Valley Virginian

The despondency and doubt that now oppress our people are, naturally, the consequence of "hope deferred which maketh the heart sick." But then there can be too much even of a good thing and certainly we have had enough of this. The schemes of our enemies and their oppressions are devilish, but a brave, cheerful spirit, a determination to work out of our troubles, and conquer in the end, will soon change the face of affairs. It is actually sinful for men, with brains to conceive and hands to execute, to be grumbling and growling over what can not be helped. It is a duty to look upon the bright side; to meet the situation and play our part in the great future, as worthy sons of a glorious ancestry.

Look for the moment at the past of this people, and prepare to meet the future as becomes the descendants of such a race. What race so grand in the conception of its ideas; so bold and daring in executing them? Witness Sir Walter Raleigh crossing the Atlantic in a frail bark, (a feat that puts to shame the late boasted Yacht match of the upstart Bennett and other yankees.) Witness Spottswood and his hardy 'Knights of the Golden Horse Shoe,' penetrating the vast wilderness of West Augusta; witness Washington, the boy engineer, making his way, foot sore and weary, over trackless mountains, and see the grand climax of his career at Yorktown; pointing a world to Freedom! Witness Virginia giving away vast territories, for the common good, with as little thought of self, as the "Lord of the Manor," gives his tenants a holiday. Remember the self-sacrificing devotion of Virginia to a Union that now seeks to crush her, in her hour of desolation. Remember the wonderful amount of talent this one State has produced and developed. Think of the late war for Justice and Right, the heroism and endurance of our soldiers; the patriotic devotion of our women. Look back; raise yourselves if you can, to the grand stand-point of the intellectual strength and manhood of the Fathers of the Republic. Dwell proudly on what has been accomplished. Think of how little this race has done for itself--how much for others. Then come down to the stern facts of the present, and prepare to play your parts like men, in the grand future still in store for us.

That age has passed away, but we must retain its noble, generous spirit. Our peculiar institutions, our ancient forms of law and every sacred right are subject to the will of a conqueror. There is no dishonor on the proud name handed down to us, by an ancestry that gave Freedom and a name to the powers which now control the Government of the United States. We fought a good fight, but an over-ruling Providence decreed we should be oppressed for a time. Still there is a way out of our troubles, it is to work; to use every means the enemies of the country have given us to defeat them. Look the future squarely in the face. This is a consolidated Government now, materialism reigns supreme; new ideas, new forms of government take the place of the old, and the world moves with railroad speed and calls it "progress." We must move and play our parts well in this new game of life, or we are surely lost. Be up and doing, and our future no man can conceive or venture to predict!

It would be well for our people to ponder over the following remarkable admissions of the N. Y. Times, the leading Republican paper North. It is rather rough but still it is true. The Times says:

"Everything done by Congress to suppress the rebellion, says our correspondent, is found in the Constitution, and more would have been found if necessary. Unquestionably! But this is only a roundabout way of saying that the will of Congress became the supreme law of the land, and the provisions and prohibitions of the Constitution vanished in its presence. Congress did whatever it deemed necessary to be done--and it continues to do so down to the present hour. The reconstruction bill of the last session was, in nearly every one of its provisions, a clear and flagrant violation of the Constitution as intended by its framers, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, as maintained by every department of the Government hitherto, and as expressed in its clear and explicit language. Yet that bill is the law of the land, and as such will be enforced,--because it embodies the will of the nation, which has become a 'higher law' than the Constitution, and as such will control, not only its construction, but its application to the practical government of the country.

"We may just as well look this matter in the face. It is quite useless to ignore the plain and palpable fact that the rebellion and the war have revolutionized our Government. We are not now living under the Constitution of 1799, but under an unwritten Constitution which represents the national will as embodied in the action of Congress. The limitations of the old Constitution have ceased to have binding force. Congress exercises power never conferred upon it, and denies to States rights expressly reserved to them by the Constitution. And it does so with perfect impunity because there is no authority to overrule or reverse its action. The President is powerless, because two-thirds of Congress is against him. The Supreme Court is powerless, because the case cannot come up for its action, and even if it should, the Court has no means of enforcing its decrees. The people are without remedy, because ten States are not allowed any voice in the matter, and the remainder sustain the usurped authority. We are living under a de facto government, a government resting on force and on the will of the people who wield it--but an actual government nevertheless."

For the "Valley Virginian."

Lines written on the death of Major Pettigrew, of Georgia, who was wounded and taken prisoner at the battle of Fredericksburg, December, 1862, and carried to Washington, D. C., where he died, and was buried, January 7, 1863, with Masonic honors.

Speak low, the heroes' breath is faint,
His conflict's almost o'er;
A few more hours with much restraint,
A few more sighs without complaint,
And he will be no more.

This form now bowed and writhed in pain,
Once in the battle stood;
And met and gave the steady aim,
Saw comrades die and feel the pain,
Amid the leaden flood.

The cannon's roar, the bugle's blast,
The battle's fierce display;
The death-shots falling thick and fast,
The bleeding wounded hurried past,
From break to close of day.

With order stern, "fixed bayonets; charge!
That battery take away!"
The fierce repulse, and counter charge,
"The enemy's forces are too large,"
Ne'er filled him with dismay.

But make the charge, this fight the last,
He here on earth can make;
And death's cold sweat is coming fast,
And faces strange are moving past,
Will this his courage shake?

Ah, no, e'en now 'though human aid
Is useless, and his soul
Must stand before the God who made
It for His glory, undismayed
He whispers, "Christ's my whole."

His head is raised, his eyes grow bright,
A voice he seems to hear;
And soon the blissful heavenly light
Dispels the shades, the gloom of night,
"Come! Soldier, do not fear."

His voice is hushed, that form is still,
And now lies cold in death;
Ne'er more will fight 'gainst wrong and ill,
The life an enemy must kill,
Has conquered with expiring breath.

A****
Washington, D. C., Oct. 20, 1866.