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Robert E. Lee Portrait
BALLAD OF THE CRESCENT
IN the City of the Crescent, by
red Mississippi's waves, Dwells the haughty Creole matron with her daughters and
Round her throng the rebel
knighthood, fierce of word and proud of crest,
Slightly redolent of julep,
cocktail, cobbler, and the rest
Of those miscellaneous tipples
that the Southern heart impel
To the mighty threats of prowess
whose dread (?) fruits we know so well.
Round the matron and her
daughters ring chivalric voices high:
Not the meanest soul among them
but is sworn to do or die! "Never to the Yankee Vandal, foul and horned thing of
Will they leave their maids and
matrons while a single vein holds blood!
Perish every Southron sooner!
Death? They crave it as a boon!"
Then each desperate knight
retires—to his favorite Quadroon!
In the City of the Crescent, by
red Mississippi's waves,
Sits the haughty Creole matron
with her daughters and
But her eye no longer flashes
with the fire it held of late, For, alas! the Yankee Vandals thunder at the city
gate. Proud on Mississippi's waters, looming o'er the dark levee, Ride the
gallant Northern war-ships, floats the Banner of
While a calm-eyed Captain paces
through a sea of scowling men
To demand the full surrender of
the city there and then. Yet the haughty Creole lady's sorest sorrow lies not
there: 'Tis not that the Yankee mudsills will pollute her sacred
Though her delicate fibres
shudder doubtless at the dreadful thought
That her soft and fragrant
breathings may by Yankee lips be caught;
No! the cut of all unkindest—that
which makes her heart dilate—
Is, her knights have all
"skedaddled," and have left her to her fate!
Yes, no strength of smash or
julep, nor the cocktail's bitterest heat,
Kept those recreant warriors
steady when they saw the Yankee fleet:
All their desperate prowess
vanished like a mist before the moon—
Left they Creole maid and matron,
even left the dear Quadroon!
In the City of the Crescent, by
red Mississippi's waves, Walks the haughty Creole matron with her daughters and
Freedom's flag is floating o'er
her, Freedom's sons she passes by,
And the olden scornful fire burns
rekindled in her eye. How dare Freedom thus insult her? How dare mudsills walk
Whose each stone to her is
hallowed by the toil-sweat of the slave?
"What! you call that rag your
banner? You, Sir, hireling, hound, I mean!
Thus I spit upon your emblem! Let
your churl's blood wash it clean!
Well you wear your liveried
jacket, hireling bravo that you are!
Lackey, paid to rob and murder in
a thin disguise of war!" Thus with many a taunting gesture, speaks she to the
As she flaunts along the sidewalk
with her daughters and her slaves!
Naught reply the Northern
soldiers, smiling, though they feel the stings
Of the foul and meretricious
taunts the Southern lady flings;
So she passes, while the venom
from her fragrant mouth still slips
Like the loathsome toads and
lizards from the enchanted maiden's lips,
And her spotless soul joys
doubtless, soft her modest bosom beats,
That she so has aped the harlot
in her city's public streets!
In the City of the Crescent, by
red Mississippi's waves, Walks the haughty Creole lady with her daughters and
But her eye no longer flashes
with its wonted fire of hate; Her tongue is strangely silent now, and modest is
her gait; With quiet mien and humble she passes soldiers by,
Nor ever on our country's flag
turns a defiant eye.
What wondrous glamour so bath
changed the haughty lady's mien?
The crime of her rebellious heart
hath she in sorrow seen?
Or has her spotless bosom owned
that Yankees there maybe Worthy of even a Creole's love? Is hers no longer free?
No; it is none of these have
tamed the lady's rebel soul;
On each mudsill she, certes,
still breathes inward curse and dole!
And as for love, save for her
knight, no love her heart can stir,
Since o'er a julep's sugared
brink he swore to die for her; For though he died not, but preferred another
field to seek, 'Twas only, as she knows, because the julep was too weak! 'Twas
none of these! A sterner cause for change of mien had she!
For spitting once too often at
the Banner of the Free,
And once too oft through her PURE
lips the venom letting loose,
The haughty Creole dame was shown
SATURDAY, JUNE 14, 1862.
PROGRESS OF THE WEEK.
WHEN we closed the last number of
the public mind had been rendered so uneasy by the repulse of Banks, and the
alarm which it caused in Washington, that we deemed it necessary to assure our
readers that all was not lost; that the entire militia of the North would not be
wanted; and that, so far as we could judge, the rebels would not take Washington
in the next day or two. A week has elapsed, and the aspect of affairs is
certainly more cheerful.
McClellan's army, after having fought two battles, is
within four miles of Richmond. From the balloon in which the General directs the
operations of his army he can see
the trembling leaders of the rebellion gathering in knots at street-corners in
their chosen capital, wringing their hands, and bewailing their destiny. There
may be another battle before Richmond, or it may be evacuated as every other
place has been which the rebels had said they would hold. But whether they fight
or run, Richmond will be ours in a given number of days.
Corinth, the great strong-hold of
the Southwest, has been fortified only to be abandoned. The original design of
the rebels in falling back from Corinth was probably to gain a safer position in
the heart of the cotton States—such as Chattanooga, Atlanta, or
Montgomery—where they might be joined by such
portions of the army in Virginia as remain organized after the fall of
Richmond. But fate disconcerts many well-laid
plans. Colonel Elliott has put a stop to the further flight of rebels by way of
the Mobile and Ohio Road; and we hear from
General Halleck's army that a large number of
Beauregard's troops fled westward toward Grand Junction and
Memphis. Where and how can Beauregard reunite
his scattered regiments? May not the rebel army of the Southwest be considered
as practically dispersed and disbanded—broken up into guerrilla bands and swamp
Finally, the scene of Banks's
reverse is now the scene of Union triumphs.
Fremont has crossed the mountains from Franklin
to Strasburg and engaged Jackson. Another Union army has reoccupied Front Royal,
and driven back a rebel force with heavy loss. And Banks himself, strongly
reinforced, is pushing up the valley from
Winchester. Unless Jackson has retreated as
skillfully and as swiftly as Banks did, the army which so lately threw the North
into a panic will very shortly be an army no more.
THE WORK OF RECONSTRUCTION.
New Orleans, are the points where the forces of
the United States are experimenting on the reunion of the United States. If we
restore the Union feeling there, we can do it throughout the South. If we can
not succeed there, the bulk of the white people of the South will have to be
exiled, or got rid of in some way, in order to reconstruct the Union and secure
the safety of the North.
We are happy to refer to
Baltimore. Thirteen months ago Baltimore was as thoroughly rebel as any city at
the South. Our troops were assassinated in passing through its streets. Mayor,
Common Council, and even the Governor, united in a protest against the transit
of Union soldiers through Baltimore for the protection of Washington. All
classes were saturated with disloyalty—so much so that Mr. Cameron, the
Secretary of War, desired to hang all the officials of the place on the trees of
the War Department; and the best men of the North would have been glad to hear
that the city had been shelled to ruins. Thirteen months have elapsed, during
which we have held Baltimore and Maryland under strict military rule. We have
garrisoned the city and the State with loyal troops. We have built forts with
guns commanding the city. We have lodged mayors, councilors, and State
Legislature in prison. We have suppressed disloyal newspapers. We have shut
disloyal mouths. Meanwhile we have protected Maryland from being the seat of
war—as it would have been if the rebel Marylanders had had their way—and have
enabled the people of that State to earn an honest living. The result of this
policy is before us. Baltimore is now as violent on the side of Union as it was
on the side of rebellion thirteen months ago. One of the best regiments in our
service was recruited in Baltimore, and is, or was, commanded by a Baltimore
man. In the terse language of the telegraphic reporter, "Wherever secessionists
show their faces they are knocked down by the people." But for the interference
of our troops one of them would have been hanged the other day. A meeting of
Methodists, believed to be tainted with treason, created such excitement among
the people that the police had to interfere and conduct the members to their
homes through back streets. There where, thirteen months ago, women calling
themselves ladies made a point of insulting our troops at every step, thousands
of loyal banners and waving handkerchiefs welcomed the march of the Seventh last
week. So far as Baltimore is concerned the work is done. In that city, if the
Union sentiment did not exist originally, we have created it. And the
manufactured article seems good of its kind.
In Nashville and New Orleans the
experiment has not yet progressed so far. We have held Nashville two months, New
Orleans one. The results, however, as far as they go, are satisfactory.
In Nashville troops have been
enlisted for the Union army. Union meetings have been held, and the best people
of the place have attended and indorsed Union resolutions. Confederate notes are
uncurrent, and United States notes are eagerly taken. Cotton and other Southern
produce have been exported, and are still coming forward. The rebel organs are
and for the first time since the
slavery rebellion began, the people have a chance of ascertaining the facts.
Residents say that they would unhesitatingly come forward and declare themselves
for the Union but for the fear of the return of the rebels. As soon as they
learn that Beauregard has fled toward the Gulf they will probably conclude that
the chances of a restoration of the rebel dynasty are too slim to merit
consideration. We may then expect to hear of a remarkable development of
Under the vigorous administration
Major-General Butler, New Orleans is steadily returning into shape. General
Butler has been more energetic and less conciliatory than
General Dix and
Governor Johnson: his iron hand has not been covered with a silken glove. We
venture the prediction that his success will be all the more thorough and
speedy. The good people of Louisiana are already complaining that they have been
victimized by the rebels. And no wonder. What could be more outrageous than the
destruction of cotton and sugar, while hundreds of thousands of human beings are
starving to death for want of the food which could only be purchased with this
cotton and sugar? To bring the people of Louisiana entirely to their senses,
nothing more is needed than a plain statement of this, and we are glad to see
that General Butler has stated it. When one reads of the heart-rending
sufferings of the people of the Gulf States—of whole families starving, and
every rich man reduced to poverty—one is tempted to regret that the civilization
of the age forbids the infliction of the tortures of the Inquisition upon the
miscreant authors of these atrocities. Strict Justice would require that Davis,
Beauregard, and Lovell should expiate their crimes on the rack or at the stake.
Meanwhile, the revival of trade, and the exemplary punishment of traitors by
General' Butler, is gradually developing a Union sentiment at New Orleans as the
like policy did at Baltimore. The argumentum ad ventrem is doing the work.
In order to create a Union
sentiment at the South, we must satisfy the people of that section that we are
stronger than they, and that we are thoroughly in earnest in our purpose of
preserving the soil of the United States undivided. We must then show them that
if they persevere in rebellion they can not escape hunger and misery; that they
will be outcasts without property or rights of any kind; that it is a mere
question of time how soon they will be hunted down; that it is simply due to our
forbearance that the negroes have not been armed for insurrection; whereas, on
the other hand, if they return to their loyalty, they will be received into the
Union with the same rights as the people of the North, and will be assisted by a
generous Government to emancipate their
slaves and start afresh in a new and
wholesome career of industry. When this is done, the work of reconstruction will
be more than half achieved.
THE JEWEL IN THE TOAD'S HEAD.
SOME weeks since an order was
suddenly issued by the Secretary of War for all the troops in Washington to be
ready for an immediate movement. The response was perfect. The Mix cavalry, for
instance, were in the saddle with forage and two days' rations within a quarter
of an hour. The forces were then informed that the object of the order was to
prove their condition, and that it was found to be entirely satisfactory.
The news of Banks's rapid and
masterly retreat down the Shenandoah Valley was an equally sudden call upon the
condition and readiness of the whole country, and the response was equally
perfect. It seems almost worth while, saving the suffering of our brave troops,
that the retreat should have occurred, for it has revealed to ourselves our
continued energy and spirit just as the fall of
Sumter revealed their existence.
It was a public surprise, but not a panic. There was great indignation, but
there was none of the soul-sickening consternation that immediately, but only
temporarily, succeeded the dark day at
Bull Run. The Stock market, that most
sensitive indicator of panic, varied very slightly; and the regiments marched gayly, not solemnly away, as in the hour of conscious National peril a year ago.
The retreat has had the valuable
effect of showing to the most timid and treacherous among ourselves, and to the
most truculent and ferocious of the rebels, that the task this nation is
summoned to achieve it will accomplish, without dismay, without fatigue, without
faltering, and at whatever cost of time, and blood, and money. The patriotic
Jeff Davis who wishes only to be let alone, must have sighed
and groaned as they heard the murmur of joyful and instant readiness all over
the loyal part of the land. All the abettors of infamous treason who try to
paralyze patriotism by calling it abolitionism, must have gazed in dire dismay
upon their laborious toil of a year undone in a moment. Just as they thought to
stagger the country into consenting to its own destruction, by showing how
expensive it is to suppress a barbarous rebellion, they see that the country
would gladly double its expenditure, if it were necessary, for its salvation.
The Southern rebels are fond of citing classical incidents and examples. Let
them understand, then, that Sisyphus and Tantalus were idle and contented
gentlemen compared with their friends at the North; and that the ladies who
baled water in sieves would sooner have emptied the ocean than the allies of
rebels in and
out of Congress could weaken the
unanimity and fervor of the National devotion.
Was it Napoleon who stamped his
foot and legions of armed men sprang from the ground? No, it was not; for
Napoleon by the most remorseless conscription drew soldiers to his army. So
Davis, and Floyd, and Cobb scrape the streets to swell their starved and
sickened ranks of rebellion; while one whisper that more men are wanted brings
thousands willing, eager, and rejoiced, to march, to fight, and to fall, if it
must be, for our country—our great, generous, and glorious mother.
THE FEROCITY OF THE REBELLION.
THE cruel and incredible
barbarities, treacheries, and crimes of the rebels every day accumulate in
horror. "The Louisiana was set on fire and sent down on the vessels while I was
engaged in drawing up a capitulation for the surrender of the forts, a flag of
truce flying at the time," says
Commodore Porter, at New Orleans. They cut off
the heads of our dead at Manassas; they boiled the bodies to get the bones more
readily; they buried our brave brothers with their faces down; they swung their
heads as trophies upon their homeward march through East Tennessee; they drew
Kenly and his heroic troop of Marylanders with a white flag, then unrolled the
black and massacred them; they bayoneted the wounded in the Virginia valley;
they blew their heads off with the muzzles of their guns held close; they hung
old men and young men in Tennessee guilty of loving their country, making the
father sit beneath the gallows while they strangled his son, and then with jeers
and oaths hung the father beside him; they suspended corpses on trees by
railroad tracks, and "slowed" the trains as they passed, while women waved
handkerchiefs from the windows of the cars; they shot into our ambulances
carrying the wounded and dying; women from the Winchester windows fired pistols
at our retreating troops; they poisoned wells and cakes; they planted torpedoes
at Yorktown and
Hilton Head to blow up our soldiers. This is the spirit of
secession—"a spirit of murder, of assassination, of hell!" said
and he told the truth.
This is that chivalric, refined,
proud people, who are striking gallantly for their liberty against the ruthless
hordes hurled upon them by the lust of power in the North. This is that
gentlemanly, courteous, sensitive people, who can not associate with Yankee
tinkers and peddlers. This is that "master race," as De Bow calls it, dealing
with the "subject races" of the North. The ghastly story of their crimes against
God and man is only heard by us as yet in tragic whispers. Dishonor and infamy
of every kind; ferocity which Feejees could not emulate; superstition,
ignorance, and bestiality—these are the qualities which have bred and sustained
this rebellion, and these are the qualities that slavery breeds. That every
rebel is inhuman no one would say. That there is no intelligence, no generosity,
no honor among the rebels, is not asserted. But that the controlling spirit of
the movement is one of utter ferocity, hate, ignorance, and barbarism is as
palpable as its causelessness and dishonor. There is scarcely a parent who would
not rather hear that his soldier son was shot dead than that he had fallen
wounded into the hands of these men. He could as hopefully trust to the tender
mercies of Nena Sahib as to theirs.
Why, then, do we insist upon
retaining them as fellow-citizens? For the same reason that the city of New York
does not recognize the independence of all its malefactors and scalliwags.
Because the trouble and expense of letting them go as enemies are a
thousand-fold greater than that of conquering, holding, and subduing them into
decent citizens. Because if a limb is diseased it is wiser to cure it than to
cut it off.
In the rebels we are dealing with
blind enemies, not with friends who are mistaken. The loyal Union men in the
rebel section are, of course, our friends; but they are not mistaken. Jeff Davis
is not our mistaken friend, nor Judah Benjamin, nor Mason, nor Slidell, nor
Cobb, nor Pierre Soule. They are more our remorseless enemies than any
Englishman or Frenchman would be, if we were at war with England or France. The
rank and file of their followers are indeed mistaken, because these leaders by
careful falsehood have misled them. But this multitude are none the less our
bitter enemies. The very ignorance upon which the leaders play makes their
followers ferocious in their hate.
Among the whites in the rebel
section there are but these three classes: friends, and intelligent and ignorant
enemies. The former no radical and necessary measure for their relief can
alienate. Is there any blow at rebellion so sharp and strong that it will dismay
Brownlow or the brave Bouligny of New Orleans? "You needn't hold courts to try
men for treason in East Tennessee," said a Union man there (not Brownlow) to a
friend of the Lounger's—"there won't be any traitors to try; they'll be
exterminated." If, then, our friends in the rebel section can not be readily
alienated, neither can our enemies be "exasperated," for you can not heat iron
already white hot. The question can not be tortured into one of conciliation; it
is simply a question of conquest and policy. It will be decided by superior
force, and then settled by superior force. Some foreign paper says that it
doesn't understand how a republic can retain a half dozen millions of unwilling
citizens. It has only to wait, and it will learn.
MR. B. F. THOMAS, of Massachusetts, formerly
a distinguished judge in that State, is the present
representative in Congress from John Quincy Adams's district. He is a man of
unblemished character, and of great accomplishment and ability, but hitherto
little known in political life. He was nominated upon the appointment to England
of his predecessor, Charles Francis Adams, and during "the great uprising" of
the North after the fall of Sumter. His district is Republican. There was (Next