought to git out a patent for 'Excelsior Political Prepared Glue,' it is you. You've kept together the most cross-grained, knotty, knerly lot of political timber that ever was made up into eny political party." Ses I, "There's the Greeley stripe. Now, it's enuf to give any party the dyspepsy to have such a set of bran-bread, free-luv, long-haired set of fellers in it. An ther's Gerrit Smith an his stripe, a kind of maroon-colored, mongrel breed of politicians, sumthin like a cross between a Jamacy nigger an an Esquimaw; an then ther's Wendell Phillips an old Garrison, sort of Abolishin alligators; an fineally you've got a sort of half-an-half fellers in your party who try to be conservative, who quote Blackstun and the law dicschinnaries, an set great stress upon being very moderate. Now, how you've contrived, Kernel, to keep all these different ingredients together is a mystery." "Wal, Majer, ef I hadn't larn't sumthin about boatin on the Mississippi River, wen I was young, I don't believe I would ever have been able to steer the ship of State at all." "Why," ses I, "how is that?" "Wal," ses he, "goin up the Mississippi River is a good deal like being Presidint. Sumtimes you have to go one way and sumtimes another. Sumtimes you go slam rite in one bank an sumtimes in t'other, and then it ain't at all oncommon to get on a sand-bar, an lay there no one can tell how long. Now, Majer, that's a good deal like being Presidint, an you see I've kept my party together by jest goin first one way an then t'other. Wen the Abolishin tide cum along strong, I'de jest let the vessel foller the current, go with it, an wen she struck the other shore, of course, it would take another tack. Sumtimes, when all hands got a quarrelin, I jest let her rip rite on a sand-bar, and there let her lay until I made 'em settle their disputes. But, I tell you, Majer, there's one that has been the best of all to keep my party together. Wen they've got purty mutinous, I've threatened to discharge all hands an get a new set. Then you ought to see how soon they stop quarrelin. Ther's nothin they so much dred as to lose the offices. Take away the cow that gives the milk, an they would all blat jest like weaned calves. So wen I stop the ship an tell them that I'm goin to clear the deck an put on a new crew, I tell you they are as whist as mice. So you see, I go poleing along. First this way, then that, jest like goin up the Mississippi River, for all the world."
"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that seems to me a rather hap-hazard, no-policy way of bein Presidint. It ain't statesmanlike." "Wal, Majer, mebby it is and mebby it ain't; but I'm goin to make things shake now, sence the elecshins are over. Things have got to be more lively."
I didn't say nothin, for I see the Kernel was gettin his back up. At last, ses I, "Kernel, have you tried eny of that old rye lately?" Ses he, "No, Majer, I ain't, but I feel like wettin my gills to-nite. How do you feel?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, a little good whiskey never goes agin the grain." At that the Kernel sent for the feller who does chores, an we both took a swig. Wen I thought he was in purty good humor, ses I, "Kernel, why did you remove McClellin?" Ses he, "Majer, I can't tell you now, but jest recollect my story about 'polein around,' an gettin in 'Abolishin currents,' an you kin guess." I sed nothin, for I see the Kernel was very mum, so I bid him good-nite, and slept as sound on that old rye as I ever did wen I was a boy. The Kernel is famous for good whiskey, anyhow.
Yours, till deth,
Majer Jack Downing.
LETTER XXI.
The Message—A Cabinet Council—Speeches of Seward, Chase, Stanton, Welles, Blair and Bates—Mr. Lincoln Tells a Story—The Major Gives His Opinion—Mr. Chase Accuses Him of Disloyalty—The Major Demands a Retraction—It is Given.
Washington, Nov. 22, 1862.
To the Editers of The Cawcashin:
Surs:—Wal, the messige ain't done yet. The Kernel keeps tinkerin at it a little every day. I tell him he is jest like a cooper hammerin at a barrel. He keeps poundin away, an when he gits thru, he is rite around jest where he started from. The other day I telled the Kernel that it mite hurry up matters by havin a Cabinet Council, and perhaps by gettin all heds together we mite git the messige in sum sort of shape. Congress would meet afore long, an there was no time to loose. The Kernel sed he thought that would be a good idee, an so one was called. The Kernel insisted that I should be present, though I didn't much want to be, sence I knew how Seward was trying to play the conservative and turn Dimmycrat. Howsoever, I determined to go but to say nothin. The Kernel opened the ball by tellin all hands how that he an the Majer had been to work at the messige for some weeks, off an on, like farmers sortin their corn, but they couldn't git the docyment into ship-shape exactly, an hence he had called 'em together to hear their opinions on the subject, an to larn how each department, stood. He sed he wanted to tech on all subjects, an fust he would ask Mr. Seward about our furrin affairs. Seward got up, lookin very pale, an the fust thing he sed was, that he believed Seemore was elected Guvernor of New York. Mr. Chase wanted to know "what that had to do with foreign affairs, but," ses he, an here he looked very knowin, "perhaps Mr. Seward kin tell how Seemore cum to be elected?" At this Seward brushed up an asked him "what he meant?" "Wal," ses he, "I mean jest this, that if you an Weed had not thrown cold water on Wadsworth, Seemore would never have been elected." "That's false," ses Seward, an Chase jumped up as if he was goin to do sumthin, but the Kernel at once interfered, an sed that he didn't send for 'em to quarrel about the elecshins, which were bad enough, Lord knows, but he wanted to know how the furrin affairs stood. Seward sed, "that, comin to the pint, furrin affairs never looked better. We were at peace with all the world, an he didn't doubt but with the aid of his friend Weed, and a liberal use of secret service money, he would be able to keep the peace. He sed it looked now as if, in sixty days, that all idee of furrin intervenshin for the rebils would be given up, an then the rebelyun would be smashed at once."
Then the Kernel asked Mr. Chase how the financies stood. Wal, Chase sed that everything was working splendid; that only the other day he got a loan in Wall street above par; that everything was risin in price, an that the people was tickled to deth with the good-lookin notes he got out; that they liked 'em so well, an they were so much handier than gold an silver, that they didn't use enything else lately. He sed he thought he was going to be set down as the greatest financier since the days of Liecurgus, who made money out of iron, an thus made all the people rich at once. He said that he would make 'em all rich, ef paper didn't get too high, an there was some danger of it, as the pesky rebils had all the cotton to make it of. Jest get that, an he would snap his fingers at the hull world.
Then Stantin got up. He sed everything was now progressin finely sence the Ralerode Sooperintendent had been discharged. He didn't doubt but Burnside would be in Richmond by the time Congress met, an he thought it was so sure, that he advised Linkin to put it in his Message at once. He sed his idee was, as soon as Richmond was taken, to issoo a proclamashin appointing a day of thanksgiv'n an prayer for our victory over the rebils. He sed, ef his plans had been followed, we would have been in the rebil Capital long ago, but it was all rite now, and no one need have eny fears.
Then grandfather Welles spoke. He sed Mr. Stantin seemed to think that the army was goin to do all, but he could tell him that he would find that his gunboats were to play a big part. He had been all summer buildin a hull lot of iron-plated monsters, an ef the war didn't cum to an end too soon, they would make the fur fly. At all events, they would be reddy to celebrate peace, which would be somethin. For his part, he didn't think the war was nigh ended; yet in fact, he didn't see how it could end until all the contracts were finished. It would'nt do to disappint so many good members of the party, who hadn't yet had their turn buyin vessels on commission, or makin gunboats.
Then Mr. Blair got up, lookin as if he thought that wisdom would surely die when he did. He sed he reckoned that the country was safe. He sed he had kept a pretty close watch on the newspapers to see ef eny of them opposed the war or advocated slavery. He thought that the people never had had sich advantages in the Post-Office as they had had sence he was Postmaster-Gineral. The people, he sed, used to have to pick out the papers they wanted to take themselves, now he did it for 'em. He sed he thought he knew best, too, what was good for them, for his father was an editor a good meny years, an when he needed informashin he allers called on the old man! When Blair sot down, the Kernel called upon Mr. Bates, but he had gone to sleep, so they skipped him and called upon Mr. Smith. He sed that the interior department was in a flourishin condishin, but he hed lately heered that the loco focos had agin carried Indianny, and it had so worried him as to give him the tooth-ache. Ef they wanted to know anythin more about this department, he would ask his chief clark. Here the Kernel asked Seward ef he wouldn't wake up Mr. Bates. Seward jest walked up, tuk his finger and thumb and pinched the old man's nose. As he was breathin very hard thru it, he jumped up as ef he had ben pricked with a pin. Ses he, "Have the rebils took Saint Lewis?" Seward telled him that this was a Cabbynet Council. "Aye," ses he, "what's up?" "Wal," ses Linkin, "we want to know the condishin of your department?" Ses he, "I ain't a military Ginneral, an ain't got command of no department!" The old man warn't fairly awake yet; ses Seward, ses he, "I guess I'll have to give him another pinch." "Now," ses the Kernel, "that reminds me of a story. An old Dominy down in Connecticut used to have a very sleepy congregashin. One day, wen a good many were asleep, he stopped rite in the middle of his sermon, and called out, 'Deacon Giles, sing the 119th Psalm, to the tune of Old Hundred.' The Deacon commenced and sung one verse. Wen he got thru, the Dominy yelled out at the top of his voice, 'sing another varse, Deacon; they ain't all awake yit.'" Wile all hands were laughing at the Kernel's story, Mr. Bates got putty wide awake, and sed that his business had got sorter mixed up with Stantin's, and in fact there warnt any courts or judges or juries now, an mity little need of Atturny Ginnerals—the Ginnerals were all of another kind. He sed wen the war was over he meant to write out a legal opinion agin it, but he was afeered it wouldn't be loyal to do it now, and so he spent most of his time in reading a bound volume of the Christian Almanac, which he had for fifty years back. He thought the country was in a very prosperous condishin, for he drew his salary regular.
After he got thru, the Kernel called on me to make sum remarks, but I telled him "I didn't cum there to say enything, but only to listen, an to see ef I could larn enough of what was goin on to complete the message." They all set in then, especially Seward, an sed I must give my impreshins, ef nothin more. "Wal," I telled 'em, "ef I sed enything I should be jest as blunt as a pump-handle, an they mustn't take no offence; an that so far as I was consarned, I might jest as well go to a singin school to larn to dance as to have cum here to find enything about the state of the country. Every one of 'em seemed to be thinkin about himself, an nothin about the country. Because they drew their salary regularly, an had enough to eat and drink, they thought nobody was hurt. I telled 'em that I guessed they all had on 'Glorification Spectacles,' an that everything was magnified to 'em. Then I sed that jest what the Kernel wanted to know to put in his message was, how many sojers we had, an how much they were costin; an how many sailyurs we had, an how many ships, an how much they cost. Then I telled 'em that the people would like to know how many poor fellers had lost their lives sence the war begun; how many had been crippled, &c., &c.; an how much the debt would be after we all got thru; an finally, what great good we had got by it all." Here Chase spoke up. Ses he, "We'll establish freedom an restore the Union." "Wal," ses I, "ef you want four millions of niggers to take keer of, you're welcome to 'em, but as for restorin the Union by war, so far it's jest been like climbin a greased pole; as fast as you climb up you slip back, an," ses I, "it will be so to the eend of the chapter, unless I'me mistaken." Ses Chase, ses he, "The Majer is disloyal." Wen he sed that I jumped rite up with my hickory, an ses I, "Ain't your name Salmon?" Ses he, "Yes." "Wal," ses I, "it won't be long if you don't take that back." I never see a feller look so scart. Ses he, "Majer, I didn't mean eny offence, an so I'll take it back, for I think you mean well." I telled him "that I didn't allow enybody to say or to intimate that I warnt a friend to the Constitushin and the Union."
The Kernel here spoke an sed that his Cabbynet was a good deal like old Josh Pendleton's boys out in lower Illinoy. They allers cum hum every New Years to see the old man an have a talk of old times, but afore they got thru they allers had a regular fite. So he thought he'd adjurn the Cabbynet for fear there would be a scrimmage here.
Then they all took their departure, an the messige ain't no nearer done than ever. The Kernel an I have set up nite after nite, an drank old rye, but it is no use, we can't get it in ship-shape form. The Kernel ses he guesses he will jest get the messige out in rough and send it into Congris, an let Sumnure, Chandler, Lovejoy an Thad Stevens lick it into shape.
Yourn till deth,
Majer Jack Downing.
LETTER XXII.
The Message Finished—Mr. Sumner says it is not Grammatical—The Major's Excuse—Mr. Sumner Finds Fault with the Major's Spelling—The Major Stumps Him—He Gives His Views on "Edication"—Mr. Lincoln Proposes a Connundrum—The Major Tells a Story—Mr. Seward's Opinion on the War.
Washington, Dec. 6th, 1862.
To the Editers of The Cawcashin:
Surs:—Wal, I'm glad to say that Congriss has got together, an the Messige has been red an digested. He wouldn't let Seward or Chase have enything to do with it, but he jest mauled it all out himself. The next day arter the Messige was sent in, Sumnure cum in an sed the Messige warn't exactly grammatikal in all its parts. I telled him that "I guessed ef he had to work around short corners as the Kernel did, without gettin tripped up, he would find it mity hard work to get everything jest according to grammer." I telled him "grammer warn't of eny ackount wile the rebellyun lasted—that, like the Constitushin, the grammer was suspended, or locked up where habus korpus couldn't get at it. In fact," ses I, "Mr. Sumnure, I think that eny man who talks about its bein necessary to obsarve the laws of grammer, or any other laws, wen a nashin is in a deth struggle with traiturs, is a disloyal person, an orter to be sent to Fort La Fieit." Wen I sed this, Sumnure turned all sorts of colors, an ses he, "Wal, Majer, perhaps you're rite about grammer; but I think you orter spell the President's name rite in your letters. It's a disrespect to the Cheef Majestrate not to do it." "Wal," ses I, "Mr. Sumnure, I've got my own idees on spellin. Spellin is a good deel like sparkin the gals—it's jest as a feller takes a noshin. My idee is, ef I spell a word so as to git its sound, I'm rite, an I don't keer wat you say, it's the only rule of spellin that holds good in the long run. Now," ses I, "ef L-i-n-k-i-n don't spell Linkin, what on arth does it spell?" That seemed to stump him. "But," ses he, "Majer, there's some ginneral rules that orter be observed—rules that the schools all use." "Wal," ses I, "I don't know much about schools, an I guess the Kernel don't nether. I went to school six weeks, an the Kernel ses he went six months. School larnin is mity poor truck to put into a feller's hed onless he's got a good deal of brains there. There's more edicated fools now in the world than there are fools of eny other kind, an there's a great menny of them, Lord knows. And," ses I, "it's those edicated fools that make all the trubbil."
"Why, Majer," ses he, "you ain't an enemy to edication, I hope."
"Wal, no, Mr. Senator, I ain't no enemy to edication; I only hate edicated fools."
Ses he, "Majer, what do you mean by edicated fools?"
"Wal," ses I, "wen I was a boy, an went to school the six weeks I speak of, there was a boy in my class who could beat me a spellin an readin, an in eenamost everything, but I could lick him jest as easy as I could whistle. He hadn't eny more spunk, or pluck, or courage than a sick kitten, an mighty little genewine common sense. His father, however, sent him to college, an the fust thing I heerd of him, the papers were callin him a larned man, an he ain't done enything ever sence but to blab at Abolishin meetins an make Abolishin speeches. Now," ses I, "that's wat I call an edicated fool. Jest like the larned pig, he can do wat he larns to do or sees done; but as for real common sense to tell wether a thing is rite or rong, he ain't worth eny more for it than a bull-dog is to catch rats."
Sumnure looked kinder streaked wen I sed this, but I didn't say a word, an jest here the Kernel, who had been down stairs to get his boot-jack, cum in. Ses he, "Good mornin, Mr. Sumnure. I'll bet you one of Chase's greenbacks," ses he, "that you can't tell why this boot-jack is like an offis-seeker." Sumnure sed he couldn't. "Wal," ses the Kernel, "because it sticks close to the heels of the Presidint."
I telled the Kernel how that Sumnure sed that the Messige warn't grammatikal. "Wal," ses he, "I beleeve everything goes rong sence I became Presidint. The country is upside down; the niggers are more trubbul than ever before; the white men are cuttin one another's throats, an it seems as if Bedlam was let loose; an now the grammer has been violated, they say. Wal, I wonder wat on arth I am fit for. I never succeeded well in flat-botein; I allers had poor craps wen I tried to be a farmer; I was too tall to split rails handy; and, as a lawyer, I warn't enything more than from poor to middlin. Ef I can't be Presidint, I don't see wat on arth I was made for."
"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, perhaps you are like the old Quaker's dog." Ses he, "How was that, Majer?" "Wal," ses I, "I'll tell you the story. Up in Maine, not far from Downingville, there used to live an old Quaker named Hezekiah Peabody. He had a yaller dog that was allus loungin around the house. One day Sol Hopkins, a rough old feller, cum along, an ses he, 'Mr. Peabody, I want a dog to hunt foxes. Do you think your dog is good for foxes?' 'Now,' ses the Quaker, 'neighbor Solomon, I never tried the dog on foxes for the huntin of any animals is not my business; but if thee wishes a dog for foxes, accordin to the Scripters, this dog must be a good dog for foxes.' 'Wal, will you warrant him a good dog for foxes?' 'I cannot do that, neighbor Solomon, for I never tried him on foxes; but, accordin to the Scripters, thee can be sure the dog is good for foxes.' So old Sol, thinkin that Scripter proof must be good, give the Quaker five dollars for the dog. He took him hum, an the next day he saw a fox runnin across one of his lots. So he called the dog an showed him the fox, but he wouldn't stir an inch after him. This made old Sol terribul mad, an the next day he took the dog back to the Quaker, an ses he, in his rough way: 'Mr. Peabody, this dog is not worth a dam!' 'Tut, tut, neighbor Solomon, thee shouldn't speak profanely with thy lips.' 'That may be,' ses old Sol, 'but didn't you tell me that this dog was good for foxes.' 'No, neighbor Solomon, I think not. I said accordin to Scripters hemustbe good for foxes.' 'Wal,' ses old Sol, 'how do you make that out?' 'Wal, neighbor, the Scripters say, "that there is nothin made in vain,"an as I had tried that dog on everything else except fox-huntin, I thought that that must be what he was made for!' "Now," ses I, "Kernel, I hope it won't turn out that you are like the old Quaker's dog, 'made in vain,' or, as old Sol. Hopkins expressed it, 'not worth a d——!' but," ses I, "ef you don't restore this Union before your term expires, the people will think that you were a good deal worse than the Quaker's dog, for if he warn't good for enything, he didn't do any particular harm."
The Kernel didn't seem to like this story much, for ses he, "Majer, I think you are getin kinder personel." Ses I, "No, Kernel; I don't mean to be, but you know stories sometimes will fit closer than you think for when you begin to tell 'em."
Jest here Seward cum in, an with his church-yard smile, ses he, "Good mornin, Mr. President. I've got good news from England. There won't be any intervenshin now, an the rebellyun will all be over in 60 days. My friend Weed thinks so, too."
"What's up, Boss?" ses Linkin. That's the name he calls Seward by. "Oh," ses he, rubbin his hands, "don't you see by the papers what a large amount of money the merchants in York are subscribin for the poor, patient, starving English workmen. God bless 'em." Here Seward drew a deep sigh, and then ses he, "It will produce such a good effect in England! Intervenshin is dead. The rebellyun is crushed, an all by this grand an noble idee of mine to feed the starvin poor. What filanthropy will do, when it is done right!" An here Seward commenced rubbin his hands an walkin about the room, an actin like a gal that is jest goin to get married. I didn't say enything, an the Kernel didn't say enything either, an it warn't a minut afore Seward dodged out of the door as quick as he cum in. After he hed gone, ses I, "Kernel, how many times has Seward hed the rebellyun suppressed?" "Oh," ses he, "he goes to sleep every night with the sartin belief that the Union will be restored by daylight; that Jeff Davis will be hanging on a sour apple tree by noon, an that he will be elected next President by sundown." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I think you've got a queer cabinet." "Yes," ses he, "that I have. Seward thinks that his ritin letters to Europe is goin to overthrow the rebellyun. Chase thinks it can't be done, except by his greenbacks an freein the niggers. Old grandfather Welles is sure that there is nothin will restore the Union except his gunboats; while Blair feels sure that he kin do it by stoppin Dimmecratic papers!" Ses I, "Why don't you change 'em?" "Wal," ses he, "what's the use of swappin jackets? There ain't nothin to be made by it. No, I won't change my Cabynet onless I'm druv to it. It's bad enough now, but Lord only knows what it might be ef I ondertake to change it."
I was in hopes I could induce Linkin to put in some new men, an get out Chase, Seward, Stantin an Blair. But it's no use. So we shall jog along after the old fashion. Where we shall be in the spring no one kin tell. Congriss has gone to work in arnest to fix up the financies, an to take keer that the Dimmecrats don't sue Linkin for suspendin the habus korpus. The filanthropists are also bizzy, an they are goin to give all the niggers here a Christmas dinner, which, I suppose, is expected to last 'em the year round. Eatin like a Turk one day an starvin 364, is, accordin to my idees, a poor way of livin.
Yours, till deth,
Major Jack Downing.