It seems evident, from the sources of information at our command, that
the Imperial German Government counted largely on its ability to
neutralize the national will of America by fostering among Americans
of German descent a spirit of disloyalty to their country. That the
citizens of the Badger State in particular could thus be cajoled into
playing a traitor’s rôle was not only believed in Germany, but widely
feared in our own country as well. That our citizens of German descent
should be enthusiastic about going into the war was not reasonably to
have been expected; that, faced with a hard duty, they should prefer
to play the rôle of traitor is quite another matter. We do not
believe, and from the beginning have not feared, that any considerable
number will make such a choice.
In such a time of trial and stress as the present we are fairly
entitled to gain what comfort we may from an examination of our past.
The simple truth is that, with the possible exception of the Spanish
War, we enter upon the present struggle with more of unanimity and
resolution than has been the case with any other great war in our
history. Of our unfortunate divisions and discords during the
Revolution and the War of 1812 every schoolboy is informed. The North
had little enthusiasm for the Mexican War and largely abstained from
participation in it. The Civil War was a fratricidal contest, but the
South eliminated from consideration, the people of the North were
sadly divided in counsels and desires. That this was true of Wisconsin
has been largely forgotten by our citizens. The present generation has
forgotten, if indeed it was ever aware of, the fact that Wisconsin was
the seat of a formidable copperhead sentiment during the war; that
there was widespread opposition to the enforcement of the draft by the
federal government; and that a largely attended mass meeting at the
state capital in April, 1861, after the firing on Fort Sumter, laid on
the table a resolution pledging support to President Lincoln. It is
true the local paper declared, in the latter instance, that a majority
of those present favored the resolution but were circumvented in their
desire by the chairman of the meeting; but even so it is evident that
there must have been a large element of opposition to have enabled him
to carry through the maneuver. Notwithstanding the deliberation with
which the recent legislature went about expressing its support of the
national government, it requires no hardihood to affirm that no
chairman of a public gathering, however traitorous his desire, could
have prevented a Madison audience of 1917 from expressing its
intention of standing behind the national government.
To touch for a moment upon another matter, the political ideals of the
period preceding the Civil War were shockingly low in comparison with
those of the present time. If there has been any graft in connection
with the construction of our new $7,000,000 capitol, the public is as
yet totally unconscious of the fact. Three-quarters of a century ago,
on the contrary, we could not build even a forty-thousand-dollar
capitol without a riot of mismanagement and dishonesty. The period of
“Barstow and the balance,” and of the “forty thieves” signifies more
than the addition of a picturesque phrase to our political annals.
Instead of constituting a rare exception, the political morality which
these phrases suggest was painfully commonplace in Wisconsin prior to
the Civil War. It was only a few years before we entered upon that
great struggle that a powerful corporation brazenly established a
pay-counter at the capital and bought with paltry silver the entire
state legislature, and even the governor himself. Idealists are by no
means satisfied with the political standards and practices of our
public men of the present day, but they are lily-white in comparison
with the similar standards of the fifties in Wisconsin.
Or again, let us glance by way of comparison at the financial
situation. The diary of Harvey Reid, published elsewhere in this
magazine, affords an inkling, at least, of our deplorable financial
condition in 1861. The national banking-system still lay in the womb
of the future, while the treacherous “wild cats” flourished at the
expense alike of private fortunes and public credit. With the first
breath of war these institutions toppled in headlong ruin,
notwithstanding that the state legislature, heedless of constitutional
prohibitions, essayed vainly to prevent the crash. Within four days
after the news of the firing on Fort Sumter, specie payments were
suspended in Wisconsin; and the efforts of the government to float a
war loan of $1,200,000 on the credit of the state of Wisconsin in the
summer of 1861 met with dismal and inglorious failure.
We do not remind the present generation of these things in any
pharisaical attitude, but for the encouragement they afford to us at
this time. The outstanding fact is that in the very face of such
conditions as we have adverted to, Wisconsin girded herself for the
task and played a noble part in the Civil War. We enter the present
struggle immeasurably better prepared from almost every viewpoint than
we did the one of old. If, as we believe, our people still retain a
fair measure of pluck and ability, the record we are about to make
should be correspondingly better than that of fifty years ago.