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Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 9, No. 55, May, 1862 by Various



V >> Various >> Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 9, No. 55, May, 1862

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A portion of the Republicans, seeing clearly the force arrayed against
them, and disbelieving that the population of the Free States would be
willing, _en masse_, to sustain the cause of free labor by force of
arms, tried to avert the blow by proposing a new compromise. Mr.
Seward, the calmest, most moderate, and most obnoxious statesman of the
Republican party, offered to divide the existing territories of the
United States by the Missouri line, all south of which should be open
to slave labor. As he at the same time stated that by natural laws the
South could obtain no material advantage by his seeming concession, the
concession only made him enemies among the uncompromising champions of
the Wilmot Proviso. The conspirators demanded that the Missouri line
should be the boundary, not only between the territories which the
United States then possessed, but between the territories they might
hereafter _acquire_. As the country north of the Missouri line was held
by powerful European States which it would be madness to offend, and as
the country south of that line was held by feeble States which it would
be easy to conquer, no Northern or Western statesman could vote for such
a measure without proving himself a rogue or a simpleton. Hence all
measures of "compromise" necessarily failed during the last days of the
administration of James Buchanan.

It is plain, that, when Mr. Lincoln--after having escaped assassination
from the "Chivalry" of Maryland, and after having been subjected to a
virulence of invective such as no other President had incurred--arrived
at Washington, his mind was utterly unaffected by the illusions of
passion. His Inaugural Message was eminently moderate. The Slave
Power, having failed to delude or bully Congress, or to intimidate the
people,--having failed to murder the elected President on his way to
the capital,--was at wits' end. It thought it could still rely on its
Northern supporters, as James II. of England thought he could rely
on the Church of England. While the nation, therefore, was busy in
expedients to call back the seceded States to their allegiance, the
latter suddenly bombarded Fort Sumter, trampled on the American flag,
threatened to wave the rattlesnake rag over Faneuil Hall, and to make
the Yankees "smell Southern powder and feel Southern steel." All this
was done with the idea that the Northern "Democracy" would rally to the
support of their "Southern brethren." The result proved that the South
was, in the words of Mr. Davis's last and most melancholy Message, the
victim of "misplaced confidence" in its Northern "associates." The
moment a gun was fired, the honest Democratic voters of the North were
even more furious than the Republican voters; the leaders, including
those who had been the obedient servants of Slavery, were ravenous for
commands in the great army which was to "coerce" and "subjugate" the
South; and the whole organization of the "Democratic party" of the North
melted away at once in the fierce fires of a reawakened patriotism. The
slaveholders ventured everything on their last stake, and lost. A North,
for the first time, sprang into being; and it issued, like Minerva from
the brain of Jove, full-armed. The much-vaunted engineer, Beauregard,
was "hoist with his own petard."

Now that the slaveholders have been so foolish as to appeal to physical
force, abandoning their vantage-ground of political influence, they must
be not only politically overthrown, but physically humiliated. Their
arrogant sense of superiority must be beaten out of them by main force.
The feeling with which every Texan and Arkansas bully and assassin
regarded a Northern mechanic--a feeling akin to that with which the old
Norman robber looked on the sturdy Saxon laborer--must be changed, by
showing the bully that his bowie-knife is dangerous only to peaceful,
and is imbecile before armed citizens. The Southerner has appealed to
force, and force he should have, until, by the laws of force, he is not
only beaten, but compelled to admit the humiliating fact. That he is not
disposed "to die in the last ditch," that he has none of the practical
heroism of desperation, is proved by the actual results of battles.
When defeated, and his means of escape are such as only desperation can
surmount, he quickly surrenders, and is even disposed to take the oath
of allegiance. The martial virtues of the common European soldier he has
displayed in exceedingly scanty measure in the present conflict. He
has relied on engineers; and the moment his fortresses are turned or
stormed, he retreats or becomes a prisoner of war. Let Mr. Davis's
Message to the Confederate Congress, and his order suspending Pillow
and Floyd, testify to this unquestionable statement. Even if we grant
martial intrepidity to the members of the Slavocracy, the present war
proves that the system of Slavery is not one which develops martial
virtues among the "free whites" it has cajoled or forced into its
hateful service. Indeed, the armies of Jefferson Davis are weak on the
same principle on which the slave-system is weak. Everything depends on
the intelligence and courage of the commanders, and the moment these
fail the soldiers become a mere mob.

American Slavery, by the laws which control its existence, first rose
from a local power, dominant in certain States, to a national power,
assuming to dominate over the United States. At the first faint fact
which indicated the intention of the Free States to check its progress
and overturn its insolent dominion, it rebelled. The rebellion now
promises to be a failure; but it will cost the Free States the arming of
half a million of men and the spending of a thousand millions of dollars
to make it a failure. Can we afford to trifle with the cause which
produced it? We note that some of the representatives of the loyal Slave
States in Congress are furious to hang individual Rebels, but at the
same time are anxious to surround the system those Rebels represent
with new guaranties. When they speak of Jeff Davis and his crew, their
feeling is as fierce as that of Tilly and Pappenheim towards the
Protestants of Germany. They would burn, destroy, confiscate, and kill
without any mercy, and without any regard to the laws of civilized war;
but when they come to speak of Slavery, their whole tone is changed.
They wish us to do everything barbarous and inhuman, provided we do not
go to the last extent of barbarity and inhumanity, which, according to
their notions, is, to inaugurate a system of freedom, equality, and
justice. Provided the negro is held in bondage and denied the rights of
human nature, they are willing that any severity should be exercised
towards his rebellious master. Now we have no revengeful feeling towards
the master at all. We think that he is a victim as well as an oppressor.
We wish to emancipate the master as well as the slave, and we think that
thousands of masters are persons who merely submit to the conditions
of labor established in their respective localities. Our opposition is
directed, not against Jefferson Davis, but against the system whose
cumulative corruptions and enormities Jefferson Davis very fairly
represents. As an individual, Jefferson Davis is not worse than many
people whom a general amnesty would preserve in their persons and
property. To hang him, and at the same time guaranty Slavery, would be
like destroying a plant by a vain attempt to kill its most poisonous
blossom. Our opposition is not to the blossom, but to the root.

We admit that to strike at the root is a very difficult operation. In
the present condition of the country it may present obstacles which will
practically prove insuperable. But it is plain that we can strike lower
than the blossom; and it is also plain that we must, as practical
men, devise some method by which the existence of the Slavocracy as a
political power may be annihilated. The President of the United States
has lately recommended that Congress offer the cooperation and financial
aid of the whole nation in a peaceful effort to abolish Slavery,--with
a significant hint, that, unless the loyal Slave States accept the
proposition, the necessities of the war may dictate severer measures.
Emancipation is the policy of the Government, and will soon be the
determination of the people. Whether it shall be gradual or immediate
depends altogether on the slaveholders themselves. The prolongation of
the war for a year, and the operation of the internal tax bill, will
convert all the voters of the Free States, whether Republicans or
Democrats, into practical Emancipationists. The tax bill alone will
teach the people important lessons which no politicians can gainsay.
Every person who buys a piece of broadcloth or calico,--every person who
takes a cup of tea or coffee,--every person who lives from day to day
on the energy he thinks he derives from patent medicines, or beer, or
whiskey,--every person who signs a note, or draws a bill of exchange, or
sends a telegraphic despatch, or advertises in a newspaper, or makes a
will, or "raises" anything, or manufactures anything, will naturally
inquire why he or she is compelled to submit to an irritating as well as
an onerous tax. The only answer that can possibly be returned is this,--
that all these vexatious burdens are necessary because a comparatively
few persons out of an immense population have chosen to get up a civil
war in order to protect and foster their slave-property, and the
political power it confers. As this property is but a small fraction of
the whole property of the country, and as its owners are not a hundredth
part of the population of the country, does any sane man doubt that the
slave-property will be relentlessly confiscated in order that the Slave
Power may be forever crushed?

There are, we know, persons in the Free States who pretend to believe
that the war will leave Slavery where the war found it,--that our half
a million of soldiers have gone South on a sort of military picnic,
and will return in a cordial mood towards their Southern brethren in
arms,--and that there is no real depth and earnestness of purpose in the
Free States. Though one year has done the ordinary work of a century
in effecting or confirming changes in the ideas and sentiments of the
people, these persons still sagely rely on the party-phrases current
some eighteen months ago to reconstruct the Union on the old basis of
the domination of the Slave Power, through the combination of a divided
North with a united South. By the theory of these persons, there is
something peculiarly sacred in property in men, distinguishing it from
the more vulgar form of property in things; and though the cost of
putting down the Rebellion will nearly equal the value of the Southern
slaves, considered as chattels, they suppose that the owners of property
in things will cheerfully submit to be taxed for a thousand millions,--a
fourth of the almost fabulous debt of England,--without any irritation
against the chivalric owners of property in men, whose pride, caprice,
and insubordination have made the taxation necessary. Such may possibly
be the fact, but as sane men we cannot but disbelieve it. Our conviction
is, that, whether the war is ended in three months or in twelve months,
the Slave Power is sure to be undermined or overthrown.

The sooner the war is ended, the more favorable will be the terms
granted to the Slavocracy; but no terms will be granted which do not
look to its extinction. The slaveholders are impelled by their system to
complete victory or utter ruin. If they obey the laws of their system,
they have, from present appearances, nothing but defeat, beggary, and
despair to expect. If they violate the laws of their system, they must
take their place in some one of the numerous degrees, orders, and ranks
of the Abolitionists. It will be well for them, if the wilfulness
developed by their miserable system gives way to the plain reason and
logic of facts and events. It will be well for them, if they submit to a
necessity, not only inherent in the inevitable operation of divine laws,
but propelled by half a million of men in arms. Be it that God is on the
side of the heaviest column,--there can be no doubt that the heaviest
column is now the column of Freedom.

* * * * *


THE VOLUNTEER.


"At dawn," he said, "I bid them all farewell,
To go where bugles call and rifles gleam."
And with the restless thought asleep he fell,
And glided into dream.

A great hot plain from sea to mountain spread,--
Through it a level river slowly drawn.
He moved with a vast crowd, and at its head
Streamed banners like the dawn.

There came a blinding flash, a deafening roar,
And dissonant cries of triumph and dismay;
Blood trickled down the river's reedy shore,
And with the dead he lay.

The morn broke in upon his solemn dream;
And still, with steady pulse and deepening eye,
"Where bugles call," he said, "and rifles gleam,
I follow, though I die!"

Wise youth! By few is glory's wreath attained;
But death or late or soon awaiteth all.
To fight in Freedom's cause is something gained,--
And nothing lost, to fall.




SPEECH OF HON'BLE PRESERVED DOE IN SECRET CAUCUS.

_To the Editors of the_ ATLANTIC MONTHLY.


Jaalam, 12th April, 1862.

GENTLEMEN,--As I cannot but hope that the ultimate, if not speedy,
success of the national arms is now sufficiently ascertained, sure as
I am of the righteousness of our cause and its consequent claim on the
blessing of God, (for I would not show a faith inferiour to that of the
pagan historian with his _Facile evenit quod Dis cordi est_,) it seems
to me a suitable occasion to withdraw our minds a moment from the
confusing din of battle to objects of peaceful and permanent interest.
Let us not neglect the monuments of preterite history because what
shall be history is so diligently making under our eyes. _Cras ingens
iterabimus aequor_; to-morrow will be time enough for that stormy sea;
to-day let me engage the attention of your readers with the Runick
inscription to whose fortunate discovery I have heretofore alluded. Well
may we say with the poet, _Multa renascuntur quae jam cecidere_. And I
would premise, that, although I can no longer resist the evidence of my
own senses from the stone before me to the ante-Columbian discovery of
this continent by the Northmen, _gens inclytissima_, as they are called
in Palermitan inscription, written fortunately in a less debatable
character than that which I am about to decypher, yet I would by no
means be understood as wishing to vilipend the merits of the great
Genoese, whose name will never be forgotten so long as the inspiring
strains of "Hail Columbia" shall continue to be heard. Though he must
be stripped also of whatever praise may belong to the experiment of the
egg, which I find proverbially attributed by Castilian authours to a
certain Juanito or Jack, (perhaps an offshoot of our giant-killing my
thus,) his name will still remain one of the most illustrious of modern
times. But the impartial historian owes a duty likewise to obscure
merit, and my solicitude to render a tardy justice is perhaps quickened
by my having known those who, had their own field of labour been less
secluded, might have found a readier acceptance with the reading
publick. I could give an example, but I forbear: _forsitan nostris ex
ossibus oritur ultor_.

Touching Runick inscriptions, I find that they may be classed under
three general heads: 1 deg.. Those which are understood by the Danish Royal
Society of Northern Antiquaries, and Professor Rafn, their Secretary;
2 deg.. Those which are comprehensible only by Mr Rafn; and 3º. Those which
neither the Society, Mr Rafn, nor anybody else can be said in any
definite sense to understand, and which accordingly offer peculiar
temptations to enucleating sagacity. These last are naturally deemed the
most valuable by intelligent antiquaries, and to this class the stone
now in my possession fortunately belongs. Such give a picturesque
variety to ancient events, because susceptible oftentimes of as many
interpretations as there are individual archaeologists; and since facts
are only the pulp in which the Idea or event-seed is softly imbedded
till it ripen, it is of little consequence what colour or flavour we
attribute to them, provided it be agreeable. Availing myself of the
obliging assistance of Mr. Arphaxad Bowers, an ingenious photographick
artist, whose house-on-wheels has now stood for three years on our
Meeting-House Green, with the somewhat contradictory inscription,--"_Our
motto is onward_,"--I have sent accurate copies of my treasure to many
learned men and societies, both native and European. I may hereafter
communicate their different and (_me judice_) equally erroneous
solutions. I solicit also, Messrs. Editors, your own acceptance of the
copy herewith inclosed. I need only premise further, that the stone
itself is a goodly block of metamorphick sandstone, and that the Runes
resemble very nearly the ornithichnites or fossil bird-tracks of Dr.
Hitchcock, but with less regularity or apparent design than is displayed
by those remarkable geological monuments. These are rather the _non bene
junctarum discordia semina rerum_. Resolved to leave no door open to
cavil, I first of all attempted the elucidation of this remarkable
example of lithick literature by the ordinary modes, but with no
adequate return for my labour. I then considered myself amply justified
in resorting to that heroick treatment the felicity of which, as applied
by the great Bentley to Milton, had long ago enlisted my admiration.
Indeed, I had already made up my mind, that, in case good-fortune should
throw any such invaluable record in my way, I would proceed with it
in the following simple and satisfactory method. After a cursory
examination, merely sufficing for an approximative estimate of its
length, I would write down a hypothetical inscription based upon
antecedent probabilities, and then proceed to extract from the
characters engraven on the stone a meaning as nearly as possible
conformed to this _a priori_ product of my own ingenuity. The result
more than justified my hopes, inasmuch as the two inscriptions were made
without any great violence to tally in all essential particulars. I then
proceeded, not without some anxiety, to my second test, which was, to
read the Runick letters diagonally, and again with the same success.
With an excitement pardonable under the circumstances, yet tempered
with thankful humility, I now applied my last and severest trial, my
_experimentum crucis_. I turned the stone, now doubly precious in my
eyes, with scrupulous exactness upside down. The physical exertion so
far displaced my spectacles as to derange for a moment the focus of
vision. I confess that it was with some tremulousness that I readjusted
them upon my nose, and prepared my mind to bear with calmness any
disappointment that might ensue. But, _O albo dies notanda lapillo!_
what was my delight to find that the change of position had effected
none in the sense of the writing, even by so much as a single letter!
I was now, and justly, as I think, satisfied of the conscientious
exactness of my interpretation. It is as follows:--


HERE

BJARNA GRIMOLFSSON

FIRST DRANK CLOUD-BROTHER

THROUGH CHILD-OF-LAND-AND-WATER:

that is, drew smoke through a reed stem. In other words, we have here
a record of the first smoking of the herb _Nicotiana Tabacum_ by a
European on this continent. The probable results of this discovery are
so vast as to baffle conjecture. If it be objected, that the smoking
of a pipe would hardly justify the setting up of a memorial stone, I
answer, that even now the Moquis Indian, ere he takes his first whiff,
bows reverently toward the four quarters of the sky in succession, and
that the loftiest monuments have been reared to perpetuate fame, which
is the dream of the shadow of smoke. The _Saga_, it will be remembered,
leaves this Bjarna to a fate something like that of Sir Humphrey
Gilbert, on board a sinking ship in the "wormy sea," having generously
given up his place in the boat to a certain Icelander. It is doubly
pleasant, therefore, to meet with this proof that the brave old man
arrived safely in Vinland, and that his declining years were cheered by
the respectful attentions of the dusky denizens of our then uninvaded
forests. Most of all was I gratified, however, in thus linking forever
the name of my native town with one of the most momentous occurrences of
modern times. Hitherto Jaalam, though in soil, climate, and geographical
position as highly qualified to be the theatre of remarkable historical
incidents as any spot on the earth's surface, has been, if I may say it
without seeming to question the wisdom of Providence, almost maliciously
neglected, as it might appear, by occurrences of world-wide interest in
want of a situation. And in matters of this nature it must be confessed
that adequate events are as necessary as the _vates sacer_ to record
them. Jaalam stood always modestly ready, but circumstances made no
fitting response to her generous intentions. Now, however, she assumes
her place on the historick roll. I have hitherto been a zealous opponent
of the Circean herb, but I shall now reexamine the question without
bias.

I am aware that the Rev'd Jonas Tutchel, in a recent communication to
the Bogus Four Corners Weekly Meridian, has endeavoured to show that
this is the sepulchral inscription of Thorwald Eriksson, who, as is well
known, was slain in Vinland by the natives. But I think he has been
misled by a preconceived theory, and cannot but feel that he has thus
made an ungracious return for my allowing him to inspect the stone with
the aid of my own glasses (he having by accident left his at home)
and in my own study. The heathen ancients might have instructed this
Christian minister in the rites of hospitality; but much is to be
pardoned to the spirit of self-love. He must indeed be ingenious who can
make out the words _her hrilir_ from any characters in the inscription
in question, which, whatever else it may be, is certainly not mortuary.
And even should the reverend gentleman succeed in persuading some
fantastical wits of the soundness of his views, I do not see what useful
end he will have gained. For if the English Courts of Law hold the
testimony of grave-stones from the burial-grounds of Protestant
dissenters to be questionable, even where it is essential in proving a
descent, I cannot conceive that the epitaphial assertions of heathens
should be esteemed of more authority by any man of orthodox sentiments.

At this moment, happening to cast my eyes upon the stone, on which a
transverse light from my southern window brings out the characters
with singular distinctness, another interpretation has occurred to me,
promising even more interesting results. I hasten to close my letter in
order to follow at once the clue thus providentially suggested.

I inclose, as usual, a contribution from Mr. Biglow, and remain,
Gentlemen, with esteem and respect,

Your Ob't Humble Servant,

HOMER WILBUR. A.M.

I thank ye, my friens, for the warmth o' your greetin':
Ther' 's few airthly blessins but wut's vain an' fleetin';
But ef ther' is one thet hain't _no_ cracks an' flaws,
An' is wuth goin' in for, it's pop'lar applause;
It sends up the sperits ez lively ez rockets,
An' I feel it--wal, down to the eend o' my pockets.
Jes' lovin' the people is Canaan in view,
But it's Canaan paid quarterly t' hev 'em love you;
It's a blessin' thet's breakin' out ollus in fresh spots;
It's a-follerin' Moses 'thout losin' the flesh-pots.

But, Gennlemen,'scuse me, I ain't sech a raw cus
Ez to go luggin' ellerkence into a caucus,--
Thet is, into one where the call comprehens
Nut the People in person, but on'y their friens;
I'm so kin' o' used to convincin' the masses
Of th' edvantage o' bein' self-governin' asses,
I forgut thet _we_ 're all o' the sort thet pull wires
An' arrange for the public their wants an' desires,
An' thet wut we hed met for wuz jes' to agree
Wut the People's opinions in futur' should be.

But to come to the nuh, we've ben all disappinted,
An' our leadin' idees are a kind o' disjinted,--
Though, fur ez the nateral man could discern,
Things ough' to ha' took most an oppersite turn.
But The'ry is jes' like a train on the rail,
Thet, weather or no, puts her thru without fail,
While Fac's the ole stage thet gits sloughed in the ruts,
An' hez to allow for your darned efs an' buts,
An' so, nut intendin' no pers'nal reflections,
They don't--don't nut allus, thet is--make connections:
Sometimes, when it really doos seem thet they'd oughter
Combine jest ez kindly ez new rum an' water,
Both 'll be jest ez sot in their ways ez a bagnet,
Ez otherwise-minded ez th' eends of a magnet,
An' folks like you 'n me, thet ain't ept to be sold,
Git somehow or 'nother left out in the cold.

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