back. I spose you will see by the papers how we all like to got drowned yesterday going across a little bridge between the castle and the garden. It was a pesky narrow squeak for me and the President. He was riding over on a great fine hoss, and I was walking along by the side of him and trying to clear the way a little, for they crowded upon us so, there was no getting along, and hardly a chance to breathe. When we got under the arch we stopped a little bit for the crowd to clear away, when all at once I thought I heard something crack. Says I, Gineral you better go ahead, I'm afraid there's mischief bruing here. At that he give his hoss a lick and pushed through the crowd, but we had n't got more than a rod, before crash went the bridge behind us, all down in a heap, and two tollhouses on top of it and as many as a hundred folks splashed into the water, all mixed up together one top of 'tother. The President looked over his shoulder, and seeing I was safe behind him, called out for Mr Van Buren, and asked me to run and see if he was hurt. I told him he had forgot himself, for Mr Van Buren was n't in the company; but Mr Woodbury and Mr Cass were in for it, for I could see them floundering about in the water now. Run, Major, said the President, run and give them a lift. Take Mr Woodbury first, you know I can't spare him at any rate. So there was a parcel of us took hold and went to hauling of 'em out of the water like so many drownded rats. But we got 'em all out alive, except a few young things they called dandies; they looked so after they got wet all over that we could n't make out whether they were alive or dead. So we laid 'em up to dry and left 'em; and I went on to help the President review the troops on the battery, as they call it; and a grand place it is tu. I've seen more fine shows here, it seems to me, than ever I see before in my life. Such a sight of folks, and fine ladies, and fine houses, and vessels, and steam boats, and flags a flying, and cannons firing, and fire works a whisking about, I never see the beat of it. I did n't think there was so much fun in this world before, for all I've been about so much at Madawaska and among the nullifiers and all round. But I cant tell you much about it till we get there, for I cant find any time to write. I've only catched a few minutes this evening while the President is gone into Mr Niblo's garden. One of the master sights that I've seen yet was that balloon that went up this afternoon, carrying a man with it. Poor fellow, I dont much think he 'll ever get back again, for he looked to me the last I see of him as though he would land in England, or the moon, or some other country. All these sights keep us back a little longer than we expected. I dont think now we shall be in Portland before the 28th or 29th of this month. So I thought I'd jest write you a line that you might be down there about that time. In haste your loving neffu, MAJOR JACK DOWNING. LETTER LXI. In which Major Downing describes the visit of the Presi dent at Boston, and also complains of the rascally counterfeiters that write letters in his name for the newspapers. [Note by the Editor. It will be recollected that the President while in Boston, was for a few days seriously ill.] Boston, Tuesday, June 25, 1833. To the Editor of the Portland Courier. -I'm keeping house with MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, the President to-day, and bein he 's getting considerable T 1 better, I thought I'd catch a chance when he was taking And if the President want tougher than a catamount, he'd kick the bucket before he'd been round to see one half the notions there is in Boston. Poor man, he has a hard time of it; you've no idea how much he has to go through. Its worse than being dragged through forty knot holes. To be bamboozled about from four o'clock in the morning till midnight, rain or shine, jammed into one great house to eat a breakfast, and into another great house to eat a dinner, and into another to eat supper, and into two or three others between meals, to eat cooliations, and to have to go out and review three or four rigiments of troops, and then to be jammed into Funnel Hall two hours, and shake hands with three or four thousand folks, and then to go into the State House and stand there two or three hours and see all Boston streaming through it like a river through a sawmill, and then to ride about the city awhile in a fine painted covered waggon with four or five horses to draw it, and then ride awhile in one without any cover to it, finney-fined off to the top notch, and then get on to the horses and ride awhile a horseback, and then run into a great picture room and see more fine pictures than you could shake a stick at in a week, and then go into some grand gentleman's house, and shake hands a half an hour with a flock of ladies, and then after supper go and have a little still kind of a hubbub all alone with three or four hundred particular friends, and talk an hour or two, and take another cooliation, and then go home, and about midnight get ready to go to bed, and up again at four o'clock the next morning and at it.—If this aint enough to tucker a feller out I dont know what is. The President wouldn't have stood it till this time if he hadn't sent me and Mr Van Buren and the rest of us to some of the parties, while he staid to home to rest. The President's got so much better I think we shall be able to start for Salem to-morrow, for we must go through with it now we've begun, as hard work as 'tis. I think we shall get to Portland about the 4th of July; SO if you get your guns and things all ready you can kill two birds with one stone. I hope you'll be pretty careful there how you point your guns. They pointed 'em so careless at New York that one of the wads come within six inches of making daylight shine through the President. Now I think ont, there is the most rascally set of fellers skulking about somewhere in this part of the country that ever I heard of, and I wish you would blow 'em up. They are worse than the pick-pockets. I mean them are fellers that's got to writing letters and putting my name to 'em, and sending of 'em to the printers. And I heard there was one sassy feller last Saturday down to Newburyport that got on to a horse, and rid about town calling himself Major Jack Downing, and all the soldiers and the folks marched up and shook hands with him, and thought it was me. Now, my dear old friend, isn't this too bad? What would you do if you was in my case? I say again they are worse than the pick-pockets. Isn't it Mr Shakespeare that says something about 'he that steals my munny-pus steals trash, but he that steals my name ought to have his head broke?' I wish you would find that story and print it. There, the President's jest waked up, so I must subscribe myself, in haste, Your friend, MAJOR JACK DOWNING. LETTER LXII. In which the President and the rest of 'em turn a short Corner at Concord and set their faces towards Washington. CONCORD, Nu Hamsheer, June 30, 1833. To the Editor of the Portland Courier. MY DEAR OLD Friend, The jig is all up about our going to Portland and Downingville. I've battled the watch with the President this two days about it, and told him he must go there if he had the breath of life in him ; and he kept telling me he certainly would if horses could carry him there. But the President is n't very well, and that aint the worst of it; there 's been a little difficulty bruin among us, and the President's got so riled about it, that he's finally concluded to start on his way back to-morrow. I cant help it; but I feel bad enough about it. If I wasn't a military man I could cry a barrel of tears. I dont know how they will stan it in Downingville when they come to get the news. I'm afraid there will be a master uproar there, for you know they are all fullblooded democrats. But the stage is jest agoing to start, and I've only time to write you this line, in haste from your friend, MAJOR JACK DOWNING. 18 |