Fourteenth of December.
On the 14th day of December, 1799,
Washington died.
He was the greatest benefactor the
Yankees ever had. To him they owe, primarily, everything except the natural badness of their general character.
His sword conquered for them their independence of
Great Britain.
His influence enabled them to form the
Union, from which incalculable prosperity flowed to them and their descendants.
It is no violent inference from the circumstances of the times, to aver that but for
Washington, his commanding influence, and his great talents,
Great Britain would never have been dispossessed of her hold upon the colonies.
On the anniversary of the death of
Washington, sixty-three years after that event, we find his countrymen engaged in a desperate struggle for existence, with these same Yankees, on the spot where repose the bones of his mother, and within so short a distance of
Mount Vernon, that the roar of artillery may be easily heard.
The very men whose liberties he preserved are striving, with the aid of all the vagabonds and outlaws they can rake from the getters of the
European cities, to destroy the liberties of those among whom he was born and bred.
Can anything more strongly mark the character of this war?
Can anything give a more accurate idea of the character of the
Yankees?
Ingratitude, the basest ingratitude, seems to be, with all the other vile attributes which is ever found united with it the distinguishing trait of the whole vile race.--When the Israelites left
Egypt, their great leader took up the bones of Joseph and carried them along with him. He would not leave them to be trampled on and otherwise desecrated by the ‘"vilest of nations."’ In our opinion, the same thing ought to have been done with the bones of
Washington the moment this war began.
Who knows what sacrilege a Yankee may not be guilty of?
They have already rifled the tomb of a sister of
Jno. Marshall.
In
Newbern they ransacked every grave, to obtain the small piece of silver plate, with the name engraved on it, that is usually put on the coffin.
Among other graves thus violated was that of
Governor Stanly, whose son is now the
Yankee ruler in that city, protected by those very soldiers who sacrilegiously tore up and scattered the bones of his father.
Who knows that the remains of
Washington may not be desecrated in the same way?
The
Yankees are not too good for anything vile.
They would, every man of them, dig up the coffins of their own parents, and make buttons out of their bones, if they could sell them to advantage; if, to use their own vile slang, they found ‘"it would pay."’ We wish the bones of
Washington were somewhere else.
The scoundrels that removed the gravestones from
Jamestown would not hesitate in the hope of profit, to steal these precious relies and exhibit them for money in every city in Yankeedom.
They would do the same thing with the bones of the Saviour of mankind for the sake of profit.
But, to conclude: is it not strange that on the sixty-third anniversary of
Washington's death, his countrymen should be fighting the greatest battle ever fought on this continent in defense of their liberties, agaiainst the
Yankees, whom he redeemed from slavery?
As we write this, we have not heard the issue.
But we do not doubt it in the least.
We have the firmest reliance on a just God who we are persuaded will not permit the success of the vile cause in which Yankeedom is engaged the cause of murder, plunder, and sacrilege.
