This squadron, my boy, consisted of one twenty-eight-inch row-boat,mounting a twelve-inch swivel, and commanded by Commodore Head, late ofthe Canal-boat Service. It is iron-plated after a peculiar manner. Whenthe ingenious chap who was to iron-plate it commenced his work,Commodore Head ordered him to put the plates on the _inside_ of theboat, instead of outside, as in the case of the Monitor and Galena.
"What do you mean?" says the contractor.
"Why," says the commodore, "ain't them iron plates intended to protectthe crew?"
"Yes," says the contractor.
"Well, then, you poor ignorant cuss," says the commodore, in a greatpassion, "what do you want to put the plates on the outside for? Thecrew won't be on the outside--will it? The crew will be on theinside--won't it? And how are you going to protect the crew on theinside by putting iron plates on the outside?"
Such reasoning, my boy, was convincing, and the Mackerel Squadron isplated inside.
While I was contemplating this new triumph of American navalarchitecture, and wondering what they would say about it in Europe, anorderly rode up and handed a scrap of paper to Villiam.
"Ha!" says Villiam, perusing the message, and then passing it to me,"the veteran O'Pake has not deceived the United States of America."
The message was directed to the General of the Mackerel Brigade, myboy, and read as follows:
"GENERAL:--_In accordance with your orders, I have destroyed the mill d--n._
"O'PAKE."
"And now," says Villiam, returning his canteen to his bosom and pullingout his ruffles, "the United States of America will proceed to captureParis with great slaughter. Let the Brigade form in marching order,while the fleet proceeds around by water, after the manner of LordNelson."
The Mackerel Brigade was quickly on the march, headed by the band, whoplayed an entirely new version of "Hail Columbia" on his key bugle.Tramp, tramp, tramp! and we found ourselves in position before Paris.
MAP OF THE WORLD, SHOWING THE POSITION OF THE MACKERELBRIGADE AT THE GREAT BATTLE OF PARIS.]
Paris, my boy, was a city of two houses previous to the recent greatfire, which destroyed half of it, and we found it fortified with astrong picket-fence and counterscarp earthworks, from the top of whichfrowned numerous guns of great compass.
The Mackerel Brigade was at once formed in line-of-battle-order--theline being not quite as straight as an ordinary Pennsylvaniarailroad--while the fleet menaced the water-front of the city from DuckLake.
You may not be able to find Duck Lake on the maps, my boy, as it isonly visible after a heavy rain.
Previous to the attack, a balloon, containing a Mackerel chap, and atelescope shaped like a bottle, was sent up to reconnoitre.
"Well," says Villiam to the chap when he came down, "what is the forceof the Confederacy?"
The chap coughed respectfully, and says he:
"I could only see one Confederacy, which is an old woman!"
"Scorpion!" says Villiam, his eyes flashing like the bottoms of tworeversed tumblers, "I believe you to be an accursed abolitionist. Goinstantly to the rear," says Villiam, fiercely, "and read the Report ofthe Van Wyck Investigating Committee."
It was a terrible punishment, my boy, but the example was needed forthe good of the service.
The Orange County Howitzers now advanced to the front, and poured aterrible fire in the direction of a point about half way between thenearest steeple and the meridian, working horrible carnage in a flockof pigeons that happened to be passing at the time.
"Splendid, my glorious Prooshians!" says Villiam, just escaping a fallfrom his saddle by the convulsive start of Euclid, that noble war-horsehaving been suddenly roused from a pleasant doze by thefiring--"Splendid, my artillery darlings. Only," says Villiam,thoughtfully, "as the sun is a friendly power, don't aim at him soaccurately next time."
Meantime, Company 3, Regiment 5, had advanced from the right, and werejust about to make a splendid bayonet-charge, by the oblique, over thepicket-fence and earthwork, when the concealed Confederacy suddenlyopened a deadly fire of old shoes, throwing the Mackerels into greatconfusion.
Almost simultaneously, a large potato struck the fleet on Duck Lake onthe nose, so intensely exciting him that he incontinently touched offhis swivel, to the great detriment of the surrounding country.
This was a critical moment, my boy; the least trifle on either sidewould have turned the scale, and given the victory to either party.Villiam Brown had just assumed the attitude in which he desired FrankLeslie's Illustrated Artist to draw him, when a familiar domesticutensil came hissing through the lurid air from the rebel works, andexploded in two pieces at his feet.
"Ha!" says Villiam, eyeing the fragments with great pallor, "they havecommenced to throw shell."
In another moment that incomparable officer was at the head of astorming party; and as the fleet opened fire on the cabbage-patch inthe rear of the enemy's position, an impetuous charge was precipitatedin front.
Though met by a perfect hail of turnips, stove-covers, andkindling-wood, the Mackerels went over the fence like a fourth-proofavalanche, and hemmed in the rebel garrison with walls of bayonets.
"Surrender to the Union Anaconda and the United States of America,"thundered Villiam.
"You're a nasty, dirty creetur," responded the garrison, who was an oldlady of venerable aspect.
"Surrender, or you're a dead man, my F. F. Venus," says Villiam,majestically.
The old lady replied with a look of scorn, my boy, walked deliberatelytoward the road, and when last seen was proceeding in the direction ofRichmond under a green silk umbrella and a heavy press of snuff.
Now it happened, just after we had formally taken possession of thecity, while the band was playing martial airs, and the fleet winding uphis chronometer, that the General of the Mackerel Brigade made hisappearance on the field, and was received with loud cheers by those whobelieved that he brought their pay back with him.
"My children," says the general, with a paternal smile, "don't praiseme for an achievement in which all have won such imperishable laurels.I have only done my jooty."
This speech, my boy, made a great impression upon me on account of itstouching modesty. War, my boy, is calculated to promote an amount ofbashful modesty never equaled except in Congress, and I have knownbrigadiers so self-deprecatory that they lived in a state of perpetualblush--especially at the ends of their noses.
Yours, inadequately,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XLV.
EXEMPLIFYING THE INCONSISTENCY OF THE CONSERVATIVE ELEMENT, AND SETTINGFORTH THE MEASURES ADOPTED BY CAPTAIN VILLIAM BROWN IN HIS MILITARYGOVERNMENT OF PARIS.
WASHINGTON, D.C., May 18th, 1862.
Suffer me, my boy, to direct your attention to the Congress of our oncedistracted country, which is now shedding a beautiful lustre over thewhole nation, and exciting that fond emotion of admiration whichinclines the human foot to perform a stern duty. "Congress," saysCaptain Samyule Sa-mith, nodding to the bar-keeper, and designating aparticular bottle with his finger--"Congress," says he, "is a honor anda ornament to our bleeding land. The fortunes of war may fluctuate, therose may fade; but Congress is ever stable. Yes," says Samyule, in abeautiful burst of enthusiasm, softly stirring the Oath in his tumblerwith a toothpick, "Congress is stable--in short, a stable full ofmules."
The Conservatives from the Border States, my boy, look upon theSouthern Confederacy as a brother, whom it is our duty to protectagainst the accursed designs of the fiendish Abolitionists, who wouldmake this war one of bloodshed. They ignore all party feeling, supportthe Constitution as it was, in contra-distinction to what it is, andobject to any Confiscation measure calculated to irritate our misguidedbrothers and sisters in that beautiful land where
The suitor he goes to the planter so grand, And "Give me your daughter," says he, "For each unto other we've plighted our loves-- I love her and so she loves me," Says he, "And married we're wi
shing to be."
The planter was deeply affected indeed, Such touching devotion to see; "The giving I couldn't afford; but I'll sell Her for six hundred dollars to thee," Says he, "Her mother was worth that to me."
Which I quote from a sweet ballad I recently found among some rebelleave-ings at Yorktown.
These conservative patriots, my boy, remind me of a chap I once knew inthe Sixth Ward. A high moral chap, my boy, and full of venerabledignity. One night the virtuous cuss doing business next door to him,having just got a big insurance on his stock, and thinking himself safefor a flaming speculation, set fire to his own premises and then called"Murder" on the next corner. Out came the whole Fire Department, onlystopping to have two fights and a scrimmage on the way, and pretty soonthe water was pouring all over every house in the street except the oneon fire. The high moral chap stuck his head out of the window, and sayshe:
"This here fire ain't in my house, and I don't want no noise aroundthis here residence."
Upon this, some of our gallant firemen, who had just been into afashionable drinking-shop not more than two blocks off, to see if anyof the sparks had got in there, called to the chap to let them into hishouse, so that they might get at the conflagration more easily.
"Never!" said the chap, shaking his nightcap convulsively; "I didn'tset fire to Joneses, and I can't have no Fire Department running aroundmy entries."
"See here, old blue-pills," says one of the firemen, pleasantly, "ifyou don't let us in, your own crib will go to blazes in ten minutes."
But the dignified chap only shut down the window and went to bed again,saying his prayers backwards. I would not accuse a noble Department ofviolence, my boy, but in about three minutes there was a doubleback-action machine standing in that chap's front entry, withthree-inch streams out of all the back windows. The fire was put outwith only half a hose company killed and wounded, and next day therewas a meeting to see what should be done with the incendiary when hewas caught. The high moral chap was at that meeting very early, andsays he:
"Let me advise moderation in this here unhappy matter. I feel deeplyinterested," says the chap, with tears; "for I assisted to put out theconflagration by permitting the use of my house by the firemen. Ialmost feel," says the genial chap, "like a fellow fireman myself."
At this crisis, a chap who was assistant engineer, and also Secretaryto the Board of Education, arose, and says he:
"What are yer coughin' about, old peg-top? Didn't me and the fellershave to cave in your door with a night-key wrench--sa-a-ay? Whatare yer gassin' about, then? _You_ did a muchness--_you_ did!Yes--slightually--_in_ a horn. Now," says the gallant fireman,with an agreeable smile, "if you don't jest coil in yer hose and takethe sidewalk very sudden, it'll be my duty, as a member of theDepartment, to bust yer eye."
I commend this chaste and rhetorical remark, my boy, to the attentionof Border State Conswervatives.
Since the occupation of Paris by the Mackerel Brigade, affairs therehave been administered with great intellectual ability by CaptainVilliam Brown, who has been appointed Provisional Governor, to governthe sale of provisions.
The city of Paris, my boy, as I told you lately, is laid out in onehouse at present; and since the discovery, that what were at firstsupposed to be Dahlgren guns by our forces were really a number of oldhats with their rims cut off, laid in a row on top of the earthworks,the democracy have stopped talking about the General of the MackerelBrigade for next President.
The one house, however, was a boarding-house; and though all theboarders left at the approach of our troops, it was subsequentlydiscovered that all of them save one, were good Union men, and werebrutally forced to fly by that one Confederate miscreant. When Villiamheard of the fate of these noble and oppressed patriots, my boy, hesuffered a tear to drop into the tumbler he had just found, and sayshe:
"Just Hevings! can this be so? Ah!" says Villiam, lifting a bottle nearby to see that no rebel was concealed under it, "I will issue aproclamation calculated to conciliate the noble Union men of the sunnySouth, and bring them back to those protecting folds in which ourinedycated forefathers folded theirselves."
Nobody believed it could be done, my boy--nobody believed it could bedone; but Villiam understood his species, and issued the following
PROCLAMATION.
The Union men of the South are hereby informed that the United States of America has reasserted hisself, and will shortly open a bar-room in Paris. Also, cigars and other necessaries of life. By order of
CAPTAIN VILLIAM BROWN, Eskevire.
"There," says Villiam, "the human intelleck may do what violence mightfail to accomplish. Ah!" says Villiam, "moral suasion is more majestikthan an army with banners."
In just half an hour after the above Proclamation was issued, my boy,the hum of countless approaching voices called us to the ramparts. Avast multitude was approaching. It was the Union men of the South, myboy, who had read the manifesto of a beneficent Government, and werecoming back to take the Oath--with a trifle of sugar in it.
How necessary it is, my boy, that men intrusted with importantcommands--generals and governors responsible for the pacification andwelfare of misguided provinces--should understand just how and when totouch that sensitive chord in our common nature which vibratesresponsively when man is invited to take something by his fellow-man.
Scarcely had Villiam assumed his office and suppressed two reporters,when there were brought before him a fugitive contraband of the colorof old meerschaum, and a planter from the adjacent county, who claimedthe slave.
"It's me--that's Misther Murphy--would be afther axing your riverenceto return the black crayture at once," says the planter; "for itsmeself that owns him, and he runn'd away right under me nose and eyesas soon as me back was turned."
"Ah!" says Villiam, balancing a tumbler in his right hand. "Are you aSoutherner, Mr. Murphy?"
"Yaysir," says Mr. Murphy, "it's that I am, intirely. Be the sametoken, I was raised and born in the swate South--the South of Ireland."
"Are you Chivalry?" says Villiam, thoughtfully.
"Is it Chivalry!--ah, but it's that I am, and me father before me, andme childers that's afther me. If Chivalry was praties I could furnish adinner to all the wur-ruld, and have enough left to fade the pigs."
"Murphy is a French name," says Villiam, drawing a copy of Vattel onInternational Law from his pocket and glancing at it, "but I will notdispute what you say. You must do without your contraband, however; forslavery and martial law don't agree together in the United States ofAmerica."
"Mr. Black," says Villiam, gravely, turning to the emancipated African,"you have come to the right shop for freedom. You are from henceforth afreeman and a brother-in-law. You are now your own master," saysVilliam, encouragingly, "and no man has a right to order you about. Youare in the full enjoyment of Heving's best gift--Freedom! Go and blackmy boots."
The moral grandeur of this speech, my boy, so affected the Southernplanter that he at once became a Union man, took the Oath with theleast bit of water in it, and asked permission to have his own bootsblacked.
I have been deeply touched of late, my boy, by the reception of apresent from the ladies of Alexandria. It is a beautiful little dog,named Bologna (the women of America think that Bologna is the goddessof war, my boy), shaped like a door-mat rolled up, and elegantlyfrescoed down the sides in white and yellow. The note accompanying thegift was all womanly.
"Accept," it said, "this slight tribute, as an index of the feelingswith which the American women regards the noble volunteer. Wear thisgift next your heart when the fierce battle rages; but, in themeantime, give him a bone."
Bologna is a pointer, my boy--a Five-Pointer.
As a dead poet expresses it, Woman is "Heaven's noblest, best, and lastgood gift to man;" and I assure, you, my boy, that she is just the lastgift he cares about.
Yours, in bachelordliness,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XLVI.
WHEREIN IS SHOWN HOW THE GENERAL OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE FOLLOWED ANILLUSTRIOUS EXAMPLE, AND VETOED A PROCLAMATION. ALSO RECORDING AMILITARY EXPERIMENT WITH RELIABLE CONTRABANDS.
WASHINGTON, D.C., May 20th, 1862.
Rejoice with me, my boy, that I have got back my gothic steed, Pegasus,from the Government chap who borrowed him for a desk. The splendidarchitectural animal has just enough slant from his back-bone to hiships to make a capital desk, my boy; and then his tail is so handy towipe pens on. In a moment of thirst he swallowed a bottle of ink, andsome fears were entertained for his life; but a gross of steel pens anda ream of blotting paper, immediately administered, caused him to comeout all write. In a gothic sense, my boy, the charger continues toproduce architectural illusions. He was standing on a hill-side theother day, with his rear-elevation toward the spectators, his head upand ears touching at the top, when a chap, who has been made pious byfrequent conversation with the contrabands, noticed him afar off, andsays he to a soldier, "What church is that I behold in the distance, myfellow-worm of the dust?" The military veteran looked, and says he, "Itdoes look like a church; but it's only a animated hay-rack belonging tothe cavalry."
"I see," says the pious chap, moving on; "the beast looks like achurch, because he's been accustomed to steeple-chases."
I have also much satisfaction in the society of my dog, Bologna, myboy, who has already become so attached to me that I believe he woulddefend me against any amount of meat. Like the Old Guard of France,he's always around the bony parts thrown; and, like a _bon vivant_, ismuch given to whining after his dinner.