[Speech of Henry Cabot Lodge, delivered at a banquet complimentary to
the Robert E. Lee Camp of Confederate Veterans, of Richmond, Va.,
given in Faneuil Hall, Boston, June 17, 1887. The Southerners were
visiting Boston as the special guests of the John A. Andrew Post 15,
Department of Massachusetts, Grand Army of the Republic. At the
banquet Commander William B. Daley, of Post 15, presided. On either
side of the presiding officer were seated, Col. A. L. Phillips,
commander of the visiting camp, ex-Solicitor Gen. Goode of Virginia,
the Hon. George D. Wise of Virginia, Governor Ames of Massachusetts.
Mr. Lodge [now United States Senator from Massachusetts] responded to
the toast, "The Blue and the Gray."]
MR. CHAIRMAN:--To such a toast, sir, it would seem perhaps most
fitting that one of those should respond who was a part of the great
event which it recalls. Yet, after all, on an occasion like this, it may
not be amiss to call upon one who belongs to a generation to whom the
Rebellion is little more than history, and who, however insufficiently,
represents the feelings of that and the succeeding generations as to our
great Civil War. I was a boy ten years old when the troops marched away
to defend Washington, and my personal knowledge of that time is confined
to a few broken but vivid memories. I saw the troops, month after month,
pour through the streets of Boston. I saw Shaw go forth at the head of
his black regiment, and Bartlett, shattered in body but dauntless in
soul, ride by to carry what was left of him once more to the
battle-fields of the Republic. I saw Andrew, standing bareheaded on the
steps of the State House, bid the men God-speed. I cannot remember the
words he said, but I can never forget the fervid eloquence which brought
tears to the eyes and fire to the hearts of all who listened. I
understood but dimly the awful meaning of these events. To my boyish
mind one thing alone was clear, that the soldiers as they marched past
were all, in that supreme hour, heroes and patriots. Amid many changes
that simple belief of boyhood has never altered. The gratitude which I
felt then I confess to to-day more strongly than ever. But other
feelings have in the progress of time altered much. I have learned, and
others of my generation as they came to man's estate have learned, what
the war really meant, and they have also learned to know and to do
justice to the men who fought the war upon the other side.
I do not stand up in this presence to indulge in any mock
sentimentality. You brave men who wore the gray would be the first to
hold me or any other son of the North in just contempt if I should say
that, now it was all over, I thought the North was wrong and the result
of the war a mistake, and that I was prepared to suppress my political
opinions. I believe most profoundly that the war on our side was
eternally right, that our victory was the salvation of the country, and
that the results of the war were of infinite benefit to both North and
South. But however we differed, or still differ, as to the causes for
which we fought then, we accept them as settled, commit them to history,
and fight over them no more. To the men who fought the battles of the
Confederacy we hold out our hands freely, frankly, and gladly. To
courage and faith wherever shown we bow in homage with uncovered heads.
We respect and honor the gallantry and valor of the brave men who fought
against us, and who gave their lives and shed their blood in defence of
what they believed to be right. We rejoice that the famous general whose
name is borne upon your banner was one of the greatest soldiers of
modern times, because he, too, was an American. We have no bitter
memories to revive, no reproaches to utter. Reconciliation is not to be
sought, because it exists already. Differ in politics and in a thousand
other ways we must and shall in all good-nature, but let us never differ
with each other on sectional or State lines, by race or creed.
We welcome you, soldiers of Virginia, as others more eloquent than I
have said, to New England. We welcome you to old Massachusetts. We
welcome you to Boston and to Faneuil Hall. In your presence here, and at
the sound of your voices beneath this historic roof, the years roll
back and we see the figure and hear again the ringing tones of your
great orator, Patrick Henry, declaring to the first Continental
Congress, "The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsylvanians, New
Yorkers, and New Englanders are no more. I am not a Virginian, but an
American." A distinguished Frenchman, as he stood among the graves at
Arlington, said, "Only a great people is capable of a great civil war."
Let us add with thankful hearts that only a great people is capable of a
great reconciliation. Side by side, Virginia and Massachusetts led the
colonies into the War for Independence. Side by side they founded the
government of the United States. Morgan and Greene, Lee and Knox,
Moultrie and Prescott, men of the South and men of the North, fought
shoulder to shoulder, and wore the same uniform of buff and blue--the
uniform of Washington.
Your presence here brings back their noble memories, it breathes the
spirit of concord, and unites with so many other voices in the
irrevocable message of union and good-will. Mere sentiment all this,
some may say. But it is sentiment, true sentiment, that has moved the
world. Sentiment fought the war, and sentiment has re-united us. When
the war closed, it was proposed in the newspapers and elsewhere to give
Governor Andrew, who had sacrificed health and strength and property in
his public duties, some immediately lucrative office, like the
collectorship of the port of Boston. A friend asked him if he would take
such a place. "No," said he; "I have stood as high priest between the
horns of the altar, and I have poured out upon it the best blood of
Massachusetts, and I cannot take money for that." Mere sentiment, truly,
but the sentiment which ennobles and uplifts mankind. It is sentiment
which so hallows a bit of torn, stained bunting, that men go gladly to
their deaths to save it. So I say that the sentiment manifested by your
presence here, brethren of Virginia, sitting side by side with those who
wore the blue, has a far-reaching and gracious influence, of more value
than many practical things. It tells us that these two grand old
commonwealths, parted in the shock of the Civil War, are once more side
by side as in the days of the Revolution, never to part again. It tells
us that the sons of Virginia and Massachusetts, if war should break
again upon the country, will, as in the olden days, stand once more
shoulder to shoulder, with no distinction in the colors that they wear.
It is fraught with tidings of peace on earth and you may read its
meaning in the words on yonder picture, "Liberty and Union, now and
forever, one and inseparable."