There was no mixture of the
pale Saxon to taint or dilute the noble current of the Anglo-Norman
blood which flowed through and fired the hearts of these descendants of
the nobility and gentry of Britain. They were the cavaliers in chivalry
and daring, and despised, as their descendants despised, the Roundheads
and their descendants, with their cold, dissembling natures,
hypocritical in religion as faithless in friendship, without one
generous emotion or ennobling sentiment.
It is not remarkable that conflict should ensue between races so
dissimilar in a struggle to control the Government: true to the
instincts of race, each contended for that which best suited their
genius and wants; and not at all remarkable that all the generous
gallantry in such a conflict should be found with the Celt, and all the
cruel rapacity and meanness with the Saxon. Their triumph, through the
force of numbers, was incomplete, until their enemies were tortured by
every cruelty of oppression, and the fabric of the Government dashed to
atoms. This triumph can only be temporary. The innate love of free
institutions, universal in the heart of the Celtic Southerner, will
_yet_ unite all the races to retrieve the lost.
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