Letters of Major Jack Downing, of the Downingville Militia Part 3

Your affectionate neece,

JERUSHA MATILDA JENKINS.

Wen I got thrue, Linkin jumped rite up out of his cheer and stomped his foot so as to make the house shake. Ses he, "What a cussed hole that Port Royal must be!" Decon Jenkins ses he, "Don't speak wickedly with your lips, Mr. President." "Wal," ses Linkin, "it _is_ a _cussed_ hole, and I ken prove it by the Scriptur." "I guess not," ses the Decon.

"Wal," ses Linkin, "didn't the Lord cuss the earth for man's sins?"

"Yes," ses the Decon. "Wal, I'de like to know," ses Linkin, "whether you think Port Royal _was an excepshin_?" I never seed a feller look so chop-fallen as the Decon did, and I snorted rite out a laughin, for the Decon thinks he's so smart on Scriptur. Linkin, however, declares that he ain't got nothin to do with this n.i.g.g.e.r schule teachin, but that it is all Chase's plans. But its turnin out jest as I expected; Jerusha now begins to see that what I telled her was true. The gal will be comin back afore long, you may be sure, but she'll be cured of n.i.g.g.e.rism; that will be one good thing. I only wish I could send all the old maids and silly gals in New England down there. They would soon get the n.i.g.g.e.r notions out of their heads.

Your frend,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.

LETTER VI.

_The Question of the "Contrybands"--Lincoln and the Major Discuss It--The Major Tells a Story--Shows Mr. Lincoln That the Government is out of Order--Says It's a "Dimmycratic Machine" and that Seward and Chase Don't Know How to Run It--They are Like Old Jim Dumb.u.t.ter and the Threshing Machine--The Major Tells Another Story--"The Kernel" Gets a Joke on Seward--Tells a Story About the "Giascutis."_

WASHINGTON, April 15th, 1862.

_To the Editers of The Cawcashin:_

SURS: I've ben kinder sick sence I writ you last. The truth is, this clymate in the spring is ralely very weeknin to the const.i.tushin.

Linkin, too, has been terribully anxus about war noose, and the nigh approach of hot weather. But the great subjeck which the Kernel and I have been considerin is the "contrybands." What is to be done with 'em?

That's the questshin, and Linkin ses he'd like to see the feller that can tell him. One night Linkin got a big map, an he sot down, and "Now," ses he, "Majer, let's take a look at all creashin, an see ef ther aint sum place whar we kin send these pesky kinky heds, and git red of 'em." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I'm agreed." So we went at it.

First Linkin put his finger on Haty. "Now," ses he, "ther's an iland that jest suits the n.i.g.g.e.r const.i.tushin. Suppose they go thar?" "But,"

ses I, "Kernel, they won't go, an ef they did, they wouldn't do nothin." "Wal," ses he, "no matter, ef they won't trouble us here enny longer." "But," ses I, "ther's one more resin. The iland aint large enuff to hold all the n.i.g.g.e.rs--four millions or thereabouts." "Wal,"

ses he, "ther's Centril Ameriky--what do you think of that spot?"

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that's a fine country, naterally. The Creator fixed it up on a grand skale, but you can't make a treaty with it, enny more than you can count the spots on a little pig, when he keeps runin about the hull time. The truth is, you can't tell who'll be President of it from one mornin to the next, and the n.i.g.g.e.rs you send there might all git their throats cut jest as soon as they landed." "Wal," ses Linkin, "that's a _slight_ objecshin. But let's turn over to Afriky.

There's Libery, how would that do, Major?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that country is about the biggest humbug of the hull lot. Fust off, sum raly good peopul thought it was goin to amount to sumthin, but after forty years of spendin money on it, ther aint enny more chanst of civilizin Afriky in that way than ther is of makin a rifled cannon out of a ba.s.swood log. A few dominys, who can't git enny boddy willin to hear 'em preach, hev got hold of it, an are makin a good thing out of it. As for sending our n.i.g.g.e.rs ther, why it would take all the shippin of the world, and more money than Chase could print by steam in a year."

"Wal," ses Linkin, "where on arth kin we send 'em?" "Now," ses I, "Kernel, I've got an idee of my own about that matter. I think they are best off where they are and jest as they are, but ef you must git red of 'em, I would send 'em all to Ma.s.sa-chews-its! Peepul who are so anxus to have other folks overrun with free n.i.g.g.e.rs ought to be willin to share sum of the blessins themselves. So let all that are here in Washington be sent rite off to Boston." "Yes, that might do," ses Linkin, "but then, ef they are ent.i.tled to their freedom, they orter be allowed to go where they are a mind to." "But," ses I, "sum States won't have 'em at all, an they can't go there. So what's to be done?"

"Wal," ses Linkin, "I tell you what it is, Majer, this is an almighty tuff subjeck. I know somethin about splittin rails, and what hard work is ginerally, but this n.i.g.g.e.r questshin has puzzled me more than enny thing I ever got hold of before." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I kin explain the resin why." Ses he, "Let's hear you, Majer." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, where do you carry your pocket-book?" Ses he, "What on arth has that to do with the subjeck?" Ses I, "Hold on, you'll see." "Wal," ses he, "I always carry it rite there, in my left hand trowsers pocket." Ses I, "Didn't you ever have a hole in that pocket for a day or two, and had to put your pocket-book in sum other?" Ses he, "Majer, I have." Ses I, "What did you do with it then?" "Wal," ses he, "I put it in my right hand pocket, but it kinder chafed my leg there, cause it warn't used to it, and it also felt mity onhandy. So I put it in my side coat pocket, but every time I stooped over it would drop out. Then I put it in my coat tail pocket, but I was kept all the time on the _qui vivers_, afeerd sum pickpocket would steal it. At last, in order to make it safe, and sure, I put it in the top of my hat, under sum papers, but the hat was too top-heavy, and over it went, spilling everything. I tell you I was glad when my pocket was fixed, and I got it back in the old spot."

"Now," ses I, "Kernel, that's jest the case with the n.i.g.g.e.rs. The minnit you get 'em out of ther place, you don't know what on arth to do with 'em. Now, we've been here all the evenin sarchin over the map to see ef we can't find sum place to put 'em. But it is all no manner of use. You've got to do with 'em jest as you did with your pocket-book.

Put 'em whar they belong, an then you won't have any more trubbil."

Linkin didn't see eggzatly how I was gwin to apply the story, an wen he did, he looked kinder struck up. Wen I saw that I hed made a hit on him, I follered it up. Ses I, "Kernel, this government ain't out of order, as Seward an Chase kontend. They are only tryin to run it _the rong way_--that's what makes all the trubbil. I once hed a thrashin machine, an I sold it to old Jim Dumb.u.t.ter, an after he got it he sed it warn't good for nothin--that it wouldn't run, &c. So I went over to see it, an I vow ef he didn't have the machine all rong eend foremist.

I went to work at it, an, after a leetle wile, it went off like grease, jest as slick as a whistle. You see, old Dumb.u.t.ter didn't onderstand the machine, an, therefore, he couldn't make it go. Now," ses I, "Kernel, our Const.i.tushin is a Dimmycratic machine, an its got to be run as a Dimmycratic machine, or it _won't run at all_! Now, you see, Seward is tryin to run it on his 'higher law' principle, but it warn't made for that, an the consekence is, the thing is pretty nigh smashed up."

"Wal," ses Linkin, "things do look kinder dark. I don't know whar we will come out, but I guess I'll issoo a proclamashin for the ministers to pray for us. Perhaps they will do sum good." Ses I, "Kernel, that reminds me of old Elder Doolittle, who c.u.m along the road one day rite by whar old Sol Hopkins, a very wicked old sinner, was hoein corn. The season was late, as the corn was mity slim. Ses the Elder: 'Mr.

Hopkins, your corn is not very forrard this year.' 'No, its monstrus poor,' ses Hopkins, 'an I guess I shan't have half a crop.' 'Wal,' ses the Elder, 'Mister Hopkins, you ought to pray to the Lord for good crops; perhaps He will hear you.' 'Wal, perhaps He will, an perhaps He won't;' ses old Sol, 'but I'll be darned ef I don't beleave that this corn needs _manure_ a tarnel sight more than it does prayin for.' Now,"

ses I, "Linkin, I think this country is somethin like old Hopkinses corn. _It_ needs _statesmanship a good deal more than prayin for._"

Linkin didn't seem to like that observashin of mine much, for he turned the subjick, an he ain't axed me what it was best to do with the n.i.g.g.e.rs sence.

The other day the Kernel got off a good joke on Seward. You know what a solem looking chap he is naterally. Wal, since he has got to be Chief Clark of the President, he seems to look solemer than ever. He c.u.m into Linkin's room, an the Kernel ses, "Have you heerd the news, Boss?"

"No," ses Seward, "what is it?" "Wal," ses Linkin, "the Giascutis is loose." "What's that?" ses Seward. "Why," ses Linkin, "ain't you never heerd the story of the Giascutis?" Seward sed he never had. "Wal," ses the Kernel, "I must tell you. Several years ago, a couple of Yankees were travellin out West, an they got out of money. So they koncluded to 'raise the wind' as follers:--They were to go into a village; an announce a show, pretendin that they had a remarkabul animal, which they had jest captured on the Rocky Mountings. A bran new beast such as was never seen before. The name was the 'Giascutis.' It was to be shown in a room, and one of the fellers was to play 'Giascutis.' He was put behind a screen an had some chains to shake, an he also contrived to growl or howl as no critter ever did before. Wal, the peeple of the village all c.u.m to see the Giascutis, an, after the room was filled, his companion began to explain to the audience what a terribul beast he had, how he killed ten men, two boys and five hosses in ketchin him, an now how had got him, at 'enormous expense,' to show him. Jest as everybody was gapin an starin, thar was, all at once, a most terrific growlin, and howlin, an rattlin of chains; an, in the excitement, the showman, almost breathless, yelled out, at the top of his voice, 'the Giascutis is loose. Run! run! run!' An away went the people down stairs, heels over head, losin all they had paid, an seein nothin.

Now," ses Linkin, "'the Merrymac is out,' an when I read about the vessels, an tug-boats, an steamers, all scamperin off as soon as she was seen, I thought she was the 'Giascutis,' sure, only I'm afraid she is a real Giascutis, an no mistake." Since then, Linkin calls the Merrymac the Giascutis all the time.

Your friend,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.

LETTER VII.

_War "Noose"--The President's Anxiety--Mr. Lincoln Determines to Apply "the Principle"--The Story of Zenas Homespun--The Major's Views on Negroes--Poetry--The Emanc.i.p.ation Ball--The Major Going to "Cifer"

on the Finances._

WASHINGTON, April 29th, 1862.

_To the Editers of The Cawcashin:_

SURS:--We are all on the _qui vivers_ here for war noose. Linkin gets up sometimes in the middul of the nite to hear a dis.p.a.ch received by Sekratary Stantin, and as much of it as is thought good for the health of the peepil is sent to the papers. The other nite Linkin called me.

This was very unushul for him, for he ginrally tells me in the mornin, at the breckfast tabel, and axes my opinion, but he sent for me that nite and sed that I must git up and read the noose. So I went down and he showed me the dis.p.a.ch that Gennerral Mitch.e.l.l got of Bowregards.

"Now," ses the Kernel, "you see, Majer, we've got the raskils in a korner. They've got to fite or run, and if they fite they're licked, and if they run they're licked. We shall now soon have Memfus, and that jest pens up Jeff Davis in Virginny. You see, Majer, Bowregard ses he ain't got but 35,000 troops." Ses I, "Kernel, let me take a look at that dis.p.a.ch." I put on my specs and read it over twice or three times very kerfully, and then ses I, "Kernel, I don't think you orter put grate faith in that. As Elder Doolittle used to say, 'it may be a bee, and then agin it may be a wasp.' That Bowregard is a grate feller at stratagy, and it might be another dodge of his. And then agin, Kernel, that was afore you signed the bill abolishin slavery in the District of Columby. As sure as your born that will be worth a hundred thousan sojers to Jeff Davis." "Wal," ses Linkin, "let it, who cares? The truth is, Majer, we Republicans have been talkin about the great principle of the equality of all men, includin Injins, n.i.g.g.e.rs, Chinees and so on, and now they want me to apply the principle, and I'm goin to do it. I think there is sum humbug in it sumwhere, but I don't exactly see where, and as they will give me no peace, and will never be satisfied ennyhow until it is dun, I'm goin to put it thru." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, go ahed, but look out for squalls. Perhaps," ses I, "you never heerd the story about Zenas Humspum 'applyin the principle. I hope you won't hev as bad luck as he did." "No," ses Linkin, "I never heerd that story. What was it?" "Wal," ses I, "Zenas was a good-natered feller, who lived in Downingville, and a wonderful inquirin sort of a chap, allers and forever prying into things. If he bought a clock he'd take it all apart with his jack-nife, jest to see how it went together. So about the time that the telegraph was started and an offis was set up in our town, Zenas was eenamost puzzled to deth to get the hang of the critter, as he called it. One day he went to the offis and axed the feller to show him all about it. The chap was very perlite, and explained to him the grate principle on which it worked, but Zenas didn't exactly see through it, and kept axing questions and botherin the feller till he got clean out of pashins. Finally, ses he to Zenas, 'Perhaps you would like to see me apply the principle.' Zenas said he would, of course. 'Wal,' ses he, 'then you jest take hold of them bra.s.s n.o.bs and stick to 'em tight.' So Zenas grabbed hold of 'em like all possessed, but he hadn't more than fairly got hold before he lay sprawlin on the floor. The 'principle' had knocked him clean over. Now, Zenas was a terribul feller to smoke, and allers carried his pockets full of lusifer matches to lite his pipe with. It so happened that he had a hull box-full in his coat-tail pocket as he keeled over on the floor, and as he fell they scratched agin one another so strong that they all got afire. It warn't but a little while afore Zenas' coat-tail was all in a blaze, and before it could be put out it had burnt an awful big hole in the seat of his trowsers, and schorched him thereabouts amazinly. Zenas yelled and hollered awful, and sed he didn't want to know enthing more about 'applyin the principle.' Now,"

ses I, "Kernel, I hope you won't hev as bad luck as Zenas did, but depend on't, this applyin principles you don't exactly understand is dangerous business. If you don't get burnt somewhere it will be a wonder."

"Wal," ses Linkin, "Majer, you are a cute chap in tellin a story, but now, tell me, do you think the n.i.g.g.e.r an the white man didn't c.u.m from the same parrient?" "Now," ses I, "Kernel, that's axin a deep question.

You see its onpossibul to tell what the Creatur may have done. He might have made only one kind of man at fust, an then altered their const.i.tushins, an complexions, an brains afterwards. You see everything is possibul to the Creatur. Or the n.i.g.g.e.r may have c.u.m from Ham, who was cussed for his sins, but then I don't see that it is enything agin the scriptoors to believe that all the kinds of men were made at the beginnin jest as they are now. But it don't make eny difference how they c.u.m so, so long as they _are_ different. You can't eny more make a white man out of a n.i.g.g.e.r now than you can breed a lion out of a polecat. You see, it's clar agin natur to expect to make the n.i.g.g.e.r enything but a n.i.g.g.e.r. You can't get a peach out of a crab-apple, nor a pumpkin out of a watermelon, nor eagles out of ducks' eggs. You can't raise chickens from egg-plants, or produce goslins from gooseberries.

You see, Kernel, everything in natur must go accordin to natur. If the n.i.g.g.e.r had been intended to be equil to the white man, hed been made jest like a white man, and the very fact that he ain't made so, is proof positive that he warn't intended to be put in a white man's place. Trying to make a n.i.g.g.e.r act like a white man is jest like old Sol Hopkins, one year harnessing his off ox an his hoss together to plow corn. The ox was lazy as he could be, an the hoss was a young, high-strung animil, an such a pullin an haulin team you never did see.

It almost killed both. You see, it was workin agin natur. It was tryin to make a hoss an ox, and an ox a hoss, neither of which things can be did. You see, Kernel, _everything in natur must go according to natur_."

"Wal," ses Linkin, "there is a good deal in what you say, but then the peepil don't believe it. They think the n.i.g.g.e.r is only accidentally black, and if he lacks in mind and capacity, it is all owin to slavery, an they won't believe eny other way until they see for themselves. I tell you, Majer, the principle has got to be applied, no matter how meny coat-tails or how meny trowsers are burnt."

"But," ses I, "Kernel, can't they see how the thing has worked in places whar n.i.g.g.e.r equality has been tried?" "That don't settle the question, Majer. Peepil are jest like hogs in that respect. Did you ever see a lot of hot swill put in a trough, an every single hog in the pen would go an stick in his snoot an get it burned? Not one would larn from the others. After we've tried n.i.g.g.e.r equality, we'll know what it is, an how we like it. We must apply the principle, an in some way, you may depend upon it Majer, all the n.i.g.g.e.rs down South will be sot free."

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I guess that there are other folks who think jest as you do, for somebody has sent me some va.r.s.es in relashin to the nex great emanc.i.p.ashin which is to c.u.m off, cut from some noospaper. I will read 'em to you:

THE EMANc.i.p.aTION BALL,

GIVEN TO FOUR MILLIONS OF NEGROES, BY THE GREAT REPUBLICAN P-A-I-R-T-Y.

Anodder Great Ball is soon to be, De like of which you nebber did see, De bids is out I's seen a few, De guests I know, and so do you.

Lubly Rosa! Sambo come!

Don't you hear de banjo?

Tum! Tum! Tum!

De fust on de list is Mistah Snow, And de nex is Jeemes and Dinah Crow; Chalk and ivory! heels and shins!

White man wait till the dance begins!

Lubly Rosa! Sambo come!

Don't you hear de banjo?

Tum! Tum! Tum!