The editorial in the September number of the _Wisconsin Magazine of
History_ entitled “Consolation for the Present Crisis,” has prompted
me to enlarge upon one of its themes. Those of our citizens who feel
disturbed by the presence among us of an anti-war element may find
encouragement in a further recital of the doings of the anti-war
advocates in Wisconsin half a century ago.
Shortly after the firing on Fort Sumter, when the North was roused to
the utmost pitch of excitement, the democratic members of the
legislature together with certain citizens of Madison, arranged for a
peace mass meeting in the assembly chamber for the purpose of devising
some compromise which should suffice to avert the impending war. At
the appointed time the chamber was thronged with citizens, and a
number of speeches were made by legislators and townsmen conveying
various proposals of compromise which should be tendered the southern
people. These addresses were vigorously applauded by a large
proportion of the audience. Before the close of the meeting, however,
there were calls for Senator Dean, a republican whose loyalty to the
government was unquestioned. Greeted with tumultuous applause, he
proceeded, after a few stirring sentences about the duties of
citizenship, to say: “Compromise? Yes, we will compromise with them!
We will send a million free men down through the southern states and
drive the whole confederate army into the Gulf of Mexico!” The
applause which greeted this sentiment shook the building, and lasted
ten minutes or more. The meeting immediately adjourned, leaving the
peace advocates without a program.
As the war progressed, and the future seemed dark indeed, another
peace meeting was called at Madison, to be held in Capital Park. Noted
speakers were engaged, and it was expected that a great demonstration
in favor of ending the war would be staged. By this time Camp Randall
had come into being as the principal military encampment for
Wisconsin’s soldiers. Naturally the men did not look with enthusiasm
upon the impending peace meeting. On the appointed day two or three
hundred soldiers, having secured leave of absence from camp, dragged a
six-pound cannon to capitol square; loading it with canister, they
planted it in front of the speaker’s stand, with the quiet assurance
to those in charge of the meeting that as soon as a treasonable word
should be uttered the orator and all on the platform would be blown to
hell. Under these circumstances the meeting proved very tame, the
speeches being confined to deprecating the necessity for the war and
hoping it would soon be over.
The Copperheads, as they had come to be called, did not omit any
opportunity to flaunt their sentiments before the supporters of the
government. In Madison alone probably hundreds of old-fashioned copper
cents (a coin nearly an inch and a quarter in diameter) were filed
down so as to leave only the Indian head in profile. To this a pin was
affixed for attachment to the coat lapel, and the coins were worn to
afford evidence that the wearer was a Copperhead in sentiment. Loyal
citizens responded to this challenge by filing the eagle out of the
silver quarter and wearing it as a badge. One prominent citizen, who
wore the copperhead for over a year, lived to say that it was the one
action of his life of which he was heartily ashamed.
There is today no such villification and abuse of President Wilson as
was heaped upon Lincoln during the Civil War. After every Union defeat
the Copperheads would say: “What did we tell you? You can never whip
the South!” Some of the newspapers were so disloyal in sentiment that
they were suppressed by military authority. In fact, the situation was
very grave. In comparison with it the current pacifist machinations
appear tame and insignificant. The great mass of the people, however,
were determined to stand by the government till victory should be
achieved. They persevered in this determination and the Union was
preserved. So will it be today, whether the end comes in one year or
five, whether the cost be five billions of dollars or fifty. There
must be no compromise. Let the fight be to the finish.
Sincerely yours,
E. C. MASON.
Madison, October 1, 1917.