Things indeed had reached such a pass, in the House of Representatives especially, that it was felt they could not much longer go on in this manner; that an example must be made of some one or other of these Copperheads. But the very knowledge of the existence of such a feeling of just and patriotic irritation against the continued free utterance of such sentiments in the Halls of Congress, seemed only to make some of them still more defiant. And, when the 8th of April dawned, it was known among all the Democrats in Congress, that Alexander Long proposed that day to make a speech which would "go a bow-shot beyond them all" in uttered Treason. He would speak right out, what the other Conspirators thought and meant, but dared not utter, before the World.
A crowded floor, and packed galleries, were on hand to listen to the written, deliberate Treason, as it fell from his lips in the House. His speech began with an arraignment of the Government for treachery, incompetence, failure, tyranny, and all sorts of barbarous actions and harsh intentions, toward the Rebels—which led him to the indignant exclamation:
"Will they throw down their arms and submit to the terms? Who shall believe that the free, proud American blood, which courses with as quick pulsation through their veins as our own, will not be spilled to the last drop in resistance?"
Warming up, he proceeded to say: "Can the Union be restored by War? I answer most unhesitatingly and deliberately, No, never; 'War is final, eternal separation.'"
He claimed that the War was "wrong;" that it was waged "in violation of the Constitution," and would "if continued, result speedily in the destruction of the Government and the loss of Civil Liberty, and ought therefore, to immediately cease."
He held also "that the Confederate States are out of the Union, occupying the position of an Independent Power de facto; have been acknowledged as a belligerent both by Foreign Nations and our own Government; maintained their Declaration of Independence, for three years, by force of arms; and the War has cut asunder all the obligations that bound them under the Constitution."
"Much better," said he, "would it have been for us in the beginning, much better would it be for us now, to consent to a division of our magnificent Empire, and cultivate amicable relations with our estranged brethren, than to seek to hold them to us by the power of the sword. * * * I am reluctantly and despondingly forced to the conclusion that the Union is lost, never to be restored. * * * I see neither North nor South, any sentiment on which it is possible to build a Union. * * * in attempting to preserve our Jurisdiction over the Southern States we have lost our Constitutional Form of Government over the Northern. * * * The very idea upon which this War is founded, coercion of States, leads to despotism. * * * I now believe that there are but two alternatives, and they are either an acknowledgment of the Independence of the South as an independent Nation, or their complete subjugation and extermination as a People; and of these alternatives I prefer the former."
As Long took his seat, amid the congratulations of his Democratic friends, Garfield arose, and, to compliments upon the former's peculiar candor and honesty, added denunciation for his Treason. After drawing an effective parallel between Lord Fairfax and Robert E. Lee, both of whom had cast their lots unwillingly with the enemies of this Land, when the Wars of the Revolution and of the Rebellion respectively opened, Garfield proceeded:
"But now, when hundreds of thousands of brave souls have gone up to God under the shadow of the Flag, and when thousands more, maimed and shattered in the Contest, are sadly awaiting the deliverance of death; now, when three years of terrific warfare have raged over us, when our Armies have pushed the Rebellion back over mountains and rivers and crowded it back into narrow limits, until a wall of fire girds it; now, when the uplifted hand of a majestic People is about to let fall the lightning of its conquering power upon the Rebellion; now, in the quiet of this Hall, hatched in the lowest depths of a similar dark Treason, there rises a Benedict Arnold and proposes to surrender us all up, body and spirit, the Nation and the Flag, its genius and its honor, now and forever, to the accursed Traitors to our Country. And that proposition comes—God forgive and pity my beloved State!—it comes from a citizen of the honored and loyal Commonwealth of Ohio! I implore you, brethren in this House, not to believe that many such births ever gave pangs to my mother-State such as she suffered when that Traitor was born!"
As he uttered these sturdy words, the House and galleries were agitated with that peculiar rustling movement and low murmuring sound known as a "sensation," while the Republican side with difficulty restrained the applause they felt like giving, until he sadly proceeded: