The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman PotterAdams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
General
The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter
Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
Political fiction
I must inform the honest reader, that great value was set by the
Common Council upon the fact, that the major had transferred his
affections from the whig to the democratic party, which could not
fail to shed a lasting luster upon its principles. Two honest
Hibernian members of the very common board of very uncommon
councilmen, had, with that modesty so characteristic of them, paid
me the high compliment of saying, that I had been justly styled the
great northern political war horse. I could not suppress a blush
at seeing myself cut so strange a figure, inasmuch as the flourish
of speech was such as had never been thought of by Aristotle, and
would have paled even Henry Clay. Let no man, therefore, doubt the
truth of what I here say; for I am not given to writing satires,
preferring to wait until heaven shall send me some nobler mission.
Nor would I have the reader express surprise, that persons so humble
as the major and myself should be thus suddenly subjected to the
process of hero making so much in fashion with the forty thousand
idlers and politicians of New York, who have graciously taken upon
themselves the directing of all public affairs, seeing that good men
are so engaged in the getting of gold as to care not a whit if the
devil get all their liberties. And if the reader have read the
histories of Greece and Rome, wherein it is written that he only was
made a hero who had achieved some great undertaking, and thereby
conferred lasting honors upon his country, his surprise may be
increased at the strange elements of character necessary to a hero
at this day. But I humbly beg him to consider the circumstances of
these forty thousand idlers and other politicians, who, having no
employment for their fingers, let the devil direct their brains, and
have turned hero making into a commerce of so cheap a quality, that
no good christian can be got to engage in it. In fine, (and it is no
vulgar invention of my brain,) the virtues required of an hero at
this day, are that he have been a great marauder, who, having
invaded the country of a poor, down trodden people, driven them from
their quiet homes, plundered them of their property, ravished their
daughters, drenched their fields with the blood of the innocent, and
whitened the highways with the bones of his own dissolute but
deluded followers, and spread desolation over the land, had to leave
it a vanquished miscreant. And upon the principle, that if you give
power to the idle and reckless they will make heroes to suit their
kind and circumstances, he will then be received at the Battery with
a great waste of powder, and such other noisy demonstrations as
shall please the unruly. From thence he shall be conveyed in a
shabby carriage, drawn by four lean horses, escorted by six firemen
in red shirts, and preceded by two Dutch drummers with serious
faces, and long, light beards, and a dyspeptic negro fifer, through
sundry of our most crowded streets. And there shall follow him a
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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