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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events, Diary from December 17, 1860 - April 30, 1864 (ed. Frank Moore), 1861, December (search)
nche says: We unhesitatingly say that the cause of justice and the cause of humanity itself, demands that the black flag shall be unfurled on every field — that extermination and death shall be proclaimed against the hellish miscreants who persist in polluting our soil with their crimes. We will stop the effusion of blood, we will arrest the horrors of war, by terrific slaughter of the foe, by examples of overwhelming and unsparing vengeance. When Oliver Cromwell massacred the garrison of Drogheda, suffering not a man to escape, he justified it on the ground that his object was to bring the war to a close — to stop the effusion of blood — and that it was, therefore, a merciful act on his part. The South can afford no longer to trifle — she must strike the most fearful blows — the war-cry of extermination must be raised. A bill was presented in the Tennessee Legislature, requesting the Judges of the Supreme and Circuit Courts, Chancellors, and Justices of the Peace, not to ho
Bliss Perry, The American spirit in lierature: a chronicle of great interpreters, Chapter 2: the first colonial literature (search)
wever, these naked slaves of the devil were not so simple as some have supposed. He yearned and labored over their souls, as did John Eliot and Roger Williams and Daniel Gookin of New England. In the Pequot War of 1637 the grim settlers resolved to be rid of that tribe once for all, and the narratives of Captain Edward Johnson and Captain John Mason, who led in the storming and slaughter at the Indians' Mystic Fort, are as piously relentless as anything in the Old Testament. Cromwell at Drogheda, not long after, had soldiers no more merciless than these exterminating Puritans, who wished to plough their fields henceforth in peace. A generation later the storm broke again in King Philip's War. Its tales of massacre, captivity, and single-handed fighting linger in the American imagination still. Typical pamphlets are Mary Rowlandson's thrilling tale of the Lancaster massacre and her subsequent captivity, and the loud-voiced Captain Church's unvarnished description of King Philip's
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 36. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 1.6 (search)
e. It was in a holocaust of blood that the Cross was carried by Spain into the halls of the Montezumas and they christianized and became a part of this ancient people. In English history the Wars of the Roses culminated in the union of the two factions, the blood shed knitting them together in allegiance to a sovereign in common. It was through blood that Cromwell ascended to the Lord Protectorship and through regicide that his power was secured. It was at Marston Moor, and at Nasby, at Drogheda and Dunbar that the blood of England, Ireland, and Scotland commingled, cementing the three people in the indissoluble bond that constitutes the Kingdom of Great Britain. The process of blood assimilation has produced the dominant race—the Anglo-Saxon. Just as the blood of the martyr is the seed of the Church, the blood of the patriot is the germ of nationality—it is for the healing of the nations. Are the thoughts I have uttered, the sentiments expressed, the suggestions offered, the
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 5. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Tales and Sketches (search)
alls, until at length the broad, swift river stretched before them, its white spray flashing in the sun. What cared these sturdy old Puritans for the wild beauty of the landscape thus revealed before them? I think I see them standing there in the golden light of a closing October day, with their sombre brown doublets and slouched hats, and their heavy matchlocks, —such men as Ireton fronted death with on the battle-field of Naseby, or those who stalked with Cromwell over the broken wall of Drogheda, smiting, in the name of the Lord, old and young, both maid, and little children. Methinks I see the sunset light flooding the river valley, the western hills stretching to the horizon, overhung with trees gorgeous and glowing with the tints of autumn,—a mighty flower-garden, blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, Frost; the rushing river, with its graceful water-curves and white foam; and a steady murmur, low, deep voices of water, the softest, sweetest sound of Nature, blends with
The Daily Dispatch: December 31, 1860., [Electronic resource], "a Black Man." (search)
"a Black Man." --The Argus, published in the city of Drogheda, Ireland, tells its readers that the election by the Northern States of America of a black man as President has at length brought about a state of feeling between the Southern and Northern States which for a long time has been feared, and which threatens to end in the disruption of the American Union. Since the Confederation was formed, no Presidential election has excited so much party feeling as has the election of Abraham Lincoln, a black gentleman, hitherto unknown out of the State in which he lived--or at least unknown as a public man in Europe.
The Daily Dispatch: February 20, 1865., [Electronic resource], Five hundred dollars reward. (search)
bought up by a sum greater than he hoped to gain. A great rebellion in the reign of Charles First was followed by another scene of blood, cruelty and confiscation. Then Cromwell came in; but a change of rulers made no change in the fate of Ireland; still less when, in the place of Charles, came the head of that peculiar people whose descendants now occupy New England and direct the counsels of the United States. Cromwell began his career in Ireland by promising quarter to the garrison of Drogheda, and then massacring them for five days.--Two millions and a half of acres were confiscated. Whole towns were put up in lots. The Catholics were banished from three-fourths of the kingdom. One of the Puritans of that day complains "that the people do not transport readily"; but adds, "it is, doubtless, a work in which the Lord will appear."--Ten thousand Irish were sent to recruit the Spanish army. "Nothing," says an English and Protestant author, "can show more strongly the light