Eugene Field, a Study in Heredity and Contradictions Volume II Part 15

The suspicion is still rife that when the Democratic party wakes up on Christmas morning it will find S.J. Tilden in its stocking.

See the Flower. It is sitting on its Barrel derisively Mocking the Eager hands that strive to Pluck it. Oh, beautiful but cruel Flower.

If the mild weather continues Secretary Chandler will be able to get the American Navy out of its winter quarters and on to roller skates by the first of April.

Mr. Charles A. Dana has appeared as the third witch in "Macbeth." He says Roosevelt cannot be Mayor, but may go to Congress, to the Senate, or be elected President.

It is believed that a horizontal reduction in the Democratic statesmen of the time would leave nothing of the Hon. William R. Morrison but a pair of spindle legs, three bunions, and seven corns.

Russia, always a menace to civilization, is prepared to aid China in her resistance against modern progress, and will not hesitate to fly to the succor of the unspeakable Turk when the opportune moment comes.

We do not entirely believe the story that El Mahdi is dead. On the contrary, we confidently expect that this enterprising false prophet will turn up in a reconstructed condition at Was.h.i.+ngton after the 4th of next March, howling for a post-office.

BLUE CUT, TENN., May 2, 1885.-The second section of the train bearing the Illinois legislature to New Orleans was stopped near this station by bandits last night. After relieving the bandits of their watches and money, the excursionists proceeded on their journey with increased enthusiasm.

Hamlin Garland has finally crawled out of the populist party and has reappeared in Chicago fiercer than ever for the predominance of realism in literature and art. He regrets to find that during his absence Franklin H. Head has relapsed into romanticism and that the verist's fences generally in these parts are in bad condition.

The national Carl Schurz committee will meet in New York on the 1st of April to fix a date and place for the national Carl Schurz convention. As Chicago will make no attempt to secure this convention, we do not mind telling St. Louis, Philadelphia and Cincinnati that the biggeet inducement which can be held out to the Carl Schurz party is a diet of oatmeal and skim milk and piano-rent free.

"You are looking tough, O Diogenes," quoth Socrates. "Now, by the dog, what have you been doing?" "I have been searching for an honest man in the Chicago City Council," replied the grim philosopher mournfully, "With what result?" inquired the other. "Well, you see," said Diogenes sarcastically, "my pockets are cleaned out and my lantern is gone! I praise Zeus that they left me my girdle!"

Major McKinley is being highly commended because he would not allow the Ohio delegation to betray John Sherman in the Republican convention. Other men from other States were perhaps just as loyal, but it is so seldom that an Ohio politician does the decent thing that when one honorable Ohio politician is found he excites quite as much surprise and admiration as a double-headed calf or any other natural curiosity would.

Oh, what a beautiful Hill. How it looms up in the Misty Horizon. See the Indians on the hill. They are Tammany braves. The Hill belongs to the Indians. Why are the Indians on the Hill? They are hunting for the flower which they Fondly hope Blooms on the Hill. Not this year-some other Year, but not this year. The Flower is Roosting high. It has resigned. Are the Indians resigned? They are not as Resigned as they Would be if they could Find the Flower. Alas that there should be More Sorrows than Flowers in this World.

The Hon. Thomas B. Reed, of Maine, is to be the leader of the Republican minority in Congress this winter. He is a smart, fat, brilliant, lazy man, with a Shakespearian head and face and clean-cut record. He is a great improvement on the Hon. J. Warren Keifer, of Ohio, who was the Republican leader (so-called) last winter. It would be hard to imagine a more imbecile leader than Keifer was, and it would be hard to find an abler leader than Reed will be, provided his natural physical indolence does not get the better of his splendid intellectual vigor.

Marcus A. Hanna has just been elected a delegate to the National Republican Convention in the Tenth Ohio district. He has also just been appointed to a government position by President Cleveland. The National Republican Convention ought to determine, immediately upon a.s.sembling, whether its platform and its nominations shall be dictated, even remotely, by a beneficiary of a Democratic administration. Hanna was in 1884 a loudmouthed Blaine follower. He has a happy faculty of always lighting on his feet-after the fas.h.i.+on of the singed cat.

President Cleveland-Rose, are you sure the window-screens are in repair?

Miss Cleveland-Quite sure.

President Cleveland-And are you using that flypaper according to directions?

Miss Cleveland-Yes.

President Cleveland-And you sprinkle the furniture with insect powder every day?

Miss Cleveland-Certainly; why do you ask? Are the mosquitoes troubling you?

President Cleveland-No, not the mosquitoes; but that Second District Congressman from Illinois seems to be just as thick as ever.

We've come from Indiany, five hundred miles or more, Supposin' we wuz goin' to git the nominas.h.i.+n sh.o.r.e; For Colonel New a.s.sured us (in that noospaper o' his) That we cud hev the airth, if we'd only tend to biz.

But here we've been slavin' more like hosees than like men To diskiver that the people do not hanker after Ben; It is for Jeemes G. Blaine an' not for Harrison they shout And the gobble-uns 'el git us Ef we Don't Watch Out!

"As for me, Daniel, I declined the tickets on the ground that, as President of this great nation, it was beneath my dignity to accept free pa.s.ses to a show." "You did quite right, Grover; I, too, declined the pa.s.ses in my capacity as a cabinet officer." "Good, good!" "But I accepted them in my capacity as editor of the Albany Argus. I owe it to my profession, Grover, not to surrender any of its rights to a strained sense of the dignity of an employment which is only temporary." "Ah, yes; I see." "There must be a dividing line between the Honorable Daniel Manning, cabinet minister, and plain Dan Manning, editor. I draw that line at free show-tickets."

Another instance of the liberality of the Hon. William H. English, of Indiana, has just come to light. It seems that that gentleman's venerable father, Deacon Elisha English, lives in Scott County, Ind., where he is a highly esteemed citizen and a bright light in the Methodist church. Not long ago the church people concluded they ought to have some improvements upon their modest temple of wors.h.i.+p, and consequently a subscription paper was circulating among the members of the congregation. Deacon English readily signified his willingness to do his share toward the proposed improvements, and he led off the subscription list with the line:

Elisha English $50.00

The congregation were so much pleased with this that they determined to apply to William H. English, the son, for a donation, and they believed that the liberality of the father would serve as an inducement to the son to display at least a moderate generosity. Accordingly the subscription list was forwarded to Indianapolis, and a prominent Methodist of that city took it around to Mr. English's office. The ex-vice-president hemmed and hawed and fumbled the paper over for quite a while, and finally, with a profound sigh, sat down at his desk and scribbled a few words on the subscription sheet. The triumphant smile on the visiting churchman's face relaxed into an expression of combined amazement and dismay when, upon regaining the paper, he learned that Mr. English had reconstructed the first line, so that it read:

Elisha English and Son $50.00

This column will serve two purposes-to ill.u.s.trate the truly American spirit of levity in which Eugene Field regarded politics and politicians, and also the extent and general character of his daily "wood sawing" for nearly twelve years. Although these selections cover a period of many years, they fairly represent the character of his political paragraphs on any one day except in the matter of subjects. These, of course, varied from day to day, from the President of the United States down to the Chicago bridge-tender. What delighted him most was some matter-of-fact announcement such as that which credited Herman H. Kohlsaat, then editor of the Chicago Inter-Ocean and a delegate to the Republican National Convention of 1892, with saying that he had no particular choice for Vice-President, but he favored the nomination of some colored Republican as a fitting recognition of the loyalty of the colored voters to the memory and party of Lincoln. The cunningly foreseen consequence was that what Mr. Kohlsaat gained in popularity with the colored brethren he lost in the estimation of those serious-minded souls who swallowed the hoax. Among the latter were many fire-eating editors in the South who seized upon Field's self-evident absurdity to denounce Mr. Kohlsaat as a violent demagogue who sought to curry favor with black Republicans at the expense of the South. It was also accepted as fairly representing the Northern disposition to flout and trample on the most sensitive sensibilities of the South. In the meantime Mr. Kohlsaat's office was besieged by the friends of colored aspirants to the vice-presidency, and Field chuckled in his chair and took every opportunity to add fuel to his confrere's embarra.s.sment and to the flame of Southern indignation. All the while he would meet Mr. Kohlsaat, who was one of his intimate friends, and express to him astonishment that he should feel any annoyance over such a palpable, harmless pleasantry.

Although there is one bit of verse in the foregoing sample column of Field's political paragraphs, it does scant justice to his most effective weapon. His political jingles were the delight or vexation of partisans as they happened to ridicule or scarify this side or that. He was on terms of personal friends.h.i.+p with General John A. Logan, whose admiration for General Grant he shared to the fullest degree. But this never restrained Field from taking all sorts of waggish liberties with General Logan's well-known fondness for mixed metaphors and other perversions of the Queen's English. The general, on one occasion, in a burst of eloquence, had spoken of "the day when the b.l.o.o.d.y hand of rebellion stalked through the land"; and for a year thereafter that "b.l.o.o.d.y hand" "stalked" through Field's column. He enjoyed attributing to General Logan all sorts of literary undertakings. Among others, was the writing of a play, to which reference is made in the following paragraph:

Senator John A. Logan's play, "The Spy," is in great demand, a number of theatrical speculators having entered the lists for it, the managers for the Madison Square and Union Square theatres being specially eager to get hold of it. A gentleman who is in the author's confidence a.s.sures us he has read the play, and can testify to its high dramatic merits. "It will have to be rewritten," said he, "for Logan has thrown it together with characteristic looseness; but it is full of lively dialogue and exciting situations. In the hands of a thorough playwright it would become a splendid melodrama." The play treats upon certain incidents of the late Civil War, and the romantic experiences of a certain Major Algernon Bellville, U.S.A., who is beloved by Maud Glynne, daughter of a Confederate general. The plot turns upon the young lady's unsuccessful effort to convey intelligence of a proposed sortie to her lover in the Union ranks. She is slain while masking in male attire by Reginald De Courcey, a rejected lover, who is serving as her father's aide-de-camp. This melancholy tragedy is enacted at a spot appointed by the lovers as a rendezvous. Major Bellville rushes in to find his fair idol a corpse. He is wild with grief. The melodrama concludes thus:

De Bell-Aha! Who done this deed?

Lieutenant Smythe-Yonder Reginald De Courcey done it, for I seen him when he done it.

Reginald-'Sdeath! 'Tis a lie upon my honor. I didn't do no such thing.

De Bell-Thou must die. (Draws his sword.) Prepare to meet thy Maker. (Stabs him.)

Reginald (falling)-I see angels. (Dies.)

De Bell-Now, leave me, good Smythe; I fain would rest. (Exit Smythe.) O Maud, Maud, my spotless pearl, what craven hand has s.n.a.t.c.hed thee from our midst? But I will follow thee. Aha, what have we here? A phial of poison secreted in the stump of this gnarled oak! I thank thee, auspicious heaven, for this sweet boon! (Drinks poison.) Farewell, my native land, I die for thee. (Falls and writhes.) Oh, horror! what if the poison be drugged-no, no-it must not be-I must die-O Maud-O flag-O my sweet country! I reel, I cannot see-my heart is bursting-Oh! (Dies.) (Enter troops.)

General Glynne-Aha! My daughter! And Bellville, too! Both dead! How sad-how mortifying. Convey them to yonder cemetery, and bury them side by side under the weeping-willow. They were separated in life-in death let them be united. (Slow curtain.)

During the preliminary campaign of 1884 Field had no end of fun with what he called the "Logan Lyrics," after this manner:

LOGAN'S LAMENT We never speak as we pa.s.s by- Me to Jim Blaine nor him to I; 'Twixt us there floats a cloud of gloom Since I have found he's got a boom.

We never speak as we pa.s.s by, We simply nod and drop our eye; Yet I can tell by his strange look The reason why he writ that book.

We never speak as we pa.s.s by; No more we're bound by friendly tie.

The cause of this is very plain- He's not for me; he's for Jim Blaine.

As a sequel to the preceding verse, the following touching reminiscence may be read with interest by those familiar with what befell in the fall of 1884:

BAR HARBOR: A REMINISCENCE Upon the sandy, rock-ribb'd sh.o.r.e One year ago sat you and I, And heard the sullen breakers roar, And saw the stately s.h.i.+ps go by; And wanton ocean breezes fanned Your cheeks into a ruddy glow, And I-I pressed your fevered hand- One year ago.

II The ocean rose, the mountains fell- And those fair castles we had reared Were blighted by the breath of h.e.l.l, And every prospect disappeared; Revenge incarnate overthrew And wrapped in eternal woe The mutual, pleasing hopes we knew One year ago!

III I sit to-night in sorrow, and I watch the stately s.h.i.+ps go by- The hand I hold is not your hand- Alas! 'tis but a ten-spot high!

This is the hardest deal of all- Oh! why should fate pursue me so, To mind me of that cruel fall- One year ago!

In the senatorial campaign at Springfield, in the winter of 1885, when General Logan's return to the Senate was threatened by a deadlock in the Legislature, in which the balance of power was held by three greenbackers, Field made ample amends for all his jibes and jeers over Logan's a.s.saults on his mother-tongue. His "Sharps and Flats" column was a daily fusilade, or, rather, feu de joie, upon or at the expense of the Democrats and three legislators, by whose a.s.sistance they hoped to defeat and humiliate Logan. Congressman Morrison, he of horizontal fame, was the caucus choice of the Democrats. But as the struggle was prolonged from day to day, it was thought that someone with a barrel, or "soap," as it had been termed by General Arthur in a preceding campaign, was needed to bring the Greenbackers into camp. In the emergency, Judge Lambert Tree, since then our Minister to Belgium, was drafted into the service, and for several days it looked as if the Democrats had struck the hot trail to General Logan's seat. The situation fired Field's Republican soul with righteous indignation, and his column fairly blazed with sizzling paragraphs. He seized upon Judge Tree's name and made it the target of his shafts of wit and satire. One day it was:

Here we have a tree. How Green the Tree is! Can you See the Lightning? Oh, how red and Vivid the Lightning is! Will the Lightning Strike the Tree? Children, that is a Conundrum; we answer conundrums in our Weekly Edition, but not in our daily.

The next day it was:

The Lightning did not strike the Green Tree. But the Springfield Politicians did. This is Why the Tree is Green.

And then there came what I regard as one of the most telling pieces of political satirical humor ever put into English verse, its literary merit alone justifying its preservation, Field himself considering it worth copying in the presentation volume of his verse written prior to 1887: