The Orpheus C. Kerr Papers, Series 1

by R. H. Newell

  As I was _very_ tired I did not go all the way up; but turned back atthe first cloud, and returned hastily to the scene of strife. Ihappened to light on a very fat secesher, who was doing a littlerunning for exercise. Down he went, with me on top of him. He wasdreadfully scared; but says he to me: "I've =seen you before, by thegods!" I winked at him, and commenced to sharpen my sword on a stone.

  "Tell me," says he, "had you a female mother?"

  "I had," says I.

  "And a masculine father?"

  "He wore breeches."

  "Then you _are_ my long lost grandfather!" says the secesher, endeavoringto embrace me.

  "It won't do," says I; "I've been to the Bowery Theatre myself;" andwith that I took off his neck-tie and wiped my nose with it. Thisaction was so repugnant to the feelings of a Southern gentleman, thathe immediately died on my hands; and there I left him.

  It was my first personal victory in this unnatural war, my boy, and asI walked away I thought sadly of the domestic circle in the SouthernConfederacy that might be waiting anxiously, tearfully, for the husbandand father----him whom I had morally assassinated. And there hesprawled, denied even the simple privilege of extending a partingblessing to his children. Under ordinary circumstances, my boy, there'ssomething deeply affecting in

  THE DYING SOUTHERNER'S FAREWELL TO HIS SON.

  My boy, my lion-hearted boy, Your father's end draws near; Already is your loss begun, And, curse it, there's a tear.

  I've sought to bring you up, my son, A credit to the South, And all your poker games have been An honor to us both.

  Though scarcely sixteen years of age, Your bowie's tickled more Than many Southerners I know At fifty and three score.

  You've whipped your nigger handsomely, And chewed your plug a day; And when I hear you swear, my son, What pride my eyes betray!

  And now, that I must leave the world, My dying words attend; But first, a chew of niggerhead, And cut it near the end.

  To you the old plantation goes, With mortgage, tax, and all, Though compound interest on that first, Will make the profit small.

  The niggers to your mother go; And if she wants to sell, You might contrive to buy her out, Should all the crops grow well.

  I leave you all my debts, my son, To Yankees chiefly due; But--curse the black republicans! That needn't trouble you.

  A true-born Southern gentleman Disdains the vulgar thought Of paying, like a Yankee clerk, For what is sold and bought.

  Leave that to storekeepers and fools Who never banked a card; We pay our "debts of honor," boy, Though pressed however hard.

  Last summer at the North I bought, Some nigger hats and shoes, And gave my note for ninety days; Forget it if you choose.

  The Yankee mudsills would not have Such articles to sell, If Southern liberality Had fattened them less well.

  The Northern dun we hung last week Had twenty dollars clear, And that, my son, is all the cash I have to give you here.

  But that's enough to make a start, And, if you pick your boat, A Mississippi trip or two Will set you all afloat.

  You play a screaming hand, my son, And push an ugly cue; Oh! these are thoughts that make me feel As dying Christians do!

  Keep cool, my lion-hearted boy, Till second ace is played, And then call out for brandy sour As though your pile was made.

  The other chaps will think you've got The tiger by the tail; And when you see them looking glum, Just call for brandy pale!

  I never knew it fail to make Some green one go it blind; And when the first slip-up is made, It's all your own, you'll find.

  My breath comes hard--I'm euchred, boy-- First Families must die; I leave you in your innocence, And here's a last good-bye.

  Shortly after the event I have recorded, I was examining the back of ahouse near the battle-field, to see if it corresponded with the front,when another Fire Zouave came along, and says he:

  "It's my opine that you're sticking rather too thick to the rear ofthat house to be much punkins in a muss. Why don't you go to the frontlike a man?"

  "My boy," says I, "this is the house of a predominant rebel, and I'mdetailed to watch the back door."

  With that the Zouave was taken with such a dreadful fit of coughingthat he had to move on to get his breath, and I was left alone oncemore.

  These Fire Zouaves, my boy, have a perversity about them not to berepressed. They were neck-and-neck with the rest of us in our stampedeback to this city; and yet, my boy, they refuse to consider the UnitedStates of America worsted. Here is the version of

  BULL RUN,

  BY A FIRE ZOUAVE.

  Oh, it's all very well for you fellers That don't know a fire from the sun, To curl your moustaches, and tell us Just how the thing _oughter_ be done; But when twenty wake up ninety thousand, There's nothin' can follow but rout; We didn't give in till we had to; And what are yer coughin' about?

  The crowd that was with them ere rebels Had ten to our every man; But a fireman's a fireman, me covey, And he'll put out a fire if he can: So we run the masheen at a gallop, As easy as open and shut, And as fast as one feller went under, Another kept takin' der butt.

  You oughter seen Farnham, that mornin'! In spite of the shot and the shell His orders kept ringing around us As clear as the City Hall bell. He said all he could to encourage And lighten the hearts of the men, Until he was bleeding and wounded, And nary dried up on it then.

  While two rifle regiments fought us, And batteries tumbled us down, Them cursed Black-Horse fellers charged us, Like all the Dead Rabbits in town. And that's just the way with them rebels, It's ten upon one, or no fair; But we emptied a few of their saddles-- You may bet all your soap on that air!

  "Double up!" says our colonel, quite coolly, When he saw them come riding like mad, And we did double up in a hurry, And let them have all that we had. They came at us counting a hundred, And scarcely two dozen went back; So you see, if they bluffed us on aces, We made a big thing with the Jack.

  We fought till red shirts were as plenty As blackberries, strewing the grass, And then we fell back for a breathing, To let Sixty-nine's fellers pass. Perhaps Sixty-nine didn't peg them, And give them uncommon cheroots? Well--I've just got to say, if they didn't You fellers can smell of my boots!

  The Brooklyn Fourteenth was another, And those Minnesota chaps too; But the odds were too heavy against us, And but one thing was left us to do: We had to make tracks for our quarters, And finished it up pretty rough; But if any chap says that they licked us, I'd just like to polish him off!

  With the remembrance of the many heroic souls who sacrificed themselvesfor their country that day, I have not the heart, my boy, to continuethe subject. I was routed at about five o'clock in the afternoon, andfell back on Washington, where I am now receiving my rations. I don'ttake the oath with any spirit since then; and a skeleton with nothingon but a havelock is all that is left of

  Yours, emaciatedly,

  ORPHEUS C. KERR.

  LETTER XI.

  GIVING AN EFFECT OF THE NEW BUGLE DRILL IN THE MACKEREL BRIGADE, ANDMAKING SOME NOTE OF THE LATEST IMPROVEMENTS IN ARTILLERY, ETC.

  WASHINGTON, D.C., August --, 1861.

  The Mackerel Brigade, of which I have the honor to be a member, wasabout the worst demoralized of all the brigades that covered themselveswith glory and perspiration at the skrimmage of Bull Run. In the firstplace, it never had much morals, and when it came to be demoralized, ithadn't any; so that ever since the disaster, the peasantry in theneighborhood of the camp h
ave been in constant mourning for departedpullets; and one venerable rustic complains that the Mackerel picketsmilk all his cows every night, and come to borrow his churn in themorning. When one of the colonels heard the venerable rustic make thisaccusation, he says to him:

  "Would you like to be revenged on the men who milk your animiles?" Thevenerable rustic took a chew of tobacco, and says he: "I wouldn't likeanything better." The colonel looked at him sadly for a moment, andthen remarked: "Aged stranger, you are already revenged. The men whomilked your animiles are all from New York, where they had beenaccustomed to drink milk composed principally of Croton water. Upondrinking the pure article furnished by your gentle beastesses, theywere all taken violently sick, and are now lying at the point ofillness, expecting every moment to be their first." The venerablerustic was so affected by this intelligence, that he immediately wenthome in tears.

  The new bugle drill is a very good idea, my boy, and our lads willprobably become accustomed to it by the time they get used to it. Thecolonel of Regiment Five likes it so much that he has substituted thebugle for the drum, even. The other morning, when he tried it on forthe first time, I was just entering the tent of one of the captains, totake the Oath with him, when the bugle sounded the order to turn out.

  "Ah!" says the captain, when he heard it, "we're going to have fish forbreakfast at last. I hope its porgies," says he: "for I'm uncommon fondof porgies."

  "Why, what are you talking about?" says I.

  "You innocent lamb," says he, "didn't you hear that ere fish-horn. Itsaid 'porgies,' as plain as could be."

  "Why, that's the bugle," says I, "and it sounded the order to turnout."

  He took his disappointment very severely, my boy, for he was reallyvery fond of porgies.

  By invitation of a well-known official, I visited the Navy-Yardyesterday, and witnessed the trial of some newly-invented rifledcannon. The trial was of short duration, and the jury brought in averdict of "innocent of any intent to kill."

  The first gun tried was similar to those used in the Revolution, exceptthat it had a larger touch-hole, and the carriage was painted green,instead of blue. This novel and ingenious weapon was pointed at atarget about sixty yards distant. It didn't hit it, and as nobody sawany ball, there was much perplexity expressed. A midshipman did saythat he thought the ball must have run out of the touch-hole when theyloaded up--for which he was instantly expelled from the service. Aftera long search without finding the ball, there was some thought ofsummoning the Naval Retiring Board to decide on the matter, whensomebody happened to look into the mouth of the cannon, and discoveredthat the ball hadn't gone out at all. The inventor said this wouldhappen sometimes, especially if you didn't put a brick over thetouch-hole when you fired the gun. The Government was so pleased withthis explanation, that it ordered forty of the guns on the spot, at twohundred thousand dollars apiece. The guns to be furnished as soon asthe war is over.

  The next weapon tried was Jink's double back-action revolving cannonfor ferry-boats. It consists of a heavy bronze tube, revolving on apivot, with both ends open, and a touch-hole in the middle. While onegunner puts a load in at one end, another puts in a load at the otherend, and one touch-hole serves for both. Upon applying the match, thegun is whirled swiftly round on a pivot, and both balls fly out incircles, causing great slaughter on both sides. This terrible enginewas aimed at the target with great accuracy; but as the gunner has alarge family dependent on him for support, he refused to apply thematch. The Government was satisfied without firing, and ordered six ofthe guns at a million of dollars apiece. The guns to be furnished intime for our next war.

  The last weapon subjected to trial was a mountain howitzer of a newpattern. The inventor explained that its great advantage was, that itrequired no powder. In battle it is placed on the top of a highmountain, and a ball slipped loosely into it. As the enemy passes thefoot of the mountain, the gunner in charge tips over the howitzer, andthe ball rolls down the side of the mountain into the midst of thedoomed foe. The range of this terrible weapon depends greatly on theheight of the mountain and the distance to its base. The Governmentordered forty of these mountain howitzers at a hundred thousand dollarsapiece, to be planted on the first mountains discovered in the enemy'scountry.

  These are great times for gunsmiths, my boy; and if you find any oldcannon around the junk-shops, just send them along.

  There is much sensation in nautical circles arising from the immoralconduct of the rebel privateers; but public feeling has been somewhateasier since the invention of a craft for capturing the pirates, by aningenious Connecticut chap. Yesterday he exhibited a small model of itat a cabinet meeting, and explained it thus:

  "You will perceive," says he to the President, "that the machine itselfwill only be four times the size of the Great Eastern, and need notcost over a few millions of dollars. I have only got to discover onething before I can make it perfect. You will observe that it has asteam-engine on board. This engine works a pair of immense iron clamps,which are let down into the water from the extreme end of a verylengthy horizontal spar. Upon approaching the pirate, the captainorders the engineer to put on steam. Instantly the clamps descend fromthe end of the spar and clutch the privateer athwartships. Then theengine is reversed, the privateer is lifted bodily out of the water,the spar swings around over the deck, and the pirate ship is let downinto the hold by the run. Then shut your hatches, and you have ship andpirates safe and sound."

  The President's gothic features lighted up beautifully at the words ofthe great inventor; but in a moment they assumed an expression ofdoubt, and says he:

  "But how are you going to manage, if the privateer fires upon you whileyou are doing this?"

  "My dear sir," says the inventor, "I told you I had only one thing todiscover before I could make the machine perfect, and that's it."

  So you see, my boy, there's a prospect of our doing something on theocean next century, and there's only one thing in the way of our takingin pirates by the cargo.

  Last evening a new brigadier-general, aged ninety-four years, made aspeech to Regiment Five, Mackerel Brigade, and then furnished each manwith a lead-pencil. He said that, as the Government was disappointedabout receiving some provisions it had ordered for the troops, thosepencils were intended to enable them to draw their rations as usual. Igot a very big pencil, my boy, and have lived on a sheet of paper eversince.

  Yours, pensively,

  ORPHEUS C. KERR.

  LETTER XII.

  GIVING AN ABSTRACT OF A GREAT ORATOR'S FLAGGING SPEECH, AND RECORDING ADEATHLESS EXPLOIT OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE.

  WASHINGTON, D.C., September 8th, 1861.

  The weather in the neighborhood of Chain Bridge still continues to bearhard on fat men, my boy, and the man who carries a big stomach aroundwith him will be a person in reduced circumstances before he gets to bea colonel. The Brigadier-General of the Mackerel Brigade observed, theother day, that he had been in hot water four weeks running, andordered me to work six hours in the trenches for not laughing at thejoke; he said that old Abe had people expressly to laugh at his jokes,and had selected his Cabinet officers because they all had largemouths, and could laugh easily; he said that he was resolved to havehis own jokes appreciated, and if he didn't, he'd be perditionized.It's my impression--I say it's my impression, my boy, that the generalgot off his best joke when he promised the Mackerel Brigade to lookafter their interests as though they were his brothers. He may lookafter them, my boy, but it's after they're out of sight. I don't saythat he takes advantage of us: but I know that just after a basket ofchampagne was sent to the camp, directed to me, yesterday, I saw himsitting on an empty basket in his tent, trying to wind up his watchwith a corkscrew. I asked him what time it was, and he said theConzstorshun must and shall be blockade--dade--did. I told him Ithought so myself, and he immediately burst into tears, and said heshould never see his mother again.

  On Tuesday, there was a rumor that the Southern Confederacy hadattacked at regiment at Alexandria
, for the purpose of creating aconfusion, so that it might pick the colonel's pockets, and Regiment 5,Mackerel Brigade, was ordered to go instantly to the rescue. Just as wewere ready to march, a distinguished citizen of Washington presented asword to the colonel from the ladies of the Capital, and made aneloquent speech. He spoke of the wonderful manner in which the worldwas called out of chaos at the creation, and spoke feelingly of theGarden of Eden, and the fall of our first parents; he then went on toreview the many changes the earth had experienced since it was firstcreated, and described the method of the ancients to cook bread beforestoves were invented; he then spoke of the glories of Greece and Rome,giving a full history of them from the beginning to the present time;he then went on to describe the origin of the republican and democraticparties, reading both platforms, and giving his ideas of Jackson'spolicy; he then gave an account of the war of the Roses in England, andthe cholera in Persia, attributing the latter to a sudden change in theatmosphere; he then went on to speak of the difficulties encountered byColumbus in discovering this country, and gave a history of hissubsequent career and death in Europe; he then read an extract fromWashington's Farewell Address; in conclusion, he said that the ladiesof Washington had empowered him to present this here sword to that eregallant colonel, in the presence of these here brave defenders of theircountry.

  At the conclusion of this speech, starvation commenced to make greatravages in the regiment, and the colonel was so weak, for want ofsleep, that he had to be carried to his tent. A private remarked to me,that, if we could only have one more such presentation speech as that,the regiment would be competent to start a grave-yard before it wasfinished. I believe him, my boy!