Letters of Major Jack Downing, of the Downingville Militia Part 7

As soon as the Kernel c.u.m to, he begun to joke. Ses he, "Majer, do you know why you and Seward and Stantin rollin me on the floor were like men spredin hay in a meadow?" Ses I, "No, Kernel, I don't, unless the pitchen and rollin are a good deal alike." "No, no," ses he, "Majer, the reason is because it was done to _cure_ me!" "Now," ses I, "Kernel, that is purty sharp, but do you know why your sickness is like the Union?" "No," ses he, "I don't see into that, unless it's because we're both haven a tough time of it." "No," ses I, "that ain't it." "Wal,"

ses he, "what is it?" "Wal," ses I, "because _it has been takin the rong medicen_!" Ses he, "How is that, Major? I don't understand you."

"Wal," ses I, "it's jest here. You know that feller who does ch.o.r.es for you sc.r.a.ped the elder bark the wrong way, and wen you took it, it come nigh on to killin you. But I didn't know but what it was all rite, and so I give it to you. Now, jest so it's been ever sence you've been President. Seward's been the feller who has been sc.r.a.pin the medicen for the Union, an he has _sc.r.a.ped it all the rong way_, an you've been giving it all the time without knowing it. You see, the hull country has got the gripes and the shakes, jest as you had a little while ago, and it all c.u.m from Seward's rong kind of medicen. You see, Seward is tryin to make the people swallow the 'irrepressible conflict,' which is fixed about as follows:

Higher Law 2 oz.

Confiscation 2 oz.

Taxation 2 oz.

Justice 0 oz.

Abolition 8 oz.

(well mixed.)"

"Now, Kernel, such a dose as that would give any country a worse set of spasms and agers then were ever heard of before. Old John Dumb.u.t.ter, the laziest man I ever knew in Maine, sed he once had the fever an ager in Mishegan so that it shook the b.u.t.tons off his coat; but such medicen as Seward is givin the country now will shake even the tail fethers out of the grate American Eagle."

Ses Linkin, ses he, "Hold on, Majer, don't pour sich hot shot into me when I'm sick." So I held up; but I tell you, the Kernel has felt very blue sence that time. One day ses he, "Majer, what a grate mistake I made in not makin Crittenden's compromise the basis of my administration; but it's no use cryin over spilt milk. The leaders of our party wanted the Chicago platform put through, and I'm the man to do what I undertake or sink in the attempt." "Or split the Union?" ses I. "Wal,"

ses he, "I don't know about that, but what's in the way must c.u.m down."

Things look very bad here jest now, and we all feel afraid that they may be worse instead of better. Stantin wants to issoo a proclamashin which he thinks will set all things rite, but Seward ses proclamashins are played out. Linkin thought at one time to put out a call for a day of fastin and prayer, but Hallack is opposed to it. So things are workin along now kinder slip shod, but I'll try to keep you posted as usual.

Yourn till deth,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.

LETTER XV.

_Gen. McClellan's Change of Base--A Bear Story--A Delegation of Clergymen--The Major's Opinion on Negroes and "Edecated Peepul"--How General Jackson Saw Through Them--How the War is to End--Mr. Lincoln Tells Another Story._

WASHINGTON, August 14, 1862.

_To the Editers of The Cawcashin:_

SURS:--It has been jest about the hottest wether, sence I writ you last, I ever did see. The Kernel ses he feels as limpsey as an eel, an I tell you it has taken the starch out of the hull of us. Ef I don't write a letter this time worth printin, it will be because my idees have all kinder oozed out through my skin. One day the Kernel ses to me, ses he, "Majer, what do you think about McClellan's new base on the Jeemes River?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, it reminds me for all the world of old Truxton Miller's bar hunt, away up in the north part of Maine, when I was boy." The Kernel likes to hear a story as well as to tell one, so he insisted that I should tell him all about it. So I proceeded: Ses I, "Old Truxton was the most noted bar hunter in all that part, an it warnt often when he got started after a bar that it ever got away. He could yell an holler equal to wild Injins, an he ginerally scart away all the varmints for several miles around. One spring the bars had been very trubbelsome, carryin off his sheep, lambs, an even calves an yearlins, and Truxton vowed he'd go an attack the bars in their den. So off he started with his dubbel-barrelled shot gun an his big dog, Harcules, for a regular bar hunt. He soon got on their track, an he followed them to their den. Jest as one was goin in he let go his gun an took one of 'em in the thigh. This only made matters worse, for out come two or three others, an soon the old feller was tackled on all sides. He felt pretty safe with Harcules, but soon the bars made for the dog, an they tore him to pieces in a jiffy.

Truxton shot one of 'em, but that put the infernals in the rest, an the old feller had to 'skedaddle,' as they say in these days. Seeing a tree handy by he started to go up, but a powerful beast fetched him a wipe with his paw an tore off the seat of his trowsers. He got away an that was all, an looked down on the bars in dismay. Now," ses I, "Kernel, I think that McClellan's 'new base' is something like old Truxton's. But all his neighbors turned out, an finally got the old feller out of his danger, an when he come down he made this remark, ses he, 'Neighbors, it's one thing to hunt a bar, but it's quite another thing _when the bar hunts you_!'" So ses I, "Kernel, it's one thing to hunt the secesh, but it's quite another thing when the secesh hunts you, an it appears to me as if McClellan is treed in his 'new base.'" "Wal, Majer," ses the Kernel, "how are we to get him away?" "Wal," ses I, "do jest as old Truxton's neighbors did--Scare off the bars! Scare off the secesh! Get around 'em on all sides an make them believe you are goin to attack 'em from every quarter, an they will soon scatter so that the Ginnerel can change his base agin. Call it 'a great piece of strutegy,' and the people won't know the difference." "Wal," ses the Kernel, "that's jest what has got to be done, and though it's a mity dangerous movement, rite in the face of the rebils, yet it must be done, or all the troops will die of disinterry where they are." Before this letter reaches your readers the tel_lie_graf will announce the hull movement.

The other day the Kernel had a call from some n.i.g.g.e.r preachers. He sent for 'em to have a talk about seein whether they wouldn't consent to go to Centril America, but they didn't seem to like it much. They sed they would think about it and report. I told the Kernel that when he got n.i.g.g.e.rs to immigrate, that the next thing he could do would be to get the kinks out of their hair. Ses he, "Why not, Majer?" "Wal," ses I, "because it ain't their natur." Ses I, "Kernel, you talk to these n.i.g.g.e.rs jest as if they were white people, all except their color. You seem to think that they will do something for their posterity, sacrifice something, but they won't. The n.i.g.g.e.r only cares for the present. The mulattoes have some of the talents of the white men, but the n.i.g.g.e.r not a bit."

"Now, Majer," ses Linkin, "you are prejudiced. Don't all the great men of the world, all the larned men of Europe, and all Christian phylanthropists, don't they all consider it the highest duty to try an elevate the black race?" "Now," ses I, "Kernel, I don't care a blue postage stamp for all the great men in the world. A little plain mother wit I have always found better than a stack of book larnin, an ef any one will jest take up the n.i.g.g.e.r race an study it out practically, they will see that it has allers been the same uncivilized, heathin people when white folks did not have control of 'em. You send 'em to Centril America, an in a gineration or so they will be again eatin lizards an worshipping snakes, as they do in Africa now."

Ses I, "Kernel, there's no peepul in the world so likely to lead you astray as edecated peepul. They are all mad as March hares on this n.i.g.g.e.r questshin, jest as they were in old Cotton Mather's time on witches. Edecated peepul, Kernel, ain't got any more wit or common sense than other folks, but they try to make you believe they have, an will talk high-falutin words jest to frighten you if they kin. They tried that on the old Ginneral in the days of the Biddle Bank, but they couldn't budge him an inch. One time the bankers and moneylenders and brokers in Wall street, sent on a committee to see the Ginneral, to honey fuggle him into not vetoing the Bank bill. Ogden Huffman, then the greatest orater, an jest the smartest lawyer York had, was sent on as spokesman. He could talk jest as slick as grease, and knew more law in a minnit than the old Ginneral did in all day. One night he staid till almost mornin talkin and talkin, scoldin a little an palaverin a good deal more. The old Ginneral didn't say much, only once in a while puttin in a questshin. Finally Huffman got reddy to go, an axed what the Ginneral thought of the argements he had made. The old Ginneral pushed his spectacles up on his forehead, run his fingers through his hair, an jumpin out of his cheer, walked across the room as if he was tarein mad, rite up to Mr. Huffman. When he got there, ses he, 'Mr.

Lawyer, your talk is all very pretty, very eloquent, an very larned with Latin, but (an here he fetched his old hickory down on the floor) I shall veto that Bank of Biddle's, by the Eternal!' You see the old Ginneral couldn't hold a candil to Huffman, as far as larnin an talk went, but he had the genuine common sense that seen rite through the hull subject. So I tell you, Kernel, don't put your trust in edecated peepul. Ef the hull world thinks that you kin make a white man out of a n.i.g.g.e.r it only shows that the hull world is made up of fools."

"Wal," ses Linkin, "that all may be very true, but you see, Majer, I've got these contrybands on my hands, an I've got to fish or cut bait.

We've only got a few thousand free now, an the peepul in the North are in arms to murder 'em ef I send any more there. I shall soon have two wars on my hands ef I don't contrive some plan to get rid of the kinky heads. You, see, Majer, a fire in front an a fire in the rear will be too much of a good thing."

"I see, I see, Kernel," ses I, "you've got to change your base."

"Exactly, Majer, you hit the nail rite on the hed."

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I can't give you a bit of advice except what I have all along. Put the negro in his place, an he won't be a bit of trubbel to you, but as long as you try to get along with him out of his place, you'll be in hot water. As for goin to Centril America, they won't go thar eny sooner than they will to Kamscatky."

"Wal," ses Linkin, ses he, "if they won't do that, we shall all pretty soon be in a nice kittle of fish."

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, can you tell me how you think this war is goin to end?"

"Wal, Major, I can't exactly see through the hull subject yet, but I'll tell you a story that about expresses my present idees of the subject.

One night at a tavern out in Illinoy, two drunken men were sent to sleep in the same room. Now there was two beds in the room, but they were so drunk that they both got in one bed, but did not know it. No sooner in than one sung out to the other, 'I say, Bill, some feller is in my bed.' The other sung out in reply, 'I say, Jim, some feller is in my bed, too.' After swearing at the landlord for a while for not givin 'em single beds, Bill sung out, 'I say, Jim, I'm goin to kick my feller out of bed.' Wal, ses Bill, so am I.' So at it they went, kickin like all possessed, until both of 'em lay sprawlin out on the floor. They had kicked themselves out of bed! Now, Major, I guess that will be jest about how this war will end. The way we're goin on, both the North an the South will kick one another out of bed before they stop, and out of house and home, too."

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that's about my idee, too, and I don't beleeve, by the time they get through, either side will have a bed-blanket or even a hull shirt left. They'll be wus off than Billy Bradly when he fit with the catamount, who didn't have a rag left on him except the stock around his neck."

Here the conversashin dropped. The Kernel looked very solemncolly, and I thought I wouldn't say nothing to hurt his feelins.

There ain't enything new here jest now, except the arrival of new regiments. Seward feels as happy as a little gal with a new doll every time a regiment comes along. Stantin takes down his big book an adds it on to the number alreddy in the army, while Chase gets ready to issoo more greenbacks.

Your frend,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.

LETTER XVI.

_The Science of "Military Strategy"--The Major's Opinion Upon it--A Call From the Secretary of the American and Foreign Benevolent Society for Ameliorating the Condition of the Colored Race--His Speech--The President's Reply--A Curious Prayer--The Major's Opinion on Slavery --The Critical Condition of Affairs--Mr. Lincoln Tells a Story._

WASHINGTON, Sept. 2, 1862.

_To the Editers of The Cawcashin:_

SURS:--Sence I writ you last I've been studyin military strutegy. It is a grate science. Our army, down in Virginny, has been in grate strates lately, an if it hadn't been for military strutegy it would have all been taken prisoners. Ses the Kernel to me, the other day, ses he, "Majer, what do you think that military strutegy consists in?" "Wal,"

ses I, "Kernel, it consists in gettin out of your enemy's way wen he's too much for you, an gettin in his way wen you're too much for him."

Ses I, "Kernel, I don't know whether that is down in the books, but that's the common sense view of the subject." "Wal," ses Linkin, "whatever strutegy consists in, we don't seem to have a bit of it, for we get in the enemy's way jest wen he's too strong for us, an get out of his way wen he ain't too strong for us. I'm gettin eenamost discouraged with this kind of military strategy." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, you've got too many Ginnerals an too many armies. There's too many fellers, with more bra.s.s in their faces than there is in their b.u.t.tons, who want to be the biggest toad in the puddle. Now, there can't be but one big toad, an so there can't be but one head Ginneral.

You ought to make one man Command-in-Cheef, an make him take the field, so that he can see for himself how matters are goin. Ginneral Hallick, here in Washinton, ain't the thing."

"Wal, Majer, there is no use of cryin over spilt milk. The troops down in Virginny have been very roughly handled agin by the rebils, an have got so mixed up that it will require a grate deal of strutegy to get them straitened out. The question is, what is to be done?"

Jest as I was about to give the Kernel some advice, who should come in but Sumnure, an a feller with a white handkercher around his neck, an two or three other solemn-lookin chaps. The feller in a white kercher spoke up, an ses he, "Mr. President, we're come to sympathize with you in the nashin's afflicshin, for the Lord has agin beat us with stripes--ah. Mr. President, I'm chief Secretary of the American and Foreign Benevolent Society for Ameliorating the Condishin of the Colored Race--ah--an I have been appinted Cheerman of a Committee to wait on you an express to you our opinions in the present fearful crisis in our country's history. Our society, which is composed of all the most pious maiden ladies in our town--ah--who are over forty years of age, an, therefore, may be considered wise and discreet, desire me to express to you their deep conviction that G.o.d will never bless our armies with victory--ah--so long as you do not fight for the freedom of our dearly beloved colored brethren--ah. Our Society, Mr. President, has given the condishin of our colored brethren great attenshin--ah.

You can judge of the extent of our labor wen I inform you that the sisters of our Society have distributed the past year to our colored brethren in Liberia, 500 flannel shirts--ah--600 wool socks--ah--100 Bibles--ah--100 Tracts on Temperance--ah--500 toothpicks--ah--and a large supply of cologne water--ah! We should have been glad to have supplied the sufferin bondmen of the same oppressed race in our own country, but the vile rebellion of the infernal slaveholders has prevented. We ask you now to proclaim liberty to the captives, and 'let the people go'--ah. Do not let your heart be hardened as Parroh's was, but save our land from sorrow, an our armies from further defeat by a decree of righteousness. Then will the Lord smile on us, an then shall glory cover the land--ah."

I believe I've got that speech down purty nigh as the feller delivered it, for he spoke very slow an stately, as if he was tryin to make an impreshin. Wen he got thru, Linkin got up, and ses he, "Mr. Secretary, I'm kinder glad to see you, and will only say that we need all the help about these times we can get, an if I thought the Lord would only help us lick the rebils, I would free the n.i.g.g.e.rs. An if I thought he would help us by freein 'em, I would do that. In fact, whatever I do, an what--I don't do, I do it, or I don't do it, jest as I think the Lord will be most likely to help us. The great thing is to get the help of the Lord, an I shall adopt new views on this pint jest as far as I think they are good views." Wen Linkin got thru, I pulled him by the coat-tail, an ses I, "Kernel, Seward himself could not have beat that non-committal speech." Ses he, "Hush, Majer, don't throw all the fat into the fire." Jest then the feller in the white hankercher spoke up, an ses he, "let us pray," an at it he went. Ses he, "Oh Lord, throw grate lite upon the mind of our Chief Magustrate--ah--give us victorys over the rebils--ah--give us this yere grate victorys--ah--not such little victories as we had last yere--ah--but crush the rebils with the arm of thy power. Amen--ah." After this, they all shuck hands, an went away. After they had gone, ses the Kernel, ses he, "Majer, that's a wonderful pious chap." "Yes," ses I, "Kernel, I think he is, in his way, but," ses I, "findin falt with the Lord, bekase He don't give us bigger victories, ain't much like the Christians of arly days." Ses I, "His prayer for big victories reminds me of old Joe Bunker's prayer.

Joe was a wicked old sinner who swore wus than a saleyur. One day he was a swarein' kos he didn't hev better corn. Some one told him he orter pray for good corn, if he wanted it. So one day some one was goin' long the road by the old feller's corn-field, and hearin' a noise, they stopped, and who should the noise c.u.m from but the miserly old skinflint Bunker, who was prayin. Ses he, 'Oh, Lord! give us a good crop of corn this yere, long ears, long as your arm, not sich d--d little nubsbins as we had last yere.' Now," ses I, "Kernel, I think thar's a great deal of simularity 'tween them two prayers, and I think the Lord is jest about as likely to answer one as 'tother." Ses I, "Kernel, you could bust up fifteen Unions easier than you could destroy slavery." Ses he, "Majer, I don't see into that ezackly, and I'd like to know the reason why." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, the reason is jest this: men made the Union, but G.o.d made slavery, and I tell you," ses I, "Kernel, when you undertake to b.u.t.t agin that, you b.u.t.t agin a big subjec." Ses I, "Ain't every body been fightin slavery for the last thirty years, and haven't they all c.u.m off second best, while n.i.g.g.e.r slavery has been growin' and expandin in spite of 'em? G.o.d made the n.i.g.g.e.r to sarve and obey the white man, and until he's altered and made anuther being, you can't make him enything but a sarvent. These fellers, like that white cravated chap, who was jest here, and who employ their time sendin flannel shirts and tooth-picks to the wild n.i.g.g.e.r in Afriky, don't know nothin' more about n.i.g.g.e.rs than they do 'bout the interior of the arth. You might presarve all the brains they've got in a drop of brandy, and they would have as much sea-room as a tad-pole in Lake Superior."

"Wal," ses Linkin, ses he, "Majer, let's drop the n.i.g.g.e.r jest now, as I want to ask you whether you think the rebils kin take Washington?"

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that depends upon strutegy agin. Ef you keep Ginnerals in the field who don't pay eny attention to 'lines of retrete,' afore you know it, Kernel, that feller with a Stonewall in his name, will be around on the North side of the White House, an I'm afeered my 'line of retrete' to Downingville will be cut off." "That's so, Majer, and my retrete to Springfield may be a hard road to travel."

When Linkin made this remark, he looked kinder oneasy. I didn't know what to say, so I did jest what I allers do in that case, I whistled!

Ses Linkin, ses he, "Majer, are you whistlin to keep your courage up?"