Domestic Traitors.
--The latest
European advices represent
John C. Fremont as in the act of hastily leaving
Paris for this country, where he had expressed a desire to raise a mob of twenty thousand congenial ruffians, for a crusade against the place of his nativity.
If the adventurer was in
Paris, and getting along finely in practising on the credulity of the
French bankers, by false representations respecting his
Mariposa estate, as Black Republican authorities represent him to have been, he ought to have worked the mine to the bed rock.
It will pay more to the ‘ "pan"’ to work those ‘"diggings"’ than any crusade he could originate and set against the
South.--Impartial history, when written, will hold up to the indignant gaze of posterity no two more traitorous and deep-dyed villains than this same
Fremont and
Gen. Scott, natives though they be of the sunny
South.
It will be written down that neither they nor their followers were moved by motives of honor or impulses of patriotism.
With these two leaders of the borders now preparing to subjugate the
South, disappointed ambition and a thirst for revenge is the leading motive — with their asinine followers it is only the pirate's and freebooter's desire for plunder.
Both
Fremont and
Scott will have the infamous distinction of being fratricides, and leaders of thieves, oppressors and common cut-throats.--
Granny Scott, who is represented to be in his dotage, was, unluckily for the honor of the Old Dominion, born on her soil, by one of those freaks of nature which sometimes gives to a comely mother a deformed child.
He is her first traitor offering of any magnitude.--
Fremont, the product of a hason between the young wife of old
Col. Pryor and a French dancing master, would have been born in
Richmond, in the house at present occupied by
H. W. Fry,
Esq., next to the City Hall, had not an untimely discovery of the little intimacy alluded to above caused the compulsory absence of
Mrs. Pryor and her inamorata from
Richmond.
Fremont first saw the light of day in
Charleston, S. C. Whether goaded by the thoughts of his ignoble birth, or what other motive we know not, he has been engaged all his life in desperate enterprises.
From the time he stole
Jessie Benton down to this, he has been trying some new scheme to place his name on the roll of fame.
He has the credit of being the first one who ever essayed with any success to marshal the motley hordes of abolitionism in a regular war (at the ballot-box) against the
South and its integrity.
He did not succeed then, nor do we imagine he will now, though he proposes to substitute bullets for ballots.
In the Presidential campaign in which he was the standard-bearer of the enemies of the
South, it was regarded as a remarkable fact, even in the excitement which had grown up on the sectional question which then bade fair to dismember the
Confederacy, and which has since accomplished the act, that a man who derived his education and early subsistence from the charity of Southern ladies should be selected to marshal the opposition to Southern rights and interests.
Surprise was expressed that a man who was indebted to
South Carolina gentlemen for early assistance in life, should be so far forgetful of ordinary gratitude and feeling as to offer himself as a leader in a crusade against the dearest rights of his benefactors.
The latter marvelled much that one who had passed his early years in the
South, and in the educated community of
Charleston, should be so lost to all early associations.
In contrasting his present position with that formerly occupied by him, they will still find cause for surprise and indignation.
In early life the talents of
Fremont were nurtured by gentle hands; in approaching manhood he was upheld by generous and patriotic men; and in the encouragement of his genius he was upheld by
South Carolina, who (like
Virginia to
Scott) presented him a sword, which is now to be drawn in the hope of sheathing it in the giver's bosom.
Like
Judas, both
Scott and
Fremont have been seduced and sold themselves for a price.
If they do not, like their great prototype, ‘"let out their bowels"’ from very shame at their own abasement, we trust that some of the stalwart soldiers of the Southern Confederacy may be enabled to do the job for them in an effectual if not brilliant manner.
