DESERVED COMPLIMENT ON MR. VAN BUREN'S EXPLOIT OF THE FLORIDA WAR—THE AFFAIR OF THE TRUE GRITS AND SERGEANT TRAP—TRUE GRITS SUFFER A DEFEAT—FLAN SUCKER'S OPINION UPON THE SUBJECT—HIS ACCOUNT OF AN ACTION AT LAW BETWEEN JOE SNARE AND IKE SWINGLETREE.
Just at this period the True Grits once more began to give themselves airs of importance in Quodlibet. The Tigertail affair had stunned them, as a blow sometimes torpifies a snake; and like that same snake, which after a long period of consequent inactivity wakes up in the possession of new powers of mischief, so woke up the True Grits.
The Florida war, which has been raging on the part of the Indians, and simmering on our part, for nearly five years past, is undoubtedly the greatest of all Mr. Van Buren's exploits, and that which will be longest remembered in the history of this energetic President by posterity. It has developed the genius of our New-Light Democratic administration in stronger colors, and speaks more conclusively in favor of the perseverance and resource of our Great Chief, than any other of the numerous brilliant acts whereby he has illustrated the principles of that unterrified and unflinching Democracy, to whom fortune and General Jackson in partnership, have intrusted the destiniesof this Republic. That war was not only the most righteous and unavoidable in its origin, but it has also been the most chivalrous in its character, the most economical in its management, and is likely to be the most productive in its results—if it should ever please Bill Jumper, or Sam Jones, or Micanopy, or their heirs and representatives, to allow it to come to a conclusion—that has ever been waged between two great nations; and will unquestionably cover our Commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States with as thick a coat of glory as it has already covered the bravest and keenest-nosed of our bloodhounds with a coat of mud:—and that is, perhaps, about as thick a covering as a hero of the President's mould might be supposed able to stagger under, in that long journey of fame by which he is to march down to after-times.
Among other vigorous measures taken in the prosecution of this stupendous war, was one that produced no small sensation in Quodlibet. A tall, raw-boned, slender, and very straight figure of a man, of a singularly red head and remarkably freckled face—the said figure being decked in a suit of army regimentals highly bedizened with worsted lace and cord, begirt with a huge saber, and wearing a plume three feet long—made its appearance recently in the Borough. This personage rejoiced in the name and title of Sergeant Trap. He was accompanied by a drummer four feet six inches high, of a remarkably fierce military aspect; and by a fifer six feet four, quite as remarkable for the length of his arms and legs, and the shortness of his sleeves and pantaloons—both inferring, from their general effect upon his exterior, a rustical and imbellicose mode of life which reluctantly accommodated itself to the military requisitions of his station.
The Sergeant and drummer were strangers to our folks; but the fifer was no other than Charley Moggs, long known as the boss loafer of Bickerbray, and who was famed for asingleaccomplishment—the perfection with which he executed, upon an octave flute, that difficult but favorite piece of music which goes by the name of "Sugar in a Gourd;" which accomplishment was the foundation of his present astonishing promotion under Sergeant Trap, who had come to Quodlibet, in pursuance of orders from Mr. Poinsett, to pick up as many spare heroes for the Florida war, as might be found in our environs, willing to dog the Indians in company with our gallant blood-hound allies lately arrived from Cuba.
The Sergeant took a small frame house next door to Sim Travers's Refectory—or rather, as Sim called it, his Drinkery. Here he hung out the stars and stripes, by a pole which was secured in the second story window, and from which the flag vibrated in graceful undulations, almost sweeping the street when the wind lulled, and filling the hearts of Sim Travers's customers with emotions of martial glory.
Now, Sergeant Trap had not the good fortune to be a New Light; but, on the contrary, had the misfortune to be perfectly neutral in politics—and, coupled with that, the additional misfortune to be sometimes in want of money. In the course of some two or three weeks residence in the Borough, he had contracted a sort of intimacy with Peter Ounce, the landlord of The Boatman's Hotel at the upper end, and on the oppositeside of the Basin. This intimacy mainly grew out of the circumstance that Ounce's hotel furnished very pleasant quarters to the Sergeant, and had also contributed some five or six recruits to his standard. Peter Ounce, although a Whig, is a kind-hearted, sociable man, and disposed to make friendships with those about him; and the Sergeant having run up a score at the bar, fell into the relation of a debtor to Peter, which it was not always convenient for him, at a moment, to obliterate. Besides this, Sergeant Trap had, once or twice, borrowed small sums from the landlord, and received from him sundry manifestations of good-will, which laid him, in a certain sense, under obligations to Peter. The result of it all was, that the Sergeant took a great liking to his landlord—and, following the suggestions of that feeling, rather encouraged his men, when they had a little money to spend in slaking their thirst, to throw it in the way of Ounce.
This state of things existed for some time before it was brought into public observation. Ounce's liquors were good and cheap, the company about his hotel was jovial, and Peter himself obliging—in consequence of all which Sergeant Trap's men went as often to the Boatman's Hotel as they did to Sim Travers's Drinkery, which was next door to the rendezvous. Sim Travers, who always kept a sharp eye to his business, was the first to notice the visits of Trap's men to his rival's bar, and for some time he bore it with a sulky and uneasy silence. After awhile, sundry inarticulate murmurs escaped him denoting vexation; and at length he openly began to shake his head and talk aboutthe dutyof soldiers and officersin the employof the Government. "Wework for the Government," said he, "and the Government ought to work forus. If public moneyisto be laid out, them that goes through fire and water has the best claim. These Whigs are ready enough to touch the cash when there's profit to be got; while them that sticks by Government in all their eternal choppings and changings is to be lookers-on. To the Wieters belongs the Spiles; if that ain't a motter, what's the use of having it? Go it full, or give it up—that's what I say."
Sim continued to repeat these sentiments for some time, without seeing things alter for the better. Peter Ounce still continued to divide the profits of the rendezvous with him. At last Sim became violent. "I'll make it a committee matter," said be. Thereupon he went immediately to Eliphalet Fox, and opened to him his whole burden of grievances. "I'll fix it," replied Fox, very much in the tone of a man of business; and Sim went home in excellent spirits.
The next Whole Hog had a paragraph touching this subject. "If," said that paper, "there be one principle which has been more sacredly established than any other by that great revolution through which we have just conducted the nation, in redeeming it from the oppressions of Monopolists and Privileged orders, it is the deep and fundamental truth that, To those who have won the victory belong its fruits. The Democracy have an unalienable and indefeasible right to all emoluments, issues, and profits accruing from the expenditures of the public money. And, moreover, if there be any class of persons who emphaticallybelongto the Government, it is the men who are enlisted forthe Florida war. Few of them are destined ever to return again to the character of citizens: theirlivesare undoubtedly the property of the administration, as every man must see who reflects upon the history of that war. And if theirlivesare thus devoted to the cause of the administration, much more, may it be said, are theirlittle gainsto be employed in the same cause. Notwithstanding this self-evident truth, we know of men now in this Borough, wearing the livery of the Government, who do not scruple to enrich the coffers of the British Whigs with the money lavished upon them by the bounty of the Government, and which has been wrung from the sweat of the poor man's brow. We trust we shall be understood, without being more explicit. If this abuse continue after this hint, we shall act in a more efficient form:—a word to the wise."
Notwithstanding this very significant paragraph, and the fact that the paper containing it was sent to the rendezvous, and even addressed to Sergeant Trap by name, the practice complained of was in no degree corrected. On the contrary, as if from sheer perverseness and contumacy, the evil, if anything, was rather increased. Eliphalet Fox waited a few days to see how his paragraph worked. Sim Travers came to him with a face now much more in anger than in grief. "It doesn't work at all," said Eliphalet, adverting to his paragraph, and anticipating Sim's complaint. "Never mind, my friend," continued he, "this ismyquarrel. Go home: leave all to me!"
Sim went home, confident that he should have ample redress. "If I don't get it," said he, as he walkedtoward the Drinkery, ruminating over his wrongs, "blow me if I don't quit the party. I'm not one of them fools to go thorough-stitch, and get nothing for it—blow me!"
"I'll see justice done to Sim Travers," said Eliphalet Fox, with an atrabilious look, when he was left alone, "or die in the attempt—blast me!"
After this blowing and blasting, Sim went about the Borough telling every man of the persecution he was suffering from the Whigs; and Eliphalet Fox went about to get up the old Tigertail Convention and bring the matter before them.
The next evening the convention met, and a Secret Committee was raised with instructions to write alettre de cachetto the President, explaining the flagitious conduct of Sergeant Trap, and demanding his immediate dismissal from the army. This letter was written by Eliphalet Fox, and was signed by him and William Goodlack, besides Sim Travers and Thomas Crop the constable, which two latter made their mark—these four being the Secret Committee. The letter was duly dispatched to Washington to be presented by the Hon. Middleton Flam, who wasrequiredby the committee to render this service, from a suspicion that at bottom he was not very favorable to the True Grits. "Catch a weasel asleep!" said our worthy representative when this letter reached him. "Gentlemen, I'll do your bidding, by all means." And so, being wide awake, and fully determined to give the True Grits no cause of complaint against him, he went straight with thelettre de cachetto the President. In a few days the committee received a letter from Mr. Flam, informingthem he had done everything they had demanded: that the President had read their confidential communication, and without hesitation replied, that if Sergeant Trap had been acivilofficer, he would have dismissed him without further inquiry, in deference to the respectability of the committee;—but that, as Sergeant Trap belonged to thearmy, he found himself reluctantly compelled to proceed in a more formal manner, and that consequently he should direct a Military Court of Inquiry to take cognizance of the case: that this Court would sit in Quodlibet where the prosecutors were requested to be ready to prove the enormities alleged against Sergeant Trap.
"A Court of Inquiry!" exclaimed Fox, with great emotion. "Is the thing to be made public? We are deceived, betrayed:—I know by whom," he added, significantly nodding his head.
"A Court of Inquiry!—proofs, and all riglar—upon oath?" exclaimed Sim Travers.
"I'm blest if I go before any court!" said Tom Crop.
"By blazes, I won't!" said Billy Goodlack. "There'ssomethingin this here thing—else why don't the President go smack forward on the letter?"
"I'm no prosecutor," said Eliphalet Fox.
"I'm not a persecutor, nother," said Tom Crop. "By blood! I scorn it."
"I'm not going to put my hand on the book, upon it," said Sim Travers. "If a man can't lodge a complaint without being hauled into court, the party's broke: a fig for the money! who cares about it?"
"That's my identical sentiment!" said Billy Goodlack. "By blazes, I'm no prosecutioner!"
The committee was certainly thrown into great consternation. The cause of this is said to have been that in representing the case of Sergeant Trap to the President by letter, upon which they expected an immediate order dismissing the offender from service, they had charged him with a long list of misdemeanors against the welfare of the Great New-Light Democratic Party; which they knew, in the first place, had no sort of foundation in fact, and therefore might be found extremely difficult of proof; and the attempt to investigate which, in the second place, they were aware might bring the True Grits into collision with each other in a manner not very conducive to the harmony of the party. They were, therefore, not a little thrown aback when they were apprised of the President's determination to make the charges a subject of inquiry.
We cannot sufficiently commend Mr. Van Buren's caution in this matter, and the sound New-Light Democratic view he took of the subject. Here was a grave charge preferred against one of his own servants, imputing to him a disposition to deal with Whigs—nay, anactualdealing with them, when there was a New Light to be found in the same town capable of furnishing the same commodity. Doubtless, upon this nefarious transaction being fully proved, Mr. Van Buren, like a genuine, unadulterated Quod, as he is, would dismiss the offender from service, or even inflict on him other punishment, if it fell in his way. But in so serious a case he was determined not to be premature in his action: he would not proceed—unless, indeed, the offender had been a civil officer—upon such testimony as the confidential letter of a committee. Hetakes the only just course—(in this I have reason to believe he was fully seconded, perhaps even prompted, by our sagacious representative, the Hon. Middleton Flam)—and that is a formal, solemn, judicial inquiry into the conduct of Sergeant Trap, to ascertain whether hereally hadpurchased liquors to the prejudice of the Great New-Light Quodlibetarian Democratic Party. Truly have we reason, day by day, to rejoice in a President of such magnanimity, such justice, such innate republicanism, and withal such dignity!
The Court of Inquiry met. It was composed of officers of high rank. After a long and patient investigation, and the most accurate ascertainment of the number of gills of rum, whisky, and brandy sold to Trap's recruits by Sim Travers, and by Peter Ounce, and a careful arithmetical computation of the value thereof in money; and, after a laborious examination into Sim Travers's politics, as also into those of Peter Ounce, the trial resulted in the conclusion that Sim Travers was not so good a New Light as he professed to be, (this was founded on evidence that Sim had said "he would leave the party if he couldn't get his share of spiles,") and that Peter Ounce's politics were, in fact, not known to Sergeant Trap at the time he dealt with him: whereupon Trap was acquitted of each and every charge brought against him; although Theodore Fog, the Counsel for the Secret Committee, took upon himself to inform the Sergeant, somewhat authoritatively, that as he was now aware of the dangerous tendency of Ounce's principles, the President would expect him to close all accounts at the said Peter's bar, and to be more circumspect the next time.
It was generally admitted, and indeed was the common talk of the Borough, that in this notable trial Eliphalet Fox dodged, that Billy Goodlack dodged, that Sim Travers dodged, and that Tom Crop actually skulked. And the general effect of the whole was to cut the combs of the True Grits so thoroughly, that it is believed they will never rise again. Flan Sucker made a jest of this, very much to the annoyance of his friends—for Flan had taken a violent fancy to Sergeant Trap, and even at one time, it was supposed, had an idea of enlisting. He used to sit up with the Sergeant of nights and drink a good deal with him through the day, and by this means very naturally became quite a crony. He therefore exulted much more than a True Grit, it was conceived, ought, at the Sergeant's triumphant acquittal. "Sargeant Trap," said he, "Locumsgillied Liphlet Fox;" and as this expression requires an explanation, he gave it, to this effect.
"Joe Snare, the bailiff over here in Tumbledown, fotch a suit before Squire Honeywell, agin Ike Swingletree for twenty-five dollars, on a cart which Joe sold him. Joe drawed up a note of hand for Ike to sign, which Ike did; and Ike never thought no more about it. Joe kept askin' for his money, year after year, year after year, tell at last he got tired, and so fotch the suit. Ike found out at the trial that the Squire was goin' to give judgment agin him; so what does he do but sashrary the case!—whereby the case was tuck up to the Court. Well, when they came on to trial there, Ike had a lawyer who found out that the note of hand was more than three years old, and there hadn't been no promise to pay in the mean time. Thereupon the Court told Joe Snare, if he hadn't nothing to say agin' it, they must give judgment for Ike on the Statute of Lamentations. Is it that, your honor? said Snare—for Joe being bailiff was pretty well up to law, and pled his own cause;—well, may it please your honor, maybe the statue is agin me, but, your honor, I drawed up the note of hand myself, and if you'll just be so kind to look in the corner under the dog's-ear, you'll see two letters at the eend of Ike Swingletree's name tantamount to L. S., which, as I understand, your honor, goes forLocumsgilly—whereby it takes twelve years, if I'm not mistaken, to kill the note of hand, bekase that's a bond. The judge looked and looked, and then sot up a laugh; and Ike Swingletree began to turn a little pale. Joe, says the judge, you're right, says he: that alters the case, and you must have the judgment. Joe, says he, you have beaten the lawyer and his client both—you're a clever fellow, and will get your money. So Joe accordingly got the judgment, and came off mightily pleased. And when he was tellin' me about the matter next day, he burst out in a great haw-haw, and couldn't hardly talk for laughing: Ike Swingletree, said he, sashrariedme, but I reckon I Locumsgilliedhim.
"Well, that's just what Sergeant Trap has done to Liphlet Fox—Locumsgilliedhim beautiful."
THESE CHRONICLES DRAW TO A CLOSE—THE NEW LIGHTS NOT DISPLEASED WITH ELIPHALET FOX'S DISCOMFITURE—PASSAGE OF THE INDEPENDENT TREASURY BILL, AND REJOICING THEREON IN QUODLIBET—CHANGES—INTERESTING LETTER FROM THE DIBBLE FAMILY—MR. FLAM RETURNS TO QUODLIBET—HIS VIEWS OF THE CANVASS—THE PRESIDENT'S RELIANCE ON THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE PEOPLE—IGNOMINY AND INSULT OF FEDERALISM—ELECTIONS IN KENTUCKY, INDIANA, AND NORTH CAROLINA—ALABAMA, MISSOURI, AND ILLINOIS—PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION—CONSTERNATION OF THE QUODS—MEETING OF THE CLUB—QUARREL OF THEODORE FOG AND HON. MIDDLETON FLAM—DEFECTION OF FOG AND SUNDRY TRUE GRITS—SECOND SPLIT—GREAT UPROAR AND CONFUSION.
My patient and indulgent reader will doubtless agree with me that it is time these gossiping chronicles were brought to a close. Indeed, I am so near upon the heels of the day in which I write, and the printer so near upon mine, that little remains to be said. I shall therefore dispatch what remains of my memoranda with such speed as shall suit my reader's longing for the end.
Although the New Lights in general bore no ill-will against that division or faction which has been distinguished in these pages by the name of True Grits, yet I must say we were not wholly displeased at the result of Serjeant Trap's trial. On the contrary, many of us chuckled in secret thereat. Eliphalet Fox we have ever acknowledged to be a useful man and azealous—and we have not been backward to award him such meed as he deserved. But it must be told that in Eliphalet there lurks a scantling of ambition to climb higher on the ladder than our party is yet willing to afford to one of his degree. And Eliphalet moreover is suspected—Heaven forfend that I should do him wrong!—in regard to the Hon. Middleton Flam our representative, and those who are not altogether well disposed toward him, I mean Theodore Fog's adherents, (for it is manifest Theodore is looking to a seat in Congress,) utrosque parietes linere, as the Latin proverb has it, which in the vernacular signifies to wear two faces—by no means an uncommon, though a very objectionable sin in political affairs. This may be a groundless suspicion, as I would fain hope it is; but it is believed by many, and therefore the more reason was there for some secret rejoicing in Quodlibet at Eliphalet's failure in the matter of Sim Travers. It unquestionably hath made our editor of the Whole Hog more modest and seemly in his behavior of late.
The course of the canvass has been growing every day more and more intensely interesting to our New Lights; and, bating some few aberrations into which we have fallen, daily gives us greater promise of the consummation of all our wishes. The passage of the Independent Treasury bill has brought us fresh occasion of rejoicing and confidence. After a long, and, as Tom Crop says, a bloody struggle, lo! it is at last the law of the land, and all our wishes are crowned. "It is," as Mr. Flam has declared, "the unmingled, unaided, spontaneous result of popular sagacity—springing not from executive dictation, nor the influence of party discipline, but from the intuitive and instinctive wisdom of millions of freemen ground to the dust by the tyrannical pressure of associated wealth. It is the law of the land in spite of the groans of merchants, the wailings of agriculturists, and the murmurs of mechanics. It seals the fortune of our great chief, and proclaims the immortal triumph of the New-Light Democracy."
When the tidings of this joyful event reached us in Quodlibet, our first care was to fire one hundred guns; the next was to illuminate the Borough, and to bring out all our flags and lanterns; after this the New Lights were called together in the Court-House, where addresses were delivered by Agamemnon Flag and Theodore Fog—the latter of whom actually outdid himself in an effort that would have exalted the fame of Patrick Henry; and to close this jubilee, the Central Committee passed a resolution declaring the bill the Second Declaration of Independence. For this brilliant series of events we have to thank that sturdy devotion to State Rights which shone with such conspicuous luster in the annihilation of New Jersey by the New Lights, in the House of Representatives. But for that glorious stroke of policy the bill would again have been crushed by the serpent of opposition. Now that we have gained it, British Federal Whiggery is forever prostrate.
A fortnight after this event brought us the cheering tidings from Louisiana, to which many an anxious eye had been turned. The elections there have resulted in a splendid victory—a victory, indeed, not indicated bythe polls, where the majority wasseeminglyincreased against us—but manifested in the spirit with which our people everywhere received the tidings. Until this spirit became manifest, it might be said our hopes were even wavering; but forthwith an unwonted confidence in our success has spread abroad. The sagacious Mr. Doubleday, whose face may be called the barometer of our party, and to whom we all look for predictions of the future, now wears a countenance wreathed in smiles, and tells us that, from what he knows of the changeableness of that State, "we may make ourselves altogether certain of the victory in the fall."
In running over the events of the day, nothing is more deserving of our animadversion than the ostentatious display, by the British Federal Tory Whigs, of thechangesamong the people against the New-Light Democracy;—as if here and there the change of some recreant Democrat, who is afraid to follow his leader and chooses to have opinions of his own, could stay the mighty torrent of attachment to the fortunes of our chief. We do not deny these changes; but rather rejoice that men, so little worthy of being called true Quods, should leave our standard to the tried soldiers who have marched behind it in all its vicissitudes, and fought its battles through the whole field of political experiment. By such only can our glorious cause be upheld. But we can recount changes as well as they.
I might select thousands from our newspapers; and I forbear to do so only because I think it unworthy of the good sense of a Quod to parade the names of converts to our party; thus assimilating, as it were, thepeople to a flock of sheep, and expecting that more will follow because many have gone before.
There is, however, one case which I am sure I shall be excused for bringing before my reader. It is that of the Dibble family of Wisconsin. It was brought to the notice of our Central Committee by Zachary Younghusband, who came into possession of the original manuscript through a brother Postmaster, Mr. Straddle, who resides in the neighborhood of the converted family, and who, in fact, was the amanuensis used upon the occasion. Our committee thought this document of sufficient importance to be copied into the Whole Hog; from whence it is likely to be transferred into every New-Light Democratic paper of the country. It certainly exhibits very conclusive as well as very abundant reasons for change; and may be said to contain the best epitome of the popular objections of the New Lights to the election of General Harrison which has yet appeared in print. An aged and widowed father with five sons—all heretofore steeped to the lips in the slough of British Whiggery—have had the independence to rise, in the majesty of freemen, and boldly assert the highest prerogative of an American citizen—the right of thinking, speaking, and voting in such manner as a patriotic, disinterested New-Light Postmaster, whose opinions are above all suspicion, might direct them. The letter of this never-sufficiently-to-be-admired family will speak for itself. I have only to remark that, in transcribing it, I have taken the liberty to correct, what indeed I must call, some glaring faults in the orthography—which are to be attributed solely to Mr. Straddle, the Postmaster, whoreduced the instrument to writing, and who, by-the-by, let me say, should be advised to give more of his attention to the useful art of spelling—but in no other point altering word, syllable, or letter.
It it is somewhat fancifully headed
"GO IT, YE CRIPPLES!"This is to give notice, that we who have put our sign-manuals to the foot thereof, being till now snorting Whigs, having heard our Postmaster, Clem Straddle, Esq., say that he knows General Harrison sold five white men as slaves off his plantation, andisfor abolition, and whipped four naked women on their bare backs, andisfor imprisonment for debt, and moreoverisfor making a King, and goes for raising the expenses of the Government up to fifteen millions, andisa coward and wears petticoats, andiskept in a cage, and wants to reduce wages, and for that purpose is a going to have a standing army of two hundred thousand men, which our free and independent spirits won't bear, and wants to give the public money, which comes from the sweat of our brows, and public lands, to Sam Swartout and Price, and a gang of British Whigs, which we consider against the Constitution, and moreover we don't believe he won't answer, and has got no principles excepting them what he used to have, and is against the Independent Treasury which was signed Fourth of July, whereby it is the Declaration of Independence; and the aforesaid Clem Straddle, Esq., which writeth this for us and in our names, being against all office-holders which the British Whigsis a striving after, and tells us to vote for Van Buren, we being an affectionate father and five orphan children without any mother, and never had any since infancy, make known that in the next Presidential election in this Territory, if we had a vote, and if not we shall vote in Missouri, we goes against Tip. and Ty. and all that disgusting mummery of Log Cabins, Hard Cider, Coonskins, Possums, and Gourds, in regard of their lowering morals, and goes for Jackson, Hickory Poles, Whole Hogs, and Van Buren, as witness our hands and seals.Malachi+hismarkDibble, Parent.Washington+hismarkDibbleJefferson+hismarkDibbleMadison DibbleFayette DibbleSquintus Curtius+hismarkDibble"Note.—Washington and Jefferson is voters, Madison and Fayette is at school, and signs for themselves, and Squintus Curtius is rising nine."
"This is to give notice, that we who have put our sign-manuals to the foot thereof, being till now snorting Whigs, having heard our Postmaster, Clem Straddle, Esq., say that he knows General Harrison sold five white men as slaves off his plantation, andisfor abolition, and whipped four naked women on their bare backs, andisfor imprisonment for debt, and moreoverisfor making a King, and goes for raising the expenses of the Government up to fifteen millions, andisa coward and wears petticoats, andiskept in a cage, and wants to reduce wages, and for that purpose is a going to have a standing army of two hundred thousand men, which our free and independent spirits won't bear, and wants to give the public money, which comes from the sweat of our brows, and public lands, to Sam Swartout and Price, and a gang of British Whigs, which we consider against the Constitution, and moreover we don't believe he won't answer, and has got no principles excepting them what he used to have, and is against the Independent Treasury which was signed Fourth of July, whereby it is the Declaration of Independence; and the aforesaid Clem Straddle, Esq., which writeth this for us and in our names, being against all office-holders which the British Whigsis a striving after, and tells us to vote for Van Buren, we being an affectionate father and five orphan children without any mother, and never had any since infancy, make known that in the next Presidential election in this Territory, if we had a vote, and if not we shall vote in Missouri, we goes against Tip. and Ty. and all that disgusting mummery of Log Cabins, Hard Cider, Coonskins, Possums, and Gourds, in regard of their lowering morals, and goes for Jackson, Hickory Poles, Whole Hogs, and Van Buren, as witness our hands and seals.
Malachi+hismarkDibble, Parent.
Washington+hismarkDibble
Jefferson+hismarkDibble
Madison Dibble
Fayette Dibble
Squintus Curtius+hismarkDibble
"Note.—Washington and Jefferson is voters, Madison and Fayette is at school, and signs for themselves, and Squintus Curtius is rising nine."
This letter, it will be admitted by all unprejudiced persons, bears the most expressive testimony to the natural and unsophisticated character of its authors; and furnishes us gratifying evidence that the great Reform, which it has been the labor of our committee to promote, has begun at the right end, and that the result must be the infallible and universal triumph of New-Light Democracy over the whole Union.
Upon the adjournment of Congress, late in July, the Hon. Middleton Flam returned to Quodlibet, to infuse new energy into our indefatigable committee. Through him we were apprised of many matters of deep interest touching the progress of the Campaign, which was now growing amazingly active. Being in the confidence of the President and Amos Kendall, he could tell us divers things which were not intrusted to the party at large; and let us into the secrets of the little and big wheels which were at work in Washington and other places.
These communications were generally of a character to increase the already sufficient confidence of the party in the re-election of the President, and still more, if possible, endear him to the multitudinous friends who expected, in that event, to receive the long-sought and well-earned rewards due to their personal devotion to his cause. Mr. Flam had surveyed the whole field of contest, and had arrived at an accuracy of information in regard to the vote of each State—and, indeed, of almost every county in the Union—that, to the unstudied in such matters, would appear to be miraculous—very little short of the gift of prophecy. It is astonishing to see what proficiency an old and practiced politician arrives at in predicting, months beforehand, the precise majorities of the Democratic party over all other parties, in every election, and especially in settling the result of a Presidential election. Our sagacious member on this occasion assured us, greatly to our exhilaration, that we should see, in the Western and Southern State elections which were about to take place, a most triumphant vindication of the administration, as well as a most conclusive evidence of the hold which the President has gained upon the affections of the people. "Indiana," he said, "is undoubtedly with us by an overwhelming majority; Kentucky is redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled, beyond a shadow of doubt—(a favorite oratorical expression of his;) and North Carolina is prepared to hurl the thunderbolts of her contemptuous scorn against British Whiggery, with the red right hand of an offended Jove. Depend upon what I tell you, gentlemen. I have carefully surveyed the field. I am not accustomed to speak without knowledge. I am never mistaken."
Assured and invigorated by these encouraging words, we accordingly wait with cheerful trust in the coming event.
Some nervous New Lights affect to see signs of alarm in the unwonted disquietude of the President. Rumors reach us that he does not sleep well; that he writes many letters, slightly variant in sentiment, to opposite sections of the Union; that he manifests symptoms of an over-excited zeal to demonstrate the exceedingly prosperous condition of the party. Besides this, the Vice-President, it is said, thinks it his duty "to take the stump," which is considered rather an ominous departure from "the usages of the Democratic party," and, in fact, is looked upon as a proof that our leaders are growing a little faint-hearted. But what can be more consistent with the principles and professions of the New-Light creed? Have we not exploded Mr. Jefferson's old and unprofitable notion, that the office-holders ought not to interfere with the freedom of the elective franchise? Is it not a fundamental point in our philosophy that the offices are "the spoils," and that the men who hold them owe it to themselves and their posterity to fight for them in every way known to Democratic warfare?—How appropriate then is it that our highest and greatest officers, having the largest stake, should be in the very front of the battle! Is it not especially incumbent on the President, being the illustrious head of the unterrified new Democracy, to show a laudable anxiety for the issues of the campaign, to write letters suited to every emergency, to rectify constitutional mistakes, and to mystify every unpleasant fact that might have a tendency to divide the party or discourage its hopes? If he did not diligently devote himself to such work he would not be worthy of that high place we have assigned him in the Quodlibetarian school.
Mr. Flam, moreover, assures us that the President has a profound faith in "the intelligence and firmness of the people," and is unwearied in his endeavors to make that clear to the most careless or indifferent observer. Mr. Flam himself urges it upon the Club as highly important; that we should give great prominence to this idea of an absolute belief in the intelligence of the people. He reminds us, that it is a cardinal maxim in the tactics of the New Lights, when a politician or a party is suspected of any unwholsome opinion, to repel the effect of this suspicion by frequent affirmation and repetition of words and sentiments which in the popular judgment shall be held to contradict it.
Another card in the game our member recommends on the same august authority: that is, to dwell persistently upon theFederalismof our opponents, and to speak of it, on all occasions, as a term of "ignominy and insult," by which, he says, many virtuous and innocent-minded Democrats may be beguiled into the belief that none of our chief and most authoritative leaders ever belonged to that venerable party which once gloried in the name of Federalists.
These and many other valuable suggestions were communicated by our Honorable Representative to the Club, as matters of moment in the conduct of our affairs.
It is wonderful to contemplate the influence of these master-minds upon our Quodlibetarian friends. The President scarcely drops a sentiment from his pen before it becomes as it were expanded into the common air of Democracy. The Globe usually leads off: the Whole Hog follows; and upon their heels the Scrutinizer, with all the rank and file of typographs, brings up a glorious chorus of repetition which leaves no hill or valley, mountain or plain in the whole land uninstructed in the Presidential utterances. Thus is it, even now, with this tribute to theintelligenceandfirmnessof the people, and this stigma ofignominyandinsultupon the old Federalists.
The Hon. Middleton Flam, Theodore Fog, Agamemnon Flag, and Zachary Younghusband, (for Zachary has turned orator of late,) and, without vaunting, I myself may say that the importance of the crisis has even, on same recent occasions, placed me in the same category—we all give breath to the same sentiment in speeches by day and by night, and "the same keynote," to quote a studied and prepared figure of speechfrom an admirable oration delivered last week by Agamemnon Flag in front of the Iron Railing—"The same key note of theIntelligence of the Peoplerings in the discourses of five thousand Orators, and jangles in twenty thousand resolutions of New-Light Democratic Clubs from the St. Croix to the Sabine; and through all the windings of its devious way theIgnominy and the Insult of Federalismmurmur on the ear in inseparable treble accompaniment."
We have just received in Quodlibet the news from Kentucky, Indiana, and North Carolina. We are lost in amazement! Our cause is no longer in doubt. Whatever misgivings we may have heretofore entertained, all have vanished. The majorities Mr. Doubleday accounts for in the most satisfactory manner,—and though ostensibly on the side of the British Whigs, they have yet been obtained in such a manner as to render us perfectly certain of success "in the Fall."
Nim Porter offers an even bet of one thousand dollars on the result, and is willing to increase it to ten.
Alabama, Illinois, and Missouri, arein, at the office of the Whole Hog. Eliphalet Fox is stark mad with delirious joy. To outward appearance something is gained by the enemy; but Mr. Doubleday says it is altogether illusory, and that, in fact, he has never beentruly confident until now. He repeats his assurance, that we must, from the signs, inevitably carry all before us "in the Fall."
Nim Porter is willing to double his bets.
Longo Intervallo.
The great election is over. Harrison is elected!!!
I can write no more at present. I crave time to compose myself.
Ten at Night.—The Club is in session. How blank, dreary, and long visaged!
We all feel the calamity, but say little.
Mr. Snuffers is terribly exercised. He thinks the catastrophe is to be attributed to that unhappy split of the party on the Iron Railing:—blames Theodore Fog for pressing that point too hard on Ag Flag and his friends.
Theodore Fog is greatly exasperated at this remark, and threatens to make a speech next week to explain his views: says he has known all along that Harrison would be elected,—adding, to the consternation of every one,—"AS HE DESERVED TO BE!" He affirms angrily, "no party could get on with thatABSURD(!)Two-Third's Rule, which," he says, "is a flagrant abnegation, repudiation, and fundamental and atrocious violation of the old, ancient, and veteran usages of the Democratic party." He adds, with extraordinarybitterness of expression and violence of gesticulation, pointing his finger at the Hon. Middleton Flam, who had just entered the club-room, "I can name the wr-r-retched intriguer who got it up. As Nathan said unto David—Thou art the man!"
Great confusion in the Club. Mr. Flam grows red in the face. Several members start from their seats. Mr. Flam shakes his fist at Theodore Fog, and calls himan Abolitionist! He would have uttered other epithets, but Mr. Doubleday catches him in his arms and holds his hand close over Mr. F.'s mouth. Fog fiercely retorts on Mr. Flam, and vociferates in the rudest tone—"Federalist!"—He jerks off his cravat in a highly exasperated manner, evidently threatening a personal assault. Nim Porter seizes him by the shoulders, and whirls him into a corner, ejaculating, "The., don't make a fool of yourself!"
The uproar is at its height, when Thomas G. Winkelman, with great presence of mind, blows out the lights. The consequence is, an abrupt adjournment and a hurried and excited departure of the members from the hall.
Next Morning.—All Quodlibet is in a state of unparalleled disorder. It is reported that Theodore Fog has gone over to Harrison. Many True Grits have taken the same path.
This is the second great Split of the Democratic party. The Hon. Middleton Flam says it cannot possibly stand a third.
Quis, talia fando, temperet a lachrymis!
Gentlereader, I have performed my covenant. Quod meum fuit præstiti. What content these chronicles, and the poor skill with which they are set forth, may have brought to our respectable committee, I am in no position to decide; since I know that an author is seldom honestly commended to his face. That there is division of opinion on this matter I am aware; for upon the reading at the last meeting on Wednesday night, I could not fail to observe certain signs of dissent, if not of displeasure, passing between Eliphalet Fox and Zachary Younghusband; andthatmore than once. But Mr. Flam, who has always shown himself a true friend and patron to me, took up my cause with such spirit and effect, being well supported by Mr. Doubleday and Mr. Snuffers, that a unanimous vote of approbation was finally passed by the committee. Thus sheltered under the shield of triple brass and tough bull hide of our Grand Central Committee, I cheerfully submit my labors to the judgment of the good folks of Quodlibet; promising, if they approve and should again call me to the desk, to contribute what my opportunity may allow to the better elucidation of their character, both social and public, wherein it is manifest an eager desire to be instructed hath lately grown up in this nation. Non sum qui oblivionis artem, quam memoriæ mallem.
SOLOMON SECONDTHOUGHTS,
Schoolmaster.
Transcriber's Note:"Flan", an abbreviation of "Flanigan", and "The", an abbreviation of "Theodore", are sometimes followed by a period, sometimes not.The following is a list of changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.InterlocutorsActors, etc. 21Interlocutors,Actors, etc. 21CHAPTERIXCHAPTERIX.CharleyMoggs—Boss loafer of Bickerbray, and promoted inCharleyMoggs.—Boss loafer of Bickerbray, and promoted in"My dearMiddleton,"read that," said the Judge."My dearMiddleton,read that," said the Judge.whom a more pellucid,diaphonous, transparent Secretarywhom a more pellucid,diaphanous, transparent SecretaryFlan.being found upon examination to be muddledFlan.,being found upon examination to be muddledthat Eliphalet Fox would run AugustusPosthlethwaitethat Eliphalet Fox would run AugustusPostlethwaiteourselves!"The Democracy of Quodlibet never willourselves!The Democracy of Quodlibet never willAwaiveof the hand and a bow showed that TheodoreAwaveof the hand and a bow showed that TheodoreLights. But theassuiditywith which we endeavoredLights. But theassiduitywith which we endeavoredtheMassissippi. And they say, moreover, that littletheMississippi. And they say, moreover, that littlecut ofDemocracy.cut ofDemocracy.""I'm not a persecutor, nother," said Tom Crop.By"I'm not a persecutor, nother," said Tom Crop."Byfirmnessof thepeeple, and this stigma ofignominyfirmnessof thepeople, and this stigma ofignominy
Transcriber's Note:
"Flan", an abbreviation of "Flanigan", and "The", an abbreviation of "Theodore", are sometimes followed by a period, sometimes not.
The following is a list of changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.
InterlocutorsActors, etc. 21Interlocutors,Actors, etc. 21
CHAPTERIXCHAPTERIX.
CharleyMoggs—Boss loafer of Bickerbray, and promoted inCharleyMoggs.—Boss loafer of Bickerbray, and promoted in
"My dearMiddleton,"read that," said the Judge."My dearMiddleton,read that," said the Judge.
whom a more pellucid,diaphonous, transparent Secretarywhom a more pellucid,diaphanous, transparent Secretary
Flan.being found upon examination to be muddledFlan.,being found upon examination to be muddled
that Eliphalet Fox would run AugustusPosthlethwaitethat Eliphalet Fox would run AugustusPostlethwaite
ourselves!"The Democracy of Quodlibet never willourselves!The Democracy of Quodlibet never will
Awaiveof the hand and a bow showed that TheodoreAwaveof the hand and a bow showed that Theodore
Lights. But theassuiditywith which we endeavoredLights. But theassiduitywith which we endeavored
theMassissippi. And they say, moreover, that littletheMississippi. And they say, moreover, that little
cut ofDemocracy.cut ofDemocracy."
"I'm not a persecutor, nother," said Tom Crop.By"I'm not a persecutor, nother," said Tom Crop."By
firmnessof thepeeple, and this stigma ofignominyfirmnessof thepeople, and this stigma ofignominy