Ergo agite, et lætum cuncti celebremus honorem.--_Virgil_.
Risum teneatis amici?--_Horace_.
I do not know that the celebration of a Fourth of July in a country
village has ever been thought worthy of appearing in print; nor do I
know that a tale, founded on such a celebration, has ever been written;
and I doubt whether the fancy of any of our geniuses has ever pictured
such a subject, either with the pen or pencil. Many of your readers
will perhaps be amazed at the thought of such a subject for a tale; but
permit me to ask, why not a tale of the Fourth of July as well as any
other? Is it because the hearts of a free people, rejoicing on the
anniversary of the day which gave them liberty, throb in harmony, and
therefore can afford neither novelty nor variety? Granted. But are
there not various modes of manifesting, more or less appropriately, the
inward emotions of our hearts? Are not our ideas dissimilar as to the
manner of exhibiting our feelings, according to our various means,
situations and vocations in life--high or low--in cities, towns and
country? Then wherefore not? We have read of tales of wo, and tales of
bliss, and tales of neither; and, this being the case, I am imboldened
to this undertaking, leaving to the better judgment of the reader to
assign it to whichever class it properly belongs.
* * * * *
At the foot of a slope, and on the right of a stream compressed between
two abrupt and craggy hills, covered with oaks and pines, stands a
small village, remarkable only for the rude and romantic scenery which
surrounds it. Access to it from the left side of the stream can only be
gained by a rocky, rugged and declivous road, the greater part of which
seems to have been either blasted or hewed out of the side of a hill,
around which it winds at a considerable height above the water--and, at
its termination is a neat frame bridge, which when crossed admits you
into the village. This stream bounds a conterminous portion of two
counties bordering upon the Potomac, into which it empties itself at
about five miles below the village, where the influx and reflux of the
tides are felt. Although there is considerable depth of water at the
village sufficient to float vessels of a large size, yet the clayey
alluvion brought down by the stream, and reacted upon by the river at
their junction, becomes a deposite which forms a kind of bar, over
which none but small crafts can pass. The number of inhabitants may be
estimated at from two to three hundred, the greater part of whom are
attached to a cotton factory but recently erected, and the remainder,
with the exception of a few families of consideration, are more or less
connected with the country and merchant mills, established many years
since, from which the village has its origin and perhaps its name.
The beating of a drum, and the shrill and false tones of a fife, at
dawn of day, betokened to the villagers who still reposed upon their
pillows, that the glorious birthday of independence was likely not to
be passed unobserved, as hitherto it had been. This novel, and, in
effect, startling ushering of the day, soon brought them upon their
feet, and ere the sun had peered over the eastern, or crested the brows
of the western, mounts, the streets, such as they are, had become quite
enlivened. Most of the villagers had never heard the sounds of martial
music, and the greater number of those who had, were indebted to the
troops that had passed through the village during the late war. Those
who had never seen nor heard the sounds of a drum and fife, disclosed
their amazement by their gazing eyes and mouths agape. To a looker on,
the performers could not but be remarkable. A European, tall, erect,
lank, and already tippled, thumped away upon a drum, the vellum of the
nether end of which was rent,--followed by a stout, awry necked,
crumped backed and limping African, as _fifer_--a contrast at once
striking and ludicrous, hobbled along, most earnestly occupied with
their _reveille_, heedless of the gaze of the wonderstruck
multitude--the din of their music echoing and reverberating from the
surrounding hills. The _drummer_ had been such in the United States
Marines, and had but recently quitted the service--and though not
sober, his performance was far from being bad. The _fifer_ had served
in that capacity during the revolutionary war. His finger, stiff from
long disuse of the instrument, which he had preserved with religious
care since that epoch, did not allow him to give but an imperfect
specimen of his store of marches and quicksteps in vogue at that time,
and his recollection of them was scarcely better; the tunes of the
present times he knew nothing about. The drum used upon this occasion
had been _put hors de combat_ during the late war, as the troops passed
through the village. This, together with the hallowed fife and veteran
_fifer_, in connection with the day, did not fail to give rise to
associations eminently calculated to excite enthusiasm.
It appears that the celebration of the day had originated with, and was
suggested by, an honest son and follower of St. Crispin, (who had lived
in a city and had acquired some knowledge of _l'art militaire_,) whose
ambition to command a corps had led him to the most indefatigable
exertion to inspire the villagers with the spirit of _amor patriæ_, and
success having crowned his exertion, application had been made for
commissions as well as for arms, in order to organize themselves in
time for a parade on the approaching festival. In this however they
were disappointed; for they had obtained neither when the day arrived,
and having determined to celebrate it, in spite of their disappointment
they would.
This resolution soon circulated through the adjacent country called the
_forest_--its inhabitants _foresters_, who, anxious to witness the
parade--"_the spree_," as they termed it, came flocking into the
village on foot and horseback, singly and doubly, et cetera, by every
byroad and pathway which led to and terminated there. By meridian the
gathering was so great that the oldest inhabitants declared that such
an influx was not within their recollection. As regards the character
of the _foresters_, men and women, they are an honest, hardy,
industrious and independent people, and on Sundays, high-days and
holydays, cut a very respectable figure in the way of apparel and
ornaments--and for this occasion particularly, no pains had been spared
to make an _eclat_.
In consequence of the disappointment alluded to, every firearm that
could be found was put under requisition, and the entire forenoon was
consumed in collecting and preparing them for use, during which the
music to arms continued without intermission. It was in this interval
that the buzzing of an expected oration was heard, which swelled into a
report, and heightened not a little the pre-existing enthusiasm.
Discharges of guns repeated at irregular intervals on the skirts of the
village, was an indication that the parade was about to commence, and
at a little after twelve o'clock the soldiery made their appearance.
They wore no uniform, but were clad in their best "Sunday go to
meetings;" and in the ranks were many of the foresters who had joined
them--
"The rustic honors of the scythe and share"
being given up for the time, for the warlike implements then to be
used.
Their arms were of divers descriptions; double barrelled guns, deer
guns, ducking guns, and a blunderbuss, with powderflasks and horns
swung round their shoulders,--and, volunteers in number exceeding arms,
poles were substituted. A cutlass distinguished the captain; a
horsewhip the lieutenant; a cane the second lieutenant. These three,
together with the soldierly appearance of some, the rigidity of others,
the apparent _nonchalance_ of a few, and the deformity of several,
presented a _tout ensemble_ the most grotesque and diverting.
In the midst of this band was a small man, the stiffness of whose
carriage and the peculiarity of whose countenance attracted the
attention of the crowd. His eyes were small--appeared to be black and
twinkling, and were set into the deep recesses of sockets which
projected considerably, and surmounted by dark shaggy brows; his face
was contracted--his features small--and his forehead, though
retreating, was not sufficiently so to denote the entire absence of the
reflective faculty, according to phrenology. In his hand he bore a
scroll, and the dignity which his stiffness was meant to affect, was
reasonably enough imputed to the importance which he attached to the
part he was to act. The scroll was the Declaration of Independence,
which was to be read by him; and from the peculiarly reverential manner
with which it was held in his hand, he seemed to feel that it was an
instrument coeval with the birth of, and coexisting with, a free and
powerful nation, and demanded deference even from the very touch of his
hand. This man was not altogether devoid of talent, for he had
succeeded in earning for himself among the villagers a reputation of
high literary acquirements; and on hearing the report of an expected
oration, (suspicion fixed on him the origin of it,) had spontaneously
proposed to verify it. Of course the proposition was well received, and
dissipated at once any uncertainty. The spot at which it should be
delivered was soon decided upon and designated--well known--and but a
short distance out of the village. Thither the multitude repaired in
advance of the military, who were not to arrive there until all the
necessary arrangements for their reception had been made. This duty
devolved upon a self-constituted committee of arrangement, who
discharged it with all the zeal and ability which the briefness of the
notice would allow.
The locality was well chosen, and seemed to have been designed by
nature for the scene for which it was now appropriated. From the
village and around the foot of the hill, winds a path that leads by an
easy ascent to the summit of another hill, capped by a grove or cluster
of huge pines and oaks, which overshadow a surface clear of undergrowth
and interspersed with rocky prominences. These prominences, though
rough, answered admirably well the purpose of seats for the auditory,
and one of them being flat and overswelling the rest, was pitched upon
as a rostrum from which the orator should hold forth. On one side of
it, which might be called the rear, was planted a staff, to which was
tacked an old bunting American ensign or flag, pierced with holes,
received at the battle of Plattsburg. At the end of the staff hung a
red woollen cap, the symbol of liberty--its color emblematic of the
ardor of its spirit, as explained by the committee. At the foot of the
staff stood a cask of "_old corn_," for the refreshment and
entertainment of the _corps militaire_, in honor of the day and orator.
The village and country belles and beaux, attired in their gayest
possible manner, by way of regard, were suffered to have precedence in
the selection of places, and the former had possessed themselves of
those crags which might best suit them to the convenient hearing of the
oration. The assembled people were now impatiently awaiting the arrival
of the orator and escort, when they were at length descried wending
their way up hill, at the tune of _Molbrook_, sent forth to the air
from the fife in fragments--and having arrived, the orator was
conducted in form to the rostrum by the committee, which he mounted
with unfaltering steps.
The bustle and buzz incident to the choosing of convenient places amid
the rugged area having subsided, the _coup d'oeil_ presented was well
worthy the pencil and genius of a Hogarth; the pen can convey but a
faint idea. The gay females, elevated upon the asperated crags,
overtopping every other object, seemed to shed lustre and life upon
every thing around. Their attendants or beaux, resting in various
postures at their feet, or lolling against a tree hard by, proved that
the village and sylvan belles command the devotions of the rude sex no
less than those of courts and cities. The boys were perched upon every
oaken bough that overhung the spot that could bear their weight, and
the military and the rest were strewed about thickly and promiscuously
on the ground--sitting, squatting, kneeling; in fine, in every position
indescribable which the human frame is susceptible of when adapting
itself to some particular locality for its comfort.
The speaker being about to commence, many who had kept on their hats or
caps were bid to uncover; the greater number of whom did so cheerfully;
a few reluctantly; and several, more independent and less tractable,
kept on theirs. To have insisted upon this point of decorum might have
been attended with consequences to mar the rejoicing--so the point was
very wisely given up. Silence obtained, nothing was heard but the
rustling of the leaves, through which the breeze that prevailed passed
and refreshed all below. The orator bowed and addressed his attentive
auditory. His voice was clear and audible, and his words were carefully
noted by a chirographer, and are here inserted.
"Citizens of the village and farmers of the forest!--I will not offer
any excuse for the peramble that I will speak subsequent to the reading
of this _glorious_ document (holding up the scroll) of our ancestors.
The honor with which you have extinguished me this day, by making me
the reader on it, is duly depreciated.
"When you have heared the sentiments contained upon it, you will find
your hearts in trepidation at the conjointure at which your forefathers
dared to put their fists to it.
"While they was employed in this business, the immortal Washington,
called the _frater pater_, because he had a brotherly and fatherly love
for his countrymen, was commanding an army made up of such soldiers as
_you_ are. (Cheers.) It was with the like of you--such powerful men as
you--with such cowrageous souls as yours, that John Bull was fighting
with, running before and falling dead. (Great cheering.) The great
Thomas Jefferson and John Adams was driving the quill in peace and
comfort in Philadelphy, about this grand production, (stretching forth
and unfolding the scroll,) because they knowed, and all that was there
with them knowed too, that such soldiers as _you_, fighting for
liberty, barefoot, bareback and half starved, just as you are now when
you are all at home hard at work, was unresistible and unvincible. (The
deafening and reiterated cheers interrupted the speaker for a short
time.)
"Without you, what would have become to them, and this now free, brave
and happy nation? Shall I tell you? Why they should have all been
hanged or shot, and this nation would have been made up of slaves. They
worked with their heads, and you with your arms; to use a learned
expression, they physically and you bodily: and if it had not a been
for your arms and bodies, they could never--they would never have dared
to do nothing with their heads. You was the strong ramparts behind
which they retrenched themselves to save their necks. (Cheers.)
"Your beloved Washington could work with ither his hand or his arm, but
he showed his wisdom by choosing to work with his arm--that is, by
flourishing the sword instead of driving the pen--by putting himself at
your head in battle--facing the cannons of the enemy, and leading you
to _victory_ or _death!_ (Tremendous cheering.) To make this plainer
still to your understandings, which is very good,--suppose a man was to
abuse you and call you hard names? Why, you would up fist and knock him
down at once, if you could, in course; and if you did you would be safe
enough, and the matter would end. This was Washington's maxim, and he
acted up to it. Now-a-days, amongst them who drives the quill, when one
abuse another, they go to writing, and when they have lost a heap of
time to prove one another in the wrong--mind you, because they don't
want to come up to the sticking point, they are at last obliged to end
the difference by shooting at one another, or one murdering the other.
Now what does it all amount to in the end? All their writing did no
good, and they might as well have fight it out 'right off the reel' at
first--not with pistols and the like of that, but the arms that God
gave them--their fists, (clenching his fist.) In times of war men fight
with firearms and the like, because they can't come in contact man to
man. (Cheers.)
"It was your worthy fathers and the like on 'em, who atchieved the
freedom of your beloved country. Tom Jefferson and Jack Adams wrote
down what they fought about, that you might have it in black and
white--that you might never forget what your forefathers fought for,
and that you might stimulate their actions. This is all that writing is
fit or good for. Many of you don't know A from a bull's foot, but which
amongst you could'nt take up a gun and shoot the crows that would come
to your cornfields to destroy your crops. The British came here like
crows to destroy what was yours, and you shot them down like crows and
drove away the rest.(Cheers.)
"My brave friends! your present conditions is a proof of your being the
ascendants of those naked and half starved warriors. You have turned
out this day to prove to the world that you can depreciate the yearly
anniversary of this fourth of July. You are now enjoying the blessings
which they got for you by their lives, and at the peril of them who has
outlived the revolution. You are now resting at ease, and listening to
me, (for which I am complimented,) but they never rested at all--they
was always on the go; they went through thick and thin--sunshine and
rain--dust and mud--snow and ice--_fire and sword_--DEATH AND
DESTRUCTION, (tremendous cheering,) and made less of it than you do
now, for I can see that some of you is getting mighty restless. (A
shriek from a female at this instant spread consternation in the
assembly, which turned into a simultaneous burst of laughter as soon as
it was discovered she had fallen from a crag, being unable to endure
any longer the pain caused by its asperity.)
"I will not keep you any longer in distraint; but I cannot finish
without saying a few words to the lovely gathering of our fair
countrywomen, which has complemented me this day with their smiles.
"Your sex too, gentle hearers! had a helping hand in this glorious
revolution. Your foremothers was industriously employed at home for
your forefathers, while they was fighting for their country, their
wives and their offstrings. With such lovely being as I see now
gathered around me, this happy country need never fear of being in want
of warriors. (Cheers.) Sweet lasses! may heaven send down upon you such
partners as will make my prophecy come to pass."
The peal of applause which ensued and continued for some minutes, rung
through the woods and welkin, and resounded from hill to hill, until
lost in the distance, after which the orator proceeded to the reading
of the Declaration of Independence. When he had read that part in these
words--"To secure these rights governments are instituted among men,
deriving their just powers from the _consent_ of the _governed_. That
whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it
is the RIGHT of the PEOPLE to _alter_ or _abolish_ it, and to institute
new governments,"[1] &c. in which his feelings were deeply enlisted, he
concluded the clause by giving vent to them in the following fervid
comments: "_Behold_ Americans!" cried he, "_behold_ the _whole_ of
_your_ rights explained. Do you not _see_ the figure which EVERY _one_
of you cuts?! Out of you _the power_ comes, and _nothing_ can be done
_without_ you. Don't this prove what I said in my extompere address,
'_that their heads cannot work without you_?'" (Here a voice was heard
to cry, "By jingo, Jack, clap on your hat; ding it, do as I do!")
[Footnote 1: In the extract the words are in italics and small capitals
on which much stress was given by the reader.]
The reading ended, the assemblage broke up and dispersed, leaving the
military to honor the day and orator in the manner already intimated,
during which many national and sentimental toasts were drunk; after
which they returned into the village in the military order they had
left it for the purpose of parading.
Various evolutions were performed; among them occasionally a left
wheeling for a right--a countermarch for a right or left face--keeping
time with right or left foot indifferently. They carried arms either
upon the right or left--trailing, supporting, sloping, advancing--just
as it suited their own whim; in other words, _will_. In vain did their
commander command, threaten or entreat. A volunteer, bolder than the
rest, went so far as to ask the captain, "If he had forgot what they
had heard from the Declaration?" and hinting at his being commander so
long as they willed it. They felt that they were the sovereign people
and only citizen soldiers.
At the order "halt!" they came to a stand, and were drawn out in a
line, facing the stream, for the purpose of firing their _feu de
joie_--an apt simile, by the way, of the state of their minds after the
closing scene of the hill. The orders for execution were simply, "prime
and load--ready--fire!" which was executed with tolerable precision.
Three rounds being fired, they were ordered to "right face!" in order
to file off and resume their march; but few only obeying the order,
some confusion took place in the ranks. "_Right face!_" again
vociferated the captain, whose impatience for shaking off his brief
authority was very apparent. Still the contumaceous kept their
position, declaring that they would not "_budge_" until they had
received the word to fire a fourth round, for which they had already
loaded. A dispute arose between the officers and men--the former
asserting and endeavoring to enforce their authority--the latter
denying and obstinately determined not to move until they had received
the word to discharge their pieces, considering the reservation of
their fire until the order be given a sufficient evidence of their
subordination. The captain finally yielded, and crying out, "make
ready--fire!" the fourth round went off, and the men filed off without
further hesitation; some at a common time--some at a quickstep--some
skipping, and one hopping; the captain brandishing his cutlass over the
_drummer's_ pate for not "_treading in a straight line_"--the _fifer_
blowing off fractions of marches and quicksteps, and the lieutenants
endeavoring to keep order in the ranks. In this style they once more
marched out of the village, to partake for the last time of the
refreshment at the hill, and crown the celebration.
The sun was just reclining upon the western mount when they made their
third and final entry into the village, in a march, technically known
as the "rout march," thereby showing that the effect of the "old corn"
was predominating.
The omission of testifying their respect in a military manner to the
chief magistrate of the village during their first parade, had occurred
to them at the hill, and concluding that it had better be done late
than never, they had returned to the village, contrary to their
intention when they had left it, in the manner described, and drawing
up in front of the dwelling of that excellent man, they commenced and
kept up a tremendous firing, shouting and huzzaing until nightfall,
when all who were able dismissed themselves, (their officers having
abandoned them,) leaving many on the ground as it were _dead_--_pro
tempore_.
Thus terminated the village celebration of the anniversary of the day
out of which a great and virtuous nation was ushered into being.
However much our mirth may have been excited by the description given,
yet none will deny that the feeling which actuated them in their
celebration, was the identical feeling that dictates the observance of
the same day throughout the cities of the union--with this difference
only, that _this_ savours of the pomp and circumstances of wealth,
pride and refinement, while _that_ is perfectly in character with
nature,--true, simple and unsophisticated. I will conclude with a
quotation from Boileau.
"La simplicité plaît sans étude et sans art.
Tout charme en un enfant dont la langue sans faìd,
A peine du filet encor débarrassée,
Sait d'un air innocent bégayer sa pensée.
Le faux est toujours fade, ennuyeux, languissant:
Mais la nature est vraie, et d'abord on la sent;
C'est elle seule en tout qu'on admire et qu'on aime."