Fellow Citizens:—It may have been expected that on this occasion I would make a speech before you; but such is not my intention. The condition of my health, and the hoarseness with which I am afflicted, render it well-nigh impossible for me to speak at all. I will, therefore, only say that, in behalf of the city of Chicago, whose chief magistrate I am, it is my privilege to introduce to you Mr. W. G. Brownlow, and in your behalf welcome, to the hospitalities of our city, this noble patriot, who has periled not only his temporal interests, but his life, for the Union cause in Tennessee. It is sufficient that I mention his name to you.
After the Mayor had concluded, J. C. Wright, Esq., on behalf of the Board of Trade, addressed Mr. Brownlow in an eloquent and stirring manner, as follows:
Rev. W. G. Brownlow:—At the request of the officers of this Board of Trade, I have the honor, sir, of performing the most agreeable duty of welcoming you to our Exchange.
It is not, sir, because of any official position you now hold, or have held, that this vast assembly has gathered here to receive you; but, sir, it is a mark of respect and admiration for your patriotic devotion to your country. When this horrid rebellion assumed its gigantic proportions, the loyal men of the North watched with anxiety the course of many men of the South, whom we had delighted to honor with the highest positions of trust and power. With rare exceptions we saw them retreating into the ranks of the traitors, using their influence, wealth and position to strike down the mildest and most beneficent government which God in his mercy had ever permitted man to establish. They beguiled and deceived the people, who had been accustomed to look up to them, and listen to their counsels. Many of the arch traitors, not content to act with the popular voice of their States, joined the ranks of the rebels, endeavoring to force their States to disregard their allegiance to that glorious Union which, for nearly a century, had thrown its genial influence and protection over a united, happy, and prosperous people. Amidst all this horrid exhibition of treason, and malignant, hellish hate, when the heart grew sick at contemplating the dark and dismal scene before us; when your neighbors and friends around you, in vast numbers, had deserted that old flag, consecrated by our fathers' blood, and were trampling under foot that Constitution which had so long been our pride and our hope, you, sir, stood firm and unmoved in your devoted patriotism. Threatened with the halter, with your grave yawning before you, with scorn you spurned proffered freedom in such honors as traitors could confer. To you the grave had no terrors to be shunned by an act of disloyalty to your beloved and now grateful country.
We are now rapidly making undying history for future generations to read. When the history of this wicked rebellion—for I can not call it an honorable war—is written, it will be sadly deficient, if its pages do not tell, in words that burn, the story of your wrongs, your fortitude, and your unswerving devotion to your country in the hour of her great trial. Our children will need no romance to stir their young hearts, but the truthful picture of your sufferings and heroism will fill the place of high wrought fiction. We shall no longer point to the classic ages for noble examples of heroes, who laughed at the halter and rack, and scorned life at the price of dishonor.
Sir, it is because you have so loved your country, and suffered for your principles, that we this day welcome you to our Exchange, to our hearth-stones, to our hearts.
In behalf of the officers, and of the more than nine hundred loyal members of this Board, again, air, I bid you welcome. Amid the stirring, glorious news of the triumph of our arms, I bid you welcome.
At the close of Mr. Wright's address, Parson Brownlow arose, and, after pausing a few moments until the tumult of applause had subsided, in a calm, clear voice, began his remarks. His first few words were uttered in a low tone, scarcely audible except to those nearest the speaker; but presently his voice was raised to a higher key, and, with his distinct and emphatic enunciation, every person in the vast crowd could easily hear and understand.