[for the Richmond Dispatch.]
Lynchburg, Va. May 13, 1861.
To the Editor of the Dispatch: I am no writer for the public press, and feel sensible of my inability to deal with the subject which I now propose, and which is engrossing my whole mind.
as it should do all the Irish adopted citizens of both sections of our distracted country, particularly the Catholic portion but will make an attempt to lay be fore your readers a few remarks of my own, bearing they will meet the eye of the Boston Pilot, in whose columns I see the name of its proprietor as Treasurer of a fund raised for the subjugation of the South.
For twenty-two years I have been a constant render of the Pilot. It was always a welcome visitor at my house, and was eagerly looked for by each member of my family so long as it taught ‘"Peace on earth, and good will to all men;"’ but I am sorry to say it has lost the charm to please its become a banker for cut throats and assassins
‘"On, consistency, thou art a jewell"’--Where are those Repealers in whom he was so much interested some time ago?
I hear they have all turned Union men. Yes, God help my migrated countrymen.
They would turn anything to have a brawl, and would fight for Know-Nothings, Black Republicans — for those men who despise them, their country and their creed.
Is it possible that their memory is so short that they have forgotten the Hiss Committee and the sticking of their schools, their Prusis ridden on ls, their convents burned, their military disbanded?
Have they forgotten all these things?
Let the Pilot look from his window, and let a sight of the ruins of the convent now mouldering into dust refresh his memory.
And it is at the gift of these people, who helped upon them every species of insult and injury, that they now come with arms to battle with the South.
They come to wage a war upon a people who were the first to crush the hydra-headed monster Know-Nothingism, and bid the tide of fanaticism roll back to that den from wilence springs the pestilential fumes of all political interests, It is the South that has always respected and protected the adopted citizen, and particularly this good old mother State, the Old Dominion, whose memory should ever live in the recollection of the Irish Catholic.
It was she, as I said before, who, when our dearest rights were threatened, stopped the bill which in its course was devastating the whole country.
And that gallant here (?) of the Sixty-Ninth Regiment of New York — he with the India further conscience — its who refused to do his duty when called upon to pay respect to the innocent Prince of Wales — he, I understand, has found it very easy to swallow an oath binding him to come to Virginia to cut our throats and steal the poor negro from his comfortable home.
Well, let them come, those minions of the North--we'll meet them in a way they least expect; we will grout our carrion crows with their beastly carcasses.
Yes, from the peaks of the Blue Ridge to tide water will we strew our , and leave their bleaching bones to enrich our soil.
Let them cross the Potomac; and them truly, there is not a boy or man from twelve to eighty years, who can rest a rifle on a rail fence, that will not have a crack at them.
I would advise, before those goths and vandals come, that they get the benediction of Boecher & Co. And now, with the usual come all men and the season--, war to the knife, beg leave to sign myself an Irish Catholic. M. C.
