Sufferings in the North.
An Episcopal clergyman in one of the Northwestern States
, writing to a friend in this city, says: ‘"The derangements of business which have taken place have beggared thousands; the battles which have been fought have widowed and orphaned tens of thousands; our once fertile valleys have become great cemeteries, and our churches, hotels, and colleges converted into hospitals."’
This is a picture of the effects of the war in the North
which we are not permitted to see in the columns of Northern newspapers.
But it comes from a more reliable source than a passioned and pfligate press, and is unquestionably true in every particular.
The destruction of life among Northern soldiers must have been terrible indeed, when, with the multitudinous resources which that populous section possesses for the reception and relief of the sick and wounded, "churches, hotels, and colleges are converted into hospitals. " and the "once fertile valleys have become great cemeteries." We venture to say that the Southern
people are not aware of a hundredth part of the distress and destruction which the North
has suffered in this war. The Southern bullet has not been thrown away, and the diseases of the Southern
climate have told with fearful force upon the invaders.
The powers of Nature have combined with the energies of men to decimate the immense hosts which have vainly endeavored to subjugate the South
The holiday entertainment which the North
promised itself in this war has become a ghostly carnival of blood and death, and already it recoils in secret from the horrors which remain undisclosed in the silent and solemn future.
We are fully prepared to believe that the great mass of the Northern
people, if the politicians would leave them to themselves, would at once make peace.
They are satisfied with glory, they have had enough of the "bubble reputation," such as it is, and they would be glad, upon any terms, to exchange the musket for that more familiar weapon, the yardstick.
It is not that they lack courage; but, like all commercial people, they count the cost of their undertakings, and are not enamored of any enterprise that doesn't pay.--They shudder at the repetition of the dismal and sanguinary scenes of the past.
They dread the idea of being called off themselves or having their sons and brothers called off to encounter the sharp edge of the Southern bayonet, or the equally deadly assault of Southern diseases.
Their imagination paints the future in sombre colors.
So long as foreigners could be employed to fight their battles, they could not have many of their men killed.
But now it is their own fish and blood that must be dragged off to the war, and in view of the terrible facts, we believe nine out of ten of them, in their inmost hearts, would rejoice if peace could be declared to morrow, at the cost of acknowledging the entire and perfect independence of the South
We believe that nine out of ten of the Northern
army would vote the same way as the Northern
And yet peace is so far off at this moment that we are unable, with the strongest telescope of Hope, to descry over the vast expanse of raging waters, even the faintest resemblance of land or to make out in the clouded heavens a single star, or one hue of the rainbow to indicate that the storm will cease.
The war most by this time have demonstrated, that the people have as little control of a republican as of a monarchical government.
No matter what the people may wish, how they may suffer, how they may groan in and despair, they have placed in the hands of their rulers that terrific engine of despotism, a vast standing army, and henceforth their lives and fortunes and happiness are at his entire disposal.
Even the army itself, such is the complete control which military gives to a single head, can no more exert its power to give relief to the people or itself than a horse can throw off a practiced rider.
We place no confidence for the future, therefore, upon any longings which the people, or even the army of the United States may have for peace.
Reward is on their backs, and, nolens volens,
they must go when and whither that devil drives.
Sure destruction is before them; fields piled with their dead, livers running crimson with their gore; churches, hotels, and colleges crowded with their dead and dying.
Is it not fearful that the few should thus sack and ruin the many; that politicians and speculators should thus banquet upon the life-blood of the multitude whilst they never venture their own persons with in the possibility of harm?
And yet so it is; and Lincoln
cracks his stale jokes in safety, whilst the death groans of his dupes are burthening every gale; and Seward
drinks his wine gally whilst the wine of life is rushing red and fast from thousands of bosoms which but for him might be heating high with life and happiness.
There is no hope of a termination of the war except in crushing the enemy upon every battle field, and making him feel that the South
is but just buckling on its armor for the war, and is determined to fight it out till the crack of dawn corner than return to the detested Union, or yield an lota of its sacred rights.
The pioneer of the United States
cannot carry on much longer such a burthen as this war, if its fortunes battle continue to prove as dismal and ign in the future as the past.