Thursday evening last at the Cooper Institute, New York,
Carl Schurz made a speech of which we publish the material portions, and which our
readers will find worthy of an attentive perusal:
Our Government may indeed suppress a rebellion by force, by
an order to restore the working of the original agencies upon which it rests, it
is obliged to restore the individual to his original scope of self action. If it is attempted after having suppressed a
rebellion, to maintain its authority permanently by the same means by which it
re-established it; that is to say, by a constant and energetic pressure of
force, it would not restore the old order of things, but completely subvert its
original basis; for the means by which it was obliged to suppress the rebellion
are in direct contradiction to the fundamental principles of our
Government. In order to restore these
principles to life, the Government is obliged to trust its authority to the
loyal action of the people. There is the
embarrassment which a rebellion in a democratic republic will necessarily
produce. What does it mean, the restoration
of the Union? It means the restoration
of individual liberty in all its parts, and of that ramification of political
power in which self-government consists.
If it meant anything else, if it meant the permanent holding in
subjection of conquered provinces, if it meant the rule of force, if it meant
the subversion of those principles of individual liberty which are the breath
of our political life, would it then not be best to let the rebels go? Would it not be preferable to by content with
the modest proportions to which the development of things has reduced us, to
foster the principles and institutions which have made this people great and
happy for so long a time with conscientious care, and to trust to the expansive
power of liberty to restore this Republic in some more or less remote future to
its former measure of greatness. And yet
looking at things as they are, how can we expect to restore the Union but by
the rule of force – that is to say, by a military occupation of the Rebel
States? But you will tell me that this
will not last long. Well, and what will
determine this period? This
disappearance of the rebellious spirit; the return of sincere loyalty. But when and how will the rebellious spirit
cease and loyalty return? True, if this
rebellion were nothing but a mere momentary whim of the popular mind, if its
cause could be obliterated by one of those sudden changes in popular opinions,
which, in matters of minor importance, occur so frequently with our impressible
people, then a short military occupation might answer, and pass over without
any serious effect upon our future development.
But is it this? Look the fact
square in the face. This rebellion is
not a mere momentary whim, and although but few men seem to have prepared its
outbreak, it is not the mere upshot of a limited conspiracy. It is a thing of long preparation; nay, more
than that; it is a thing of logical development. This rebellion did not commence on the day
that the secession flag was hoisted at Charleston; it commenced on the day when
the Slave Power for the first time threatened to break up this Union. [Applause.]
Slavery had produced an organization of society strongly in contradistinction
with the principles underlying our system of Government – the absolute rule of
a superior class, based upon the absolute subjection of the laboring
population. This institution, continually
struggling against the vital ideas of our political life, and incompatible with
a free expression of public opinion, found itself placed in the alternative of
absolutely ruling or perishing. Hence
our long struggles, so often allayed by temporary expedients, but always
renewed with increased acrimony. And as
soon as the slave interests perceived that it could no longer rule inside of
the Union, it attempted to cut loose and exercise its undisputed sway outside
of it.
This was logical; and as long as the relation of interests
and necessities remains the same, its logical consequences will remain the same
also. This is not a matter of doctrine
or party creed, but of history. Nobody
can shut his eyes against so plain and palpable a fact. – How is it possible to
mistake the origin of this struggle? I
ask you in all sincerity, would the Rebellion have broken out, if Slavery had
not existed? [“No, no, no.”] Did the
rebellion raise its head at any place where slavery did not exist? Did it not find sympathy and support wherever
Slavery did exist? [“Yes, yes, yes.”] Is anybody in arms against the Union who
desires to perpetuate Slavery? What else
is this rebellion but a new but logical form of the old struggle of the slave
interests against the fundamental principles of our political system? Do you not indulge in the delusion that you
can put an end to this struggle by a mere victory in the field. By it you may quench the physical power of
the slave interest, but you cannot stifle its aspirations. The slave interest was disloyal as long as it
threatened the dissolution of the Union; it will be disloyal as long as it will
desire it. [Cheers.] And when will it cease to desire it? It may for a time sullenly submit to the
power of the Union, but it will not enter into the harmonious cooperation with
you, as long as it has aspirations of its own. – But to give up its aspirations
would be to give up its existence; it will therefore not cease to aspire until
it ceases to live. [Applause.] – Your president has said it once, and there is
far-seeing wisdom in the expression; This country will have no rest until
Slavery is put upon the course of ultimate extinction. [Great and continued applause.] But if the slave interest, as such cannot
return with cordial sincerity to its allegiance, where will the suppression of
this rebellion lead us? Mark my words:
Not only is the South in a state of rebellion, but the whole Union is in a
state of revolution. This revolution
will produce one of three things: either complete submission of the whole
people to the despotic demands of the Slave interest, or a radical change in
our Federal institutions, that is to say, the establishment of a strong,
consolidated, central Government, or such a reform of Southern society as will
make loyalty to the Union its natural temper and disposition. [Cheers.]
The old Union, as we have known it, is already gone; you can restore it
geographically – yes; but politically and morally, never. [Applause.] – And if Jefferson Davis would
come to-morrow and give up his sword to President Lincoln, and all the Rebel
armies were captured in one day, and forced to do penance in sackcloth and
ashes at the foot of Capitol Hill, the old Union would not be restored. [Cheers.]
That circle of ideas in which the political transactions of the old
union moved is forever broken [sensation]; it cannot be restored. The mutual confidence on which the political
transactions of the old Union rested has been discovered to be illusory; it is
irretrievably gone. [Applause.] I repeat, either you will submit to the
South, our you will rule the South by force of a strong, central Government, or
the Southern society must be so reformed that the Union can safely trust itself
to its loyalty. Submit to the rebellious
South! Submit after a victory! – [“No,
no, no.”] You will tell me that this is
impossible. Is it indeed? There are those in the South who have fought
and will fight the Union as long as the rebellion has a chance of success, who
will apparently come over to our side as soon as our victory is decided, and
who will then claim the right to control our policy. [“That’s it.”] And there are those in the North, who either
actuated by party spirit or misled by shortsightedness, stand ready to
co-operate with the former. [Sensation.] The attempt will be made – whether it will
succeed – who knows? But if it does
succeed, it will lead to new struggles [“John Brown.”] more acrimonious,
dangerous and destructive in their nature, but also more radical and permanent
in their result. [Cheers. “That’s it.”]
The second possibility I indicated is the establishment of a
strong, consolidated, central Government.
Look at the course you have taken since the outbreak of the
rebellion. It was natural that when the
necessity of vigorous action pressed upon us, the Government was clothed with
extraordinary powers. As its duties and
responsibilities increased, its hands had to be strengthened. But it might indeed have been expected that
the people as well as the Government would treat with scrupulous respect those fundamental
guarantees of our rights and liberties, the achievement or the preservation of
which were so often in the history of the world bought at the price of bloody revolutions. Outside of this republic, and, I have no
doubt, inside of it also, it was remarked with some surprise, that the writ of
habeas corpus, the liberty of the press, the authority of the civil courts of
justice, were in some cases rather cavalierly dealt with. How easily it is forgotten that you cannot
permit another’s rights to be infringed without paving the way for a violation
of our own! I do not mean to exaggerate the
importance of these occurrences. I can
well understand the violence of popular resentment as well as the urgent
necessities pressing upon those who stood at the helm. But I most earnestly warn you that a condition
of things producing such necessities must not last too long, lest it create bad
habits [applause] – the habit of disregarding these fundamental rights on one
side, and the habit of permitting them to be violated on the other. In my opinion the manner of treating its
enemies is the true test of the tendency of a Government. It may be questionable whether we can afford
to suppress a rebellion in the same way and with the same means in and with
which the King of Naples was in the habit of suppressing them; but it is
certain that we can not afford to imitate him in his manner of maintaining the re-established authority
of the Government. [Cheers.] But now look at the task before you. I am willing to suppose that the Rebel armies
will be beaten and dispersed with greater ease and facility than I at present
deem it possible. Then the spirit of disloyalty must be
extinguished, the source of the mischief must be stopped. This cannot be done by strategic movements
and success in battle. How, then, is it
to be done? Take the State of South
Carolina: you beat the Rebels defending its soil and occupy the whole State
with your troops. Armed resistance to
the authority of the United States becomes impossible but you want to restore
the active co-operation of the people of South Carolina in the Government of
the United States, without which the restoration of the old order of things is
impossible. Now, you either call upon
the people of South Carolina to elect new State authorities of their own, or
you impose upon them a Provisional Government, appointed by the President at
Washington. In the first place, the
people of South Carolina – a large majority of whom are disloyal, and those who
are not disloyal are not loyal either [applause], and to a certain extent seem to be incorrigible –
are most likely to elect a new set of Secessionists to office. It will be a re-organization of treason and
conspiracy; for you must know that conspiracies do not only precede rebellions,
but also follow unsuccessful ones. The
new State Government is at once in conflict with the Federal authorities. The latter find themselves counteracted and
clogged in every imaginable way; and after a series of unsuccessful attempts to
secure a cordial and trustworthy co-operation, after a season of tiresome and
fruitless wrangles, they find themselves obliged to resort to sterner measures;
then forcible suppression of every combination hostile to the Union; close
surveillance of press and speech; martial law where the civil tribunals are
found insufficient; in one word, a steady and energetic pressure of force by
which the Federal Government overrules and coerces the refractory State
authorities.
You will see at once that if this pressure be not strong
enough, it will not furnish the government of the United States the necessary
guaranties of peace and security; and if it be strong enough to do that it will
not leave to the State Government that freedom of action upon which our whole
political fabric is based. Or you follow
the other course I indicated – institute provisional governments by appointment
from the President, in a manner similar to that in which territories are
organized. Then the General Government
enters into immediate relation with the people of the rebellions district. While it leaves to the people the election of
the Territorial legislature, if I may call it so, it controls the action of
that Legislature by the vote of the Executive, and the rulings of the Judiciary
in a regular and organic way. Thus
mischief may be prevented, the execution of the laws secured, and the supremacy
of the General Government maintained by the Government’s own agents, until the
States can be reorganized with safety to the Union. This plan may be preferable to the other,
inasmuch as it will prevent the continuation of rebellions intrigues and
facilities the repression and punishment of disloyal practices without a
conflict with lawfully instituted authorities; but it is evident that such a
condition of things cannot last long without essentially changing the nature of
our general system of government. In
either case it will be the rule of force, modified by circumstances, ready to
respect individual rights, wherever the submission is complete, and to over
rule them wherever necessity may require it.
Do not say that these things are less dangerous because they are done
with the assent of the majority; for the assent of the people to a consolidation
of power is the first step toward subversion of liberty. [Applause.]
But is indeed this Government, in struggling against rebellion, in
re-establishing its authority, reduced to a policy which would nearly
obliterate the line separating Democracy from Absolutism? Is it really unable to stand this test of its
character? For this is the true test of
the experiment. If our democratic
institutions pass this crisis unimpaired, they will be stronger than ever; if
not, the decline will be rapid and irredeemable. But can they pass it unimpaired? Yes.
This Republic has her destiny in her hands. She may transform her greatest danger and
distress into the greatest triumph of her Principles. [Cheering.]
There would have been no rebellion, had there not been a despotic interest
incompatible with the spirit of her democratic institutions [Cheers], and she
has the glorious and inestimable privilege of suppressing this rebellion, by
enlarging liberty instead of restraining it [Great cheering], by granting
rights, instead of violating them. – [“Good.”
Applause.]
I shall have to speak of Slavery, and I wish you would
clearly understand me. I am an
Anti-Slavery man. (Cheering.) All the moral impulses of my heart have made
me so, and all the working of my brain has confirmed me in my faith. (Loud applause. “Hear, hear.”) I have never hesitated to plead the cause of
the outraged dignity of human nature. I
could not do otherwise; and whatever point of argument I might gain with any
one, if I denied it, I would not deny it, I shall never deny it. (“Good, good.” Applause.)
And yet, it is not my life-long creed, which would make me urge the
destruction of Slavery now. As an Anti-Slavery man, I would be satisfied with the effect the course of events is already
producing upon Slavery. When formerly I
argued in favor of its restriction, I knew well and clearly that as soon as the
supremacy of the slave-interest in our political life was destroyed, the very
life of Slavery was gone, and the institution would gradually disappear. For many reasons I would have preferred this
gradual and peaceful process. I never
was in favor of precipitate measures, where a quiet and steady reform was
within the limits of practicability.
(Cheers.) But the rebellion, which
placed Slavery in a direct practical antagonism with the institutions most dear
to us, has prodigiously hastened this development. I said already that I do not deem another
victory of Slavery over the National conscience impossible; but this reaction
will produce new struggles, with passions more fierce, with resentments more
acrimonious and reckless, and dangerous to our democratic institutions, and
violent in nature; but as to Slavery, radical and conclusive in their
results. (Applause.) This rebellion has uprooted the very
foundations of the system, and Slavery is not far from its death. – (Cheers.) It will die, and if you would, you could not
prevent it. (Applause.) And thus, as an Anti-Slavery man, I might
wait and look on with equanimity. But
what I do not want to see is, that Slavery, in this death struggle, should
involve the best institutions that ever made a nation great and happy. It shall not entangle the Union in its
downfall, and, therefore, the Union must deliver itself of this pernicious
embrace.
And now listen to what I have to say of the third possible
result of the revolution through which we are passing, the only result which
will restore the Union, and save the spirit o fits democratic
institutions. The ambition, the
aspirations of men grow from the circumstances in which they live. As these circumstances change, these aspirations
will take a corresponding direction. A
slaveholding population wedded to the peculiar interests of their peculiar
institutions, will, in their aspirations and political action, be governed by
the demand of those interests. If these
interests are incompatible with loyalty to a certain established form of
Government, that population will be disloyal in its aspirations. Their way of thinking, their logic, their
imaginations, their habits, are so effected and controlled by their
circumstances, that as long as the latter remain the same, the former are not
likely to change. Imagine this slaveholding
population with a Union army on their soil.
Their forces may be dispersed, their power paralyzed, but their former aspirations,
although checked, are not eradicated.
They move still in the same circle of ideas, and not only their memories
of the past, but also their desires for the future, are still centered in that
circle which Slavery has drawn around them. – Is not the intention and desire
mother to the act? You may tell me that,
however ardently they may long for a dissolution, their experience of the
present Rebellion will not let the idea of attempting another rebellion spring
up. Are you so sure of this? True, they will not repeat the same thing in
the same way. But have you never thought
of it, that this Republic may be one day involved in difficulties with foreign
powers, and that, in her greatest need, the disloyalists may discover another
opportunity? And have you considered
what our foreign policy will be when the powers of earth know that we harbor an
enemy within our limits ready to join hands with them? [Sensation.]
How can you rely upon the Southern people unless they are sincerely
loyal, and how can they be sincerely loyal as long as their circumstances are
such as to make disloyalty the natural condition of their desires and
aspirations? They cannot be faithful
unless their desires and aspirations change.
And how can you change them? By
opening before them new prospects and a new future. [Cheering.]
Look at the other side of the picture. Imagine – and I suppose it is not treasonable
to imagine such a thing – imagine Slavery were destroyed in consequence of this
rebellion. – Slavery, once destroyed, can never be restored. [Applause.]
A reaction in this respect is absolutely impossible, so evidently
impossible that it will not even be attempted.
Slavery is like an egg – once broken, it can never be repaired. [Cheering.]
Even the wildest fanatic will see this.
However ardent a devotee of Slavery a man be, Slavery once destroyed, he
will see that it is useless to brood over a past which is definitively gone,
and cannot be revived. He will find
himself forced to direct his eyes towards the future. All his former hopes and aspirations vanish;
his former desires are left without a tangible object. Slavery having no future, his former
aspirations and desires, founded upon Slavery, have gone. He feels the necessity of accommodating himself
to the new order of things, and the necessities of the present will make him
think of the necessities of the future.
Insensibly his mind drifts into plans and projects for coming days, and
insensibly he has based these plans and projects upon the new order of things. A new circle of ideas has opened itself to
him, and however reluctantly he may have given up the old one, he is already
active in this new sphere. And this new
circle of ideas being one which moves in the atmosphere of Free Labor society,
new interests, new hopes, new aspirations spring up, which closely attach
themselves to the political institutions with which in this country Free Labor
Society is identified. This is the
Union, based upon general self-government.
Gradually the reformed man will understand and appreciate the advantage
of this new order of things, and loyalty will become as natural to him, as
disloyalty was before. It may be said,
that the arch-traitors, the political propagandists of Slavery can never be
made loyal; that their rancor and resentment will be implacable, and that the
only second generation will be capable of a complete reform. But such men will no longer be the rulers of
Southern society; for Southern society being with all its habits and interest,
no longer identified with Slavery, that element of the population will rise to
prominent influence which most easily identifies itself with free labor; I mean
the non-slaveholding people of the South.
[Cheers.] They have been held in
a sort of moral subjection by the great slave lords. Not for themselves but for them they were
disloyal. The destruction of Slavery
will wipe out the prestige of their former rulers; it will lift the yoke from their
necks; they will soon undertake to think for themselves, and thinking freely
they will not fail to understand their own true interests. They will find in Free Labor Society their
natural elements; and Free Labor society is naturally loyal to the Union. [Applause.]
Let the old political leaders fret as they please; it is the Free Labor
majority that will give to society its character and tone. [Cheering.]
This is what I meant by so reforming Southern society as to
make loyalty to the Union its natural temper and disposition. This done, the necessity of a military
occupation, the rule of force will cease; our political life will soon return
to the beaten track of self-government, and the restored Union may safely trust
itself to the good faith of a reformed people.
The antagonistic element which continually struggled against the vital
principles of our system of government once removed we shall be a truly united
people, with common principles, common interests, common hopes, and a common future. True, there will be other points of
controversy, about banks or hard money, internal improvements, free trade or
protection, but however fierce party contest may be, there will be no question
involving the very foundation of our polity, and no party will refuse to submit
to the verdict of popular suffrage on the controversial issue. [Cheers.]
The Union will not only be strong again, but stronger than ever
before. [Great cheering.] And if you ask me under what existing
circumstances, I would propose to do, I would say Let Slavery be abolished in
the District of Columbia, and wherever the Government has immediate authority,
be abolished. [Loud and long continued
applause.] Let the slaves of Rebels be
confiscated by the General Government, and then emancipated, [tremendous
applause] and let a fair compensation be offered to loyal Slave States and
masters, who will agree upon some system of emancipation. – [Cheering.] Let this or some other measure to the same
effect, be carried out in some manner compatible with our fundamental
laws. I do not care which, provided always the measure be
thoroughgoing enough to render a reaction, a re-establishment of the slave
power impossible; [cheering] for as long as this is possible, as long as the
hopes and aspirations of the Southern people can cling to such a chance, you
will not have succeeded in cutting them loose from the old vicious circle of
ideas, their loyalty will be subject to the change of circumstances, and such
loyalty is worth nothing. [Cheers.] I am at once met by a vast array of
objections. “It would be unconstitutional!”
say some scrupulous patriots. It is not
a little surprising, that the Constitution should be quoted most frequent and
persistently in favor of those who threw that very Constitution overboard? [Cheers.]
Unconstitutional! Let us examine
the consistency of those who on this point are so sensitive. Have you not in the course of this rebellion
suspended in many cases the writ of habeas corpus? Have you not suppressed newspapers, and thus
violated the liberty of the press? Have
you not deprived citizens of their liberty without the process of law? Have you not here and there superseded the
regular courts of justice by military authority? And was all this done in conformity with the
safeguards which the Constitution throws around the rights and liberties of the
citizens? But you tell me that all this
was commanded by urgent necessity.
Indeed! Is the necessity of
restoring the true life-elements of the Union less urgent than the necessity of
imprisoning a traitor or stopping a Secession newspaper? [Applause.]
Will necessity which justifies a violation of the dearest guaranties of
our own rights and liberties, will not justify the overthrow of the most odious
institution of this age? [Cheers.] What? Is
the Constitution such as to countenance in an extreme case the most dangerous
imitation of the practices of despotic Governments, but not to countenance,
even the extremist case, the necessity of a great reform, which the enlightened
spirit of our century has demanded so long, and not ceased to demand? [Cheers.]
Is it, indeed, your opinion that in difficult circumstances like ours
neither the writ of habeas corpus, nor the liberty of the press nor the
authority of the regular courts of justice, in one word, no right shall be held
sacred and inviolable under the Constitution but that most monstrous and
abominable right which permits one man to hold another as property? [Great cheering.] Is to your constitutional conscience our
whole magna charta of liberties nothing, and Slavery all? [Loud applause.] Slavery all, even while endeavoring by the
most damnable rebellion to subvert this very Constitution?
But do not misunderstand me.
I am far from underestimating the importance of constitutional
forms. Where constitutional forms are
not strictly observed, constitutional guaranties soon become valueless. But where is the danger in this case? Nobody denies the constitutionality of the
power of the Government to abolish Slavery in the District of Columbia; nobody
will deny the constitutionality of an offer of compensation to loyal slave
owners. Or would the confiscation of
Rebel property be unconstitutional? The
Constitution defines clearly what treason consists in; and then it gives
Congress the power to pass laws for the punishment of treason. In this respect the Constitution gives
Congress full discretion. If Congress
can decree the penalty of death, or imprisonment, or banishment, why not the
confiscation of property? And if
Congress can make lands, and houses, and horses, and wagons liable to
confiscation, why not slaves? And when
these slaves are confiscated by the Government, cannot Congress declare them
emancipated, or rather will they not be emancipated by that very act? Is there anything in the Constitution to
hinder it. Can there be any doubt, can
there be a shadow of a doubt, as to the authority of Congress to do this? And if Congress can do it, why should it not? Do you prefer the death penalty? Will you present to the world the spectacle
of a great nation thirsting for the blood of a number of miserable individuals?
– Do not say that you want to make an example; for if you stop the source of
treason no warning example to frighten traitors will be needed. – [Loud
cheers.] Or do you prefer imprisonment? The imprisonment of the leaders may very well
go along with confiscation, and as to the imprisonment of the masses, nobody
will think of it. Or do you prefer banishment? [“Yes.”] – How would it please you to see
Europe overrun with “exiles from America,” blackening your character and
defiling your Government at every street corner and incessantly engaged in
plotting against their country?
And what effect will these two modes of punishment have upon
the Southern people? Either you are
severe in applying them, and then you will excite violent resentments, or you
are not severe, and then your penalties will frighten nobody, and fail of the
object of serving as a warning example.
In neither case will you make friends.
It has frequently been said that the punishment of crime ought not to be
a mere revenge taken by society, but that its principal object ought to be the
reformation and improvement of the criminal.
[Cheers.] This is a humane idea,
worthy of this enlightened century. It ought
to be carried out wherever practicable.
But how much greater and more commendable would it be if applied to a
people instead of an individual! As for
me, it will be to be supremely indifferent whether any of the rebels meets a
punishment adequate to his crime, provided the great source of disloyalty to be
punished in itself. [Cheers] The best revenge for the past is that which
furnishes the best assurance for the future.
[Applause.] And how can we loose
this great opportunity, how can we throw away this glorious privilege we enjoy,
of putting down a rebellion by enlarging liberty, and of punishing treason by
reforming society. [Cheers.] What hinders you? It is not the Constitution! Its voice is clear, unmistakable, and
encouraging. – This time the Constitution refuses to serve as a mask to morbid
timidity or secret tenderness for Slavery.
Or is there really anything frightful to you in the idea, which we hear
so frequently expressed, that every measure touching Slavery would irritate the
rebels very much, and make them very angry.
[Laughter and cheering.] – Irritate them and make them angry! I should not wonder. Every cannon shot you fire at them, every
gunboat that shells their fortifications, every bayonet charge that breaks
their lines, makes them, I have no doubt, quite angry. [Continued laughter.] It may be justly supposed that every forward
movement of our troops has upon them quite an irritating effect. [Great laughter – “Fort Donelson.”] If you want to see them smile, you must let
them alone entirely. But will you,
therefore, load your muskets with sawdust, stop the advance of your battalions,
and run your navy ashore? It must be
confessed, they have never shown such tender regards for our institutions. But why will this measure make them so
angry? Because it will, in the end, make
them powerless for mischief. And if we
can obtain so desirable an end by doing this, will it not be the best to
support their anger with equanimity, and do it?
[Cheering.] I never heard of a
man who, when assaulted by a robber, would refrain from disarming him because
it might create unpleasant feelings.
[Applause.] But, in fact, the
irritation it will create will be rather short –lived. It will die out with Slavery. I have endeavored to set forth that
reformation of Southern society resulting from these measures is the only thing
that will make the Southern people our sincere friends. Why not risk a short irritation for a lasting
friendship? [Cheers.]
But while I am little inclined to pay much regard to the
feelings of the Rebels, who would delight in cutting our throats, I deem it our
duty to treat with respect the opinions of the loyal men of the South, on whose
fidelity the whirl of Rebellion raging around them had no power. I have heard it said that any measure
touching Slavery in any way would drive them over to our common enemy. Is this possible? Is their loyalty of so uncertain a complexion
that they will remain true to the Union only as long as the Union does nothing
which they do not fancy? What, then, would
distinguish them from the traitors? – for the traitors would have adhered to
the Union if they had been permitted to rule it. [Cheers.]
It is impossible! Whatever they
might feel inclined to do if their rights were attacked in an unconstitutional
manner; to constitutional measures, constitutionally enacted and carried out, a
true Union man will never offer resistance.
[Applause.] As we listen with
respect to their opinions, so they will listen respectfully to our advice. If we speak to them as friends, they will not
turn away from us as enemies. I would
say to them: You, Union men of the South, have faithfully clung to the cause of
our common country, although your education, the circumstances in which you
lived, and the voice of your neighbors were well calculated to call you to the
other side. You have resisted a temptation
which to many proved fatal. For this we
honor you. We labor and fight side by
side to restore the Union to its ancient greatness, and to their purity the
eternal principles upon which it can safely and permanently rest. What will you have – a Union continually
tottering upon its foundation, or a Union of a truly united people, a Union of
common principles, common interests, a common honor, and a common destiny? We do not work for ourselves alone, we are
not responsible to ourselves alone, but also to posterity. What legacy will you leave to your children –
new struggles, new dangers, new revulsions, or a future of peaceful
progress? An unfinished, trembling
edifice, that may some day tumble down over their heads, because its
foundations were not firmly laid, or a house resting upon the firm rock of a
truly free Government, in which untold millions may quietly and harmoniously
dwell.
We do not mean to disregard the obligations we owe you,
neither constitutional obligations nor those which spring from your claims to
our gratitude. We do not mean that you
shall suffer in rights or fortune, nor to tear you forcibly from your ways and
habits of life. But let us reason
together. Do you think that Slavery will
live always? Consider this question
calmly, and without prejudice or passion.
Do you think it will live always, in spite of the thousand agencies
which, in this Nineteenth Century of ours, are busy working its
destruction? It cannot be. Its end will come one day, and that day is
bro’t nearer by the suicidal war which, in this Rebellion, Slavery is waging
against itself. And how do you wish that
this end should be? A violent convulsion
or the result of a quiet and peaceful reform.
Will you leave it to chance or would you not rather keep this certain development
under the moderating control of your voluntary action? There is but one way of avoiding new
struggles and a final revulsion, and that is by commencing a vigorous progressive
reform in time. In time, I say – and when
will the time have arrived? – Either you control this development by wise
measures seasonably adopted – or it will control you. How long will you wait? You speak of difficulties; I see them – they are
great, very great. But will they not be
twenty times greater twenty years hence, unless you speedily commence to remove
them? You ask me, what shall we do with
our negroes, who are now four millions?
And I ask you, what will you do with them when they will be eight millions
– or rather, what will they do with you?
(Cheering.) Is it wise to quail
before difficulties to-day, when it is sure that they will be twice as great
to-morrow, and equally sure that some day they must – absolutely must –
be solved! You speak of your material
interests. To-day, I am convinced there
is hardly a man in the Free States of this Republic who would not cheerfully
consent to compensate you amply for the sacrifices you might voluntarily
bring. (Applause.) Do you think that after the fierce struggles
which inevitably will come if Slavery remains a power in the land after this
war, and which, with the certainty of fate, will bring on its destruction, an
equally liberal spirit will prevail? Look
at this fairly and without prejudice.
Does not every consideration of safety and material interest command you
to commence this reform without delay?
Must it not be clear to the dullest mind that this task which
imperiously imposes itself upon you, will be the easier the sooner it is taken
in hand, and the more difficult and fearful the longer it is put off? But, pardon me, Union men of the South, if in
speaking to you of a thing of such tremendous moment, I have appealed only to
the meaner instincts of human nature.
How great, how sublime a part might you play in this crisis,
if you appreciated the importance of your position – if you would cast off the
small ambition which governs so many of you!
To maintain a point in controversy just because you have asserted it, to
say: we can do this if we please, and nobody shall hinder us, and therefore we
will do it; or, we have slavery and nobody has a right to interfere with it,
and therefore we will maintain it. How
small an ambition is this! How much
greater, how infinitely nobler would it be, if you would boldly place yourself
at the head of the movement and say to us, we grew up in the habits of
slaveholding society, and our interests were long identified with the
institution, and we think also that you cannot lawfully deprive us of it; but
since we see that it is the great disturbing element in this Republic, we
voluntarily sacrifice it to the peace of the nation; we immolate it as a patriotic
offering on the alter of the country!
[Loud cheers.] Where are the
hearts large enough for so great and exalted an ambition? Ah, if some man of a powerful will and lofty
devotion would rise up among you; if an Andrew Johnson would go among his
people, and tell them [great applause] how noble it is to sacrifice for the
good of the country [immense cheering] not only one’s blood, but also one’s
prejudices and false pride, he would be greater than the generals who fight our
battles, greater than the statesmen who direct our affairs, and coming
generations would gratefully remember him as the true pacificator of his
country. [Applause.] He would stand above those that are first in
war, he would be the true hero of peace, he would not be second in the hearts
of his countrymen. Thus I would speak to
the Union men of the South.
But whatever they may do, or not do, our duty remains the
same. We cannot wait one for another,
the development of things presses on, and the day of the final decision draws
nearer every hour. Americans, I have
spoken to you the plain, cold language of fact, and reason. I have not endeavored to capture your hearts
with passionate appeals, nor your senses with the melody of sonorous
periods. I did desire to rush you on to
hasty conclusions; for what you resolve
upon with coolness and moderation, you will carry out with firmness and
courage. And yet it is difficult for a
man of heart to preserve that coolness and moderation when looking at the
position this proud nation is at present occupying before the world; when I
hear in this great crisis the miserable cant of party; when I see small
politicians busy to gain a point on their opponents; when I see great men in
fluttering trepidation lest they spoil their “record” or lose their little
capital of constancy. [Cheering.] What! you, the descendants of those men of
iron who preferred a life or death struggle with misery on the bleak and wintry
coast of New England to submission to priestcraft and kingcraft; you the
offspring of those hardy pioneers who set their faces against all the dangers
and difficulties that surround the early settler’s life; you who subdued the
forces of wild Nature, cleared away the primeval forest, covered the endless
prairies with human habitations; you, this race of bold reformers who blended
together the most incongruous elements of birth and creed, who built up a
Government which you called a model Republic, and undertook to show mankind how
to be free; you, the mighty nation of the West, that presumes to defy the world
in arms, and to subject a hemisphere to its sovereign dictation: you, who boast
of reconciling from no enterprise ever so great, and no problem ever so fearful
– the spectral monster of Slavery stares you in the face, and now your blood
runs cold, and all your courage fails you?
For half a century it has disturbed the peace of this
Republic; it has arrogated to itself your national domain; it has attempted to
establish its absolute rule and to absorb even your future development; it has
disgraced you in the eyes of mankind, and now it endeavors to ruin you if it
cannot rule you; it raises its murderous hand against the institutions most
dear to you; it attempts to draw the power of foreign nations upon your heads;
it swallows up the treasures you have earned by long years of labor; it drinks
the blood of your sons and the tears of your wives – and now every day it is
whispered in your ears, Whatever Slavery may have done to you, whatever you may
suffer, touch it not! How many thousand millions of your wealth it may cost,
however much blood you may have to shed in order to disarm its murderous hand,
touch it not! How many years of peace
and prosperity you may have to sacrifice in order to prolong its existence, touch
it not. And if it should cost you your
honor – listen to this story: On the Lower Potomac, as the papers tell us, a
negro comes within our lines, and tells the valiant defenders of the Union that
his master conspires with the Rebels, and has a quantity of arms concealed in a
swamp; our soldiers go and find the arms; the master reclaims his slave; the
slave is given up; the master ties him to his horse, drags him along eleven
miles to his house, lashes him to a tree, and, with the assistance of his
overseer, whips him three hours, three mortal hours; then the negro dies. That black man served the Union, Slavery
attempts to destroy the Union, the Union surrenders the black man to Slavery,
and he is whipped to death – touch it not.
[“Hear, hear.” Profound
sensation.] Let an imperishable blush of
shame cover every cheek in this boasted land of freedom – but be careful not to
touch it! Ah, what a dark divinity is
this, that we must sacrifice to our peace, our blood, our future, our
honor! What an insatiable vampyre is
this that drinks out the very marrow of our manliness? [“Shame.”] – Pardon me; this sounds like a
dark dream, like the offspring of a hypochondriac imagination, and yet – have I
been unjust in what I said? [“No.”]
Is it asking too much of you that you shall secure against
future dangers all that is most dear to you, by vigorous measures? Or is it not true that such measures would
not be opposed had they not the smell of principle about them? [“That’s it.”
Applause.] Or do the measures
proposed really offend your constitutional conscience? The most scrupulous interpreter of our
fundamental laws will not succeed in discovering an objection. Or are they impolitic? What policy can be better than that which
secures peace and liberty to the people?
Or are they inhuman? I have heard
it said that a measure touching Slavery might disturb the tranquility and
endanger the fortunes of many innocent people in the South. This is a possibility which I sincerely
deplore. But many of us will remember
now, after they were told in former years, that true philanthropy begins at
home. Disturb the tranquility and
endanger the fortunes of innocent people in the South! – and there your
tenderness stops. Are the six hundred
thousand loyal men of the North, who have offered their lives and all they have
and they are for the Union, less innocent?
Are those who have soaked the soil of Virginia, and Missouri and
Kentucky, and Tennessee with their blood, are they guilty? Are the tears of Northern widows and children
for their dead husbands and fathers less warm and precious than the tears of a
planter’s lady about the threatened loss of her human chattels? [Sensation.]
If you have such tender feelings about the dangers and troubles of
others, how great must be the estimation you place upon the losses and
sufferings of our people! Streams of blood, and a stream of tears for
every drop of blood; the happiness of so many thousand families forever
blasted, the prosperity of the country ruined for so many years – how great
must be the compensation for all this! Shall all this be squandered for
nothing? For a mere temporary cessation
of hostilities, a prospect of new troubles, a mere fiction of peace?
People of America, I implore you, for once be true to
yourselves [Great applause,] and do justice to the unmistakable instinct of
your minds, and the noble impulses of your hearts. Let it not be said that the great American
Republic is afraid of the nineteenth century. – [Loud cheers.] and you, legislators of the country, and
those who stand at the helm of Government, you, I entreat, do not trifle with
the blood of the people. This is no time
for politely consulting our enemies’ feelings.
Be sure, whatever progressive measure you may resolve upon, however
progressive it may be, the people are ready to sustain you with heart and
hand. [Loud and long continued cheering
and waving of hats.] The people do not
ask for anything that might seem extravagant. – They do not care for empty
glory; they do not want revenge, but they do want a fruitful victory and a
lasting peace. [Great applause.] When pondering over the tendency of this
great crisis, two pictures of our future rise up before my mental vision. Here is one.
The republic distracted by a series of revulsions and reactions, all
tending toward the usurpation of power, and the gradual destruction of that
beautiful system of self-government, to which this country owes its progress
and prosperity; the nation sitting on the ruins of her glory, looking back to
our days with a sorrowful eye, and saying, “Then we ought to have acted like
men, and all would be well now.” – Too late, too late! And here is the other: - A Government freed
from the shackles of a despotic and usurping interest, resting safely upon the
loyalty of a united people; a nation engaged in the peaceable discussion of its
moral and material problems, and quietly working out its progressive
development; its power growing in the same measure with its moral consistency;
the esteem of mankind centering upon a purified people; a union firmly rooted
in the sincere and undivided affections of all its citizens; a regenerated
republic, the natural guide and beacon light of all legitimate aspirations of
humanity. These are the two pictures of
our future. Choose!
– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye,
Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 15, 1862, p. 1
