Richmond enquirer. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1815-1867, 1817-07-18

fire the patriot breast, or iilume the eve
of toll, az to see a free and unshackled
people celebrating with hearts of love
and gratitude, that propitious day-sthe
birthday Of their Independence
If there be one in this assembly whose
heart does not beat in unison with the
rest If there be one whose imagination
does not burn with The recollection aud
| remembrance of l776, when Washington,
like the sun obscurcd bv a cloud, came
forth, bearing il, his l,alowed right hand,
the spotless banner of Liberty-in the o.
ther, that scroll which contains the rights
of man: If there be one who is not
warmed bv the recurrence of peri
od like this, he deserves not the name
Of man. a period, when he saw the
chains that bound. Enclosed: the yoke
that pressed, tossed Off: the letters that
mangled, shattered and spurned-and
the door of his dungeon unhiUged-ard
he came forth, like the sun of righteous
ness, with healing under his wings. My
Co,mtrymcn. this is the hour. when the
images of Washington, Green, and the
mariyred MOntgon rv, should be before
us. For Wa .hington, we have no stars,
no garters, no titles. no spurs, no trap
pings, 10 escutchcons, to hang up in
Mount Vernsn's Hall. But the long con
! caienated deeds of his heroism shall hang
| in the Chambers of his Country's heart.
| He isgone he has left his fame behind
| like the last sad beams Of the setting sun,
the wind sigls lonely on his grassy tomb:
bnt the stone that marks lbs grave, shall
rise with allitS moss, and speak to o:ll;
| years. In &c changes, the revolutions
have shocked, and the explosions which
have shaken, 10 itslowest foundations,
| the Eastern World, it is matter of peculi-
ar graduation, that The storm of war has
ragged, and the artillery of despotic enc
! my has Illuminated yet has that storm
! passed away, and left more beautiful TO
The eye. the fair fabric of American liber-
! ty. Recently, very recently, have our
| warriors returned from the martial field.
| They were driven 10 that bloody field
necessity urged. The pride of virtuous
! hero forbade submission to that old and
unrelentrg foe, with whom, in our youth.
we had wrestled, and with whom we had
| VIGOROUSLY contended.
| But. did we contend with foe bound
down by martial law? Did we contend
with an enemy, whose conduct was res
trlcted by the usages of war? Did we
| tonal honor, national justice, or pride
Did England, | ask, pay that obedience
to neutralrigbts, which even Svplax of
antiquity, held so sacred No: Like
! Achilles, she wore right OH the point of
her sword. The slaughter of men, the
| pillage ofCiiies, the devastation of pro
vinces; these were her attributes and
| those she carried among an innocent and
defenceless people They pollute her
conscience, and make still blacker The re-
cord other crimes. Where shall we find,
/ IN Bonapartean warefare, an act so foul.
so fell, so crying, as that at Hampton ?
Moscow fell by her own hand better
had this hamlet also fallen, than the pa
ges of History be blackened with deed,
| at the recital of which, the human heart
will tremble. Not satisfied with hurting
TO destruction the warrior that opposed,
or the hero that Fought, the husband that
! supplicated, or the son that bled the
friend that piticd, or the parent that
mourned; not satisfied. with spurniup
the mother, and offering centumclv TO
The infant; not satisfied with making
wealth. poor, and poverty miserable; not
satisfied with snatching from heIpiessncss
IT'S last vestment, these mer-butchers,
with Cockburn at their head, shame, con-
fusion, condemnation attend them. down
the long annals of time! sought, with more
than Spanish vigilance, the ilabitations of
| disease. Within oneof those habitations
is found venerable old man-his hoary
head, bis pallid tongue and cheek por-
tend his approaching dissolution. Thro'
the mantle of years and infrmity, he be-
holds IN his enemy the wrath of demon
lie sees the assassin ready to plunge
the dagger in his bosom; he invokes. he
supnl' ates compassion he reminds
them of their profession. their God, their
4 nj ~ nj w. nol
lie turns TO embrace his daughter. tlle
only stay and comfort that remained.-
Oh, God how he rec0iIs from the sight.
that dlmmed his eyes toreverl He be-
holds her IN the cursed embraces of a
ruliiaf. Al the same moment he receives
his death stab, at the hands ola magma
nlmous British soldier close the scene
for humanity's sake drop the curtain.
But IT there is power to avenge. oh if
there be punishment for cold, insensate
murderer, for the stabber of domestic
quiet and peace, for the DESTROYER ofheIp-
less innocence; surely, this deepest.
foulest. most crying, Of human crimes,
cannot go unpunished. No, there is a
GOD, who takes cognizance of such
things; they are recorded in Heavens
Cliancery-they are enrolled in the book
OF crimes. But, we find the consecrated
cemetery q marsoleum, were not secure
from their ravages-the grave, the last.
tile silent, solemn abode of man, could
not escape the marauder its silence was
lnsulted, and IFS sanctitv violated-its
peace despised, andits holiness proGaned.
by the touch of hell-hounds-wlIo like
The proving Cannibal, fatiened on butcll-
cry, laughed at agony, and spurned The
shroudless corse. Tell me, my Country
men, II, in tie reign of Caesar, Tiberius,
| Nero, or Calionla-if I'm tic reirr, nrNVil,