LETTER LIII.
NOTING THE LAMENTABLE INCONVENIENCES OF A "PRESS-CENSORSHIP," AND PARTIALLY REVEALING THE CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDANT ON A MARVELLOUS STRATEGIC CHANGE OF BASE BY THE MACKEREL BRIGADE.
WASHINGTON, D. C., July 6, 1862.
When in the course of human events, my boy, it becomes necessary for achap of respectable parentage to write a full and graphic account of agreat battle, without exasperating the press-censor by naming thelocality of the conflict, nor giving the number of the troops engaged,the officers commanding, the movements of the different regiments, thenature of the ground, the time of day, or the result of the struggle;when it becomes necessary for a chap of respectable parentage to dothis, my boy, that chap reminds me of a poor chap I once knew in theSixth Ward.
The poor chap took daguerreotype-likenesses in high style for lowprices, and one day, there came to his third-story Louvre agood-looking young man, dressed in a high botanical vest-pattern andsix large-sized breast-pins, and says he to the picture chap,confidentially:
"There's a young woman living in Henry-street, which I love, and whoadmires to see my manly shape; but her paternal father refuses toreceive me into the family on account of my low celery. Now," says thebreastpin-chap, knowingly, "I will give you just twenty-five dollars ifyou'll go to that house and take the portrait of that young lady forme, pretending that you have heard of her unearthly charms, and wanther picture, to add to the collection shortly to be sent to the Princeof Wales."
Having witnessed the worst passions of his landlord that morning, myboy, and received a telegraphic dispatch of immediate importance fromhis tailor, the artist chap heard about the twenty-five dollar job witha species of deep rapture, and undertook to do the job. He went to theHenry-street palatial mansion with his smallest camera under his arm,and when he got into the parlor he sent for the young lady. But shedidn't see it in that light, my boy, and she wouldn't come down. For amoment the poor chap was in a fix; but he was there to take herportrait, or perish in the attempt, and as he saw an oil-painting ofthe young girl over the mantelpiece, he took that, and skedaddled. Thenext day the breastpin-chap called at his Louvre again, and says to him:
"Have you taken Sary's portrait?"
"Yes," says the artist chap, "I took it."
"Where is it?" says the breastpin-chap with emotion.
"There it is," says the artist-chap, pointing to the oil-painting, witha pleasing expression of countenance.
As high art is not appreciated in this country, my boy, a policemancalled at the Louvre that afternoon and removed the artist-chap to aplace which is so musical that all the windows have bars, and each mancarries a stave.
As my taste for music is not uncontrollable at present, my boy, and Ican't write a full account of a battle, without referring in somedegree to the struggle, which we are forbidden to mention, I shall notbe particular as to details.
I am permitted to say that I went down to Paris with my gothic steedPegasus on Monday last, and found the Mackerel Brigade coming backacross Duck Lake with the frantic intention of changing its base ofoperations. The Conic Section, my boy, had been ordered to advance andforce the Southern Confederacy to compel it to retreat, and therapidity with which this was accomplished was a brilliant vindicationof the consummate strategy of the general of the Mackerel Brigade. Ifound the general a few miles back of the scene of action issuingorders--for the same, with a little more sugar, and says I:
"Well, my indefatigable Napoleon, have you changed your basesuccessfully?"
The general smiled like a complacent porpoise, and says he:
"We've reached our second base, my friend, being compelled to do so bythe treble force of the enemy."
I went on to the second base, which I reached just in time to seeCaptain Villiam Brown, on his geometrical steed Euclid, arresting theflight of Company 3, Regiment 5, under Captain Samyule Sa-mith.
"Samyule! Samyule!" says Villiam, feeling behind him to make sure thathis canteen was all right, "is this the way you treat the United Statesof America at such a critical period in her distracted history?"
"I scorn your insinivation," says Samyule, "and repel your observation.I am executing a rapid flank movement according to Hardee."
"Ah!" says Villiam, "excuse my flighty remarks. I do not mean to saythat you can be frightened," says Villiam, soothingly; "but it's myopinion that your mother was very much annoyed by a large-sized _fly_just before you were added to the census of the United States ofAmerica."
Villiam's idea of the connection between cause and effect, my boy, isas clear as a brandy-punch when the sugar settles.
The battle now raged in a manner which I am not permitted to describe,with results I am not allowed to communicate. Villiam appeared whereverthe fray was the thickest, waving his celebrated sword Escalibar(Anglo-Saxon of crowbar), and encouraging all the faint-hearted ones toget between himself and the blazing Confederacy. Borne a considerabledistance backward by the force of circumstances, he had reached acomparatively clear spot in the rear, when he suddenly found himselfconfronted by Captain Munchausen, of the Southern Confederacy.
Captain Munchausen was mounted upon the thinnest excuse for four legsthat I ever saw, my boy; and what tempted nature to form such an excusewhen the same amount of bone-work would have brought more money, it wasnot for mortal man to know.
"Ha!" says Villiam, hastily reining-up Euclid, and touching his swordEscalibar, ominously, "we meet once more to discuss the great nationalquestion of personal carnage."
"Sir," says Captain Munchausen, superciliously waving his keen edgedpoker and drawing his fiery steed up from his knees, "it is my privateintention to produce some slaughter in a private family of the name ofBrown."
Fire flashed from Villiam's eyes, he replaced a small flask in hisbosom, and says he:
"Come on, and let the fight come off."
Then, my boy, commenced a series of equestrian manoeuvres calculated toexemplify all the latest improvements in cavalry tactics and patentcircusses.--Round and round each other rode the fierce foemen, bobbingconvulsively in their saddles like exasperated jumping-jacks, andcutting the atmosphere into minute slices with their deadly blades. Nowdid the determined Villiam amble sideways toward the rebel, thrustingfiercely at him when only a few yards intervened between them; and anondid the foaming Munchausen wriggle fiercely backward against thehaunches of the steed Euclid, slashing right and left with tumultuousperspiration.
It was when this thrilling combat was at the hottest that the steedEuclid, being exasperated by a large blue-bottle fly, arose airily tohis hind legs, and carried the Union champion right on top of hisenemy. Down came the glittering Escalibar on the shoddy helmet of theastonished Munchausen; but the deadly blade was not sharp enough forits purpose, and only caused the foeman to make hasty profane remarks.
"Ah!" says Villiam, bitterly, eyeing his sword as Euclid waltzedbackward, "I forgot to sharpen my brand after cutting that last plateof smoke-beef."
"Surrender!" shouted the unmanly Munchausen, noticing that Villiam wassheathing his blade, and bearing gracefully down upon him in anelaborate equestrian polka.
"Never!" says Villiam, drawing his revolver, and firing madly into thesetting sun.
Swiftly as the lightning flashes did the Confederate champion followsuit with his pistol, sending a bullet horribly whizzing into thenearest tree.
"Die!" shouted Villiam, prancing excitedly in all directions, anddelivering another shot. Then he gazed upon his revolver with anexpression of inexpressible woe. The weapon had deceived him!
"Perish!" roared Munchausen, discharging another barrel as he wenthopping about. After which, he ground his teeth, and gazed upon hispistol with speechless fury. The weapon had played him false!
I was gazing with breathless interest on this desperate encounter, myboy, expecting to see more slaughter, when Captain Munchausen suddenlyturned his spirited stallion, and fled frantically from
the scene; forhe had heard the shouts of the approaching Mackerels, and did not careto be taken just then.
"Ha!" says Villiam, gazing severely at Company 3, Regiment 5, as itcame pouring forward, "has the Southern Confederacy concluded to submitto the United States of America?"
What the answer was, my boy, I am not allowed to say; but you may restsatisfied that a thing has been done which I am not permitted todivulge; and should this lead, as I hope it will, to a movement I amnot suffered to make public, it cannot fail to result in a consummationwhich I am forbidden to make known. But if, on the other hand, thestrategic movement which I am not at liberty to describe should befollowed by a stroke I am restrained from explaining, you will findthat the effect it would not be judicious in me to set forth, willproduce a consequence which the War Department denies me the privilegeof developing.
I was speaking to a New England Congress chap, this morning, concerningthe recent events which I am compelled to remain silent about, and,says he: "The proper way to save the Union is to bewilder the rebels byissuing calls for fresh troops at breakfast-time, and countermandingthe calls as soon as the coffee comes in. Strategy," says the gravelegislative chap, thoughtfully, "is not confined to the tented field;it may be used with good effect by Cabinet ministers; and our recentproposal to reduce the army 150,000 men was a piece of consummatelegislative strategy."
Legislative strategy is a very good thing to bewilder the rebels, myboy; and if it also bewilders everybody else, the moral effect of theadjournment of Congress will prove rather beneficial than otherwise toour distracted country.
Yours, under suppression, ORPHEUS C. KERR.