The War.
--We, of the Local, though usually restricting ourselves to compiling the current local news of the day, may, in these eventful times, be permitted to transcend the bounds of what may be regarded as our sphere of duty, and make a few comments on the great national topic — the war. The
North have inaugurated active hostilities against the
South, which they will soon discover to be, to say the least, as "horrible a fault" as the mistake of
Grouchy at
Waterloo, which
Napoleon so characterized on that memorable occasion. --We have committed no wrong upon the people of that section; but, on the contrary, have for years patiently borne their unprovoked assaults, and the contumely which her press and her representatives in Congress have heaped upon us. Instead of appreciating the forbearance, the conciliatory tone, and the compromising spirit with which their increasing persecution have been met, they have gone on from bad to worse, their envenomed hate growing by what it fed upon, until patience has ceased to be a virtue; and, as the mild and dignified gentleman, after vain expostulation, at length repels with force the insult of the ruffian bully, so the
South, finding fair words and patient endurance of no avail, resorts to arms for the maintenance of her honor and the defence of her safety.
What will be the issue of mere battle, no true Southern man can doubt.
They are the assailants.
We fight for all that is dear to the heart of man; for our homes, and our loved and helpless ones; our honor, and for the great principle of human liberty.
The
North fights to
conquer; to entirely subdue; to utterly humiliate; for the relation of the meanest
African slave to his master is not more degrading than would be that of the
South to their masters of the
North, should we ever permit them to overcome us in this great struggle.
The end of the fight would not be a capitulation for peace; not a treaty between two Powers, such as is the usage of ordinary warfare, but
unconditional surrender.--The condition of our slaves, whose bonds they falsely declare they wish to break, is freedom, even as that of the wind, which bloweth where it listen, compared with that of our proud-spirited, gallant men, and
women, of the sunny
South, to whom God has given the fairest land on all the green earth as a heritage forever, should the hordes of the
North, whose hearts are chilled by the cold blasts of their own sterile regions, ever be permitted to plant their flag in triumph over us. Forbid it, Heaven!
The sons and daughters of
Virginia and the
South were never made to wear the bonds of vassalage or the badge of servitude.
In each and every heart there is an echo to the words of the immortal
Henry, ‘"Give me liberty, or give me death;"’ and from the light-hearted youth, not yet from school, to the white-headed sire of three score and ten, all, every one of them, are willing to gird on their armor to fight indeed the "good fight;" and as the soldier sinks upon the carnage-spread field — for there are those now in the strength of lusty manhood who
must fall — while his life's blood is ebbing out upon the soil that gave him birth, his last breath will be a sigh of regret that he cannot strike
one more blow for his beloved country.
