Gazette Of The United States

BALTIMORE, July 18.

The Inhabitants of Cape-Francois TO THE Inhabitants of Baltimore.

WHAT a painful and at the same time consoling spectacle does the town of Baltimore now present! What scenes of pain and affecting sympathy! What a picture of wretchedness and benevolence!

After escaping from the horrors of fire and sword—from all the fury that a horde of savages can be supposed capable of, whose souls are inured to the smallest sentiment of humanity—By the explosion of our country—abandoning our fortunes, repaired by the labors of from twenty to thirty years; in a state of absolute want—most of us separated from our husbands, our wives, our parents, our children, our friends.—A painful resignation to the dispensations of providence was alone capable of arresting the effects of our despair:—But this Providence has graciously reserved us once more to taste of happiness—favoring us with a most prosperous navigation, it has conducted us to a hospitable shore, where all the citizens have received us with open arms—where every heart has expanded with pity for our disconsolate situation—where every comfort and assistance has been most bountifully afforded us—scarcely were our misfortunes known to this generous people, when an asylum was offered us in the bosom of their families—large subscription opened—and all that relief, only to be expected in a great and populous city, at once found in the single town of Baltimore.

Generous inhabitants of Baltimore! receive these public expressions of a gratitude that shall possess our hearts till our latest breath—that shall be perpetuated in the hearts of our children, whom it shall be our duty to bring up in these sentiments for you: We will inform them of the benevolent reception you have given us; we will tell them that it is you who have restored us to life—but how will it ever be possible for us to describe to them the obliging cares, the delicate attentions, the engaging and kind concern you have manifested to us—the marks of sympathy, the tender compassion you have shown for our suffering—the sweet consolation you have procured us—the tears you have shed with us—and, in fine, the deep sense you have discovered of the horrors of our wretched situation.

Receive the assurances of a gratitude whose weight is lighter on our hearts, from your accompanying your benevolence with a touching sensibility, that marks true generosity with all those shades of delicacy that infinitely enhances its value.

Receive the assurances of all those sentiments with which we are so deeply penetrated, and of our fervent wishes for a continuance of that prosperity of which you are so eminently deserving, from the honorable use you make of it.

Citizens, a base calumny may possibly strive to pursue us to the friendly asylum you have opened: but we beseech you not to listen to its suggestions—to the kindness you have already shown us, add that of being on your guard against it.—Our enemies, envious of that humane concern with which you endeavor to make us forget our misfortunes, may endeavor still to persecute us, by attempting to rob us of your esteem. Alas! we trust we may with confidence say that we deserve it—we deny with that assurance that innocence alone can give, the dispositions most injurious imputed to us, of making resistance to those laws dictated for us by our country.

Virtuous Americans! be not surprised that we cannot convey to you the sense of all we feel on this occasion; the great emotions of the mind are far beyond the most impassioned powers of language, and your hearts are sufficiently acquainted with them to judge what must be the extent of our feelings.