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Browsing named entities in Charles Congdon, Tribune Essays: Leading Articles Contributing to the New York Tribune from 1857 to 1863. (ed. Horace Greeley).

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ent. when, a few days since, we heard from Gov. Wise, he was in the hands of his medical man taking his pills and potions with a perseverance and a punctuality which seems to have been rewarded; for his Excellency is now clothed at least, if not in his right mind, and is making speeches with all that lunatic force which has always, in the day of his bodily health and strength, characterized his frenzied eloquence. He took the field in his finest fulgurant style at Richmond, Va., on the 1st inst. though it is only lately through The Charleston (S. C.) Courier that he reaches us in red-hot report. He followed Jeferson Davis, and in the matter of fuss and fire, he floored that official completely. In pure, unmitigtatd and sublimely inventive mendacity, we are inclined to think that Mr. Davis can give the Virginian any odds, and then vanquish him; but in the beautiful art of saying nothing and of seeming to say a great deal, Wise is still unsurpassed, nay, unapproached by any mortal
Inaugural glories. the gentlemen who do the didactic and the reflective for the picture-newspapers, have enlarged in sentences, more or less leaden, upon the moral grandeur of the inauguration spectacle; and have with patriotic pride speculated upon the wonder, not to say envy, with which the bedizened Embassadors must have gazed upon the fire-companies and the Pennsylvania militia. Admitting that we had a fine melodrama on the fourth instant, we have now come naturally to the farce. We certainly do not think that the Diplomatic Corps ever witnessed at home anything like this scramble for place, this contest for collectorships and clerkships, this pother about post-offices: in short, if we may use a coarse word, this grand grab for provender. The Malakoff was not more closely invested than the White House is now; and we verily believe that no Russian soldier in that stronghold was ever in half so much danger of his life as Mr. Buchanan is at the present time. We can easily im
s — to use his own noble language--attempting to sketch the rapidly-changing features of the times as they vary under the influence of events whirling into notice so telegraphically. Better writing than this we have never read, and if the gentleman goes on at this rate, we know well enough who will be the Xenophon of the war. The business at Columbia, as we gather from this journal, is principally campanological. They have a new bell in that city, and they ring it continually. On Tuesday, 8th ult., they rang it for the secession of Florida. On Thursday, 10th ult., they rang it for the secession of Mississippi. On Friday, 11th ult., they rang it for the secession of Alabama. On Sunday, the 13th ult., they do not appear to have troubled the bell-rope at all. Upon the 9th ult., having heard of the flight of the Star of the West, the diarist exclaims: This intelligence did not surprise us. We were already looking the reality of war in the face. Were they? And did they relish th
gh who will be the Xenophon of the war. The business at Columbia, as we gather from this journal, is principally campanological. They have a new bell in that city, and they ring it continually. On Tuesday, 8th ult., they rang it for the secession of Florida. On Thursday, 10th ult., they rang it for the secession of Mississippi. On Friday, 11th ult., they rang it for the secession of Alabama. On Sunday, the 13th ult., they do not appear to have troubled the bell-rope at all. Upon the 9th ult., having heard of the flight of the Star of the West, the diarist exclaims: This intelligence did not surprise us. We were already looking the reality of war in the face. Were they? And did they relish the prospect? Smoking cities, blockaded ports, famished wives, starving children, insurgent negroes — did they like the picture? Like it? How can any one be so simple as to put the question? Like it! We tell you that they pine and pant to be persecuted; they prefer to be wounded; they w
-changing features of the times as they vary under the influence of events whirling into notice so telegraphically. Better writing than this we have never read, and if the gentleman goes on at this rate, we know well enough who will be the Xenophon of the war. The business at Columbia, as we gather from this journal, is principally campanological. They have a new bell in that city, and they ring it continually. On Tuesday, 8th ult., they rang it for the secession of Florida. On Thursday, 10th ult., they rang it for the secession of Mississippi. On Friday, 11th ult., they rang it for the secession of Alabama. On Sunday, the 13th ult., they do not appear to have troubled the bell-rope at all. Upon the 9th ult., having heard of the flight of the Star of the West, the diarist exclaims: This intelligence did not surprise us. We were already looking the reality of war in the face. Were they? And did they relish the prospect? Smoking cities, blockaded ports, famished wives, starv
nts whirling into notice so telegraphically. Better writing than this we have never read, and if the gentleman goes on at this rate, we know well enough who will be the Xenophon of the war. The business at Columbia, as we gather from this journal, is principally campanological. They have a new bell in that city, and they ring it continually. On Tuesday, 8th ult., they rang it for the secession of Florida. On Thursday, 10th ult., they rang it for the secession of Mississippi. On Friday, 11th ult., they rang it for the secession of Alabama. On Sunday, the 13th ult., they do not appear to have troubled the bell-rope at all. Upon the 9th ult., having heard of the flight of the Star of the West, the diarist exclaims: This intelligence did not surprise us. We were already looking the reality of war in the face. Were they? And did they relish the prospect? Smoking cities, blockaded ports, famished wives, starving children, insurgent negroes — did they like the picture? Like it?
have never read, and if the gentleman goes on at this rate, we know well enough who will be the Xenophon of the war. The business at Columbia, as we gather from this journal, is principally campanological. They have a new bell in that city, and they ring it continually. On Tuesday, 8th ult., they rang it for the secession of Florida. On Thursday, 10th ult., they rang it for the secession of Mississippi. On Friday, 11th ult., they rang it for the secession of Alabama. On Sunday, the 13th ult., they do not appear to have troubled the bell-rope at all. Upon the 9th ult., having heard of the flight of the Star of the West, the diarist exclaims: This intelligence did not surprise us. We were already looking the reality of war in the face. Were they? And did they relish the prospect? Smoking cities, blockaded ports, famished wives, starving children, insurgent negroes — did they like the picture? Like it? How can any one be so simple as to put the question? Like it! We tell y
ighting after the quietus of all the men. How will Mrs. Col. Cotton be able to lead the Heavy Mothers to the charge, when her dear departed no longer animates her by his martial smile? How will Arabella, of the Light Artillery, deport herself at the guns, when Augustus sleeps in a soldier's grave? Who believes that the Maid of Saragossa would have rammed the great cannon with such astonishing virulence, if there had been no gallant gentlemen looking on? To return to our Diary. On Monday, 14th ult., we find the following discouraging entry: The war does not progress. As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, and as the thirsty soul panteth after the whiskey barrel, so does this man of memoranda pant for blood. Monday the fourteenth was a blue Monday indeed. Nothing to ring the bells for; no excuse for extra libations; even the small-pox subsiding — how monotonous in Columbia must that day have been. Something of the solitary sensations of Robinson Crusoe must have come over
are waiting for a General Proclamation of Suicide by their mock-President Davis. They are desirous of dying according to law, and of destroying themselves constitutionally. It becomes their Davis-ian Jefferson — the best Jefferson they have, poor fellows!--himself to set the example. When all is lost, we hold that it will be his duty to blow out what brains he may have left — his remainder cerebrum, so to speak. To make the whole proceeding more sublime, he might announce that upon the 14th inst., at high noon, he intended to consummate his felo de se, and request his friends and admirers to hang or shoot themselves, or to take big morphine pills, at the same identical moment. Then, with simultaneous kick or quiver, or firing their own salvo over their departure for Hades, the Chiefs of Secession might secede from this wicked world, and enter upon another from which, however hot, secession. will be impossible. We throw out these hints merely from an ardent passion for seeing t
Very particular. Mr. John F. Munroe is the worshipful Secession Mayor of New Orleans; and although we cannot recognize any man as a public officer who has repudiated his allegiance to the United States, yet, as somebody must do the epistolizing on the insurgent side, Munroe is perhaps as good as another for the purpose. His exceedingly cool letter of the 20th ult. to Capt. Farragut shows that he does not by any means intend to be diddled out of the sweets of his unfortunate situation. He is quite ready to surrender the city, but he wishes to do it genteelly; like the unhappy man at the Old Bailey, who insisted upon being carried up the scaffold stairs, as he could not conscientiously in any way be a party to his own death. So Mayor, or Ex-Mayor, or Mock-Mayor Munroe is highly fastidious. As for pulling down the Secession flag, he cannot do it; for he says that his hand would be paralyzed at the very thought of such an act. Also his heart. This would seem to settle the matt
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