[_Speech before the Senate at Annapolis, Jan. 13_.]
Kossuth, having arrived at Annapolis, capital of Maryland, was
entertained in the Government House by Governor Lowe, and was next day
introduced to the Senate, who welcomed him with a cordial address. He
responded as follows:--
Mr. President: In the changes of my stormy life, many occasions,
connected with associations of historical interest, have impressed a
deep emotion upon my mind: but perhaps never yet has the memory of the
past made such a glowing impression upon me as here.
I bow reverentially, Senators of Maryland, in this glorious hall, the
sanctuary of immortal deeds, hallowed by immortal names.
Before I thank the living, let me look to those dead whose spirits dwell
within these walls [looking at the portraits that hung upon the walls],
living an imperishable life in the glory, freedom, and happiness of your
great United Republic, which is destined, as I confidently hope, to
become the corner-stone of the future of Humanity.
Yes, there they are, the glorious architects of the independence of this
Republic.
There is _Thomas Stone_; there, your Demosthenes, _Samuel
Chase_; there, _Charles Carroll, of Carrollton_, who designedly
added that epithet to the significance of his name, that nobody should
be mistaken about who was the _Carroll_ who dared the noble deed,
and was rewarded by being the last of his illustrious companions, whom
God called to the Heavenly Paradise, after he had long enjoyed the
paradise of freedom on earth; and here, _William Paca_;--all of
them signers of the Declaration of American Independence--that noblest,
happiest page in mankind's history.
How happy that man must have been [pointing to the portrait of Governor
Paca] having to govern this sovereign State on that day when, within
these very halls the act was ratified which, by the recognition of your
very enemy, raised your country to an independent nation.
Ye spirits of the departed! cast a ray of consolation by the voice of
your nation over that injured land, whose elected chief, a wandering
exile for having dared to imitate you, lays the trembling hopes of an
oppressed continent before the generous heart of your people--now not
only an independent nation but also a mighty and glorious power.
Alas! what a difference in the success of two like deeds! Have we not
done what ye did? Yes, we have. Was the cause for which we did it not
alike sacred and just as yours? It was. Or have we not fought to
sustain it with equal resolution as your brethren did? Bold though it be
to claim a glory such as America has, I am bold to claim, and say--yes,
we did. And yet what a difference in the result! And whence this
difference? Only out of that single circumstance that, while you, in
your struggle, meet with _assistance_, we in ours met not even with
_"fair play:"_ since, when we fought, there was nobody on earth to
maintain "the laws of nature's God."
During our struggle, America was silent and England did not stir; and
while you were assisted by a French King, we were forsaken by a French
Republic--itself now trodden down because it has forsaken us?
Well, we are not broken yet. There is hope for us, because there is a
God in heaven and an America on earth. May be that our nameless woes
were necessary, that the glorious destiny of America may be fulfilled;
that after it had been an asylum for the oppressed, it should become, by
regenerating Europe, the pillar of manhood's liberty.
Oh! it is not a mere capricious change of fate, that the exiled governor
of the land whose name, four years ago, was scarcely known on your
glorious shores, and which now (oh, let me have the blessings of this
belief!) is dear to the generous heart of America. It is not a mere
chance that Hungary's exiled chief thanks the Senators of Maryland for
the high honour of public welcome in that very Hall where the first
Continental Congress met; where your great Republic's glorious
constitution was framed; where the treaty of acknowledged independence
was ratified, and where you, Senators, guard with steady hand the rights
of your sovereign States which is now united to thirty others, not to
make you less free, but to make you more mighty--to make you a power on
earth.
I believe there is the hand of God in history. You assigned a place in
this hall of freedom to the memory of Chatham, for having been just to
America, by opposing the stamp act, which awoke your nation to
resistance.
Now, the people of England think as once Pitt the elder thought, and
honours with deep reverence the memory of your Washington.
But suppose the England of Lord Chatham's time had thought as Chatham
did: and his burning words had moved the English aristocracy to be just
towards the colonies: those our men there [turning to the portraits] had
not signed your country's independence. Washington were perhaps a name
"unknown, unhonoured, and unsung," and this proud constellation of your
glorious stars had perhaps not yet risen on mankind's sky--instead of
being now about to become the sun of Freedom. It is thus Providence
acts.
Let me hope, sir, that Hungary's unmerited fate was necessary, in order
that your stars should become such a sun.
Sirs, I stand, perhaps, upon the very spot where your Washington stood,
consummating the greatest act of his life. The walls which now listen
to my humble words, listened to the words of his republican virtue,
immortal by their very modesty. Let me, upon this sacred spot, express
my confident belief that if he stood here now, he would tell you that
his prophecy is fulfilled; that you are mighty enough "to defy any power
on earth in a just cause," and he would tell you that there never was
and never will be a cause more just than the cause of Hungary, being, as
it is, the cause of oppressed humanity.
Sir, I thank the Senate of Maryland, in my country's name for the honour
of your generous welcome. I entreat the Senate kindly to remember my
prostrate fatherland. Sir, I bid you farewell, feeling heart and soul
purified, and my resolution strengthened, by the very air of this
ancient city of Providence.
* * * * *