The Life, Public Services and Select Speeches of Rutherford B. Hayes

by J. Q. Howard

"Defeat, debt, taxation, sepulchers—these are your trophies. Can you get men to enlist now at any price?"

Listen again to the words that were sent to the army and to the loyal people:

"Ah, sir, it is easier to die at home."

We knew that, Judge Thurman, better than Mr. Vallandigham knew it. We had seen our comrades falling and dying alone on the mountain side and in the swamps—dying in the prison-pens of the Confederacy and in the crowded hospitals, North and South. Yet he had the face to stand up in Congress, and say to the people and the world, "Ah, sir, it is easier to die at home." Judge Thurman, where are you at this time? He goes to Columbus to the State convention, on the 11th of June of that year, in all the capacities in which I have named him—as a delegate, as committeeman, and as an orator—and he spends that whole summer in advocating the election of the man who taunted us with the words, "Defeat, debt, taxation, sepulchers—these are your trophies."

In every canvass you know there is a key-note. What was the key-note of that canvass? Who sounded it? It came over to us from Canada. On the 15th of July, 1863, Mr. Vallandigham wrote, accepting the nomination of that convention of Judge Thurman's. He said, in his letter:

"If this civil war is to terminate only by the subjugation or submission of the South to force and arms, the infant of to-day will not live to see the end of it. No; in another way only can it be brought to a close. Traveling a thousand miles and more, through nearly half of the Confederate States, and sojourning for a time at widely different points, I met not one man, woman, or child who was not resolved to perish, rather than yield to the pressure of arms, even in the most desperate extremity. And whatever may and must be the varying fortune of the war, in all of which I recognize the hand of Providence pointing visibly to the ultimate issue of this great trial of the States and people of America, they are better prepared now, every way, to make good their inexorable purpose than at any period since the beginning of the struggle."

That was the key-note of the campaign. It was the platform of the candidate in behalf of whom Judge Thurman went through the State of Ohio—all over the State—in July, August, and September, up to the night of the 12th of October—making his last speech just twenty-four hours before the glad news went out to all the world, over the wires, that the people of Ohio had elected John Brough by over one hundred thousand majority, in preference to the author of the sentiment, "Defeat, debt, taxation, sepulchers."

And how true was that sentiment which had been endorsed by the peace party. I do not question the motives of men in any of my speeches. I merely ask as to the facts. "Better prepared," said he, "than ever before," on the 15th of July. On that theory, they went through the canvass to the end. What was the fact? On the 15th of July, 1863, Grant had captured Vicksburg. That gallant, glorious son of Ohio, who perished afterward in the Atlanta campaign, and whose honored remains now sleep near his old home on the lake shore, General James B. McPherson, on the 4th of July, had ridden at the head of a triumphant host into Vicksburg. On the 7th of July, Banks had captured Port Hudson. A few days afterward, a party of serenaders, calling upon Mr. Lincoln, saw that good man, who had been bowed down with the weight and cares of office; they saw his haggard face lit up with joy and cheer, and he said to them: "At last, Grant is in Vicksburg. The Father of Waters, the Mississippi, again flows unvexed to the sea."

On the 15th of July, what else had happened? The army of Lee, defiantly crowding up into Pennsylvania, and claiming to go where it pleased, and take what it pleased, only doubting whether they would first capture Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, or New York, and concluding finally that it was a matter of military strategy first to capture the Army of the Potomac—that army, which had invaded Pennsylvania under such flattering auspices, was, on the 15th of July, when Mr. Vallandigham's letter was written, straggling back over the swollen waters of the Potomac, glad to escape from the pursuing armies of the Union, with the loss of thirty thousand of its bravest and best, killed, wounded, and captured, and utterly unable ever after during the war to set foot upon free soil except in such fragments as were captured by our armies in subsequent battles. That was the condition of the two great armies when Mr. Vallandigham uttered that sentiment; and on that sentiment my friend, Judge Thurman, argued his case through all that summer.

But wisdom was not learned even at the close of 1863 by this peace party. Things were greatly changed in the estimation of every loyal man. We had now not merely got possession of the Mississippi river—we had not merely driven the army of Lee out of Pennsylvania, never again to return, but the battle of Mission Ridge and the battle of Knoxville had been fought. That important strategic region, East Tennessee, was now within our lines. From that abode of loyalty, the mountain region of East Tennessee, we could pierce to the very heart of the Southern Confederacy. We were now in possession of the interior lines, giving us an immense advantage, and we were in a condition to march southeast to Atlanta and northeast to Richmond; yet with this changed state of affairs, where is my friend Judge Thurman? Advising the people? What is he advising them to do? He says Allen G. Thurman was a private citizen. Not so. He held no official position, I know, under the government. Fortunately for the people of this country, they were not giving official positions in Ohio to men of his opinions and sentiments at that time. [A voice, "They won't now, either.">[ But he was made delegate at large from the State of Ohio to the convention to meet at Chicago to nominate a president and form a platform on which that nominee should stand. Mr. Vallandigham was a district delegate and one of the committee to form a platform, and he drew the most important resolution. The principal plank of that platform is of his construction. You are perfectly familiar with it. It merely told the people that the war had been for four years a failure, and advised them to prepare to negotiate with this Confederate nation on our Southern borders. Well, when this advice was given to the Nation, we were still in the midst of the war, and were prosecuting it with every prospect of success. What had been accomplished in 1863 enabled us, with great advantages, to press upon the rebellion. I remember well when I first read that resolution declaring the war a four years' failure. It came to the army in which I was serving on the same day that the news came to us that Sherman had captured Atlanta. We heard of both together. The war a four years' failure, said the Chicago convention. I well remember how that evening our pickets shouted the good news to the pickets of the enemy. What good news? News that a convention representing nearly one-half of the people of the North had concluded that the war was a failure? No such news was shouted from our-picket line. The good news that they shouted was that Sherman had captured Atlanta.