Qass Book. Bi^ 2 'jLud^. ^ K "Shall Cromwell Mave a Statue?" ORATION BY CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS BEFORE THE PHI BETA KAPPA SOCIETY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, Tuesday, June 17, 1902. BOSTON C H A R L E S E . L A U R I A T CO 1902. C^&l .U/\ 'LX* " Whom doth the king delight to honour? that is the question of questions concerning the king's own honour. Show me tlie man you honour; I know by that symptom, better than by any other, what kind of man you yourself are. For you show me there what your ideal of manhood is ; what kind of man you long inexpressibly to be, and would thank the gods, with your whole soul, for being if you could." " Who is to have a Statue? means. Whom shall we consecrate and set apart as one of our sacred men ? Sacred ; that all men may see him, be reminded of him, and, by new example added to old perpetual precept, be taught what is real worth in man. Whom do you wish us to resemble? Him you set on a high column, that all men, looking on it, may be continually apprised of the duty you ex- pect from them." — Thomas Carlyle, '•'' Latfer-Day Pamp/i/ets." (i8so.) *i SHALL CROMWELL HAVE A STATUE? ff At about 8 ()\'l()ck of the afternoon of September Srd, 1658. the day of Wori-ester and of Dunbar, and as a great teni})est was wearing itself to rest, Oliver C'roniwell died. He died in London, in the palace of Whitehall : -that palace of the great banqueting hall, through whose central window Charles 1. had walked forth to the scaf- fold a little less than ten years before. A few weeks later, " with a more than regal solenniity," the body of the great Lord Protector was carried to Westminster Abbey, and there buried •• amongst Kings." Two years then elapsed : and, on the twelfth anniversary of King Charles's execution, the remains of the usurper, having been disinterred ])y a unanimoias vote of the C^onvention Parliament, were hung at Tyburn. The trunk was then buried under the gallows, while C^romweirs head was set on a pole over the roof of Westminstei- Llall. Nearly two centuries of execration ensued, until, in the sixtli generation, the earlier verdict was challenged, and the question at last asked : — '' Shall Cromwell have a statue ?" Cromwell, the traitor, the usurper, the execrable murderer of the martyred Charles I At first, and for long, the suggestion was looked upon almost as an impiety, and. as such, scornfully repelled. Not only did the old loyal King-worship of England recoil from the thought, but. indignantly appealing to the church, it declared that no such distinction could be granted so long as there re- mained in the prayer-book a form of supi)lication for •• King Charles, the Martyr." and of •• praise and thaidy tlie votes of States in popular conventions, it is safe to say that there was not a man in the country from Washington and Hamilton on the one side, to George Clinton and George Mason on the othei-, who regarded the new system as anything but an experiment entered upon by the States and fi'om which eacli and every State had the right peaceably to withdraw, a rig-ht which was very likely to be exercised."! Here are two explicit statements of the legal and technical side of the argument made by authority to which no exception can be taken, at least by those of the Union side. On them, and on them alone, the case for the abstract light of secession might be rested, and we could go on to the next stage of the discussion. I am unwilling, however, so to do. The issue involved is still one of interest, and I am not disposed to leave it on the mere dictum of two authorities, however eminent. In the first place I do not altogether concur in their statement ; in the next place, this discussion is a mere * Atlantir Monthly Mac/azine (March, 1902) vol. 89 p. 305. j Webster, American Statesman Series, p. 172. 13 threshing of straw unless we get at the true inwardness of the situation. When it conies to subjects — political or moral — in which human beings are involved, meta- physics are scarcely less to be avoided than cant ; alleged historical facts ai'e apt to prove e unaccompanied * Washington's Works, vol. xi, pp. 378, 380. 15 by practical diffiinilty.* And, attei- all is said and done, tho legality of secession is somewhat of a metaphysical abstraction so long' as the right of revolution is inalien- able. As matter of fact it was to might and revolution the Soiith appealed in 1861 ; and it was to coercion the government of the Union had recourse. So with his su- preme good sense and that political insight at once in- stinctive and unerring, in respect to which he stands almost alone, Washington foresaw this alternative in 1798. He looked u])on the doctrine of secession as a heresy : but. none the less, it was a heresy then preached, and to which many, not in \ irginia only hut in New England also, pinned their political faith. Even the Devil is pi-o- verbially entitled to his due. So far, however, as the abstract cpiestion is of conse- quence, as the utterances of Prof. Smith and Mr. Lod^-c conclusively show, the Secessionists of 1861 stand in his- tory's court by no means without a case. In that ease. moreover, they implicitly believed. From generation to generation they had grown up indoctrinated with the gospel. or heresy, of State Sovereignty, and it was as much part of their moral and intellectiud being as was clanship of the Scotch highlanders. In so far they were right, as Governor John A. Andrew said of John Brown. Meanwhile, prac- tically, as a commoii-seused man, leading an every day ex- istence in a world of actualities, John Brown was not right : he was, on the contrary, altogether wrong, and richly merited the fate meted out to him. It was the same with the Secessionists. That, in 1861, they could reallv have had faith in the practicability, — the real working efficiency, — of that peaceable secession which they pro- fessed to ask for, and of which they never wearied of talking, I cannot believe. I find in the record no real evi0 whether they, in 1787. contemplated a Nation or only a uioi'e com})act federation of Sovereign States ? Kealitit^s have an unpleasant way of asserting their existence. How- ever it may have been in 1788, in 1860 a Nation had grown into existence. Its i)eaceful dismemberment was im- possible. The complex system of tissues and ligaments, the growth of seventy years, could not be gently taken apart, without woiuid or hurt : the separation, if sepa- lation there was to l)e, involved a tearing asunder, su})ple- nienting a liberal use of the knife. Their professions to the contrary notwithstanding, this the Southern leaders failed not to realize. In point of fact, therefore, believing fully in the abstract legality of secession, and the justice and sufficiency of the grounds on which they acted, theii- appeal was to the inalienable right of revolution; and to that nn'ght l)V which alone the right could be upheld. Let us )>ut casuistry. meta})hysics and sentiment aside, and come to actualities. The secessionist recourse in -ISGl was to the sword: and to the sword it was meant to have recourse. 18 I have thus far spoken only of the South as a whole. Much has been said and written on the subject of an al- leged conspiracy in those days of Southern men and leaders against the Union : of the designs and ultimate objects of the alleged conspirators : of acts of treachery on their part, and the part of their accomplices, towards the government, of which they were the sworn officials. Into this phase of the subject I do not propose to enter. , That the lead- ers in Secession were men with large views, and that they had matured a comprehensive policy as the ultimate outcome of their movement, I entertain no doubt. They looked unquestionably to an easy military success, and the complete establishment of their Confederacy ; more remotely, there can be no question they contemplated a policy of extension, and the estaVdishment along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico and in the Antilles of a great semi-tropical, slave-labor republic ; finally, all my investigations have tended to satisfy, me that they confidently anticipated an early disintegration of the Union, and the accession of the bulk of the Northern States to the Confederacy, New England only being sternly excluded therefrom — '' sloughed off," as they expressed it. The capital of the new Confederacy was to be Washington ; African servitude, luider reasonable limitations, was to be recognized through- out its limits ; agriculture was to be its ruling interest, with a tariff and foreign policy in strict accord there \\dth. *' Secession is not intended to break up the present gov- ernment, but to perpetuate it. We go out of the Union, not to destroy it, but for the purpose of getting further guarantees and security,'" — this was said in January, 1861; and this in 1900 — "-And so we believe that, with the success of the South, the ' Union of the Fathers,' which the South was the principal factor in forming, and to which she was far more attached than the North, \\'Ould have been restored and re-established : that in this Union, the South would have been again the dominant people. 19 the controlling power." Conceding the necessary premises of fact and law, — a somewhat considerable concession, but, perhaps, conceivable, — conceding these, I see in this po- sition, then or now, nothing illogical, nothing provocative of severe criticism, certainly nothing treasonable. Acting on sufficient grounds, of which those thus acting were tlie sole judge, proceeding in a way indisputably legal and reg- ular, it was proposed to reconstruct the Union in the light of experience, and on a new, and, as they considered, an improved basis, without New England. This cannot prop- erly be termed a conspiracy ; it was a legitimate policy based on certain assumed data legal, moral and economi- cal. But it was in reality never for a moment believed that this programme could be peaceably and quietly carried into effect ; and the assent of New England to the ar- rangement was neither asked for, assumed nor expected. New England was distinctly relegated to an outer void, — at once cold, dark, inhospitable. As to participation of those who sympathized in these views and this policy in the councils of the government, so furthering schemes for its overthrow while sworn to its support, I hold it unnecessary to speak. Such were traitors. As such, had they met their deserts, they should at the proper time and on due process of law, have been arrested, tried, convicted, sentenced and hanged. That in 7 7 7 ^ certain well-remembered instances this course was not pur- sued, is, to my mind, even yet much to be deplored. In such cases clemency is only another form of cant. Having now discussed what have seemed to me the necessary preliminaries, I come to the particular cases of Virginia and Robert E. Lee. The two are closely interwoven, — for Virginia was always Virginia, and the Lees were, first, over and above all, Virginians. It was the Duke 'f Wellington who, on a certain memorable occasion, in- dignantly remarked in his delightful French- English — " Mais avant tout je suis gentilhonune Anglais.'' So might 'lave said the Lees of Viru'inia of themselves. 20 As respects Virginia, moreover. 1 am fain to say there was in the attitude of the State towards the Confederacy, and, indeed, in its bearing throughout the Civil War. something which appealed strongly, — something unselfish and chivalric, — worthy of Virginia's highest record. His- tory will, I think, do justice to it, Virginia, it must be remembered, while a Slave State was not a Cotton State. This was a distinction implying a differencje. In Virginia the institution of slavery existed, and because of it she was in close sympathy with her sister Slave States : but, while in the (^otton States slavery had gradually assumed a purely material form, in Virginia it still retained much of its patriarchal character. The slave there was not a mere transferable chattel ; practically, and to a large extent, he was attached to the house and the soil. This fact had a direct l>earing on the moral issue : for slavery was one thing in Virginia, (juite another in Louisiana. The Vii- ginian pride was moreover proverbial. Indeed, I doubt if local feeling and patriotism and devotion to the State ever anywhere attained a higher development than in the community which dwelt in the region watered by the Potomac and the James, of which Riclmiond was the political centre. We of the North, especially we of New England, were Yankees : but a Virgininan was that, and nothing else. I have heard of a New Engiander, of a Green Mountain boy, of a Rhode Islander, of a '• Nutmeg,"' of a '• Blue-nose "* even, l)ut never of a Massachusettensian. The word somehow does not lend itself to the mouth, any more than the thought to the mind. But Virginia was strongly attached by sentiment as well as interest to the Union. The Inrth-place of Washington, the mother of States, as well as of Presidents, •* The Old Dominion." as she was i-alled, and fondly loved to call herself, had never been affected by the nullification here- sies of South Carolina ; and the long line of her eminent public men. though, in 1860. sliowing marked signs of a 21 deterioratinj;' standard, still retained a prominence in the national eouncils. If fJohn 15. Floyd was Seci'etary of the Interior. Winfield Seott was at the head of the Army. Torn by conflicting feelings, Virginia still held to the Na- tion, nnwilling to sever her connection with it hecanse of the lawfnl election of an anti-slavery President, even by a distinctly sectional vote. For a time she even stayed the fast flooding tide of secession. l)ringing about a brief l)ut important reaction. Those of us old enough to remember the drear and anxious Winter which followed the election and precedeil the inauguration of Lincoln, recall vividly the rav of bright hope which, in the midst of its deepest gloom, then came from Virginia. It was in early February. Up to that time the record was unbroken. Beginning with South Carolina on the 20th of Deceml)er, State after State, meeting in convention, had with signifi(!ant unanimity passed ordinances of secession. Each successive ordinance was felt to be the equivalent to a renewed declaration of war. The outlook was dark indeed ; and. amid the fast gathering gloom, all eyes, all thoughts, turned to Virginia. She represented what were known as the Border States, her at'tion it was felt would largely influence, and might control, theirs. John Letcher was then Governor of Virginia, — a States Rights Democrat, of course ; but a Union man. By him the legislature of the State was in December called together in special session, and that legislature passed what was known as a convention bill. Practically Vir- ginia was to vote on the question at issue. Events moved rapidly. South Carolina had seceded on tlie 20th of De- cember : Mississippi on the 8th of January: Alabama and Florida only three days later on the 11th; Georgia followed on the 19th ; Louisiana on the 2Gth, with Texas on the 1st of February. The procession seemed unending ; the record unbioken. Not without cause might the now thoroughly frighten«'(l friends of the Union have exclaimed with Macbeth — 22 *' What ! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom ? Another yet? A seventh?" If at that juncture the Old Dommion by a decisive vote had followed in the steps of the Cotton States it im- plied censequences which no man could fathom. It involved the possession of the national capitol, and the continuance of the Government. Maryland would inevitably follow the Virginian lead ; the recently elected President had not yet been inaugurated ; taken wholly by surprise, the North was divided in sentiment : the loyal spirit of the country was not aroused. It was thus an even question whether, on the 4th of March, the whole machinery of the de facto government would not be in the hands of the revolutionists. All depended on Virginia. This is now forgotten ; none the less, it is history. The Virginia election was held on the 4th of February, the news of the secession of Texas — seventh in the line — having been received on the 2nd. Evidently, the action of Texas was carefidly timed for effect. Though over forty years ago, I well remember that day, — gi'ay, over- cast, wintry, — which succeeded the Virginia election. Then living in Boston, a young man of twenty-five, 1 shared, — as who- did not ? — in the common deep depression and intense anxiety. It was as if a verdict was to be that day announced in a case invoKang fortune, honor, life even. Too harassed for work, I remember leaving my office in the afternoon to seek relief in physical activity, for the ponds in the vicinity of Boston were ice-covered and daily' thronged with skaters. I was soon among the number, gloomily seeking unfrequented spots. Suddenly I became aware of an unusual movement in the throng nearest the shoi'e, whei-e those fresh from the city arrived. The skaters seemed crowding to a common point : and a moment later they scattered again, with cheers and ges- tures of relief. An arrival fresh from Boston had brought the first bulletin of yesterday's election. Virginia, speaking 23 against secession, had emitted no uncei'tain sound. It was as if a weiglit had been taken off the mind of everyone. The tide seemed turned at last. F'or myself, I remember my feelings were too deep to find expression in words or sound. Something stuek in my throat. I wanted to l>e by myself. Nor did we over-estimate the importance of the event. If it did not in the end mean reaction, it did mean time gained : and time then, as the result showed, was vital. As AVilliam H. Seward, representing the President-elect in Washington, wrote during those days : — '"• The people of the District are looking anxiously for the result of the Virginia election. They fear if Virginia resolves on sect's- sion, Maryland will follow : and then Washington w ill be seized. *** The election tomorrow ])robably determines whether all the Slave States will take the attitude of disunion. Everybody around nic thinks that that will make the separation irretrievable, and involve us in fla- grant civil war. Practically everybody will despair." A day or two later the news canu^ •• like a gleam of sun- shine in a storm." The disunion movement was checked, perhaps would be checkmated. Well might Seward, with a sigh of profound relief, write to his wife : — "-At least. the danger of conflict, here or elsewhere, before the 4th of March, has been averted. Time has been gained." * Time was gained : and the few weeks of precious time thus gained thiough the expiring effi^rt of union sentiment in Virginia involved the vital fact t>f tlu- peaceful delivery four weeks later, of the helm of state into the hands of Lincoln. Thus, be it always remembered. Virginia did not U\kv its plaice in the secession movement bei-ause of the election of an anti-slavery president. It did not raise its hand against the national government from mere love of any ])c- culiar institution, or a wish to jn-otect and to perix-tuatr it. *Sewiir(1 (it ]\'<(i. .")rty years. Not a jilanter, he held no broad acres and owned no slaves. Essentially a soldier, he was a citizen of the United Stat(^s : and. for twenty years, had been the (xeneral in command of its army. When, in April. 1861. Virginia passed its oi- 28 (linance of secession, he was well advanced in his seventy- fifth year, — an old man, he was no longer equal to active service. The course he would pursue was thus largely luai'ked out for him in advance ; a violent effort on his part could alone have forced him out of his trod- den path. When subjected to the test, what he did was infinitely credital)le to him, and the obligation the cause of the Union lay under to him during the critical period between December, 1860, and June, 1861, can scarcely be overstated ; but, none the less, in doing as he did, it cannot be denied he followed what was foi' him the line of least resistance. Of George Henry Thomas, no American, North or South, — above all, no American who served in the Civil War, — whether wearer of the blue or the gray, — can speak, save with infinite respect, — always with admiration, often with love. Than his, no i-ecord is clearer from stain. Thomas also was a Virginian. At the time of the break- ing-out of the Civil War, he held the lank of Majoi- in that regiment of cavalry of which Lee, nine years his senior in age, was Colonel. He never hesitated in his course. True to the flag from start to finish. Wil- liam T. Sherman, then General of the Army, in the order announcing the death of his friend and class-mate at the Academy, most pro^ierly said of liim : "■' The very impersonation of honesty, integrity and honor, he will stand to posterity as the heau ideal of the soldier and gentleman. " More tersely, Thomas stands for character personified. Washington himself not more so. And now having said this, let iis come again to the choice of Hercules, — the parting of those terrible ways of 1861. Like Scott and Lee, Thomas was a Virginian ; but, again, there are Virginians and Virginians. Thomas was not a Lee. When, in 1855, the second United States cavalry was organized. Jefferson Davis being Secretaiy of War, Captain Thomas, as he then was and in his thirty- 29 ninth yeai-. was ap})ointt'(l its junior Major. Between that time and April, 180 1. tifty-one officers ai-e said to have home commissions in that regiment, thirty-one of whom were from the South : and of those thirty-one, no less than twenty-four entered the Confederate sei-vice, twelve of whom, among them Robert E. Lee, Albert Sidney Johnston and John B. Hood, became General officers. The name of the Virginian, (ieorge H. Thomas, stands first of the faithful seven : but. Union or Confederate, it is a record of great names, and fortunate is the people, great of necessity their destiny, w^hich in the hour of exigency, on the one side or the other, naturally develops from the roster of a single regiment men of the ability, the disinterestedness, the cajjacity and tlie ohai'aeter of Lee, Thomas, Johnson and Hood. It is a record which in- spires confidence as well as pride. And now of the two men — Thomas and Lee. Though born in Virginia, (ren. Thomas was not of a peculiarly Virginian descent. By ancestiy% he was, ou the father's side, Welsh ; P^reneh on ^ that of the mother. He was not of the old Virginia stock. Born in the southeastern ])ortit)n of the State, near the North Carolina line, we are told that his family, dwelling on a "• goodly home prop- erty," was •' well to do '" and eminently •' respectable "" : but, it is added, there ''• were no cavaliers in the Thomas family, and not tlie remotest trace of the Pocahontas blood. " When the war l^roke out, in 18til, Thomas had been twenty-one years a commissioned officer ; and during those years he seems to have lived almost everywhere, except in Virginia. It luul been a life at military stations : his wife was from New York : his home was on the I ludson rather than on the Nottoway. In his native State h(; owned no pro))erty, land or chattels. Essentially a soldier, when the hour for choice came, the soldier dom- inated the Virginian. He stood l)y the flag. Not so Lee : for to Lee I now come. Of liim it mi^ht. 80 and in justice must, be said, that he was more than of the essence, he was of the very quintessence of Vir- ginia. In his case, the roots and fibres struck down and spread wide in the soil, making him of it a part. A son of the revolutionary "Light Horse Harry," he had married a Custis. His children represented all there was of descent, blood and tradition of the Old Dominion, made up as the Old Dominion was of tradition, blood and descent. The holder of broad patrimonial acres, by birth and marriage he was a slave-owner, and a slave-owner of the patriarchal type, holding " slavery as an institution, a moral and political e^dl." Every sentiment, every memory, every tie conceivable boiind him to Virginia ; and, when the choice was forced upon him, — had to be made, — sacri- ficing rank, career, the flag, he threw in his lot with Vir- ginia. He did so, with open eyes and weighing the eonsequences. He at least indulged in no self-deception — wandered away from the path in no cloud of political metaphysics, — nourished no delusion as to an early and easy triumph. " Secession," as he wrote to his son, " is nothing ])ut revolution. The framers of our Constitution never ex- hausted so nuich labor, wisdom and forbearance in its for- mation, and surrounded it with so many guards and securities, if it was intended to be broken by every member of the confederacy at will. It is idle to talk of secession." I^ut he also believed that his permanent allegiance was ilue to Virginia ; that her secession, though revolutionary, l>ound all Virginians and ended their connection with and duties to the national government. Thereafter, to remain in the United States army would be treason to Virginia. So, two days after Virginia passed its ordinance, he, being then at Arlington, resigned his commission, at the same time writing to his sister, the wife of a Union officer, — •• We are now in a state of war which will yield to nothing. The whole South is in a state of revolution, into i-ihich Virginia, after a long struggle, has been drawn ; 31 and, though I recognize no necessity for this state of things, and would have foreborne and pleaded to the end for redress of grievances, real or su})posed, yet in my own person I had to meet the question whether I should take part against my native State. AVith all my devotion to the Union, and the feeling of loyalty and duty of an American citizen, I have not been able to make up my mind to raise my hand against my relatives, my children, my home. I have, therefore, resigned my commission in the army ; and, save in defense of my native State, I (jope I may never be called on to draw my sword." Two days before he had been unreservedly tendered, on behalf of President Lincoln, the command of the Union army then immediately to be put in the field in front of Wash- Jngton, — the command shortly afterwards held by General McDowell. So thought and spoke and wrote and acted Robert E. Lee in April, 1861. He has, for the decision thus reached, •'been termed by some a traitor, a deserter, almost an apostate, and consigned to the " avenging pen of His- tory." I cannot so see it ; I am confident posterity ^^^ll ruot so see it. The name and conditions being changed, those who uttered the words of censure, invoking -'• the uvenging pen," did not so see it — have not seen it so. Let us appeal to the record. What otherwise did George Washington do under circumstances not dissimilar? What would he have done under circumstances wholly similar? I^ike Lee, Washington was a soldier : like Lee, he was a Virginian before he was a soldier. He had served under King "xeorge's flag: he had sworn allegiance to King George; his ambition had been to hold the royal connnission. Presently Virginia seceded from the British empire, — re- nounced its allegiance. What did Washington do ? Ho threw in his lot with his native province. Do you hold isim then to have been a traitor, — to have been false to ms colors ? Such is not vour verdict : such has not been 32 the verdict of liistoiy. He acted conscientiou.sly. loyally, as a son of Virginia, and according- to liis lights. Will you say that Lee did otherwise ? Bnt men love to differentiate : and of drawing of distinc- tions there is no end. The cases were different, it will l)e argued : at the time Virginia renoimced its allegiance Washington did not hold the King's commission, indeed he never held it. As a soldier he was a provincial always. — he bore a Virginian commission, True I Let the dis- tinction he conceded ; then assume that the darling wish of his younger heart had hcen granted to him, and that he had received the King's commission, and held it in 1775 ; — what course would he then have pursued V What course would you wish him to have pursued? Do you not wish. — do you not know, — that, circumstanced as then he would have been, he would have done exactly as Robert E. Lee did eighty-six years later. He would tii-st have resigned his commission : and then arrayed himself on the side of Virginia. Would you have had him do otherwise ? And so it goes in this world. In sucla cases the usual form of speech is : '•^ (^h I that is different I Another case alto- gether I '" Yes, it is different : it is another case. For it makes all the difference in the woi-ld with a man \\'ho argues thus, whether it is his ox that is gored or that of the other man I And here in preparing this address I must fairly acknowledge having encountered an ()l)stacde in my path also. When considering the courwe of another, it is always well to ask one's self the (juestion — What woidd you yourself have done if similarly placed ? Warmed by my argiunent, and the great precedents of Lee and of Wash- ington, 1 did so here. 1 and mine were and are at least as much identified with Massachusetts as was Lee and his with Virginia : — traditionally, historically, by blood and memory and name, we with the Puritan Common- wealth as they with the Old Dominion. What, I asked 33 myself, would I have done had Massachusetts at any time arrayed itself against the eommon countiy, though with- out my sympathy and assent, even as Virginia arrayed it- self against the l^nion without the sympathy and assent of Lee in 1861? The (|uestion gave me i)ause. And then I must confess to a sense of the humor of the situation coming over me, as ] found it answered to my hand. The case had already arisen : the answer had heen given ; nor had it lieeu given in any uncertain tone. The dark and disloyal days of the earlier years of the cent- ury just ended rose in memory, — the days of the Em- bargo, the Loopard and the Chexajicake, and of the Hartford Convention. The course then taken by those in political contiol in Massachusetts is recorded in history. It verged dangerously close on that pursued by Virginia and the South fifty years later : and the (juarrel then was foreign ; it was no domestic l)roil. One of my name, from whom I claim descent, was then prominent in pub- lic life.-' He accordingly was called upon to make the choice of Hercules, as later was Lee. He made liis choice : and it was for the (common country as against his section. The result is matter of history. Because he was a LTnion man and held country higher than State or })arty, John (^uincy Adams was in 1808 driven from office, a successor to him in the United States Senate was elected long before the expiration of his term, and he himself was forced into what at the time was regarded as an honorable exile. Nor was the line of conduct then by him pursued, — that of unswerving loyalty to the Union. — ever forgotten or wholly forgiven. He liad })ut country above party ; and party leaders have long memories. Even so broad-minded and clear-thinking a man as Theodore Parker, when delivering a eulogy upon ,1. (^. Adams, forty years later, thus ex])ressed himself of this act of supreme self-sacrifice and loyalty to Nation ratliei- than to State : — " To mv mind, that is the woi'st act of his u public life ; I cannot justify it. I wish I could find some reasonable excuse for it. '*** However, it must be con- fessed that this, though not the only instance of injustice, is the only case of servile compliance with the Executive to be found in the whole life of the man. It was a grievous fault but grievously did he answer it ; and if a long life of unfaltering resistance to every attempt at the assumption of power is fit atonement, then the expiation was abun- dantly made." * What more, or worse, on the other side, could be said of Lee ? Perhaps I shoidd enter some plea in excuse of this diversion : but, for me, it may explain itself, or go un- explained. Confronted with the question what would I have done in 1861 had positions been reversed and Mas- sachusetts taken the course then taken by Virginia, I found the answer already recorded I would have gone with the Union, and against Massachusetts. None the less, I hold Massachusetts estopped in the case of Lee. '^ Let /the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung"; but,..^I submit, however it might be with me or mine, it "does not lie in the mouths of the descendants of the New England Federalists of the first two decennials of the nineteenth century to invoke '' the avenging pen of History" to record an adverse verdict in the case of any son of Virginia who threw in his lot with his State in 1861^ ^^I'hus much for the choice of Hercules. Pass on to what followed. Of Robert E. Lee as the commander of the Army of Northern Virginia, — at once the buckler and the sword of the Confederacy, — I shall say few words. I was in the ranks of those opposed to him. For years I was face to face with some fragment of the Army of Northern Virginia, and intent to do it harm ; and during those years there was not a day when I would not have * Wvrks (Loudon, I8O0) vol. iv., pp. 1-34-156. 35 drawn a deep breath of relief and satisfaction at hearing of the death of Lee, even as I did draw it at hearing of the death of Jackson. But now, looking back through a I perspective of nearly forty years, I glory in it, and in / them as foes, — they were worthy of the best of steel. / I am proud now to say that I was their countryniaif Whatever differences of opinion may exist as to the course of Lee when his choice was made, of Lee as a foe and the , commander of an army, but one opinion can be entertained. Every inch a soldier, he was as an opponent not less generous and humane than formidable, a type of highest martial character ; — cavitious, magnanimous and bold, a very thunderbolt in war, he was self-contained in \nctory, but greatest in defeat. To that escutcheon attaches no stain. I now come to what I have always regarded, — shall ever regard, — as the most creditable episode in all Amer- ican history, — an episode without a blemish, — imposing, dignified, simple, heroic. I refer to Appomattox. Two men met that day, representative of American civilization, the whole world looking on. The two were Grant and Lee, — types each. Both rose, and rose unconsciously, to the full height of the occasion, — and than that occasion there has been none greater. About it, and them, there was no theatrical display, no self-consciousness, no effort at eff'ect. A great crisis was to be met ; and they met that crisis as great countrymen should. Consider the possibilities ; think for a moment of what that day might have been ; — you will then see cause to thank God for much. That month of April saw the close of exactly four years of persistent strife, — a strife which the whole civil- ized world had been watching intently. Democracy, — the capacity of man in his present stage of development for self-government, — was believed to be on trial. The \vish the father to the thought, the prophets of evil had been liberal in prediction. It so chances that my attention 36 has been .specially drav/n to the European xitteiances of that time : and, read in the clear light of subsequent history, I use words of moderation when I say that they ai'e now both inconceivable and ludicrous. Staid journals, grave public men, seemed to take what was little less than pleasure in pronouncing that impossible of occurrence which was destined soon to occur, and in ctommitting themselves to readings of the book of fate in exact op- position to what the muse of history was wetting the pen to record. Volumes of unmerited abuse and false vaticination, — and volumes hardly less amusing now than instructive, — could be garnered from the columns of the London Times, — volumes in which the spirit of contemptu- ous and patr(mizing dislike sought expression in the pro- foundest ignorance of facts, set down in bitterest words. Not only were republican institutions and mans capacity for self-government on trial, but the severest of sentences was imposed in advance of the adverse verdict, assumed to be inevitable. Then, suddenly, came the dramatic cli- max at Appomattox, — dramatic, I say. not theatrical, — severe in its simple, sober, matter-of-fact nuijesty. The world, I again assert, has seen nothing like it ; and the world, instinctively, was conscious of the fact. I like to dwell on the familial- circumstances of the day ; on its momentous outcome : on its far-reaching lesults. It affords one of the greatest educational object-lessons to be found in history ; and the actors were worthy of the theatre, the auditory and the play. A mighty tragedy was drawing to a close. The breath- less world was the audience. It was a bright balmy April Sunday in a quiet Virginia landscape, with two veteran armies confronting each othei- : one. game to the death, completely in the grasp of the othei'. The future was at stake. What might ensue? What might not ensue? Woidd the strife end then and there? Would it die in a death grapple, ojily to rea})pear in that chronic foi-m of a 37 vanquished Imt iiuloinitahle people writhing and struggling in the grasp of an insatiate but only nominal victor? Such a struggle as all European authorities united in con- fidently predicting ? Tlie answer depended on two men, — the captains of the contending forces. Grant that day had Lee at his mercy. He had but to close his hand, and his opponent was crushed. Think what then might have resulted iuul those two men been other than they were, — had the one been stern and aggressive, the other sullen and unyielding. Most fortunately for us, they were what and who they were — Grant and Lee. More, I need not, could not say : — this only let me add, — a people has good right to be proud of the past and self-contident of its future when on so great an occasion it naturally develops at the front men who meet each other as those two met each other then. Of the two, I know not to which to award the palm. In- stinctively, unconsciously, they vied not unsuccessfully each with thy other, in dignity, nuignanimity, simplicity. •' Si fVactiis illabutur urbi? IiiipaviiUini t'erieiit niiua-." With a home no longer his, Lee then slieathed his sword. With the silent dignity of his subsequent life, after he thus accepted defeat, all are familiar. He left behind him no querulous memoirs, no exculpatory vindi- cation, no controversial utterances. For him, history might explain itself, — posterity formulate its own verdict. Sur- viving Api)omattox but a little more than five years, those years were not unmarked by incidents very gratifying to American recollection ; for we Americans do, I think, above all things love magnanimity, and appx-eciate action at once fearless and generous. We all remember how by the grim mockery of fate, — as if to test to the uttermost American capacity for self-government, — Abrahaiu Lincoln .38 was snatched away at the moment of crisis from the helm of state, and Andrew »Johnson substituted for him. I think it no doubtful anticipation of historical judgment to say that a more unfortunate selection could not well have been made. In no single respect, it is safe to say, was Andrew Johnson adapted for the peculiar duties which Booth's pistol imposed upon him. One of Johnson's most unhappy, most ill-considered convictions was that our Civil War was a conventional old-time rebellion ; — that rebellion was treason : — that treason was a crime ; and that a crime was something for which punishment should in due cour.se of law be meted oiit. He, therefore, wanted, or thought he wanted, to liave the scenes of England's Convention Parliament and the Restoration of 1660 re-enacted here, as a fitting sequel of our great conflict. Most fortiuiately, the American people then gave evidence to Europe of a capacity for self-restraint and self-government not traceable to English parentage, or precedents. No Cromwell's head grinned from our Westminster Hall: no convicted traitor swung in chains : no shambles dripped in blood. None the less Andrew Johnson called for '' indictments," and one day demanded that of Lee. Then outspoke Grant, — Gen- eral of the Army. Lee, he declared, was his prisoner. He had surrendered to him, and in reliance on his woi'd. He had leceived assurance that so long as he quietly remained at his home, and did not offend against the law, he should not be molested. He had done so, and, so long as Grant held his commission, molested he should not be. Needless, as pleasant, to say what Grant then grindy in- timated did not take place. Lee was not molested; nor did the Geneial of the Army indignantly fling his com- mission at an accidental Presidents feet. That, if necessary, he would have done so, I take to be quite indubitable. Of Lee's subsequent life, as head of Washington College, I have but one anecdote to offer. I believe it to be typical. A few months ago I received a letter from a retired army 39 officer of hion him the unity of the Nation, and urging him to devote himself loyally to maintain the integrity and the honor of the United States. The kindly paternal advice thus given was, 1 imagine, typical of his whole jxjsf hcllmn life." Let this one anecdote suffice. Here was magna- nimity, philosoph3\ true patriotism : the })ui'e American spirit. Accepting the situation loyally and in a manlv. silent way, — without self-consciousness or mental reserva- tion, he sought by precept and yet more by a great ex- ample, to build up the shattered community of which lie was the most observed representative in accordance with the new conditions imposed by fate, and through consti- tutional ai'tion. Talk of traitors and of treason I The man who pursued that course and instilled that spirit had not, could not have had, in his whole being one drop of traitors blood or conceived a treacherous thought. His lights mav have been wronji:, — accordineneath their thundering hoofs, — what descendant of any Englishman who there met his end. but with pride would read the name of Nasliy on his regimental flag? What Frendunau would consent to the erasure of Ivry or Moncontoiu- ".' Thus in all these matters. Time is the great nuigiciaii. It both mellows and transforms. The Englishman of to- day does not apply to Cromwell the standard of loyalty or treason, of right and wrong, applied after the Restoi'ation : nor again does the twentieth century confirm the nine- teenth's verdicts. Even slavery we may come to regard as a phase, pardoiud)le as passing, ifi the evolution of a race. ' I hold it will certainly l)e so with our CHvil War. The year 1965 will look upon its causes, its incidents and its men with different eyes from those with which we see them now. — eyes wholly different from those with which we saw forty years ago. They, — foi* we by that time will have rejoined the generation to which we be- longed, — - will recognize the somewhat essential fact, in- dubitably true, that all the honest con^dction, all the loyalty, all the patriotic devotion and self-sacrifice were not then, any more than all the courage, on the victor's side. 48 True ! the moral right, the spirit of nationality, tin? sacred caiise of humanity even, were on our side : l>ut, among those opposed, and who in the end went down, were men not less sincere, not less devoted, not less tiuly patriotic according to their lights than he who among us was first in all those qualities. Men of whom it was and is a cause of pride and confidence to say — '' They too were countrymen I '" Typical of those ' men, — most typical, — was Lee. He represented, individualized, all that was highest and best in the Southern mind and the Confederate cause, — the loyalty to State, the keen sense of honoi' and personal obligation, the slightly archaic, the almost patriarchal, love of dependent, family and home. As I have moie than once said, he was a Virginian of the Virginians. He represents a type which is gone, — hardly less extinct than that of the great English nobleman of the feudal times, or the ideal head of the Scotch clan of a later period : but just so long as men admire courage, devotion, patriot- ism, the high sense of duty and personal honor, — all in a word which go to make up what we know as Charac- ter, — just so long will that type of man be held in affectionate, reverential memory. They have in them all the elements of the heroic. As Carlyle wrote more than half a century ago, so now — '' Whom do you wish to resemble ? Him you set on a high column. Who is to have a statue ? means. Whom shall we consecrate and set apart as one of our sacred men ? Sacred : that all men may see him. V)e reminded of him, and. by new example added to old j)ei'petual precept, be taught what is real worth in man. Show me the man you honor : I know by that symptom, better than by any othei-. what kind of man you yourself are. For you show me there what your ideal of manhood is : what kind of man you long inexpressibly to be, and would thank the gods, witli your whole soul, for being if you could." •44 Tt is all a question of time : and the time is, probably, not quite yet. The wounds of the gi-eat War are not altogether healed, its personal memories are still fresh, its passions not wholly allayed. It would, indeed, be a wonder if they were. But, 1 am as convinced as an un- illumined man can be of anything future, that when such time does come, a justice not done now, will be done to those descendants of Washington, of Jefferson, of Rutledge, and of Lee who stood opposed to us in a succeeding generation. That the national spirit is now supreme and the nation cemented, I hold to be unquestionable. That property in man has vanished from the civilized world, is due to our Civil War. The two are worth the great price then paid for them. But wrong as he may have been., and as he was proved by events in these respects, the Confederate had many great and generous qualities ; he also was brave, chivalrous, self-sacrificing, sincere and patriotic. So I look forward with confidence to the time when they too will be i'e})resented in our national pantheon. Then the query will be answered here, as the query in regard to Cromwell's statue put sixty years ago has re- cently been answered in England. The bronze effigy of Kobert E. Lee. mounted on his chai"ger and with the in- signia of his Confederate rank, will from its pedestal in the nation's capitol look across the Potomac at his old home at Arlington, even as that of Cromwell dominates the yard of Westminster upon which his skiUl once looked down. When that time comes, Lee's monument will be educational. — it will typify the historical appreciation of all that goes t