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TURNWOLD, GA., OCTOBER G, 1862.
Tar and Feathers Revenged.
“ Jupt before the breaking out of the
Revolution, a man by the name of Ditson,
belonging to Billerica, Mass, was tarred
and feathered in Boston, by the British sol
diers, under the orders of Lieutenant Col
onel Nesbit. The British officers wished
to prevent the Americans from purchasing
guns, and in order to furnish an opportuni
ty to inflict punishment, and to raii^e occa
sion for a serious quarrel, a soldier was or
dered to offer the countryman an old rusty
musket. Ditson caught at the bait, and
purchased the gun for three dollars. lie
was thereupon seized, and after being con
fined in the guard house all night, was
stript entirely naked, and covered with tar
and feathers, and in that condition paraded
through the streets of Boston. The Yan
kees, however, began to collect in great
numbers, and the military fearing for their
own safety, dismissed the man and retreat
ed to their barracks.
Thus far the incident is related by a con
temporary historian. What follows, we
have from the lips of an old continental
himself. Many a time and oft have we
heard him relate the story, with clenched
hands and eyes flashing fire, and always
with this ending— 4 But I had my revenge.’
When he was dismissed by the British,
he called for his gun, which, during the
operation oftamng and feathering had been
taken from him. * Take the gun and be
damned !’ said the officer who had com
manded the tarring and feathering party :
‘you’ll be the last Yankee, I'll be sworn,
who will come to purchase a musket.’
‘But not the last that will use one,’said
Ditson, as he grasped the weapon : 4 and
mark me, sir, I’ll haVe my revenge!’
‘ The cock is clear game,’ said the offi
cer, turning to his companions with a "laugh,
‘ but he had better ruffle his feathers on his
own dunghill !’
Ditson by the aid of soap and warm wa
ter, got rid of his feathery coat, but the idea
of the insult clung to his mind, burning
deeper and deeper like the shirt of Nessus.
He longed for an opportunity of revenge.
It was the theme of his thought, waking
and sleeping. He dreamed of it by night—
he pondered on the means of accomplishing
it by day. But how was hetoaccomplishit?
An opportunity was not long wanting
for that purpose. His country flew to
arms to redress its public grievances, and
he to revenge his private ones. As soon
as he heard that the British had marched
to Concord, he seized his rusty musket, and
ran to the scene of action.
THE COUNTRYMAN.
‘ What are you going to do?’ asked his
neighbors, as they saw him unyoking his
team in the midst of the field, and at an
unseasonable hour of the day.
* I’m going to pay the redcoats for the
tar and feathers,’ said Ditson setting his
teeth firmly together : 4 Come on and
you shall see sport.’
4 But you’re not going to take that old
rusty piece?’ said one.
4 But I am though,’ said Ditson : 4 I
shall take none the worse sight for its be
ing rusty.’
He hastened to the field to fight, and his
neighbors went with him. Having selec
ted the boughs of a thick tree by the way-
side, whither the British were on their re
treat, he climbed into them, and there, se
curely ensconced, and taking deliberate
aim, every shot from the old rusty musket
told one.
4 I aimed’ said Ditson, 4 particularly at
the officers, and the first man I dropped
was the commander of the tar kettle. That
did me more good than the best dinner I
ever ate in my life.’
‘There!’ I could not help exclaiming:
4 I told you I’d have my revenge !’— 4 Half
a dozen shots were fired into the tree, but
they were fired at random, for I was well
secured with boughs, and only two bullets
went through my hat. My bosom lighten
ed as soon as the officer fell. The tar
seemed, as it weie, to loosen fioin my skin,
and I felt fifty per cent better. But still I
had not completed my revenge. The tar
had not. yet all dropped off. It was there
still, in imagination, and the feathers clung
to it. The British would make a fighting-
cock of me, and I was determined they
should feel the full length of my spurs.’ .
Ditson was again present at the battle of
Bunker Hill, where he had an opportunity
of using the old musket to still greater ad
vantage than at the battle of Lexington.
Reseiving his fire agreeably to the mode
enjoined by Putnam, until he could see the
enemy^ eyes, he brought down his man at
every shot : and several more, \\ hose coun
tenances he recollected, as having belonged
to those engaged in the tarring and feath
ering scrape, fell victims to the strength of
his memory, the accuracy of his aim, and
the sure fire of his rusty old piece. He was
the last to leave the ditch, and when his
powder and ball were expended, he fought
like a tiger with the butt of his musket: and
as he dashed it into the skull of two or
three of the 4 reglars’ in quick succession,
he exclaimed, 4 That’s to pay for the tar
and feathers !’ He suffered much in conse
quence, 4 but,’ as he used to exclaim in af
ter years, 4 I did’nt mind that, for I had
my revenge !’
He recovered from his wounds,and fought
through the war : .and although naturally
brave and attached to his country, liis cour
age and his patriotism were not a little
stimulated by the remembrance of the tar
and feathers. No single arm sent a great
er number to their final account. He at
length saw her free. Her injuries were
redressed, and so were his own.
He lived to be an old man. Poverty
visited his hut. Every thing that could be
spared was sold, except the old musket.
He would shoulder that,
‘ And show how fields were won
Then as his eye gleamed at the recollec
tion of the never-to-be-foigotton insult, he
would exclaim, 4 It was all owing to the
tar and feathers : hut 1 had my revenge /”
Epigram.
“While Butler plays his silly pranks,
And closes up New Orleans banks,
OurStonewall Jackson, with more cunning,
Keeps Yankee Banks forever running.”
“A man of sense may love like a mad
man, but never like a fool.”
Bad Luck.
Brother Medlock of the Central Geor
gian, complains that he does not get his
Daily Macon Telegraph more than half
the time. I would have been down with
the same complaint, for some time past, bat
for the fact that I ajn satisfied the failure
must be in the TeTegiaph office : and as
brother Clisby is kind enough to exchange
with me at all, I feel that I have no right to
complain. I am much obliged to him for his
paper, even occasionally, as it is a favorite
paper.with me, but would be still more
obliged if I could get it regularly.—Our
P. M. assures me that the Telegraph does
not come regularlj, and I have several
times stood by him as he called the papers,
and have seen that mine did not come.
Letter from J. B. R.
Mr. Countryman :—I date this letter
at Staunton, Va., Sept. 24th, 1862.—To re
count to you all of interest which I have
seen since writing last, would be to make
a letter too voluminous : consequently, I
must pass over, unnoticed, many things
which took place on our trip to Maryland,
to give room for that which is of more ims
portauce, and more worthy of considera
tion on the part of your readers.
We all had quite a lively time, crossing
the Potomac, marching to Frederick, &c.,
living almost entirely on green corn, with
regular rations of beef.—The entire army