The Republican party did succeed in November, 1868, and did inaugurate its President, and we did not meet as a subjected and conquered people amid the ruins of liberty and the scattered fragments of the Constitution. We met as a victorious people, amid the proudest achievements of liberty, protected by a Constitution spotless and stainless—pure as the Alpine snow thrice sifted by the northern blast.
You must not forget the condition of the Government when it came into the hands of the Republican party. Its treasury was empty, its means squandered, its navy dispersed, its army unreliable, the offices filled with rebels and rebel spies; the Democratic party of the North rubbing its hands in a kind of hellish glee and shouting, "I told you so."
When the Republican party came into power in 1861, it found the Southern States in arms; it came into power when human beings were chained hand to hand and driven like cattle to market; when white men were engaged in the ennobling business of raising dogs to pursue and catch men and women; when the bay of the bloodhound was considered as the music of the Union. It came into power when, from thousands of pulpits, slavery was declared to be a divine institution. It took the reins of Government when education was an offence, when mercy, humanity and justice were political crimes.
The Republican party came into power when the Constitution of the United States upheld the crime of crimes, a Constitution that gave the lie direct to the Declaration of Independence, and, as I said before, when the Southern States were in arms.
To the fulfillment of its great destiny it gave all its energies. To the almost superhuman task, it gave its every thought and power. For four long and terrible years, with vast armies in the field against it; beset by false friends; in constant peril; betrayed again and again; stabbed by the Democratic party, in the name of the Constitution; reviled and slandered beyond conception; attacked in every conceivable manner—the Republican party never faltered for an instant. Its courage increased with the difficulties to be overcome. Hopeful in defeat, confident in disaster, merciful in victory; sustained by high aims and noble aspirations, it marched forward, through storms of shot and shell—on to the last fortification of treason and rebellion—forward to the shining goal of victory, lasting and universal.
During these savage and glorious years, the Democratic party of the North, as a party, assisted the South. Democrats formed secret societies to burn cities—to release rebel prisoners. They shot down officers who were enforcing the draft; they declared the war unconstitutional; they left nothing undone to injure the credit of the Government; they persuaded soldiers to desert; they went into partnership with rebels for the purpose of spreading contagious diseases through the North. They were the friends and allies of persons who regarded yellow fever and smallpox as weapons of civilized warfare. In spite of all this, the Republicans succeeded.
The Democrats declared slavery to be a divine institution; The Republican party abolished it. The Constitution of the United States was changed from a sword that stabbed the rights of four million people to a shield for every human being beneath our flag.
The Democrats of New York burned orphan asylums and inaugurated a reign of terror in order to co-operate with the raid of John Morgan. Remember, my friends, that all this was done when the fate of our country trembled in the balance of war; that all this was done when the great heart of the North was filled with agony and courage; when the question was, "Shall Liberty or Slavery triumph?"
No words have ever passed the human lips strong enough to curse the Northern allies of the South.
The United States wanted money. It wanted money to buy muskets and cannon and shot and shell, it wanted money to pay soldiers, to buy horses, wagons, ambulances, clothing and food. Like an individual, it had to borrow this money; and, like an honest individual, it must pay this money. Clothed with sovereignty, it had, or at least exercised, the power to make its notes a legal tender. This quality of being a legal tender was the only respect in which these notes differ from those signed by an individual. As a matter of fact, every note issued was a forced loan from the people, a forced loan from the soldiers in the field—in short, a forced loan from every person that took a single dollar. Upon every one of these notes is printed a promise. The belief that this promise will be made good gives every particle of value to each note that it has. Although each note, by law, is a legal tender, yet if the Government declared that it never would redeem these notes, the people would not take them if revolution could hurl such a Government from power. So that the belief that these notes will finally be paid, added to the fact that in the meantime they are a legal tender, gives them all the value they have. And, although all are substantially satisfied that they will be paid, none know at what time. This uncertainty as to the time, as to when, affects the value of these notes.