* * * * *
* * * * *
"Olinska, the daughter of a noble Polish family, was deprived of her parents at an early age, and selected for her guardian the high-minded Countess Walewski. Her childish years were spent in Warsaw, the city of her forefathers; but the Countess was obliged to remain at St. Petersburg, being a member of the Czarina's household, and thither she called her ward, to be presented at court, and drown the memory of her sorrows in the gaieties of the capital.
"Young, beautiful and unsophisticated, chaperoned by an illustrious lady, and reputed to be heiress ofgreat wealth, the Polish maiden speedily became the magnet and toast of a brilliant circle, and a prize for which scores of young nobles contended. But the heart of Olinska was not to be purchased with titles, and while the scions of aristocracy knelt vainly at her feet, she bestowed her virgin affections upon Dimitri, whose silent homage defeated that of all others, with its proud, peculiar dignity. Military rank is esteemed by the Russians as little inferior to that of inheritance; yet they acknowledge a difference, and the line drawn between them by the usages of society cannot be overstepped with impunity. The young officer, although admitted into court circles, was aware of the distance between himself and the lady in a social sense; but the encouragement she gave him, so insensibly drew them together, that disparity of birth was forgotten, and love—the great leveller of conditions—reigned paramount.
"However misanthropically a man may express his indifference to the world's opinion, we are all, more or less, its most subservient slaves, and although Nicholas Dimitri assured his idol that the gossip of fashionables was nothing to him, he deemed it proper to solicit the kind offices of the Countess, as a go-between; and apparently visited the guardian, when, in reality, the fair ward was the object of his intentions.
"Peter the Great, who, at that period, occupied the throne of Russia, had an unpleasant habit of rewarding his bachelor friends for worthy deeds, with the hand of some fair maiden of his court; and, having beheld the Polish lady, he resolved to bestow her upon Admiral Praxin, who, though often regarded with suspicionby his sovereign, had lately rendered 'the state good service.' Olinska repulsed the old sailor's advances with disdain; but the Czar requested her to grant him a private interview, and a request from such a source being synonymous with a command, the lady felt obliged to grant it.
"Alone she sat, in a gorgeously furnished apartment, when the Admiral was announced, her sable locks shading a neck and bosom that rivalled the snow in their whiteness, and supporting her head with a hand of nature's choicest modeling.
"Admiral Praxin was a man in the 'sere and yellow leaf' of meridian life. His form was firm and upright, and his costume was that of a youthful courtier; but deep wrinkles tracked his brow with the footprints of age, and his hair had caught the snow-flakes of the mountain's farther side. That foretaste of eternal torments, the gout, had rather confused the measure of his tread, and the stout old Admiral entered the lady's presence with an ungraceful limp.
"As he passed into the room, a little figure clad in blue and silver, followed him noiselessly and, with wonderful agility, darted behind a curtain of the window.
"Olinska received her admirer with some embarrassment, which he seemed at first to reciprocate; but at length, after many leers and grimaces, his countenance assumed a determined expression, and he went directly to the point.
"'Madam,' he said, 'you can scarcely be ignorant of the object for which I now visit you; nor can you feel more deeply than I the extremely unpleasant positionin which we are both placed, by the desire of Peter. Aside from the duty I owe my sovereign of submitting entirely to his will, I have a sentiment in my heart, which, should it find a reflection in yours, will make me the happiest of men. My title and fortune are trifles; but the sentiment of love for yourself, united to that of loyal obedience, may, perhaps, be deemed by you as more powerful suitors for your hand and heart.'
"'It were foolish in me to pretend to misunderstand you, my lord,' replied Olinska, with dignity. 'I am aware that the Czar favors your suit, and looks upon me as a fitting bride for one whom he delights to honor; but, greatly as I honor and respect both my sovereign and yourself, I must positively refuse obedience in this instance, and assume the right to act for myself. I am deeply grateful to you, my lord, for your intended kindness, but must, with all due respect, reject your offer, and close our interview.'
"As she spoke, her bosom heaved with emotions boiling within, her eye flashed, and the right of woman to maintain her prerogative shone from every feature.
"'Consider well, lady, before you drive me to despair by such cruelty!' exclaimed the Admiral, with vehemence. 'Consider what you are casting aside as worthless. I have influence at court beyond that of the most powerful; the very Czar fears to offend me, and the wife of Admiral Praxin will be second only to the imperial Catherine in grandeur and dominion. Let me hope that this is only maiden coyness, and that deliberation may alter your decision.'
"'I will not deceive you, my lord,' responded thelady, 'by awaking hopes which can never be realized. My hand shall never be yielded to any man by compulsion, or implied claims which I do not acknowledge; nor do I recognize any other right than my own to dispose of it. Dwell upon the subject no longer, or your title to the name of friend will be forfeited. Allow me to retire.'
"Dismay was betrayed in every lineament of the sailor's countenance, as he marked the firm tones in which these words were spoken; but anger quickly took its place as he asked, with a glance of suspicion,
"'Lady, have I a rival?'
"Olinska answered not, and arose to leave the apartment, when Praxin quickly intercepted her, and fell upon his knees.
"'Olinska, you shall not leave me thus!' he exclaimed, in tones hoarse with excitement. 'If love will not incline you to accept me, let ambition do it.I have the power to place you on the throne of Russia, if you but say the word; your own countrymen, the refugees from Sweden, and twenty thousand discontented serfs will rise at my bidding; the navy is mine, and, by a wave of the hand, I can become an Emperor.'
"With a look of the most unmitigated disdain, the lady regarded the supplicant at her feet.
"'I will not parley longer with atraitor,' she said, in tones so cold and piercing that he involuntarily recoiled from her, and she walked from the apartment with a queenly air.
"'I'll be revenged for this,' muttered the discarded suitor, as, with a frowning brow, he took his departure.
"Then forth sprang Orloff from his place of concealment, with a smile of no ordinary magnitude distorting his little face.
"'Good! and now for the Countess!' he exclaimed, following the Admiral.
"Meanwhile, Nicholas had wandered about the city in a most pitiable state of apprehension, and was about to rush madly to the hotel of the Countess, when he beheld the dwarf hastening toward him, carrying a letter at arm's length.
"'Here—from the Countess,' ejaculated Orloff, panting for breath, and handing him the missive. Nicholas hastily tore it open, and read:
"'Dear Nicholas:—Olinska has had an interview with the Admiral, and, from its results, I fear the worst. Have a chaise and four, at the private door of my hotel before sunset to-day. You may trust Orloff.
"'In haste,Walewski.'
"'Shall I engage the conveyance?' asked the dwarf, with a grin.
"'Yes! I will trust you,' replied the excited officer.
"'You will find all in readiness, at the private door, by four o'clock!' said Orloff, and he disappeared as quickly as he came.
"At the appointed hour, Nicholas repaired to the spot where a chaise and its attendants were awaiting him, and right speedily a muffled figure emerged from the private door, and touched his arm.
"'Olinska, dearest Olinska.'
"'Let us hasten, Nicholas, I fear we are betrayed,' answered Olinska, trembling in his arms.
"The officer quickly placed her in the chaise, and the horses had made their first spring forward when a great tumult arose in the street, and looking forth from a window of the vehicle, Nicholas beheld, to his dismay, half a score of imperial cavalry galloping furiously toward him.
"'Onward! onward!' he shouted to the drivers, and sank back upon his seat beside the fainting girl.
"At the top of their speed fled the four chaise horses, making the vehicle bounce from the earth as though it were composed entirely of springs; but they were no match for the full-blooded animals of the cavalry, and the latter soon came up with them.
"'Stop, in the name of the Czar,' said the leader, drawing his sword.
"At the command, the postillions dropped their reins, and the chaise came to a dead halt. Then the door was burst open; and Nicholas, with a pistol in each hand, sprang into the road.
"'Gentlemen,' he said hurriedly, 'you must allow me to proceed; the die is cast, and there is no turning back. Stand aside, sirs, I do not wish to shed your blood.'
"'Colonel Dimitri,' answered the leader, 'we are sorry that such is our duty, but the Czar has ordered us to apprehend you and your companion; and carry you before him; I therefore apprehend you in the name of Czar.'
"'This is tyranny and I will resist it to the last,' exclaimed the excited lover. 'I have not broken thelaws, and am no political criminal. Why should I be treated thus? You may take me gentlemen, but not alive.'
"'We must do our duty,' answered the other. 'Surround and disarm him,' he added, turning to his followers.
"The soldiers approached to obey his orders, and the desperate colonel had levelled his weapons, when Olinska, sprang from the chaise and knelt upon the ground before him.
"'Submit, Nicholas; for my sake submit,' she exclaimed, energetically, clasping her hands towards him.
"Nicholas regarded her attentively for a moment, and then lowered his weapons.
"'I am your prisoner,' he said; 'take me where you will.'
"The captured pair, were returned to the vehicle, the horses' heads were turned, and in silence they proceeded to the palace of the Czar.
"The imperial mansion was very different in those days from what it now is. No gaudy trappings, neither external nor internal, proclaimed the abode of royalty; for Peter the Great appealed to hearts, not the eyes of his subjects, and for the inspection of foreigners he had an army, unrivaled in discipline and accoutrements, by any in Europe. A small ante-chamber, plainly furnished, and adorned with various models of ships, paintings, and rude implements of warfare led into the hall of audience, equally unostentatious, and the imperial dining saloon, plain as that of an ordinary tradesman.
"Into the latter apartment, Nicholas and Olinska were led by their captors, pale and silent, but undismayed.
"A long table, bearing on its centre an immense pie, was loaded with a rich repast; and about it, were seated the most distinguished nobles and generals of the empire, and Admiral Praxin; while at its head, on elevated seats, appeared the Czar and Czarina.
"'Ha! here are the two fugitives!' exclaimed Peter, observing the entrance of the party and approaching them.
"Nicholas started at the sound of that voice, and looking up, recognized in his sovereign,The Little Man in Green.
"'Your pardon, sire!' he exclaimed falling upon his knees, and remembering with the great trepidation how scurvily he had treated royalty in disguise.
"'Arise, Colonel Dimitri,' said the Czar kindly; 'you need not think of what has past; I am satisfied that you are a true and loyal subject. But what possessed you to run away with this little rebel, man? Did you not know that she was affianced to Admiral Praxin?'
"'Pardon me sire, I did not,' answered Nicholas.
"'And you Olinska; you have disregarded our wishes, and thrown the gallant admiral overboard?' continued Peter, addressing the trembling girl, with a mixture of severity and good-nature.
"Olinska bowed her head.
"'What say you Praxin? Are you willing to yield your bride to the army, and let the navy remain a bachelor?'
"The Admiral had turned all colors, at the first entranceof Olinska, but marking that she remained silent, he plucked up sufficient courage to reply.
"'I cannot accept the lady's hand without her heart.'
"'Did you sue for them like a man?' demanded Peter, sternly.
"'I hope so, your majesty.'
"'You lie, base traitor!' thundered the Czar, eyeing him with a glance that chilled his blood.
"'Hasshebetrayed me?' ejaculated Praxin, turning deadly pale, and involuntarily clutching the handle of his sword.
"'No,' answered Peter in hoarse tones, 'witness, come forth.'
"At that moment, the upper covering of the great pie was observed to move, and in another instant, it was thrown back, discovering the mighty Orloff, seated within the dish.
"'God save the Czar!' said the dwarf, rising and stepping forth upon the table, with a bow of studied politeness.
"'Orloff, point out the traitor,' said Peter.
"Orloff assumed an air of great penetration, and pointed toward the Admiral, who stood alone, with his back against the wall, a perfect picture of despairing guilt.
"'That is the man,' said the dwarf.
"'Give your proof.'
"'Your majesty must know, that I was present while Admiral Praxin was wooing the lady Olinska, and heard him say that your majesty dared not offend him; he also declared that she had but to say the word, andhe would make her an Empress, explaining how he had the Poles, the Serfs, the Swedish refugees, and the navy at his command, ready at his bidding to make him Emperor of Russia.'
"'What say you to this charge?' demanded Peter.
"Praxin had regained somewhat of composure during the dwarf's speech; and at its conclusion he approached the Czar and falling upon his knees, surrendered his sword and belt.
"'I am guilty,' he said, in firm tones. 'Take my sword, gracious sovereign, and with it receive back the commission I have forever disgraced. In a moment of ungovernable passion I spoke words which should have choked me ere I uttered them, and which I would give my life to recall. I desire no mercy; yet I would ask forgiveness of Olinska, for daring to breathe treason in her presence.'
"'Let us both forget it,' said Olinska, gently.
"'AlasIcan never forget it,' he replied, pressing her hands to his lips, and resuming his former attitude.
"The Czar gazed some moments attentively and silently upon the face of Praxin, as though to read his inmost soul, and then turning to Nicholas, he said:
"'Colonel Dimitri, it is but just that I should explain my conduct to you and Olinska, as it was by making an unconscious tool of you that I have ferreted this matter out. I intended that Olinska should have wedded the Admiral, not knowing that her affections had been given to another; but lately I have distrusted him and ordered a spy of the police to watch him closely. My agent speedily brought menews ofyourengagement, and your intended course; and I resolved to throw myself in your way, and gain a slight knowledge of your character. You know how I succeeded in that attempt. I also requested Olinska to receive the Admiral privately, and sent Orloff to be present—though concealed—at the interview. The Countess Walewski was made acquainted with my plans, by the dwarf, and hence your presence here. As a punishment for an attempt to outwit me, I command that you be married before you leave the palace. As for you, Admiral,' he continued, turning to Praxin, 'in consideration of the many services you have rendered us, I grant you a free pardon. You have been humiliated in the eyes of your friends, and have failed to win a prize worthy of my best subject. May you learn the lesson that passion will not always excuse dangerous words, nor is a sovereign's leniency everlasting.'
"Universal rejoicings followed this generous speech, and the victims of the royal whim retired from the imperial palace, married—for better or worse."
This Russian tale sent us all home very thirsty, my boy; for its effect was very dry.
Yours, weariedly,Orpheus C. Kerr.
CONCERNING THE SERIOUS MISTAKE OF THE VENERABLE GAMMON, THE CHAPLAIN'S POETICAL DISCOVERY, THE PROMOTION OF COMMODORE HEAD, AND THE RECEPTION OF THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION BY THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY.
CONCERNING THE SERIOUS MISTAKE OF THE VENERABLE GAMMON, THE CHAPLAIN'S POETICAL DISCOVERY, THE PROMOTION OF COMMODORE HEAD, AND THE RECEPTION OF THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION BY THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY.
Washington, D. C., October 12th, 1862.
The Southern Confederacy having delayed to sue for peace, my boy, until the safety of Washington requires that national strategy should continue metaphysical hostilities, it may be as well for you and me as a nation to prepare for a speedy commencement of War in earnest. The North, my boy, has not begun to fight yet; and as the stolid centuries roll on, and the hoary years move one by one into the sunless solitude of Eternity, it becomes daily more evident that the North's actual putting forth of all its strength is merely a question of time. The giant is only just rousing from his slumbers, and nothing but his legs and feet appear to be thoroughly awake yet.
Now, is the time, my boy, for the idiotic Confederacy to save himself, by returning penitently to that beneficent Government which would have realized the millenium at half-past two o'clock on the Fourth of July, 1776, but for the unseemly villainy of theaccursed Black Republicans, many of whom are shortly to be hung.
That is to say, such is the opinion of the Venerable Gammon, whose benignant presence is believed to have proved the salvation of our distracted country in the Revolutionary War, though I can find nothing, except his protecting patriarchal deportment toward all the present universe, to justify the idea that he ever benefited anything. It soothes the human soul, my boy, to hear this Venerable man discoursing on the most trite subjects in tones, and with an air calculated to bless all created things as with a paternal benediction. Surrounded by a number of his idolatrous national children, and standing in front of Willard's the other evening, he pointed fatly to a bright star overhead, and says he:
"That star is like our country. That star," says the Venerable Gammon, with a meaningless smile of angelic purity, "is like any other star on our flag;though clouds may hide it in its ascending node, it is still knowed to be ascending."
Then everybody felt cheered with the peaceful conviction that Columbia was saved at last; and it's my private belief, my boy—my private belief, that the attached populace looked upon this good old man as the one who had made the star.
Yet, strange as it may seem, this venerable Benefactor made a little mistake on Tuesday. A sportive young chap came to him with a newspaper in his hand, and says he: "Let me see if you can tell, myPater Patria, what paper this article is in"—and proceeded to read the following high-minded editorial:
"TREASON OF THE BLACK REPUBLICANS.
"True to their foul instincts, the Greely, Cheever, and Wendell Phillips herd of treasonable fanatics are now accusing their 'Honest Old Abe' of ruining the country. It was their votes that elected the rail-splitter, and now they turn tail upon him and howl maledictions because he will not carry out their fiendish intents by erecting a revolutionary guillotine in every Northern town and city. That blasphemous mountebank, Beecher, may as well cease his treasonable impiety at once; for he and his Sharps'-rifle crew are responsible for the present bankruptcy of the whole country, and the people will yet hold them to strict account for every drop of blood that has been and will be shed in this unnatural strife."
When sportive chap ceased reading, the Venerable Gammon waved his obese hand with the fond, familiar air of a pleased benignity, and says he:
"Of course, I know what paper that is, my son. I know the ring of those sterling conservative sentiments," says the Venerable Gammon, with calm satisfaction, "and am blessed in the knowledge that our loyal New York Herald is still true to the Constitution and to the principles of my old friend, Georgey Washington—or 'old Wash,' as he permitted me to call him."
The sportive chap softly picked his teeth with a wisp from a broom, and says he: "But this ain't the Heraldat all, you dear old soul; it's a copy of the Richmond Whig!" It was at this very moment, my boy, that the Venerable Gammon was first attacked by that dreadful cough which put an end to all further conversation, and has since excited the most fearful apprehensions lest a bereaved country should suddenly be called to mourn the untimely loss of its benign idol.
On Tuesday afternoon, I had a talk with the Mackerel chaplain, who had remained here over Sunday to administer consolation to a dying brigadier, and was grievously wounded in spirit to find that the telegraph had committed a trifling breach of spelling, and that that brigadier was only dyeing his hair, which had suddenly turned white in a single night on the strength of a rumor that there might be some fighting in the morning.
The Mackerel chaplain, my boy, is of inestimable value to a wounded man, his vivid and spiritual manner of describing the celebrated Fire Department of the other world being a source of unspeakable comfort and reassurance to the sufferer. "I am afraid you have led a sinful life, my fellow-worm," says he to the sick Mackerel, "and can only advise you to buy one of these hymn-books from me, which I can afford to sell for six shillings."
But what the chaplain talked to me about, was his discovery, at a village not far from Winchester, of a new
"PICCIOLA."
It was a Sergeant old and gray,Well singed and bronzed from siege and pillage,Went tramping in an army's wake,Along the turnpike of the village.For days and nights the winding hostHad through the little place been marching,And ever loud the rustics cheered,'Till ev'ry throat was hoarse and parching.The Squire and Farmer, maid and dame,All took the sight's electric stirring,And hats were waved and staves were sung,And kerchiefs white were countless whirring.They only saw a gallant showOf heroes stalwart under banners,And in the fierce heroic glow,'Twas theirs to yield but wild hosannahsThe Sergeant heard the shrill hurrahs,Where he behind in step was keeping;But glancing down beside the roadHe saw a little maid sit weeping."And how is this?" he gruffly said,A moment pausing to regard her;—"Why weepest thou, my little chit?"—And then she only cried the harder.
It was a Sergeant old and gray,Well singed and bronzed from siege and pillage,Went tramping in an army's wake,Along the turnpike of the village.
For days and nights the winding hostHad through the little place been marching,And ever loud the rustics cheered,'Till ev'ry throat was hoarse and parching.
The Squire and Farmer, maid and dame,All took the sight's electric stirring,And hats were waved and staves were sung,And kerchiefs white were countless whirring.
They only saw a gallant showOf heroes stalwart under banners,And in the fierce heroic glow,'Twas theirs to yield but wild hosannahs
The Sergeant heard the shrill hurrahs,Where he behind in step was keeping;But glancing down beside the roadHe saw a little maid sit weeping.
"And how is this?" he gruffly said,A moment pausing to regard her;—"Why weepest thou, my little chit?"—And then she only cried the harder.
"And how is this, my little chit?"The sturdy trooper straight repeated,"When all the village cheers us on,That you, in tears, apart are seated?"We march two hundred thousand strong!And that's a sight, my baby beauty,To quicken silence into songAnd glorify the soldier's duty.""It's very, very grand, I know,"The little maid gave soft replying;"And Father, Mother, Brother too,All say 'Hurrah' while I am crying;"But think—O Mr. Soldier, think,How many little sisters' brothersAre going all away to fightAnd may bekilled, as well as others!""Why bless thee, child," the Sergeant said,His brawny hands her curls caressing,"'Tis left for little ones like youTo find that War's not all a blessing."And "Bless thee!" once again he cried;Then cleared his throat and looked indignant,And marched away with wrinkled browTo stop the struggling tear benignant.
"And how is this, my little chit?"The sturdy trooper straight repeated,"When all the village cheers us on,That you, in tears, apart are seated?
"We march two hundred thousand strong!And that's a sight, my baby beauty,To quicken silence into songAnd glorify the soldier's duty."
"It's very, very grand, I know,"The little maid gave soft replying;"And Father, Mother, Brother too,All say 'Hurrah' while I am crying;
"But think—O Mr. Soldier, think,How many little sisters' brothersAre going all away to fightAnd may bekilled, as well as others!"
"Why bless thee, child," the Sergeant said,His brawny hands her curls caressing,"'Tis left for little ones like youTo find that War's not all a blessing."
And "Bless thee!" once again he cried;Then cleared his throat and looked indignant,And marched away with wrinkled browTo stop the struggling tear benignant.
And still the ringing shouts went upFrom doorway, thatch, and fields of tillage;The pall behind the standard seenBy one alone, of all the village.The oak and cedar bend and writheWhen roars the wind through gap and braken;But 'tis the tenderest reed of allThat trembles first when Earth is shaken.
And still the ringing shouts went upFrom doorway, thatch, and fields of tillage;The pall behind the standard seenBy one alone, of all the village.
The oak and cedar bend and writheWhen roars the wind through gap and braken;But 'tis the tenderest reed of allThat trembles first when Earth is shaken.
It is with infinite satisfaction, my boy, that I record the recognition of Commodore Head's priceless services on Duck Lake by the Secretary of the Navy. Our grim old son of Neptune is created Rear-Admiral, with the privilege of snubbing gunboat captains, receiving serenades, attending launches, and lavishing untold scorn upon the feeble imitations of affrighted Europe.
Hence, there would appear to be an imperative demand in current literature for an authoritative
SKETCH OF COMMODORE HEAD.
This venerable ornament of our peerless naval service, to whom the eyes of the whole world are now directed, was born of one of his parents at an early period of his existence, and has since incurred the years temporarily elapsing between that epoch and the present auspicious occasion. The subject of our brief biography entered the navy when he was only fifty yearsold, as commander of the Mackerel iron-plated squadron on Duck Lake, where he became widely noted for success in fishing, as well as for his skill in eluding vessels running the blockade. At one time, indeed, he came very near capturing a Confederate ram, being only prevented by failing to find the key of the box containing his spectacles in time to reconnoiter the wily foe. Commodore Head's conversation concerning the speedy capture of Vicksburg, Charleston, Savannah and Mobile, is instructive to all minds, and his promotion is an event calculated to prove that the war is about to begin in earnest.
Rear-Admirals, my boy, are an aristocratic institution; and their creation must serve to convince besotted Europe, that in making a naval distinction between rank and file, our discriminating Government knows how to compromise matters by bestowing a new rank upon an old file.
It was on Wednesday that my architectural steed, the Gothic Pegasus, renewed his usual weekly journey to desolated Accomac, cheerfully conveying me thither at a speed that did not keep the same roadside house in view more than half an hour at a time. Having hitched the funereal stallion to a copy of Senator Sumner's recent Faneuil Hall speech, believing that document sufficiently heavy to hold him, I gave him a discarded straw-hat of mine for his dinner, and strolled into the Mackerel camp.
To the everlasting disgrace of our rulers be it said, my boy, I found the devoted Mackerel Brigade progressingtoward deep suffering at a rate which made me thank Heaven that I owned no chickens within sight of the harrowing scene. Being thoughtlessly supplied with three days' rations at a time, these neglected martyrs incur all the perils of suffocation and cruel nightmare by doing nothing on the first day but eat from morning till night, what is left over at midnight being used to pelt each other with. Then for two whole days these gallant men who are fighting our battles find famine staring them in the face, and I actually heard one emaciated Mackerel chap offering a whole week's pay to another Mackerel chap for a Confederate cracker which he had picked up in a field, wishing to consign that cracker to his friends at home as a sample of the unnatural food with which an ungrateful Republic feeds its faithful soldiers. I even found many Mackerels without knapsacks and blankets, which they had lost in adventures at "Old Sledge"; and there was that in the countenances of others which sured me that their poor faces had not been washed since the commencement of the war!
My soul turns sick at these things, my boy, and they even have an effect upon a beholder's stomach. To think that our noble volunteers, our country's preservers, should be subjected to sufferings in which they have not even the poor consolation of knowing that somebody else than themselves is responsible therefor.
Reflectively I turned from the scene of agony, and had rambled some fifteen minutes in an adjacent bit of woods, when the sound of voices near by made mestop short behind a tree and peer eagerly through an opening in the nearest thicket.
Seated just beyond some evergreen bushes were four dilapidated Confederacies, solemnly discussing the great Emancipation Proclamation of our Honest Abe; whilst close by them, and astride of a mossy stone, was the accomplished swordsman, Captain Munchausen, frantically, and with many hiccups, endeavoring at one and the same time to catch a phantom fly and maintain his equestrian position.
One of the Confederacies took a bite from a cold potato which he held in his hand, and, says he:
"I reckon that it's near time for the unsubjugated South to adopt Retaliatory measures, and proclaim that all prisoners hereafter taken by the Confederacy shall be previously shot and made into bone-ornaments."
Here Captain Munchausen burst into an unseemly peal of laughter as he made another wild clutch at the phantom-fly, and says he:
"Wher—where's Mary's—ary's—snuff-box?"
Not perceiving that this special remark was relevant to the question in view, a second Confederacy merely tightened the string which held his inexpressibles in place, and, says he:
"What has been proposed by the Honorable Gentleman from the Alms House is not sufficiently severe. No mercy should be shown to the Washington demon, and I move that any Federal soldiers found disturbing a Confederacy during the progress of a battle shall be at once executed for arson."
The impression created by this motion extendedeven to Captain Munchausen, who fell flat on his face in a frantic attempt to catch the spectral insect, and exclaimed, in tones of awful solemnity:
"I don't want (hic) to be marri—ry—arried—Hic!"
After a moment's pause, the third Confederacy finished buttoning his coat with a bit of corn-cob, and says he:
"I move that the last Resolution be amended, to make it a capital crime for any person whatever to be guilty of Federal extraction."
Now, it chanced, my boy, that there was a Mackerel picket eating a confiscated watermelon in a clump of bushes close behind me; and just at this crisis of the debate, he casually tossed a piece of the rind in the direction of the Confederacies. It happened to fall in their midst, whereupon the enraged statesmen were seized with great tremblings, and immediately skedaddled in all directions, the last being Captain Munchausen, who at first endeavored to carry a rock of some hundred pounds' weight away with him, and ultimately retreated in a highly-circuitous manner, with an expression of abject despair under his cap.
It is said, my boy, that the celebrated Confederacy will resent the Proclamation by raising the Black Flag. It is a common belief, that if such be the case, it will be the duty of our generals to raise the blacks without flagging.
Yours, if it come to that,Orpheus C. Kerr.
SETTING FORTH THE FALSE AND TRUE ASPECTS OF BEAMING OLD AGE RESPECTIVELY, AND SHOWING HOW THE UNBLUSHING CONFEDERACY MADE ANOTHER RAID.
SETTING FORTH THE FALSE AND TRUE ASPECTS OF BEAMING OLD AGE RESPECTIVELY, AND SHOWING HOW THE UNBLUSHING CONFEDERACY MADE ANOTHER RAID.
Washington, D. C., October 19th, 1862.
It is a beautiful and improving thing, my boy, to see the wise and polished mob of a great nation paying unmitigated reverence to fussy gray hairs, and much shirt collar; and hence I never grew tired of considering the dignified case of the Venerable Gammon, whom everybody regards as the benign paternal relative of his country. When I see Generals, Senators, and other proprietors of Government property, hanging breathlessly upon the words of this sublime old man, just as though such words were so many gallows, I feel the cause of Justice typified to my mind's eye, and am myself enthusiastic enough to believe that hanging is too good for them. Whether at Willard's, the White House, the Capitol, or in his native Mugville, the Venerable Gammon is ever the same beneficent being, beaming blandly upon the whole universe from above his ruffles, and paternally permitting it to exist in his presence.
The precise thing he has done in his fearfully longlifetime, my boy, to beget such an agony of love and worship from everybody, has not yet come to the immediate knowledge of anybody; but he is the moss-grown oracle of the United States of America, and it gives me unspeakable satisfaction to reproduce as follows, his benign letter of advice to the idolized General of the Mackerel Brigade:
Mugville, July 4, 1776.
Dear Sirrah,—Justly regarding you as the next President of the United States, and an honored successor of my old friend, Georgey Washington, I deem it proper, by reason of my great importance and infirmities, to repeat in writing with a pen what I have before spoken to you with my tongue—this supplement to my printed views (dated April the First) on the highly inflamed condition of our glorious and distracted Union.
To meet the expectations of a populace admiring my venerable shape, I deem it consistent with my retiring modesty and infirmities to dictate to you the four plans you may pursue by way of making yourself President of our distracted Commonwealth in 1865.
I.—Throw off the old and assume a new designation—the sly old party; give the South entire control of the whole country, and, my wig upon it, we shall have no secession; but, on the contrary, an early return of the entire Confederacy to Washington. Without some equally benignant measure, we shall be compelled to fight all the Border States and put themdown at once, instead of keeping two hundred thousand soldiers peaceably employed in making their loyalty continually sure.
II.—Collect the war taxes outside of the States where the tax-payers live, or declare upon paper that they are already collected.
III.—Conquer the seceded States by the unheard-of agency of an actual army. I think this might be done in a few hundred years by a young and able general to be found on some railroad, with six hundred thousand disciplined spades. Estimating a third of this number to remain for ever stationary on the Potomac, and a loss of a still greater number by consummate strategy and changings of base. The loss of chickens and contrabands on the other side would be frightful, however great the morality of the mudsills.
This conquest would cost money that might otherwise go to beautify the South, secure fifteen swearing and deeply-offended provinces, and be immediately followed by a new election for President in 1865.
IV.—Say to the Seceded States, in one of which I own some mortgages: "How are you, Southern Confederacy?"
Deliberately, I remain,Your father and the country's,V. Gammon.
This touching letter, my boy, I recommend to your most prayerful consideration, as a paternal outpouring of shirt-collared old age.
Old age! how beautiful art thou in the glory of thy spectacles, and the sublime largeness of thy stomach and manner. And yet, would you believe it, my boy? I am sometimes possessed of great doubtings as to the genuineness of that majesty which makes a continually-looming Venerable Shape such a great blessing to an imperiled land. Sometimes there comes to me a rickety vision of:
AGE BLUNTLY CONSIDERED.
As Age advances, ails and aches attend,Backs builded broadest burdensomely bend;Cuttingly cruel comes consuming Care,Dealing delusions, drivelry, despair.Empty endeavor enervately ends,Fancy forlornly feigns forgotten friends;Gout, grimly griping, gluttonously great,Hasten's humanity's hard-hearted hate.Intentions imbecile invent ideasJustly jocunding jolly jokers' jeers:Knowledge—keen kingdom knurlyably known—Lingers, lamenting life's long lasting loan,
As Age advances, ails and aches attend,Backs builded broadest burdensomely bend;Cuttingly cruel comes consuming Care,Dealing delusions, drivelry, despair.
Empty endeavor enervately ends,Fancy forlornly feigns forgotten friends;Gout, grimly griping, gluttonously great,Hasten's humanity's hard-hearted hate.
Intentions imbecile invent ideasJustly jocunding jolly jokers' jeers:Knowledge—keen kingdom knurlyably known—Lingers, lamenting life's long lasting loan,
Mammonly mumming, magnifying motes,Nurtures numb Nature's narrowest nursery notes,Opens old age's odious offering out—Peevish punctilio, parrot-pining pout.Qualmishly querrying, quarrelsomely quaint,Rousing rife ridicules' repealed restraint;Speaking soft silliness—such shallow showThat tottering toysters, tickled, titter too.Useless, ungainly unbeloved, unblest,Virtue's vague visor, vice's veiling vest,Wheezingly whimpering, wanting wisdom, wit,Xistence, Xigent, Xclaims—Xit!Youths, you're yelept youth's youngest; yet you'llZestless zig-zaggers zanyable zealed.
Mammonly mumming, magnifying motes,Nurtures numb Nature's narrowest nursery notes,Opens old age's odious offering out—Peevish punctilio, parrot-pining pout.
Qualmishly querrying, quarrelsomely quaint,Rousing rife ridicules' repealed restraint;Speaking soft silliness—such shallow showThat tottering toysters, tickled, titter too.
Useless, ungainly unbeloved, unblest,Virtue's vague visor, vice's veiling vest,Wheezingly whimpering, wanting wisdom, wit,Xistence, Xigent, Xclaims—Xit!
Youths, you're yelept youth's youngest; yet you'llZestless zig-zaggers zanyable zealed.
I exhibited that pleasing little poem to a Mackerel chap, who stuttered, my boy; and he came so near going into apoplexy through his endeavors to read it, that I was obliged to make a joke, in order that he might smile, relax, and recover.
And now let your mind fly, like a wearied dove, to the celebrated Arcadian scenes of festive Accomac, where the Mackerel Brigade continues to reconnoitre in force, and awaits the death of the Confederacy by old age. Men, my boy, who entered this strategic war in the full bloom of youth, now go with stooping shoulders and tottering gait when they have a barrel of flour to carry, and the bloom has departed from every part of them save the extreme tip of that handleof the human countenance which first meets the edge of an open door in the dark. Even the Mackerel brass-band begins to grow feeble, often making pitiable attempts to execute stirring strains on his night key bugle, as though unconscious that by long disuse in his pocket it had become clogged with bread and cheese.
There is, on the Southern border of Accomac, my boy, a solitary house, containing furniture and the necessaries of life, which the Conic Section of the Mackerel Brigade had been ordered to guard. It stands immediately on the verdant banks of Awlkwyet River, where that stream must be at least ten inches deep; and as the first regular bridge is ten miles below it, of course the Conic Section, to guard the house, was placed at the end of that bridge—it being a principle of national strategy never to recognize any Confederate raid not made across a regular bridge.
Now it chanced, that while the Conic Section at the bridge was taking a short nap, having been up very late the night before; and while the beloved General of the Mackerel Brigade was visiting a portion of his beautiful home-circle in Paris, that a very dirty Confederacy, riding in a seedy go-cart, made his appearance on the bank of the river opposite the house, and commenced to make a raid right through the water to the shore this side. His geometrical steed wet his feet thereby, and the wheels of his squeaking vehicle were damped by this barbarian way of offering irregular opposition to the Government; but what cared he for the rules of civilized warfare, which are the only authorized West Point editions? Like all his infatuatedcountrymen, he was rendered less than strategic by the demon of Secession, and he crossed by the unmilitary ford instead of by the military bridge.
This is, indeed, heart-sickening.
There was a Mackerel chap who slept in the house to take care of a large black bottle, and when he heard the go-cart driving up before the door, he stuck his head out of the window, and says he:
"What is it which you would have in these irregular proceedings, Mr. Stuart?"
The Confederacy dismounted from his chariot, tied a bag of oats over his charger's head, and says he:
"I'm making a raid."
The Mackerel waved his hand southward, and says he:
"You'll find the bridge just below. Don't stay here," says the Mackerel, earnestly, "or you'll exasperate the North to fury."
Here the Confederacy made some remark in which the name of the North and a profane expletive were connected very closely, and proceeded to bring from the house a hobby-horse which stood in the hall. After placing this valuable article in his go-cart, he next brought out a cooking-stove; closely following this with some chairs, a dining-table, two feather beds, a tea-set, four wine-glasses and some tumblers, a looking-glass, four sheets, two cottage bedsteads, a Brussels carpet, and a Maltese cat. With these and a few other exceptions, my boy, he made no attempt to disturb private property; thereby proving that the President's Proclamation has already produced a wholesome effect in the degenerate South.
While this was going on, the vigilant Mackerel guard descended privately from a back window, and made a forced march to where the Conic Section were watching something which looked like a man in the Southern horizon—instantly making known the audacious raid of the thieving Confederacy, and asking whether the new levies of the Executive's last call were likely to arrive early enough to take measures for the prevention of the capture of Washington.
While the question was in debate, my boy, the beloved General of the Mackerel Brigade arrived with his trunk and umbrella from Paris, and having caused it to be telegraphed to all the reliable morning journals that the Confederacy were now in a fair way to be captured alive, he at once took measures to cut off the retreat of the latter. Captain Villiam Brown, with Company 3, Regiment 5, was at once ordered to construct a pontoon bridge across the river some miles below, and watch it vigilantly day and night; Captain Bob Shorty and Colonel Wobert Wobinson, with the Anatomical Cavalry, were dispatched to take possession of a railroad leading to Manassas; whilst Captain Samyule Sa-mith with the balance of the Conic Section, was commanded to make a detour of three hundred miles, and endeavor to reach the invaded house before midwinter set in.
All these movements were in accordance with profound strategy, my boy, and cut off the Confederacy from retreat by every route in the world, except the insignificant one he came by.
Satisfied that the war was going to end in about sixty days, after which we should have time to defeatcombined Europe, the Mackerel guard hastened back to the domicil, which he reached just in time to find the Confederacy topping his go-cart with some kindling-wood from the cellar.
I regret to say, my boy—I blush for my species as I make the incredible revelation—that upon receiving the information of his surrounding and probable strategic capture by the vigilant Mackerel Brigade, the irreverent Confederacy burst into a hideous horse-laugh, and at once proceeded to appropriate the poor Mackerel chap's own shoes and stockings. With the deepest horror I record, that he also tweaked the Mackerel's nose.
"I did not intend this as a permanent invasion," says the impious Confederacy, as he remounted his go-cart and turned his geometrical Arabian toward the water again; "but I have just married a daughter of South Carolina—one of two twins—and reckoned that I needed some things to set up housekeeping. Farewell, foul Hessian," says the Confederacy, as he splashed through the water to the opposite bank—"fare thee well, and tell your fiendish ruler, that it is somewhat impossible to conquer the sunny South."
The Mackerel chap gazed thoughtfully after the go-cart as it disappeared on the other side of the balmy Awlkwyet stream, and says he: "Rail on, my erring brother; but if you'd only stayed here one more week, you might not have escaped thus for seven whole days. Had the army been insufficient to secure you," says the Mackerel to himself, "had the army been insufficient to secure you, why, there's the police."
Raids, my boy, are so intrinsically irregular in their character, that no provision can be made for them in a regular army; hence they are sometimes necessitated to take provisions for themselves as they go on.
Yours, radiantly,Orpheus C. Kerr.