Year: 1867

truly Semmes, do you not sometimes fee
little hit ashamed Of your crimes do
you rot tremble in tae knees, and have
serious misgivings occasionally about your
future Did you not, on the Fourth of
July, and the 22d of February, and did
you not on last Sunday night, pray to the
Lord to soften the punishment the radicals
would lnflct upon you? If you did not,
then you are not human, every drop Of
blood in your veins has turned to rebel
distilled corn, you are given over to rep
robacy, and rebel hardness of heart,
which is just where rope reconstruction
comes in.


Two years ago you were never going to
surrender You would not live under
such government You would die in
the last ditch, etc. Yet here you are
to-day, not only sneaking back to live un-
der the flag you could not pull down, but
really assuming to be a public teachery
and advise how the government SO hate,
full shall be administered. Was there
ever such impudence since the DEVIL re-
belled in heaven2 No, Semmes, you can
not excuse, palliate, or make treason re-
specialize; your lot is infamy; accept it
quietly; retire from public life; you
have no interest in the government it's
affairs concern the loyal only; eat your
bread in silence, and [, for one, will new
er disturb you. But if you parade your
obnoxious treason, and be noisy, then by
the eternal | will help to end such eff
| frontery by putting a rope around your
rebel neck, and hanging you until you
are dead.


You say you do not know me. That
is matter of regret to you if not to me.
The last words Of James Buchanan, de-
| ceased, expressed remorse that he 'did
not know me early" Booth whispered to
Corbett, "tell him am not we'll )" and
| Wirz, dying, congratulated himself that
he had once bathed me. AS you are the
next meanest man alive, [ advise you to
make my acquaintance with as little de-
lay as possible, 50 you will have nothing
to regret when you come to be swung off.


I thought [ had fought my last battle
with rebels, but [ feel l really ought to
do something for you. The articles Of
war and proper selfrespect forbid me
meeting you and settling our affairs in
the usual way, but freely accord to you
the privilege | have ever given mad dogs
and blackguards in attacking me on the
streets. [ am a very large, fat man, with
an easy conscience, a good-looking face,
and will make an excellent mark for your
Derringer, while suppose you are a lean,
cadavarous, Gas all traitors should be,)
bony, mean, sneaking- looking cuss. No
doubt l have seen many such faces as
your in the rogue's gallery; still | might
not recognize you at first sight, and will
be obliged if you will send me photo
graph. am often in Memphis, or you
can come here, and I will endeayor to
find for you, under the curbstones, that
'-last ditch" which you have been unable
to find anywhere else.


Army officers are quiet men who at
tend to their own business, and arc not
afraid Of anybody. They will not per-
NIT conquered rebel editors to abuse them
with impunlty for their loyal opinions,
and whatever may be your experience
with me, my advice to you is, hereafter
to remember who and what you are-mind
your own affairs and let Union officers
alone. Yours truly, JAS. S. BRIsB1N.