first!" (And is trying dreadfully ever since, but cannot Yes, 'twas South-Carolina 'twas Charleston, no yet manage it.) May, 1863. A NEW AMERICAN ILIAD. T. C. Let us attempt an "Ilias Americana in Nuce," after the manner of Mr. Carlyle. Peter of the South to Paul of the North-"You miserable Yankee, you, why don't you defend your soil? Why not take Vicksburg? You have no courage. I shall burn, ar.d slay, and lay waste, and-" Paul-" Suppose you try it." [Gettysburg and Vicksburg ad interim.] Peter" You miserable Yankee, you have money, but you have no courage. You are rich, but you are a coward; I shall fight to the last, I shall—” Paul-"We shall see."-Philadelphia Press. H. (an Englishman of great respectability, a member of the Carlton) My dear fellow, you know I wish perdition here and hereafter to all Yankees; but did you not begin this infernal row ?" S. (a Southern agent)—" Of course we did. Every thing was at stake. A scoundrel of the old country scattered books up and down the States against Gigmanity. He preached the doctrine of the old Scotch ploughman, A man's a man for a' that.' He canted about a judgment of God which came upon the French nobles of the last century for denying that doctrine. Certain fools at the North fancied he was in earnest. They believed what he told them, and said that they should act upon it. Idiot parsons went so far as to say that the words we use on Sunday about a Person who was put to death as a slave being the corner-stone of the universe were true. What could we do? It was a matter of life and death. We raised the shout for Gigmanity. We affirmed that Slavery itself, not the Person who suffered the death of the slave, was the corner-stone of the universe. These are our watch words. In this cause, and not, as some foolish friends of ours represent, to vindicate our right to hire our servants for life, we have drawn the sword and flung away the scabbard." H. (much affected)-" Brave and noble men! Champions of our interests as well as your own! You have not been exactly the friends of England, but we feel that we may embrace you as ours. Let us join solemnly in drinking the toast. The Cause of Gigmanity and Slavery, civil and religious, all the world over.'" [Hip, hip, hurrah, and exeunt.] F. D. M.* MY DREAM. TO THOMAS CARLYLE. Peter of the North to Paul of the South-" Paul, you unaccountable scoundrel, I find you hire your servants for life, not by the month or year, as I do."-[Thomas Carlyle's "American Iliad in a Nutshell," Macmillan's Magazine, August.] O Thomas of Chelsea! I've dreamed such a dream! I've been reading that dialogue, more smart than grave, In which you've so settled the case, as you deem, And straight to your Eden of fetters I flew, * Rev. F. D. Maurice, in the London Spectator. doubt But changed-why has quite from my memory slipped For the whites now were "hired," as it straightway turned out, "For life," by the blacks, to be labored and whipped. I've never been given, like you, to regard Men treated as beasts as a comical sight; In the case, as it had been, of blacks, it seemed hard, And as hard it seemed now that the niggers were white. But a negro, your namesake, was luckily by, He couldn't help sneering out lofty surprise That my brain could of such silly nonsense be full. "To be worked, to be walloped for nothing," he said, "The eternities sent forth all whites-'twas their doom." Just then an old graybeard was livelily led To the block-for an auction went on in the room; And think how I stared! why, the chattel, alack! Yes, 'twas you-no mistake!-you put up there to sell! You grumbled-whack! down came the thong on your back; Good lord! how you, Thomas, did wriggle and yell! My black sage looked on with a sneering disdain, Stepped up to the block and examined your mouth; Poked your ribs with his stick; you objected in vain"Whites were made to be sarved so by blacks in the South." A lively discussion around you arose, On the strength of your legs-on your age; thump on thump. Tried to straighten you upright; one would tweak your nose; One hustled you down, just to see how you'd jump. 'Twas fun to their blackships, but Thomas, I've fears Your temper that moment was none of the best; There was rage in your scowl; in your old eyes were tears; For it seems Mrs. Carlyle had just been sold West; And what might, too, put some hard words in your mouth Though it did not affect your black namesake the least Master Carlyle was "hired for life," right down South Miss Carlyle had been ditto right away East. So you didn't jump lively, and laugh as you ought, Though, cursed in a whisper, you tried to look gay, If lives of old whites raise the whitest and best, price. What wages you gib ?" F. M.-"Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half."* T. C. N.-"Any priv'leges, massa ?" F. M.-"Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow." T. C. N.-"Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass?" F. M.-"Ha! ha! ha! Yes-till I or Mr. Overseer want them. But you have the privilege of taking another wife as often as I allow it, and of having as many children as it pays me to bring up." T. C. N. Beg pardon, massa, but what for you call me servant hired for life?" F. M.-"What for, you rascal? Because a great man, after whom I named you, when he had written a d-d good book on the 'nigger question,' says that is all the difference between you and those mean, whitelivered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the month or the day." T. C. N.-" Massa, if him book good book, why's I not privileged to learn read it ?" F. M. Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him fine and imprisonment or lashes, and what do you suppose you'd get? So off with you Stayhow old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter?" T. C. N.-"Born three weeks 'fore Miss Susy, massa." F. M.-"She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, now that New-Orleans-" T. C. N. (Aside while passing away)-" Dey say de Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. * Laws of South-Carolina. Wish dey'd gib me a rifle 'fore I dies."-Macmillan's 66 Carlyle pours the dregs of his once fertile brain AN ACT OF VILLAINY.-A correspondent of the Boston Traveller, writing from Sharpsburgh an account of General Kilpatrick's charge on the rebel rear-guard, near Downsville, relates the occurrence of a dastardly act as follows: General Kilpatrick got within half a mile of the enemy's rear-guard, near Downsville, Md., when our spies discovered that lines of rifle-pits were ready to contest their advance. These works were erected on the brow of quite a large hill, and General Kilpatrick at once resolved to feel the strength of his foe. Two companies of the Sixth Michigan cavalry, B and F, were ordered to charge up the hill to the earthworks, which was done in fine style. As our men dashed in sight, the rebels were seen to throw down their arms and hoist a flag of truce. Supposing, of course, the enemy had surrendered, they continued on, and when within fifty or sixty feet the entire rebel force, which must have numbered from seven hundred to one thousand men, seized their rifles and fired upon our men, taking them completely by surprise. Finding the force so much larger than they anticipated, our men gave them a volley and fell back to the main body of cavalry. The rebels, after completely stripping the victims of their infamous treachery of shoes and stockings, fled to a dense piece of woods three miles beyond, carrying off their dead and wounded. I visited the scene of their hellish plot in order to obtain a list of the casualties, and a more revolting spectacle never presented itself. In all directions, as far as the eye could reach on the top of the hill, lay the lifeless remains of our brave defenders, the warm blood oozing from their mortal wounds in streams that formed in pools amid the grass, while at their side, bleeding, lay their faithful chargers, stiff in death, the sharers of their fate. A knot of soldiers gathered around the bodies of the slain, swearing eternal revenge upon the dastardly assassins who so cowardly shot their heroic comrades, and then bayoneted them. This is a horrible fact, which I witnessed personally. After killing our men, they pierced their bodies with bayonets and swords, robbed the dead of their finger-rings, boots, stockings, hats, and every article of value. NOBLE CONDUCT OF THE TWENTY-THIRD NEW-JERSEY. In the Sixth corps we have a New-Jersey regiment, the Twenty-third, which has exhibited an extraordinary degree of patriotism truly commendable, and worthy of public acknowledgment. Their term of service had expired, but just as they were preparing to leave for home, the order was received for the division to cross the river. Their gal lant Colonel ordered out his command, and after forming them into line and telling them of the orders issued, he stated, notwithstanding their time was out, he for one was going with the division, and desired to know how many would go with him; every soul in the regi ment answered Ay! and they are now with a part of the Sixth corps, over the river and under the very guns of the enemy. This is truly a pleasing incident to record, and should receive the highest encomiums of all.-Philadelphia Inquirer, June, 1863. ODE What have we done for thee? Surging with tumult and sorely oppressed— Given our lives to thee! Given thee Liberty, Land of the West. Then hail to our country, the Land of the West! The marvel of nations, the Great and the Blest, On the Inauguration of the Albany Army Relief Ba- The green of her forests, the blue of her vales, zaar, on the 22d February, 1864. BY MISS MARGARET F. MORGAN, OF ALBANY. All hail to our country, the Land of the West! The dream of the nations, the Great and the Blest; The vision that came on the spice of the breeze, And haunted the heart of the dark GenoeseThat rose like a temple of gold to his view, That hung like a star in his distance of blue. The Sun on his journey may linger to glance On the mosque and the temple, the vine and the dance, But always returns to the haunt he loves best, And leaves his last smile with the Land of the West. O Sun! in thy beauty, untiring like thee, The heart of the Westland is glowing! And over the continent, over the sea, The light of its purpose is throwing. Behold how its broad and beneficent ray Though dark clouds of error still lurk in the way, Come, Morning Light! Break through the night- Call in their might, Come, quickly come! Break, break the tyrant's yoke, Let Treason's wonted ire Break through the prison bars, go with a blessing, Though the air is stirred with combat, From the dim and doubting vision, Peace will return with her chaplet of gloryHome from the battle-field weary and worn, Come the brave squadrons of song and of story, Bearing their banners up, rifted and torn! Her mines and her mountains, her lakes and her sails, No spirit more intense and fine Strives where her starry banners wave, No gentler face, beloved, than thine Sleeps in a soldier's grave— No heart more brave. And though his mound I may not trace, The soul I loved is still alive, The name I loved is Freedom's boast; I clasp these helpful truths, and strive To feel, though great the cost, Nothing is lost: Under the high, unclouded sun, That makes the ship and shadow one, The odorous airs blow thin and fine, And glitters o'er the liquid miles Encinctured by the faithful seas, Enthroned in light, and bathed in balm, Yet northward with an equal mind I know that in the snow-white pines O strong, free North, so wise and brave! OUR COUNTRY'S FLAG. CAMPAIGN SONG. AIR-"Sparkling and Bright." Loyal and true to the red, white, and blue, We firmly stand for our native land, Then rally we all at the nation's call, When in treason's hour our country's power Then rally we all at the nation's call, By our sacred cause-by our rights and laws- By this flag of the free, on the land and the sea, Then rally we all to the nation's call, While the dear old flag waves o'er us; O flag divine! each star of thine Then in Union grand we shall firmly stand, OLD ROSY. When Rosy rode along the line, As quickening vengeance draws its breath Where now within the battle-blast A cheer broke in, and then the drum- Heard o'er the hills in gathering gloom Then ranged our cannons to the breach Till Rosy rode along the line. Then but to see the chieftain's look; Back rolled the flood, and in its track Then marched we in with three times three Ah! 'twas a sight for men to see, When Rosy rode along the line. KANE O'DONNEL. THE "MONITOR" AND HER CHILDREN. AN ODE, DEDICATED TO THE CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES. 'The gale at this time was raging furiously. The water had succeeded in rising up to the grate-bars of the furnaces, and was gradually extinguishing the fires. The vessel was now sinking. The moon, which up to this time had been giving some light, was shut in by masses of black clouds: and at three quarters of an hour past midnight, on the morning of the last day of 1862, the Monitor's light disappeared beneath the waves."-Account by a gentleman on the Rhode Island. A ship foundering at midnight !-the Monitor!-ho! " Is sweeping the struggling to watery graves; In his death-defying scales and plate- name. Yet one more agony for the relief Yet one more desperate yearn to save! 'Tis in vain. Alas! But a moment briefAnd the plunge-the gurgle-the closing grave. Over" turret" a prouder boast of mind, Sublimer symbol-for ever gone!— Than towers colossal of towns refined, That crash and vanish in earthquake's yawn. The great rebel iron-clad, the Merrimac or Virginia. For ever gone with thy guardian power? To some hostile giant ruling the sea? And the voices are looming athwart the gloom: "Ne'er mother went down, to be raised so highLeft such an example-so honored a tomb. "We are many. In us she lives, and more, As mother in stalwart and filial band; For Union, Liberty, Virtue, and Laws. "We are ready! All clad in our heaviest mail, And tyrants," admonished," no more shall assail— 'And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.'" SUSQUEHANNA. THE AMERICAN NATION. BY JAMES S. WATKINS. The American Nation! She knows not her strength, Whose armies are millions, through Her breadth and her length; Her Union is strength She dreads not the world, Though at her, unjustly, They've thunderbolts hurled. With her navy of iron, And sailors of steel, The American Nation! O'er steeple and dome, The oppressed a home. The American Nation! All freemen we have! No serfs, à la Russia, The nobleman's slave! The American Nation! |