LETTER XCV.
NOTING THE CONTINUED ANGUISH OF THE CONSERVATIVE KENTUCKY CHAP, AND THE DEATH OF NEMO; AND DESCRIBING AN IMMENSE POPULAR DEMONSTRATION AGAINST THE OUTRAGES OF FEDERAL OPPRESSION.
WASHINGTON, D.C., May 24th, 1863.
The beautiful Spring, my boy, is out in the sunshine once more,--bowingher pretty face over her lap, as though to breathe the odor of thefresh violets lying scattered upon her coquettish green apron, butreally to hide the blush mantling the cheeks on which the hot breath ofenamored young Summer is tempting the roses to premature birth. What afine old world this is, after all, if we have plenty of money in ourpockets, plenty of health in our systems, and no poor relations! As youstand on the Arlington side of the Potomac, on any one of these fairMay days, and look around you in any direction, there is a beauty evenabout the tracks of war which enables you to comprehend why so many ofour brass-buttoned generals are fond of staying in one spot so long.Behind you rise Arlington Heights, which are disliked by our excellentNational Democratic Organization, only because they wear a covering ofLincoln green in summer; before you, and across the Potomac is theCapitol of our distracted country, looking like an ambitiousmarble-yard on its way out of town; and close beside you is one of ournational troops extracting certain wonders of the insect kingdom from aGovernment biscuit. On Tuesday, I was standing with the ConservativeKentucky chap near Long Bridge, surveying this scene, and says I,--
"Behold, my Nestor, how the scars left upon Nature's face by thechariot wheels of War are turning into dimples, and all the twinklingcurves of a placid smile."
"Yes," says he, hastily picking up the Jack of Diamonds which he hadaccidentally drawn from his pocket with his handkerchief,--"the sceneis somewhat pleasant; but not equal to Kentucky, where there is morerye."
Here the Kentucky chap became so deeply affected that he was compelledto smell a cork which he took from his vest pocket, and says he,--
"Kentucky raised a great deal of rye before the breaking out of thishere fatal war with the Southern Confederacy, with whom Kentucky isconnected by marriage; she raised it by the bottle; in which form itbecomes, as it were, the crowning glory of agriculture. Ah!" says theConservative Kentucky chap, stirring an invisible beverage with animaginary spoon, "how softly on my senses steals Kentucky's nationalanthem,--
"'If a body meet a body, Comin' through the rye.'
"And the Old Rye of Kentucky is famous for its body." The Kentucky chaphiccupped at the bare recollection of the thing, and says he: "But wecan no longer say that the bloom is on the rye; for this unnatural warhas killed the agriculture of Kentucky and broken many of her bottles.O Kentucky! Kentucky! how thirsty I am!"
After this speech, I could no longer profane the glory of God'sbeautiful picture by talking about it to a chap who could see nothingin a landscape but rye fields. And yet it is but natural for anyConservative chap to talk thus, after all; for I have found it to be apeculiarity of nearly all our fellow-beings, that Old Rye is foreverrunning in their heads.
On Wednesday, while I was on my usual weekly visit to the Mackerel campnear Duck Lake, I was called to look upon the body of a poor soldierwho had been shot during the night by a prowling Confederacy. He was avery young chap, my boy, with light, wavy hair, and might have beentaken for a mere lad, had there not been more years in the deep lineson his brow than on his beardless chin. There he lay upon his gun, withone hand clenched in the sand, and the other upon the damp red spot onhis breast. He looked like a child who had fallen asleep after unkindwords from his mother. The Chaplain and a private Mackerel in rags werebending over him, and says I,--
"Who was he?"
"He went by the name of Nemo," says the Chaplain, sadly; "but no oneknows what his real name was. He enlisted only two days ago, and kepthimself apart from the other men. I think he _was_ a gentleman."
Here the private Mackerel in rags broke in, and says he: "Yes, he _was_a gentleman. I an't no gentleman, but I know _he_ was, and I can lickany man that says he wasn't! I spoke to him last night when he wasrelieving guard, and asked him what fire-company he belonged to; and hesaid, none. I see he looked sick, and wasn't fit to do duty, and Ioffered to go out on picket in his place. It wasn't much to offer; buthe squeezed my hand very hard, and said that my life was worth morethan his; and that he would go. I asked him what he wanted to come tothe war and get killed for; and he said he'd tried to do his best inthe world, but everybody was against him, and he'd been disgraced fortrying to do an honorable thing, and couldn't stay and face people anymore, because all turned away from him. I told him I would lick the manwho hurt his feelings, and he only said: 'They all do that,' and wentaway." Here the poor Mackerel in rags shed tears, and says he: "I knowhe WAS a gentleman."
"I see how it is," says the Chaplain, shaking his head; "he was one ofthose unfortunates whose sensitive natures are a legacy of unhappiness,or madness, to be cancelled only by death. And yet his kindness ofheart with this rude soldier proved how much goodness there was in himthat the world had not turned to bitterness."
Alas! my boy, what a pity it is that these finer natures are forevercoming under the heels of everybody, and getting themselves crushed!They are like fine Sevres vases among stout earthen pipkins, equallyready to split with the cold, or be pulverized by a tilt from theirnext door neighbors. It is a misfortune for such fragile natures asthese to be in this common-place world at all, my boy, and they cannotdo the more useful portion of humanity a greater service than bygetting themselves out of it as soon as possible. I have known humanporcelain vases of this kind so fragile, that they were half-crackedbefore anything touched them.
On Thursday, my boy, the report that a friend of the well-knownSouthern Confederacy had been arrested and court-martialled, in Ohio,for simply advising the intelligent masses to set fire to a few Unionhospitals and go hunting after American eagles by the lightthereof,--this report, I say, excited amongst the loyal but seditiouspatriots of storied Accomac an indignation that was anything butspeechless. Shades of our Revolutionary sires! was it possible that acitizen of the Republic could no longer speak pieces without beingarrested for speaking peace! Ashes of the great! could it be, indeed,true that, even where there were no police, a man's personal libertywas no longer safe! The people of Accomac, my boy, were alarmed fortheir own liberties, and at once held a public meeting, at which Ihappened to be present.
As all the citizens who were worth $300 each sent notes to say thatthey had imperative engagements to prepare for the approachingConscription, and could not come, the meeting was composed entirely ofthe other citizens, many of whom engaged in single combat on their waythither, for the purpose of making the distance seem shorter.Punctually at seven o'clock, P.M., a gentleman of much muscle touchedoff a small field-piece with such admirable precision as to break allthe windows for two blocks around, and then dexterously discharged atwo-pound sky-rocket into the third-story bedroom of a venerable maidenlady living across the road. The demonstration was received with joyousacclamations by the populace, nearly twelve of whom had alreadyarrived; and a victim of Federal oppression, with a very large stomach,mounted the platform erected for the speakers, and said that he wouldcommence proceedings on this occasion, by reading a short portion ofWashington's Farewell Address from the volume of Bancroft which he heldin his hand. (Great applause.) The honorable gentleman then proceededto read something; but was interrupted by a reporter, who remarked thatthe speaker must be mistaken about that being Washington's Address, ashe had certainly read it in the Bible. The honorable gentleman thenturned his book over so that he could read the title, and said that hehad, indeed, made a slight mistake about the volume. He would deferreading the Address for the present, and begged leave to introduce Mr.John Smith, the Hon. Ferdinand De Percy having failed to be present.
Mr. Smith said that it was the proudest moment of his life, and he feltit an honor to be there. They had met together to denounce and spitupon an astounding Administration, under whose tyrannical sway no m
anwas allowed to say one word against it. A fellow-citizen had beenarrested in Ohio upon the miserable charge of advocating peace, when hewas really disturbing the peace all he could. How long were suchoutrages to be endured? He advised his hearers to strictly honor thelaws; but he would also have them go home, organize into regiments,purchase artillery, procure iron-clads, and destroy every man who daredto speak in favor of an Administration under which the boldest mandared not express his sentiments. He would have them do all thispeaceably; but he would have them do it. (Great enthusiasm, and criesof "Keep off my corns, durn ye!")
As Chesterfield Mortimer, the celebrated Accomac patriot, was not ableto be present on this occasion, Mr. Jones was introduced, and made afew sensible remarks. He said that he had always been a law-abidingman, and would always advocate the strictest observance of the laws.The peaceful people, he trusted, would all procure reliable musketsand....
At this moment, my boy, the speaker suddenly stopped short; stared at awhite object which had just appeared fluttering down the street; andthen, dashing wildly from the platform, tore furiously in the directionof said object, which appeared to be moving, followed spontaneously andwith frantic speed by his fellow-speakers and the entire meeting. I wasastounded; I was overwhelmed; for such a sudden breaking-up andprecipitate flight of a great indignation meeting was never witnessedbefore. Quickly mounting the vacant rostrum, I drew my field-glass frommy pocket, and proceeded to scan the wonderful white object which hadproduced such an electrical effect. It was moving on, as I fixed myglass upon it, and I found it to be a new banner, born by a fat youngman in a white apron, and bearing the inscription:
BROOKSES
NEW BAR-ROOM,
_JUST OPEN_.
FREE LUNCH NOW READY.
This it was, my boy, which had broken up one of the most significantmeetings of the age, by artfully working upon the idea of its supposedinn-significance.
Upon reaching Washington, on my return, I heard that a serious-mindedchap, of Republican officiousness, had just waited upon the Honest Abeto ask if he did not intend to cause the arrest of Smith and Jones fortheir treason.
Our Uncle Abe smiled feebly, and scratched his head, and says he:
"What Smith and Jones, neighbor?"
"Why," says the serious-minded chap, earnestly, "the Smith and Jones ofAccomac."
"Well, really," says the Honest Abe, pleasantly, "it's curious, now;but I never heard of them before."
Drawing an inference from this little circumstance of Executiveconversation, my boy, it strikes me that it would add considerably tothe importance of some of our large-sized local revolutionists, if theycould overturn the present ignorant Administration, and establish inits place a ---- Directory.
Yours, double-entendrely,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.