971. Massachusetts Centinel, 11 February 17891

Mr. RUSSELL, The following claims a place in the Centinel.


Notwithstanding the medical exertions of a celebrated Physician—the prescriptions of three gubernatorial Esculapians—and the endeavours of the whole fraternity of State Quacks and Mountebanks to prolong its existence—in convulsions the most violent—in contorsions and wreathings the most painful, on Wednesday last, finished its wicked career,

The Genius of Antifederalism.

It was born in August 1787—was aged 17 months. Though thus cut off in its childhood, it still lived to do much mischief; and to have grown so detestable, that even its friends—its foster-parents, shewed the utmost resentment whenever called by its name: It has, however expired, a striking instance of the truth of the adage,—“The wicked shall not live half their days.”

On WEDNESDAY, MARCH 4th, the funeral obsequies will be consummated—when a GRAND PROCESSION will be formed.




drawn in a flaming Car, by Ignorance, Knavery,

and Idleness.


armed with ®MDSU¯(a) levellers in their right, and halters

in their left hands.

DAY, SHATTUCK, &c. &c. their followers,

two and two, each with caps and bells.

Several “great men” their abettors, in disguise.


Supporters, The Supporters,
Injustice, BODY Knavery,
Abuse, Defamation,
Prevarication, Falshoods.


His standard—motto—“The prop of my

Empire is fallen.”

A KNOW-YE Rhode-Islander—and a pine-barren

Carolinian, in sackcloth, with brazen

helmets—crest “A Highwayman robbing by

law,” motto—“ ’Tis power which

sanctifies a crime.”

A cart drawn by Fraud—with Paper-Money,

Tender-Laws, &c. the sides painted,

Be it enacted,” &c.

The GODDESS of DISCORD—in weepers.

—In her right hand a torch expiring—in her left

a bloody sword broken.


swords embossed, “In '75 we were right.”

A standard, motto, “Birds of a feather flock together.”

Hon. PATRICK H-NRY, of Virginia,

Bearing a scroll, with the words, “In the creation

of TWO Confederacies are all my hopes

of greatness.”

His Excel. G. CL-NT-N, Esq.

In both hands a Purse, tied up. The words

thereon, “If New-York loses the Impost, I lose thee.”


In a car—painted on both sides with hieroglyphicks, “A ship rotting in the harbour.”—An English Crow picking the Eagle’s eyes out—the Eagle asleep; his talons cut—an American fort, with English colours—a rusty sword—a broken plough-share—starving mechanicks—broken merchants, &c.”

200 Wrongheads, two and two.

While we’re in, let’s keep in.”

A WOLF, covered with the golden fleece of a LAMB,

marked 4000 l. per ann.

The Geniusses of the Philad. Gazetteer—

New-York Journal—Boston Gazette, &c. in their

original blackness;

The days of our years are evil and few.”

A cart, with antifederal Pamphlets, Essays,

Protests, &c. in reams, marked “waste-paper.”

GALEN and the Junto—two and two.

The GODDESS of POVERTY—in tatters—

Follow me, my sons,” she cries,

We do,” each scribbler replies.

A dray with stumps of pens, broken ink stands, &c.

Antifederal Scribblers, in dishabille, two and two,

chaunting the following lines:—Who will

close the Procession.

Our prospects how fleeting, how feeble our cause,

Engag’d as we’ve been, in subverting the laws:

Though we’ve spread far and wide our libels and lies,

And Anties at heart, assum’d Freedom’s fair guise.

Tho’ WASHINGTON, and FRANKLIN, each scribbler defames,

And slanders with malice their actions and names;

Though ADAMS, and JAY, and your HAMILTON too,

Are libell’d and black’d by each cur of our crew;

Tho’ we’ve slander’d you much both abroad and at home,

And strove to demolish the FEDERAL DOME,

Yet finding our Genius to Erebus fled,

And in its disease all our projects lie dead.

The time of contrition’s assuredly come—

And we wait from the Feds our sentence and doom.

But with truth we can say, what we fear to deny,

That we’ve felt heretofore, as if telling a lie.

While engag’d in this cause we seldom had rest,

For the knaw-worm of conscience has tortur’d our breast—

Then forgive us, ye Feds, though we ask it thus late—

Our grief is sincere as our crimes have been great.

1. Reprinted: New York Morning Post, 20 February; Augusta Chronicle, 2 May.

(a) Bludgeons invented in 1786.