Families, races and nations of men appear, act their respective parts,
and then pass away. Political organizations are dissolved by influence
of time. At some periods and in some portions of the world, barbarous
races appropriate to their use the former domain of civilization, while
at other points of time and space nations are rapidly advancing in
wealth and refinement. If savage communities have been exterminated by
superior races of men, so have the arts and civilities of the most
enlightened people been displaced by the rude passions and rugged
manners of barbarism. As in the natural world there is a slow
revolution of thousands of years, by which every part of this globe is
brought within the tropics and beneath the poles, so there appears to
be a great cycle of humanity, whose law is that every portion of the
race shall pass through each condition of social, intellectual and
moral existence.
But whatever may be the fate of families, races and nations, their
influence is in some sense perpetual. The Past is not dead. By a
mysterious cord it is connected with the Present. Could we analyze
our life, we should perhaps find that but few of the emotions we
experience are to be traced to events and circumstance which have
occurred in our own time.
We admire the heroes of Grecian history and even of Grecian fable. We
are inspired by ancient poetry and eloquence, as well as by the bards
and orators of modern times. Painting and sculpture are the equal
admiration of every refined age. The virtue of patriotism has been
illustrated by savage as well as civilized life. Thus every recorded
event of the past has somewhat of value for us. Hence men seek to
connect themselves by blood and language with Europe, or even with
Asia, and delight to trace their family and name into the dark
centuries of the Past. We search for the truth amid the myths and
fables of Grecian and Roman history, and have faith that the ruins of
Ninevah, Memphis and Palmyra shall yet declare the civilities,
learning, and religion of ancient days.
Few nations have had a perfect history. Valuable history can be
derived only from the continued record of the transactions of a people.
Wherever governments have existed in fact before they have existed in
form, or wherever the proceedings of a government have not been matters
of record, there can be no trustworthy history. In these respects
Massachusetts has been fortunate. Her government is older than her
existence as colonies, and from the first a faithful record of her
proceedings has been made. The foundations of New Plymouth and
Massachusetts were laid more than two centuries ago; the circumstances
of this occasion lead us to consider the least defensible portions of
their history; yet the world cannot charge them with suppressing any
fact necessary to a true appreciation of their policy and character.
Whatever they did was in the fear of God and without the fear of man.
Conscious of their own integrity of purpose, they shrunk not from the
judgment of posterity. And though in this hour we may not always
approve their policy, so neither can we comprehend their principles or
appreciate their trials. The human family has ever been subject to one
great law. It is this: Inferior races disappear in the presence of
their superiors, or become dependent upon them. Now, while this law
shall not stand as a defence for our fathers, it is satisfactory to
feel that no policy could have civilized or even saved the Indian
tribes of Massachusetts. The remnants that linger in our midst are
not the representatives of the native nobility of the forest two
centuries ago. Nor did Williams or Eliot, by kindness or religion,
ever command the fierce spirits of Miantonomo, Canonchet and Philip.
Nevertheless, let history exalt these men. Let it speak truly of
their genius, their courage, their patriotism, their devotion to their
race, and, as for Massachusetts, she shall be known and read of all
from the dark day when the colony of Plymouth had not ten efficient
men, to this auspicious moment when within our borders a million of
free and happy people speak the language and glory in the descent of
the Pilgrim Fathers!
The existence of Massachusetts is properly divided into three parts.
First, as a colony from the settlement of Plymouth in 1620, to the loss
of the Massachusetts charter in 1684. Second, as a province from the
charter for the Province of William and Mary in 1691, to the
Declaration of Independence in 1776. Third, as a State from 1780 to
the present time. As a colony, the civil rights of our ancestors were
those of British subjects, but their political and religious privileges
were much greater. As a province their civil rights remained,
religious freedom was extended, while their political privileges were
materially limited.
The occasion, these services, this monument and inscription, connect us
with the colony. We are not here so much reminded of the men who fell,
as of the sacrifices and sufferings of the colonies in 1675 and '76.
The period of King Philip's War was the most trying and perilous in our
history. The Revolution was a struggle for freedom; the contest with
Philip was for existence. Philip contemplated the extermination of the
English in America, while King George only desired their subjugation to
his authority. Nor was the latter ever so near the accomplishment of
his design as was the former in the autumn of 1675.
Massachusetts has seen no other such winter as that which followed.
"Morn came, and went--and came, and brought not day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation."
As late as March, 1676, says Hubbard, "it was full sea with Philip's
affairs." And even on the 26th of April, the Plymouth colony writes
thus to Massachusetts:
"The Lord undertake for us, for we are in a very low condition; and the
spirits of our people begin to run low, also being now averse to going
forth against the enemies. The Lord have us patient to wait God's
time, although our salvation seems still to be far from us."
The war commenced on the 24th day of June, 1675, and ended on the 12th
of August, 1676, by the death of Philip.
The colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut and New Haven were
united, and Governor Josiah Winslow of Plymouth was appointed
commander-in-chief.
Neither the population nor the available force of the colonies is now
known. Some writers have estimated the population of New England at a
hundred and twenty thousand. This is plainly an exaggeration. From a
few scattered fragments and facts we may conclude that Massachusetts
had a force of about 4,500 men, New Haven and Connecticut about 2,000,
and Plymouth about 1,300; in all about 8,000 men. Of these
Massachusetts had a cavalry force seven hundred strong. Upon this
basis the entire population could not have exceeded 60,000, and some
writers, on the other hand, have estimated it at only forty thousand
souls. But, whatever may have been the number of able-bodied men in
the colonies, the available force for active service must have been
small. A large number of towns were to be garrisoned, and many men
were necessarily employed in the customary duties of life.
Still less is known of the strength of Philip's confederated tribes.
Pestilence and war had depopulated New England previous to the arrival
of the Pilgrims. In 1675 the Pokanokets and Narragansets were the most
powerful, and together mustered three or four thousand warriors.
Philip was sachem of the Pokanokets and Canonchet of the Narragansets.
These tribes constituted Philip's reliable strength, but he had
confederated with him and pledged to the common cause the smaller
chiefs of the Piscataqua and Merrimack, of central Massachusetts and
the valley of the Connecticut. The Narragansets occupied what is now
Rhode Island and the islands adjacent thereto, while Philip as the
chief of the Pokanokets or Wampanoags had his seat at Montaup or Mount
Hope. It was not, however, expedient or possible for him to consecrate
a large force upon any one point. With his forces divided into war
parties as necessity or circumstances dictated, he was able in the
space of thirteen months to attack and partially or entirely destroy a
great number of towns, among which were Brookfield, Lancaster,
Marlboro', Sudbury, Groton, Deerfield, Springfield, Hatfield,
Northfield, Northampton, Chelmsford, Andover, Medfield, Rehoboth,
Plymouth, Scituate, Weymouth, and Middleborough in Massachusetts, and
New Plymouth, Providence and Warwick in Rhode Island. Of these, twelve
or thirteen were entirely destroyed.
Six hundred dwellings were burned, and sixteen hundred persons slain
or carried into captivity. There was not a house standing between
Stonington and Providence. It was as destructive as a war would now be
to Massachusetts which should send twenty thousand able-bodied men to
the grave, and render twenty thousand families houseless, and for the
most part destitute. Had all the events of the Revolution been crowded
into twelve months, the conflict would have been less terrible than was
the war with Philip. His operations menaced and endangered the
existence of the colony. There was a probability that the taunting
threat of John Monoco, the leader of the party which burned Groton,
that he would burn Chelmsford, Concord, Watertown, Cambridge,
Charlestown, Roxbury and Boston, might even be executed. Hardly
anything else remained of the Massachusetts colony on which the power
and vengeance of Philip could fall. Points of the interior, to be
sure, were garrisoned, but for the most part it was an unbroken forest,
or marked only by heaps of smouldering ruins.
And here may we well pause and reflect, that however we or posterity
may judge the Indian policy of our ancestors, the scenes through
which they passed were not calculated to mitigate the horrors of war,
or in the hour of triumph to awaken emotions of pity for the fallen.
As for the Indians, they were destroyed. Their great sachems had
fallen. Anawon, Canonchet, Philip, were no more. Nor had their
fighting men survived them. Their towns, of which they had many, were
burned. And why should the humble wigwam remain when the heroic spirit
of its occupant had departed?
And, worse than all, the women and children had been massacred or sold
into slavery.
----"few remain
To strive, and those must strive in vain."
Peace came; but--sad thought--there was no treaty of peace. It was a
war of extermination. Not often in the history of the world has it
happened thus. The colonists believed that they had been fighting the
battles of God's chosen people. Mather says, "the evident hand of
Heaven appearing on the side of the people, whose hope and help were
alone in the Almighty Lord of Hosts, extinguished those nations of
savages at such a rate, that there can hardly any of them now be found
under any distinction upon the face of the earth."
At some points in New Hampshire and the district of Maine, the fires of
war flickered ere they went forever out. Omitting comparatively
unimportant incursions, the Indian wars of Massachusetts and New
Plymouth were ended. The existence of these hitherto feeble
settlements was rendered certain. Although political and religious
controversies occupied the attention of the settlers, they yet found
means to cultivate the arts of peace. The forest was broken up,
commerce was increased, agriculture flourished, new settlements were
made, confidence was created, men saw before them a future in which
they had hope. As our fathers passed from war to peace they forgot
not their religious duties, and the 29th of June in Massachusetts, and
the 17th of August in Plymouth, were set part as days of public
thanksgiving and praise. Days of sadness, too, they must have been;
days of woe as well as of triumph. The colonies were bereaved in the
loss of brave and valuable men,--families were bereaved in the loss of
homes,--and all were bereaved in the fall or captivity of kindred and
friends. And could our ancestors have seen that this was the first
great step in the red man's solemn march to the grave, a tear of
sympathy would have fallen in behalf of a noble and heroic race.
The war was brief; its operations were rapid. In the space of less
than fourteen months the Indians were exterminated and the whites
reduced to the condition I have faintly portrayed. Yet, until the
19th of December, 1675, when the colonists made a most destructive
attack upon the Indians at what is now South Kingston, the war had
been confined chiefly to the valley of the Connecticut. But from that
moment Philip was like a hungry tiger goaded in confinement, suddenly
let loose upon his prey. The destruction of villages and the deadly
ambuscade of bodies of men followed each other in quick succession. In
the space of sixty days his forces attacked Lancaster, Medfield,
Weymouth, Groton, Warwick, Marlboro', Rehoboth, Providence, Chelmsford,
Andover and Sudbury. At least one half of the death and desolation of
this war was crowded into this short period of time.
There was no security except in garrisons defended by armed men. The
Indian marches exceeded in celerity the movements of well-furnished
cavalry in civilized countries. Their women even aided in the march
and in the camp. Accustomed to hardship and famine, they subsisted in
a manner incredible to our time and race. And with one or two
exceptions, when the colonists came upon the Indians unexpectedly, the
latter were superior in the strategic arts of war, though in open
fight their fire was much less destructive. It must be confessed that
Captain Lathrop at Bloody Brook, and Captain Wadsworth at Sudbury,
were, in a degree, incautious. Hubbard closes his account of the
disaster with these words:
"Thus, as in former attempts of like nature, too much courage and
eagerness in pursuit of the enemy hath added another fatal blow to
this poor country."
For a long period a feeling of insecurity oppressed the settlers. Each
town was furnished with a garrison. The Indian trail was the signal
for alarm, and through long years the events of Philip's war were borne
by tradition and history to itching ears and timid hearts in the
garrison and family circle.
Passing from the principal features of this bloody contest, we feel
that its details are less certain.
In 1676, Sudbury was a frontier town, although settled as early as
1638. Marlboro' was attacked and nearly destroyed the 26th of March,
1676. Captain Sam'l Brocklebank, of Rowley, with a company of Essex
men, was stationed at Marlboro'; but his apprehensions of danger were
so slight that he asked to be relieved from the service. On the 27th
of March, Lieutenant Jacobs, of Captain Brocklebank's company, with
forty soldiers, one half of whom were Sudbury men, attacked a party
of 300 sleeping Indians, and disabled thirty of them without the loss
of a man. The news of the attack upon Marlboro' early furnished by
Captain Brocklebank induced the Council to order Captain Wadsworth of
Milton, with about fifty men, to its relief. At or near Marlboro' he
was informed that Sudbury was the besieged town. It is certain that he
left his young men in the garrison at Marlboro' under the command of
Lieutenant Jacobs, and he was probably joined by Captain Brocklebank
with a part or the whole of his command. It is said that Wadsworth
had marched from Boston that day, yet he moved immediately for the
relief of Sudbury. Presuming that the hill where this monument stands
is that to which Captain Wadsworth was forced by the Indians, their
decoy-outposts must have been a mile or a mile and a half on the way
to Marlboro'.
Captain Wadsworth estimated the number of Indians first discovered at
one hundred. These he pursued about a mile, when he found himself
surrounded by a body of savages four or five hundred strong. Captain
Wadsworth was probably at the bloody fight of the 19th of December, he
was in the Narraganset country about the 1st of January, and he had
marched at the head of forty men to the relief of Lancaster, yet he
appears from the little truth within our reach, to have neglected those
precautions essential to safety in Indian warfare. But is should be
remembered that Captain Wadsworth and Captain Brocklebank were born
about the time of the Pequot War, and could have had no experience in
similar service previous to hostilities with Philip.
The loss of men is not certainly known, nor do writers agree that the
fight took place on the 18th of April.
The inscription upon the monument follows the authority of President
Wadsworth of Harvard College, son of Captain Wadsworth, and for a
portion of his life minister of the first church in Boston. He had
superior facilities for ascertaining the truth and strong motives for
stating it. He puts the loss at twenty-nine officers and men, and
fixes upon the 18th of April as the day of the fight.
His statement is sustained by the evidence I have gathered. Some
writers have put the loss at fifty, and others as high as seventy men,
but these numbers exceed the truth. Wadsworth had fifty men;
Brocklebank may have had as many more. We can account for about
ninety-six. On the 24th of April, Lieutenant Jacobs acknowledges the
receipt of his charge as Captain, in place of Captain Brocklebank, and
informs the Governor and his Council that his company consists of
about forty-six men, a portion of whom were left at Marlboro' by
Captain Wadsworth.
Hubbard says, that of Wadsworth's company, not above twenty escaped,
and Daniel Warren and Joseph Pierce, who buried the dead, say that
fourteen or fifteen of Captain Wadsworth's men were concealed at Mr.
Noist's mill. Taking the statements of Hubbard and Jacobs, we
account for ninety-six officers and men, viz.: forty-seven left at
Marlboro', twenty-nine killed, and twenty escaped.
Some writer has stated that the battle was fought on the 21st, instead
of the 18th of April. It may not be proved that the battle was fought
on the 18th, but it is determined that it was fought previous to the
21st.
On the 21st of April, the Massachusetts Council communicated the fact
in writing to the Plymouth Colony. It is true that Lieutenant Jacobs
does not mention the loss of Wadsworth and Brocklebank in a letter to
the Governor and Council, dated at Marlboro' on the 22nd of April; but
in his letter of the 24th, he refers to the subject as he might have
done, had he received the intelligence when he received his authority
to take the command of the fort and men at Marlboro'. And this was
probably the case. That communication between the two towns was
suspended, is apparent from Jacobs' letter of the 22nd of April, to
which I have referred. The conclusion, I think, is that, under the
circumstances, there is a reasonable amount of evidence in support of
the statement of President Wadsworth.
The loss of Wadsworth and Brocklebank was severely felt by the colony.
Hubbard says, "Wadsworth was a resolute, stout-hearted soldier, and
Brocklebank a choice, spirited man." Mather says, "but the worst part
of the story is, that Captain Wadsworth, one worthy to live in our
history under the name of a good man, coming up after a long, hard,
unwearied march with seventy men unto the relief of distressed Sudbury,
found himself in the woods on the sudden, surrounded with about five
hundred of the enemy, whereupon our men fought like men, and more than
so."
Capt. Samuel Wadsworth was the youngest son of Christopher Wadsworth,
one of the early Plymouth Pilgrims, who settled at Duxbury with Capt.
Miles Standish. Samuel Wadsworth was born in Duxbury about 1630, and
was therefore forty-five or six years of age when he died. He first
appears at Milton, in 1656, where he took up three hundred acres of
land near the center of the town. He was interested in obtaining the
separation of the town from Dorchester and in its incorporation in
1662. In the new town he was the first captain of the militia, one of
the selectmen, a member of the House of Representatives, a trustee of
the church and active in church affairs. That he was highly esteemed
in the town is apparent from these facts as well as from a memorial of
Robert Babcock, one of the selectmen of Milton. He feelingly alludes
to the loss in these words: _"Captain Wadsworth being departed from
us, whose face we shall see here no more."_
Capt. Samuel Brocklebank, of Rowley, was born in England, and was also
about forty-six years of age at the time of his death. In November,
1675, he informed Governor Leverett that he had impressed twelve men
for the war. Of these, seven returned to Rowley. His correspondence
with the Council shows him to have been a man of respectable attainments.
As then the colonies and the town shared a common grief in the loss of
these devoted men, so now it is appropriate that the State and town
should unite in the erection of this unpretending memorial of their
names and virtues.
In April, 1676, Philip's power was at its height. But his successes
had weakened him. His warriors were slain or scattered all over the
country, his provisions and ammunition were exhausted, and Canonchet,
his most valuable ally, had planned his last ambuscade, and rallied
his Narragansets for the last time. The rapidity of Philip's
movements, and the fierceness of his attacks, had deprived his
warriors of the moral power to withstand reverses. His operations for
two months had been those of a desperate man; and when desperation is
followed by misfortune there is no hope of recovery.
The winter campaign of 1675-6 was opened and conducted with great vigor
on the part of the colonies.
The second of December was appointed and set apart as a day of solemn
humiliation for the imploring of God's special grace and favor to
appear for his poor people. Then the treasurer was clothed with
unlimited power to borrow money, and authorized to pledge the public
lands acquired and to be acquired for the payment of the war debt; one
thousand stands of arms and a corresponding quantity of ammunition
were ordered; men were impressed for active service in the field, for
the erection and defence of garrisons, and for the tillage of the soil;
the women and children of the frontier towns were sent towards the
coast; the Indian trading houses were abolished; and even the members
of Harvard College were required to pay their proportion of rates, and
to serve in the army either personally or by substitute.
The Council were instructed to use their "utmost endeavors, with
promise of such rewards as they judge meet, to get the Mohegans and
Pequots" to cut off the Indians of Philip. Governor Winslow was
commander-in-chief, and was instructed by "care, courage, diligence,
policy and favor, to discover, pursue and encounter, and by the help
of God to vanquish and subdue the cruel, barbarous and treacherous
enemy, whether Philip Sachem and his Wampanoags, or the Narraganset
and his undoubted allies, or any other their friends and abettors."
Canonchet, son of Miantonomo and grand nephew of Canonicus, was chief
of the Narragansets. When the colonists first became acquainted with
this tribe, Canonicus was their sachem, but his nephew Miantonomo was
associated with him in the government. This sachem was never a friend
to the English, and he early sent to Plymouth a bundle of arrows bound
in a rattle-snake's skin as a war challenge. Miantonomo was less
hostile, but Canonchet manifested the spirit of his grand uncle.
Immediately after hostilities commenced with Philip the English
demanded of Canonchet the surrender of certain Pokanokets alleged to be
within his dominions. This was his reply: "Deliver the Indians of
Philip! Never. Not a Wampanoag will I ever give up. No. Not the
paring of a Wampanoag's nail."
He was of course charged with being in alliance with Philip. A force
of a thousand men with such Indian allies as could be mustered, was
marched immediately into his country. This was the force engaged on
the 19th of December in the famous Swamp Fight, the most sanguinary
battle of Philip's War. Six hundred warriors were slain, six hundred
wigwams were burned, and an unknown number of women, children and old
men perished in the flames. The English loss exceeded two hundred,
among whom were several brave officers. From this moment the fortunes
of Canonchet were identified with Philip's, and he is supposed to have
commanded in many of the attacks upon the frontier towns. About the
last of March, 1676, he visited the Connecticut River to urge, if not
to superintend the planting of corn. Finding his people destitute of
seed, he returned to obtain a supply, but was arrested at Seekonk and
executed at Stonington. His death was a sad blow to Philip, and the
occasion of a great joy in the colonies. When told that he must die,
he said:
"It is well. I shall die before my heart is soft. I will speak
nothing which Canonchet should be ashamed to speak. It is well."
Thus fell Canonchet, the last great chief of the Narragansets. A man
so noble and chivalric in his spirit that his life and death commanded
the admiration of his worst enemies. They vainly imagined that some
disembodied spirit of Greece or Rome had revisited the earth in the
vast physical and mental proportions of Canonchet.
Forty years before, the friendship of his father, Miantonomo, and the
qualified hostility he assumed towards Sassacus and the Pequots had
saved the infant colonies from destruction. Sassacus, the Pequot
chief, had proposed to Canonicus an alliance against the English, but
in consequence of the advice of Roger Williams, Miantonomo visited
Governor Winthrop at Boston, was received and entertained with great
ceremony, and finally concluded with the colonies a treaty of peace
and alliance. Its main provisions were these:
1st. Peace with Massachusetts and the other English plantations.
2nd. Neither party to make peace with the Pequots without the consent
of the other.
3rd. Neither party to harbor Pequots.
4th. Murderers escaping from either party to be put to death or
delivered up to the other.
5th. Fugitive servants to be returned.
This treaty rendered the cause of the Pequots hopeless, and secured the
safety of the English.
It was in the main observed by the Narragansets. They allowed the
colonial army to pass through their territories, and furnished five
hundred men for the war.
Uncas, the chief of the Mohegans, had also been an ally of the English
against the Pequots. After the destruction of this tribe, the three
parties declared a peace, and the spoils of the war were divided
between the allies. But the Narragansets and Mohegans were naturally
enemies. The latter were of the Pequot race, and Uncas himself, having
married the daughter of Sassacus, was but a revolted subject of that
great chief. It is said that one of Uncas' dependent sachems attacked
Miantonomo, who referred the matter to the English and was told to take
his own course, and invaded the Mohegan country with a thousand
warriors. The fortunes of war were against him and he fell into the
hands of Uncas. The victor now referred the fate of his victim to the
English. They decided that the rules of war permitted, and the safety
of Uncas required, the death of Miantonomo. They were careful,
however, not to permit his execution within their jurisdiction. The
colonies were responsible for the death of this chief. Uncas was
nominally their ally, but really their subject. From first to last
he did their bidding with a spirit so craven and a manner so
treacherous that he was neither trusted nor respected by them. But
the English in their death-warrant voluntarily offered to protect
Uncas from the consequences of Miantonomo's death. This was in 1643,
and thus did the English observe the treaty of peace made seven years
before under circumstances of extraordinary solemnity. Miantonomo died
the victim of rivalry, jealousy and fear, yet with a spirit so heroic
that he scorned to ask the precious boon of life from those whom he had
served rather than wronged. His death was the seed of the war of 1675,
--for how, under these circumstances, could Canonchet, his son and
successor, be other than the enemy of the English, the ready and
efficient ally of Philip.
But aside from particular incidents in the relations of the English to
the Indians there were three ever-operating causes of hostility.
1st. The mutual disposition of the English and the Indians to traffic
with each other. The colonies passed the most stringent laws for the
suppression of this traffic, or to make it a monopoly in their own
hands, and the government at home issued two or more proclamations.
These laws and proclamations had no great practical value, and the
Indians were constantly supplied with spirits, clothing, munitions and
weapons of war, either by the English, French, or Dutch. Thus trade
furnished an occasion for hostility, and the means of gratifying the
spirit of war.
2nd. There was a universal tendency in the people and governments of
the colonies to acquire land.
There was, however, a settled purpose on the part of the company in
England and the governments here to make this spirit conform to the
principles of honor and justice. In the company's letter of
instruction of April 17, 1629, Endicott and his Council were told that
"If any of the savages pretend right of inheritance to all or any part
of the lands granted in our patent, we pray you to endeavor to purchase
their title, that we may avoid the least scruple of intrusion." And in
a second letter of the 28th of May following, the same injunction is
imposed upon the settlers. Attempts were made to pursue the course
pointed out by the company, and a penalty of five pounds per acre was
imposed upon any person who should receive an Indian title without the
consent of the government. Governor Winslow, in 1676, writes thus: "I
think I can clearly say, that before the present trouble broke out, the
English did not possess one foot of land in this colony but what was
fairly obtained by honest purchase of the Indian proprietors."
It is no doubt true that for the most part the lands were purchased,
and, according to the idea of the English, honorably purchased, yet the
natives could not fail to foresee the result of these cessions of
territory. There were English settlements at Bridgewater, Middleboro',
Taunton, Rehoboth, Seekonk, and Swanzey, all within the ancient
jurisdiction of Massasoit. And as a perpetual monitor to Philip of
his limited domains, though in obedience to a different and highly
honorable motive, the people erected a fence quite across the neck of
land on the south of Swanzey, and thus confined the Pokanokets by metes
and bounds.
That Philip was annoyed by applications for land is evident from his
letter, without date, addressed to Governor Prince of Plymouth:
"Philip would intreat that favor of you, and any of the magistrates,
if any English or Indians speak about any land, he pray to give them no
answer at all. This last summer he made that promise with you, that
he would sell no land in seven years' time, for that he would have no
English trouble him before that time. He has not forgot that you
promise him."
The apostle Eliot, in a letter to the Massachusetts government, dated
in 1684, asking that certain fraudulent purchases of the Indians might
be annulled, puts this suggestive inquiry: "Was not a principal cause
of the late war about encroachments on Philip's land at Mount Hope?"
The third disturbing cause was the desire of our ancestors to convert
the Indian chiefs and tribes to Christianity. This was a primary and
chief object of the settlement of the country. Governor Craddock, in
a letter of February, 1629, to Endicott and his Council, says: "You
will demean yourselves justly and courteously toward the Indians,
thereby to draw them to affect our persons, and consequently our
religion." And the Governor of Massachusetts colony by his oath was
required to use his "best endeavor to draw on the natives of New
England to the knowledge of the true God." The company in England also
expressed the hope that the ministers who were sent out would, by
faithful preaching, godly conversation and exemplary lives, in God's
appointed time, reduce the Indians to the obedience of the Gospel of
Christ. And there is no fact in the history of the colonists
inconsistent with an earnest purpose to accomplish so desirable a
result. But the most formidable and warlike of the Indian tribes
resisted the introduction of Christianity, not on account of its
doctrines,--these they never comprehended; but its acceptance was
regarded by them as an acknowledgment of political inferiority. When
Philip protests against the jurisdiction of the English, he thinks to
establish his independence by asserting that he was never a praying
Indian. It naturally happened that those Indians who embraced
Christianity were more or less attached to the English, and soon
assumed the position of dependent inferiors. They were consequently
despised by such fierce spirits as swayed the Narraganset and Pokanoket
tribes. But the English were instant in season and out of season in
securing assent to their doctrines, though they must often have known
that there was neither conviction of the head nor conversion of the
heart. The colonists on some occasions even made a formal assent to
the Christian faith a condition of allegiance.
Although Uncas never received the Christian religion, his friendly
relations with the English gave him an importance and power which were
offensive to the neighboring tribes; and there is reason to suppose
that a desire to humble him was an element of the war.
The attack upon the Pequots, whether necessary or not, must have
produced an unfavorable impression upon the neighboring tribes; but
the death of Miantonomo was the cause of the undying hostility of the
Narragansets, and made Canonchet the ready coadjutor of King Philip,--
and without Canonchet Philip could never have been formidable to the
English.
But passing by all the occasions or causes of war to which I have
referred, we may presume from our knowledge of Philip's character,
that he considered his personal injuries a sufficient ground for
hostilities. Massasoit, his father, had been the firm friend but never
the subject of the English. He was rather their protector, and the
colonists ever maintained towards him the kindest feelings.
His son Alexander succeeded him. A suspicion was early entertained by
the English that he was plotting with the Narragansets. He was
summoned to appear at Plymouth, but he avoided the summons upon some
pretence, which probably had no real foundation. The Governor of
Plymouth with about ten men proceeded to compel his attendance.
Alexander was then upon a hunting excursion with a small party of
warriors. He was found in Middleboro', refreshing himself in a tent
after the fatigues of the chase. His arms, having been left outside,
were seized by the English. Some accounts state that Alexander went
voluntarily towards Plymouth, others say that the Governor told him
that if he did not go he was a dead man. But all accounts agree that
he was soon violently sick, and that the efforts to relieve him were
unavailing. He was allowed to return home and was borne away upon the
shoulders of his faithful warriors. Hubbard says, "Such was the pride
and height of his spirit, that the very surprisal of him so raised his
choler and indignation, that it put him into a fever, which,
notwithstanding all possible means that could be used, seemed mortal."
And so it proved.
Philip witnessed this unjust arrest of his brother, chief of a proud
and free race; he remembered his father's services and fidelity; he saw
his people dispossessed of their hunting grounds, and an unknown
religion zealously pressed upon them. To him there was in the present
only humiliation and disgrace, in the future only ignominy and death.
With this history and these gloomy anticipations of the future, Philip
became the sachem of the Pokanokets. He had never been a favorite
with the English, yet early in life they had named him Philip, and
his brother Wamsutta, Alexander; a singular yet just appreciation of
their high spirit and warlike character. The colonists justly regarded
these young men as dangerous to the public peace, and there was never
a moment of true friendship after the death of Massasoit.
The particular occasion of the war was the murder by Philip's agents of
one Sassamon, an educated Indian, who had been his private secretary.
Having in this confidential station obtained a knowledge of Philip's
plans, he went to the English, by whom he had been educated, and
probably disclosed his master's secrets. Philip secured his death, and
of all who fell in fight or fray, or on the gallows swung, none
deserved death before Sassamon. The comprehensive mind of Philip saw
at once the terrible nature and probable consequences of the war thus
brought upon him. It is said that he wept, and that from that time
forth he never smiled. But he laid new sacrifices upon the altar of
his people's liberty, invoked the spirit of his ancestors, and
exhibited resources and courage worthy of a heroic age.
He stood in a position of great and manifest peril. The English were
superior in numbers, comparatively well equipped, and above all united.
They had garrisoned towns to which they could fly. Philip's own tribe
was comparatively weak, but he easily associated the Narragansets with
him. But this combined force was inadequate to the emergency. He
united many of the tribes of Massachusetts, New Hampshire and
Connecticut, and as far as possible animated them with his own
unconquerable will. You may imagine him standing among the dark men of
the forest and with a rugged yet burning eloquence reciting the history
of their common wrongs, or with prophetic power lifting the veil from
the shadowy, though not to him uncertain, future.
He was continually subject to great personal dangers. A price was set
upon his head, the Christian Indians were allies of the English and
continually employed against him, while above all Uncas and the
Mohegans were his deadly enemies. Hunted by English and Indians,
assailed by famine and treachery, weakened by death and desertion, his
fate was inevitable. When his warriors had fallen in battle, been sold
into slavery or corrupted by bribes, when his old men and women, and
children had perished, when the first of the enemy had laid in ashes
the wigwams and villages of the Pokanokets and their allies, when to
his race there was neither seed-time nor harvest, he came to the home
of his ancestors, and there his troubled spirit, contrasting sadly in
death as in life with the placid scenes of nature around, passed
forever away. He fell by the hand of his own race,--
"Darkly, sternly, and all alone
A spoil--the richest and the last."
Philip's son, a boy nine years of age, was sold into slavery, and the
royal race of Massasoit was extinct.
As all our information of Carthage and the Punic wars has been
transmitted by Roman authors, so our knowledge of Philip and the war of
1675-6, is derived from partial and in some instances prejudiced
sources. Yet it is just to say that our ancestors made no concealment
of the facts, although the comments of Mather and Hubbard are often
strangely barbarous in spirit. And further, we may be certain that our
Pilgrim Fathers were true to the light that was in them; and that their
memory will grow green with years and blossom through the flight of
ages.
If to-day we have seen the bright side of Indian character, contrasted
with the few harsh features of the New England colonists, it is that
this occasion, while it calls forth feelings of gratitude and reverence
for the men and history of the Past may have somewhat of a practical
value in the Present and the Future. The men of the forest have not
disappeared entirely, though
"They waste--they shrink away;
And fast we follow, as they go
Towards the setting day."
And if in the Providence of God the race is soon to be extinct, let not
injustice, oppression, or war, increase their woes or hasten their decay.
XVIII
LOUIS KOSSUTH*
When Louis Kossuth landed in New York, December 5, 1851, he was not an
unknown personage. He and his native land had been made known to the
people of the United States by the Revolution of 1848 and the contest
of 1849 for the independence of Hungary. Until those events occurred,
Hungary was only a marked spot on the map of Europe, and the name of
Kossuth, as a leader in industrial and social progress, had not been
written or spoken on this side of the Atlantic; but in the year 1851
there was no other person of a foreign race and language of whose name
and career as much was known.
There was no exaggeration in Mr. Emerson's words of address to Kossuth:
"You have got your story told in every palace, and log hut, and prairie
camp throughout this continent."
From the first Kossuth recognized a special interest in the
commonwealth of Massachusetts. This interest was due in part to the
history of the State, from which he drew many lessons of instruction
and much confidence that personal liberty and the independence and
sovereignty of states would become universal possessions. Beyond these
considerations the invitation to him from Massachusetts was made
January 8, 1852,--among the first of the States of the Union.
In my annual address to the Legislature, delivered the 15th of January,
I said: "Your action will be regarded as an expression of the sympathy
of Massachusetts for the distinguished exile, and for the cause of
European liberty, which he so truly represents. The common sentiment
of America is on the side of constitutional governments."
The resolutions of the Legislature and the letter of the Governor were
presented to Kossuth at Pittsburg, Pa., January 26, by Hon. Erastus
Hopkins, then a member of the House of Representatives.
Kossuth's first speech in New England was made at New Haven, Thursday,
April 22. From what he there said some inferences may be drawn as to
his religious opinions and the basis on which, to him, the principles
of freedom seemed to rest:
"I know that there is one God in Heaven, the Father of all humanity,
and Heaven is therefore one. I know that there is one sun in the sky,
which gives light to all the world. As there is unity in God, and
unity in the light, so is there unity in the principles of freedom."
Upon his arrival in Boston, April 27, 1852, I met with him on the
steps of the State House, greeting him with the following speech:
"Governor Kossuth: As the voice of the Legislature and people of
Massachusetts, I welcome you to this capitol to-day.
"Your presence brings before us our own past, bitter in its experience,
but glorious in its history. We once had apostles of liberty on
whose heads a price was set, who were hunted by tyranny from their
homes, and threatened with expulsion from civilized life. That day of
oppression and anxiety with us is ended. It introduced a contest for
human rights, whose results on this continent you have seen, in the
extent, character and power of the American republic.
"The people of Massachusetts, inspired by their early history and
animated by the impulses of their hearts, greet you as one who has
nobly served and suffered in the cause of individual freedom and the
rights of states. Nor will their admiration be limited by any
consideration arising from the fate of your country, or the failure of
the patriotic hopes with which it was inspired.
"Liberty can never die. The generations of men appear and pass away,
but the principles and aspirations of their nature are immortal.
"Despotism is of time. It contains within itself the elements and the
necessity of decay and death.
"Fifty years of your eventful life are past; but take courage, sir, in
the belief that, in the providence of God, the moment is near when the
light of freedom shall penetrate the darkness of European despotism.
Then shall your own Hungary welcome you to her fields and mountains, to
her homes and heart; and we will welcome Hungary to the family of
republican, constitutional, sovereign states.
"In the name of the people, I tender to you the hospitalities of a
commonwealth founded by Exiles and Pilgrims."
To this welcome to the capitol of Massachusetts, Kossuth replied as
follows:
"I feel deeply sensible of the immense benefit which a happy and
prosperous people has conferred upon an unfortunate people. Moments
like the present can only be felt, not spoken. I feel a deep emotion,
sir. I am not ashamed of it. Allow me to say that, in taking that
hand, the hand of the people of Massachusetts, and having listened in
your voice to the sentiments and feelings of the people of
Massachusetts, I indeed cannot forbear to believe that humanity has
arrived at a great turning point in its destinies, because such a
sight was never yet seen on earth.
"Conquerors, triumphant and proud of success, confer honors and glory
on a poor exile, having nothing to speak for him but his misfortunes.
"Sir, the spirit of liberty is lasting; liberty cannot die, because it
has become the common sentiment of all humanity. The spirit of liberty
takes itself wings,--you are happy to be the first-born son of that
spirit; but we accept our condition just to be one of its martyrs; and
I look with hope, I look with confidence, into the future, because that
spirit which prepared for the poor exile the present day will be
recorded in the records of history, and will mark the destiny of coming
centuries. I cannot speak further. I am proud to have your hands in
mine.
"And be sure, sir, and let your generous people be sure of it, that,
whatever be our future destiny, we shall never, in our struggles and
misfortunes and adversities, we shall never forget the generous
Governor of Massachusetts, and the generous people of Massachusetts,
and they shall never have reason to regret that we have been honored
in this immense nation. God Almighty bless you, sir, and bless you all!
"I take these honors proudly, because I take them not for myself, but
in the name of my people, in whose name I express my most humble, my
eternal thanks."
Kossuth's visit to New England was confined, I think, to the States of
Massachusetts and Connecticut. He spoke at Hartford, at Springfield,
Northampton, Worcester, Lynn, Salem, Lowell, Fall River, Plymouth,
Lexington and Concord, received everywhere by enormous crowds, and
rousing everywhere an unexampled enthusiasm.
During his stay in Massachusetts he was introduced to audiences by
distinguished men, some of whom had achieved no inconsiderable
reputation as orators, and in most instances they were stimulated and
advanced rather then dwarfed by the presence of one whose powers were
far above the reach of ordinary speakers. Of these it is not invidious
to mention Emerson, Banks, Burlingame, Hopkins and Kellogg.
Of the many who spoke in the presence of Kossuth there was no one whose
words were more acceptable than were those of the venerable Josiah
Quincy. He was then eighty years of age. At the banquet in Faneuil
Hall he made a ten minutes' speech that glowed with the fire of youth.
Its spirit can be exhibited in a quotation of two short sentences:
"Age chills the feelings, and renders the heart cold; but I have still
feeling enough left to say to the hero of the Old World, Welcome to the
liberty of the New! I can say to the hero of Hungarian liberty,
Welcome to the peace and happiness of our western home." At the
commencement of his speech Kossuth said: "Before all, let me express a
word of veneration and thanks to that venerable gentleman" (pointing to
Mr. Quincy). "Sir, I believe when you spoke of age cooling the hearts
of men, you spoke the truth in respect to ordinary men, but you did
yourself injustice. The common excitement and warm blood of youth
pass away; but the heart of the wise man, the older it grows the
warmer it feels." It is difficult to imagine a more graceful impromptu
recognition of words of praise.
Kossuth's speech at Bunker Hill, more than his other speeches in New
England, bears marks of its Oriental origin. Pointing to the monument
he said: "My voice shrinks from the task to mingle with the awful
pathos of that majestic orator. Silent like the grave, and yet
melodious like the song of immortality upon the lips of cherubim, . . .
and thus it speaks: 'The day I commemorate is the rod with which the
hand of the Lord has opened the well of liberty. Its waters will flow;
every new drop of martyr blood will increase the tide; it will overflow
or break through. Bow, and adore, and hope.'" In the course of his
remarks he mentioned Gridley, Pollard, Knowlton and Warren, but he
appears not to have heard of Putnam and Prescott.
At Lexington he said he was inclined to smile at the controversy with
Concord, declaring that it was immaterial whether the fire of the
British was first returned at Lexington or Concord; that its was
immaterial whether those who fell at Lexington were "butchered martyrs,
or victims of a battle-field."
Kossuth was presented to Amariah Preston, aged ninety-four years, and
to Abijah Harrington, aged ninety-one years, veterans of the
Revolutionary war, and to Jonathan Harrington, then ninety-four years
of age, and the only survivor in Lexington of the action of April 19,
1775.
At Concord, Emerson said to the exile: "There is nothing accidental in
your attitude. We have seen that you are organically in that cause you
plead. The man of freedom, you are also the man of fate. You do not
elect, but you are elected by God and your genius to your task. We do
not, therefore, affect to thank you."
In his reply Kossuth appealed to Emerson to give to him and to his
cause the aid of his philosophical analysis, and to impress the
conviction upon the public mind that the Revolution, of which Concord
was the preface, was full of a higher destiny,--of a destiny as broad
as the world, as broad as humanity itself.
In that speech he anticipated Matthew Arnold in the remark, "One thing
I may own, that it is, indeed, true, everything good has yet been in
the minority; still mankind went on, and in going on to that destiny
the Almighty designed, when all good will not be confined to the
minority, but will prevail amongst all mankind." His speech at Concord
was not of his best, and there are indications that his estimate of
Emerson's supremacy as a philosopher and thinker subjected him to a
degree of restraint which he could not overcome.
Only once, as far as I know, did Kossuth speak of himself, except as
the chosen and legitimate representative of down-trodden Hungary, and
that was in his parting speech in Faneuil Hall, May 14, 1852: "Some
take me here for a visionary. Curious, indeed, if that man who, a
poor son of the people, has abolished an aristocracy of a thousand
years old, created a treasury of millions out of nothing, an army
out of nothing, and directed a revolution so as to fix the attention
of the whole world upon Hungary, and has beaten the old, well-provided
power of Austria, and crushed its future by its very fall, and
forsaken, abandoned, alone, sustained a struggle against two empires,
and made himself in his very exile feared by czars and emperors, and
trusted by foreign nations as well as his own,--if that man be a
visionary therefor, so much pride I may be excused, that I would like
to look face to face into the eyes of a practical man on earth."
In closing so much of my review of Kossuth's sojourn in Massachusetts
as relates to the incident of his visit to Boston and the neighboring
cities and towns, I may be permitted to devote a few lines to my
acquaintance with him. To my position as Governor of the State, to the
paragraph in my address to the Legislature, to my letter of invitation,
and to my speech of welcome from the steps of the State House, he gave
much more consideration than was deserved; and on many occasions I
received evidences of his friendship and confidence.
I class Kossuth among the small number of great men, whether he be
classed among orators, philosophers, students of history and
government, or as an advocate of the largest range of individual
freedom that is consistent with the good order of society.
The great orators have appeared and the great orations have been
delivered in revolutionary periods; and this has been illustrated most
strikingly when states have been menaced by the fear of transition from
a constitution of freedom to a government of tyranny. Of the great
orations of this class, the most significant are the orations of
Demosthenes in behalf of the imperiled liberties of Greece, and the
orations of Cicero in defence of his character and of his conduct in
the public service, and in denunciation of the crimes by which the
Republic of Rome was transformed into the Empire of the Caesars. In
modern times attention may be directed to the speech of James Otis on
the Writs of Assistance, to Burke's speech on Conciliation with
America, to Fisher Ames' speech on the Jay Treaty, and to Webster's
speech on Nullification.
In all these speeches, the ancient and modern alike, with the
exception of the speech of Fisher Ames, the inspiring, the controlling
sentiment is the sentiment of patriotism,--the claim to continued
independence and sovereignty in an existing condition, and the claim
to independence and sovereignty on the part of an aspiring people.
Burke was animated by a sense of patriotic duty to Britain and by a
sense of justice to her colonies in America. Fisher Ames'
argumentative speech was an appeal to the sense of justice of the
House of Representatives.
Of the speeches to which reference has been made, it is to be said that
the circumstances in which they had their origin were local, although
they may have embraced the affairs of an empire. In the main, the
considerations advanced were temporary in their relations to the
affairs of mankind. In its very nature patriotism is local, and the
considerations by which the sentiment is stimulated relate usually to
the conditions and events in the country where the sentiment is
evolved. Moreover, a manifestation of the sentiment of patriotism in
one people is accompanied usually with a degree of hostility to some
other community or nation, and in its excesses it often fosters a
disregard for the just rights of others. Nor is the sentiment or
sense of justice usually universal in its application. As it is
manifested in individuals and communities, it too often embodies a
degree of selfishness, from which neither states nor individuals are
exempt.
In like manner the words "freedom" and "liberty," in their application,
have been limited to classes and castes, and to individual communities
and states. The earliest and best expression of the universality of
the idea of liberty belongs to America, but in America even its
practical realization is a recent event. Previous to the nineteenth
century, America was the only land in which it was possible to found a
state freed from the domination of the church, or to establish a church
free from the domination of the state; and in one half of the American
continent this degree of freedom does not exist even now, when we
approach the twentieth century.
Of the great orators of the world, it was Louis Kossuth who first gave
to the word "liberty" the largest possible signification. Burke
approached the idea, but he seemed not to comprehend its universality.
In his oration on Conciliation with America he said: "In Virginia and
the Carolinas they have a vast multitude of slaves. When this is the
case in any part of the world, those who are free are by far the most
proud and jealous of their freedom. Freedom is to them not only an
enjoyment, but a kind of rank and privilege. Not seeing, then, that
freedom as in countries where it is a common blessing, and as broad and
general as the air, may be united with much abject misery, with all the
exterior of servitude, liberty looks among them like something that is
more noble and liberal."
Although Burke speaks of countries where freedom was a common blessing,
it is apparent that the expression was a figure of speech rather than a
statement of existing facts. Kossuth came to the Western World, not as
the exponent merely of the sufferings and wrongs endured by the people
of Hungary, but he announced and advocated boldly the most advanced
theories of individual and national freedom, and of the mutuality of
the obligations resting upon states.
Of the many speeches made by Kossuth in the United States, precedence
may be given to his speech in Faneuil Hall, April 29, 1852. In that
speech he announced in all its fulness his comprehensive idea of
liberty: "Cradle of American Liberty! it is a great name; but there
is something in it which saddens my heart. You should not say
_American liberty._ You should say _Liberty in America._ Liberty
should not be either American or European,--it should be just
_liberty_. God is God. He is neither America's God nor Europe's God;
he is God. So should liberty be. 'American liberty' has much the
sound as if you would say 'American privilege.' And there is the
rub. Look to history, and when your heart saddens at the fact that
liberty never yet was lasting in any corner of the world, and in any
age, you will find the key of it in the gloomy truth that all who were
yet free regarded liberty as their privilege, instead of regarding it
as a principle. The nature of every privilege is exclusiveness, that
of a principle is communicative. Liberty is a principle,--its
community is it security,--exclusiveness is its doom. What is
aristocracy? It is exclusive liberty; it is privilege; and aristocracy
is doomed, because it is contrary to the destiny and welfare of man.
Aristocracy should vanish, not _in_ the nations, but also from
_amongst_ the nations. So long as that is not done, liberty will
nowhere be lasting on earth . . . A privilege never can be lasting.
Liberty restricted to one nation never can be sure. You may say, 'We
are the prophets of God'; but you shall not say, 'God is only _our_
God.' The Jews have said so, and the pride of Jerusalem lies in the
dust."
Through all his speeches the thought of the universality of liberty,
and the doctrine that there is a community in man's destiny, can be
discerned. His later speeches, and especially his speeches made after
his tour through the South, indicate a loss of confidence in the
disposition of the country to give substantial aid to the cause of
Hungary, and thenceforward the loss of hope was apparent in his
conversation and speeches. Indeed, before he left the country, his
thoughts were directed most largely to the care of his mother, wife
and sisters, who, like himself, were exiles and destitute of the means
of subsistence. It is not probable that he anticipated at any time
any other assistance than that which might follow an official
announcement by the national authorities of an opinion adverse to
interference by any state in the affairs of other states. His visit
to Washington satisfied him that no such expression of opinion would
be made by Congress, or by the administration of President Fillmore.
On the thirtieth day of April, 1852, Kossuth closed a speech in
Faneuil Hall, which had occupied two hours and a half in its delivery,
with these words: "I cannot better express my thanks than to pledge my
word, relying, as I have said on another occasion of deep interest,
upon the justice of our cause, the blessing of God, iron wills, stout
arms and good swords, and upon your generous sympathy, to do all in my
power with my people, for my country, and for humanity." Thus, as he
approached the end of his career in America, he abandoned the thought
of securing active interference, or, indeed, of official support in
behalf of Hungary, whatever might have been his hopes when he landed
in the United States.
During the period of Kossuth's visit, from December, 1851, to June,
1852, the attention of the country was directed to the approaching
Presidential election, and in public speeches and in conversations
he attributed his failure to secure the endorsement of Congress and of
legislative assemblies to that circumstance. In his first speech in
Faneuil Hall he said, "Would it had been possible for me to have come
to America either before that contest was engaged, or after it will be
decided! I came, unhappily, in a bad hour." That Kossuth attributed
too much importance to that circumstance, there can be no doubt.
Other, deeper-seated and more adverse causes were at work. The advice
and instructions of Washington as to the danger of entangling foreign
alliances were accepted as authority by many, and as binding traditions
by all. Consequently, there was not, and could not have been, any time
in the century when his appeal would have been answered by an
aggressive step, or even by an official declaration in behalf of his
cause.
Co-operating with this general tendency of public opinion, there
existed a latent sentiment in the slave States and everywhere among
the adherents and defenders of slavery that the mission of Kossuth was
a menace to that peculiar institution. Of this face he was convinced
by his visit to Washington and his brief tour in the slave States. At
Worcester a man in the crowd had shouted, "We worship not the man, but
we worship the principle." The slave-holders were interested in the
man, but they feared his principles; and well they might fear his
principles for he was the avowed enemy of all castes and all artificial
distinctions among men. Hence it was that he was avoided by the
leaders of the Democratic Party, and hence it was that his special
friends and supporters were Abolitionists, Free-soilers and Anti-
slavery Democrats.
This condition of public opinion and of party division was reached as
early as the twenty-ninth day of April, when Kossuth said: "Many a man
has told me that if I had not fallen into the hands of the
Abolitionists and Free-soilers, he would have supported me; and had I
landed somewhere in the South, instead of New York, I would have met
quite different things from that quarter; but being supported by the
Free-soilers, of course I must be opposed by the South." All this was
error. If Kossuth had been spurned by the Abolitionists and Free-
soilers, he would not have been accepted by the South; for there was
not a _quadrennium_ from 1832 to 1860 when that section would have
contributed to the election of Thomas Jefferson to the Presidency with
the weight of the Declaration of Independence upon his shoulders, as it
came from his pen, had he been in existence and eligible to the office.
Support of Kossuth, by aggressive action of by official declarations
against Austria and Russia, was an impossibility for the country; and
an open avowal of sympathy with his opinions and principles was an
impossibility for the South or for the Democratic Party.
Henceforward Kossuth's hopes were limited to pecuniary aid for himself
and his family and friends, and to expressions of sympathy for his
downtrodden country by individuals, by voluntary associations, and by
municipalities. All his speeches after his visit to Washington were
laden with one thought, viz., the duty of all free countries to resist
the spread of absolutism. Pre-eminently this duty was upon America.
"Republican America," said he, "and all-overwhelming Russian
absolutism cannot much longer subsist together on earth. Russia
active,--America passive,--there is an immense danger in the fact; it
is like the avalanche in the Alps, which the noise of a bird's wing
may move and thrust down with irresistible force, growing every moment."
He quoted the declaration which the elder Cato made whenever he spoke,
whether in private or in public: "However, my opinion is that Carthage
must be destroyed." Imitating the language and spirit of Cato, Kossuth
said: "However, the law of nations should be maintained, and
absolutism not permitted to become permanent."
That he exaggerated the scope of what is called the law of nations
there can be no doubt. Beyond a few points, such as the recognized
rule in regard to piracy, the law of nations is very indefinite, and
most certainly it has but little relation, if indeed it can be said
justly to have any relation, to what he called "absolutism." Moreover,
it is very doubtful whether any interference by one nation in the
affairs of another nation, in whatever considerate way such
interference might by presented, could produce aught but evil, in
arousing the passions of jealously and hostility. Had England and the
United States tendered any advice even in the affairs of Austria,
Hungary and Russia, such advice would have been rejected by the
nations, and indignities would have been heaped upon the officious
parties. All that part of Kossuth's mission to England and the United
States was hopeless from the beginning, and it seems to be an
impeachment of his wisdom to assume that he ever entertained the
thought that either country could or would make the cause of Hungary
its own, whatever might be the general or official opinion as to the
justice of the contest that Hungary had carried on.
His speeches and his private conversations justify the inference that
he had a hope that in some way the influence of England and the United
States might be exerted effectually in behalf of Hungary, and that
through that influence the activity of Russia might be arrested.
Although he looked to France for aid to the cause of Hungary, he
regarded the _coup d'etat_ of Napoleon as an adverse event,--as a step
and an important step in the direction of "absolutism." On one
occasion he said: "Look how French Napoleonish papers frown
indignantly at the idea that the Congress of the United States dared to
honor my humble self, declaring those honors to be not only offensive
to Austria, but to all the European powers."
Mr. Webster delivered a speech in Boston in the month of November,
1849, when it was apprehended that Russia might assume the task of
demanding of Turkey the surrender of Kossuth and others, and of
executing them for crimes against Austria. On that occasion Mr.
Webster claimed that the Emperor of Russia was "bound by the law of
nations"; and to that declaration Kossuth often referred. The full
text of Mr. Webster's speech leaves upon the mind the impression that
what he then called "the law of nations" was only that general judgment
of the civilized nations before which the Czar of Russia "would stand
as a criminal and malefactor in the view of the public law of the
world." Having this declaration in mind, Kossuth said: "It was a
beautiful word of a distinguished son of Massachusetts (Mr. Webster),
which I like to repeat, that every nation has precisely the same
interest in international law that a private individual has in the laws
of his country." Mr. Webster's speech did not justify the inference
which Kossuth drew from it; but the speech itself was much less
reserved than that which Mr. Webster delivered in 1852, when he held
the office of Secretary of State, and spoke for the administration,
at a banquet given in the city of Washington in Kossuth's honor.
When Kossuth had abandoned the hope, which his intense interest in the
fate of his country had inspired, that the United States might act in
behalf of Hungary, he yet returned again and again to the subject. On
one occasion he said; "I take it for an axiom that there exist
interests common to every nation comprised within the boundaries of
the same civilization. I take it equally for certain that among these
common interest none is of higher importance than the principles of
international law." Nor did he hesitate to say that our indifference
to the spread of "absolutism" would be attended with serious and
grievous consequences: "To look indifferently at these encroachments
is as much as a spontaneous abdication of the position of a power on
earth. And that position abandoned, is independence abandoned." He
declared that neutrality did "not involve the principles of
indifferentism to the violation of the law of nations"; and he
attempted to stimulate the national pride by the declaration that
neutrality was the necessity of weak states, like Belgium and Switzer-
land, whose neutrality was due the rivalry of other powers, and not to
their own will.
These appeals were in vain, although they were made in language most
attractive, and although the sympathies of the people were sincere and
active in behalf of Hungary. His mission was a failure, inasmuch as
neither by argument, by eloquence, nor by sympathy was he able to
secure an official declaration or promise of a purpose in the national
authorities to interfere in the affairs of Continental Europe.
Kossuth's personal wants and the necessities of his family and friends
were met by the sale of Hungarian bonds and by voluntary contributions;
but no substantial aid was given to Hungary in its contest with Austria
and Russia.
In his many speeches Kossuth set forth his views upon national and
international topics with freedom, and often with great wisdom. Said
he on one occasion: "I take political economy for a science not
exactly like mathematics. It is quite a practical thing, depending
upon circumstances; but in certain proceedings a negative principle
exists. In political economy it is not good for the people that a
prohibitory system be adopted. Protection may sometimes be of service
to a nation, but prohibition never." Thus did he qualify the claim
of authors and students, who assert that political economy deserves
rank among the sciences, whether exact or speculative, and thus did he
recognize the protective theory as adapted to the condition of states
while in the transition period in the development of the higher
industries.
It was a favorite thought with Kossuth that England would become
republican, and that the United States and republican England could
lead the world in civilization and in the work and duty of elevating
the masses. His influence in Hungary had been due, in a large measure,
to his active agency in the work of establishing associations for the
advancement of agriculture, public education, commerce, and the
mechanic arts. He deprecated the opposition of the Irish in America
to any and every form of alliance with England, and he did not hesitate
to condemn the demand of O'Connell for the repeal of the union between
England and Ireland. Said he: "If I could contribute one line more
to the future unity in action of the United States and England, I
should more aid the Irish than by all exclamations against one or the
other. With the United States and England in union, the Continent of
Europe would be republican. Then, though England remained monarchist,
Ireland would be more free than it is now."
It is a singular incident in Kossuth's history, in connection with
Irish affairs, that in one of his speeches he foreshadowed Gladstone's
Home Rule policy,--but upon the basis of a legislative assembly for
each of the three principal countries, England, Scotland and Ireland.
Thus did he indicate a public policy for Great Britain that has been
accepted in part by the present government,--a policy that is to be
accepted by the English nation and upon the broad basis laid down by a
foreigner and sojourner, who had had only limited means for observation.
"If I were an Irishman, I would not have raised the standard of repeal,
which offended the people of England, but the standard of municipal
self-government against parliamentary omnipotence; not as an Irish
question, but as a common question to all; and in this movement all
the people of England and Scotland would have joined, and there now
would have been a Parliament in England, in Ireland and Scotland. Such
is the geographical position of Great Britain that its countries
should be, not one, but united, each with its own parliament, but still
one parliament for all."
Although forty years have passed without the fulfillment of Kossuth's
prophetic declaration of a public policy, its realization is not only
possible, but probable. To the American mind, with our experience and
traditions, such a solution of the Irish question seems easy,
practicable, safe. We have States larger than Ireland, States smaller
than Ireland, in which the doctrine of self-government finds a
practical application. Not free from evils, not free from
maladministration; but if our States are judged at half-century
intervals, it will appear that they are moving with regular and certain
steps towards better conditions. There is not one American State in
which the condition of the people in matters of education, in personal
and public morals, in industrial intelligence, in wealth and in the
means of further improvement, has not been advanced, essentially, in
the last fifty years. If all the apprehensions touching the evils and
dangers of self-government in Ireland were well founded, there is an
assurance in our experience that the people themselves would discover
and apply an adequate remedy.
Kossuth was an orator; and every orator is of necessity something of a
prophet. He is more than a historian who deals only with the past,
illustrated with reflections, called philosophical, concerning the
events of the past. With the orator those events are recalled and
reviewed for encouragement or warning. The eye of the orator is
turned to the future. The peroration of Mr. Webster's speech in reply
to Hayne contains a prophetic description of the Civil War as it was
experienced by the succeeding generation. Fisher Ames' bold prediction
as to the disposition of convicts to found and to maintain good
government has been realized in the history of Van Diemen's Land. Said
Ames: "If there could be a resurrection from the foot of the gallows,
if the victims of justice could live again, collect together, and form
a society, they would, however loath, soon find themselves obliged to
make justice--that justice under which they fell--the fundamental law
of their state."
Nor did the spirit of prophecy desert Kossuth, in regard to Louis
Napoleon. In 1852 he said: "The fall of Louis Napoleon, though old
monarchial elements should unite to throw him up, can have no other
issue than a republic,--a republic more faithful to the community of
freedom in Europe than all the former revolutions have been."
He seemed also to foresee the unity of Italy, although he overestimated
the tendency there towards republican institutions. He declared that
Austria studded the peninsula of Italy with bayonets, and that she was
able to send her armies to Italy because Russia guarded her eastern
frontier. His residence in Italy for a third of a century was due to
his admiration for the history of the Italian peoples, and his belief
in the capacity of the Italian races for the business of government.
"The spirit of republican liberty, the warlike genius of ancient Rome,
were never extinguished between the Alps and the Faro." He declared
that every stain upon the honor of Italy was connected with foreign
rule, and that the petty tyrants of Italy had been kept on their
tottering thrones through the intervention of Austria, Germany and
France.
At the end he placed the responsibility for the domination of
absolutism upon the Continent of Europe to the intervention of
Russia and to her recognized supremacy in war. He appreciated the
fact that Russia in coalition with Austria or Germany or France was
more than the equal of the residue of the Continent, whether combined
for offensive or defensive operations.
In the many speeches which Kossuth made in the United States, he
endeavored to impress upon his hearers the conviction that absolutism,
under which Europe was then groaning, would extend to America. This
view made a slight impression only. To the common mind the ocean and
the distance seemed a sufficient protection. In the lifetime of
Kossuth, absolutism, both in church and state, has lost much of power
on the Continent of Europe, while in America it has no abiding place.
Kossuth did not err in his opinion as to the policy of Russia in
European affairs; but that policy never extended to America, even in
thought. Of that policy Kossuth said: "It is already long ago that
Czar Alexander of Russia declared that henceforth governments should
have no particular policy, but only a common one, the policy of safety
to all governments; as if governments were the aim for which nations
exist, and not nations the aim for which governments exist."
Finally, he came to look upon Russia as the master of all Europe, and
he sought to impress upon his hearers in America the opinion that the
time would come when Russia would seek for mastery in the affairs of
this continent. This apprehension on his part was not accepted by
any class of his hearers and followers, and the cession of Alaska must
have quieted the apprehension which had taken possession of Kossuth's
mind.
In passing from so much of Kossuth's career in America as relates to
his public policy and to his views upon public questions, it can be
said that he entertained the broadest ideas of personal liberty and of
the independence and sovereignty of states, coupled with an obligation
binding all states to protect each and every state from the aggressive
action of any other state.
It was his hope that England and the United States would unite, and
by counsel, if not by active intervention, check, and in the end
control, Russia in its manifest purpose to dominate over the Continent
of Europe. This hope has not been realized. In no instance have the
United States and England co-operated for the protection of any other
state, and the influence of Russia on the Continent of Europe was
never greater than it now is. Manifestly, England is the only
obstacle to the domination of Russia over the Bosphorus.
In these forty years, Hungary has gained as a component part of the
Austrian Empire, but, in the ratio of the augmentation of its power,
the tendency to independence and to a republican form of government
has diminished. The demonstrations that followed Kossuth's death
are evidence, however, that his teachings have affected the student
classes in Hungary, and it is possible that those teachings are
destined to work changes in Hungary and Italy in favor of republican
institutions.
Kossuth's teachings were in harmony with the best ideas that have
been accepted in regard to state policy, international relations, and
individual rights; but he was in advance of his own age and in advance
of this age. For Europe he was an unpractical statesman, and in
America he demanded what could not be granted. It does not follow,
however, that his labors were in vain. He aroused the American mind to
a higher sense of the power and dignity of the American nation, and he
set forth the influence that England and the United States might exert
in the affairs of the world whenever they should co-operate in an
international public policy. He maintained the cause of universal
liberty. At West Cambridge Kossuth said: "Liberty was not granted
to your forefathers as a selfish boon; your destiny is not completed
till, by the aid and influence of America, the oppressed nations are
regenerated and made free."
These words were not wholly visionary, and in these forty years since
they were uttered some progress has been made. The empires of Brazil
and France have been transformed into republics, slavery has been
abolished in North and South America, the weak states of Italy have
been united in one government, the German Empire has been created, and
all in the direction of popular liberty and with manifest preparation
for the republican form of government. Nor can it be said justly that
there has been a retrograde movement in any part of the world. These
changes would have come to pass without Kossuth; but it is to his
credit that his teachings were coincident with the trend of events,
and they may have contributed to the accomplished results.
In 1849 Mr. Webster compared Kossuth to Wycliffe, by the quotation of
the lines:
"The Avon to the Severn runs,
The Severn to the sea;
And Wycliffe's dust shall spread abroad,
Wide as the waters be."
It is not easy to form an opinion of Kossuth's place as an orator,
when considered in comparison or in contrast with other orators. He
had but one central theme, the cause of Hungary, and on that theme he
spoke many hundred times, and never with any offensive or tedious
repetitions. In Massachusetts alone he delivered thirty-four speeches
and orations, and it may be said that all of them were carefully
prepared, and most of them were reduced to writing. His topics were
the wrongs inflicted upon Hungary, the sufferings endured by his
country, the dominating and dangerous influence of Russia in the
affairs of Europe, the duty of England and America to resist that
influence, the mission of the government and people of the United
States to labor for the extension of free institutions and the
blessings of liberty to the less favored nations of the world,--all
made attractive by references to general, local and personal histories.
As one test, and a very important test, of the presence of unusual
power, it can be said that no other orator ever made so many acceptable
addresses upon allied topics.
His cause did much for him. For im and for his country there was deep-
seated and universal sympathy. In his case, with unimportant
exceptions, there were no prejudices, or passions, or principles, or
traditions, to be overcome. Our history, whether as exiles, as
revolutionists, or as pioneers in the cause of freedom, contributed
materially to the success of his orations and speeches. All who heard
him were astonished at the knowledge of our history, both local and
general, which he exhibited. When he came to the old Hancock House in
Boston, he mentioned the fact without waiting for information, so
carefully had he studied the features of the city in advance of his
visit. There were three persons in his suite who devoted themselves
to the preparation of his speeches,--Gen. Klapka, Count Pulszky and
Madame Pulszky. Their knowledge of Kossuth's mind was such that they
were able to mark the passages in local histories and biographies
that would be useful to him in his addresses. Those of his speeches
which were prepared were written by these assistants, to whom he
dictated the text. By their aid he was able to prepare his speeches
with a celerity that was incomprehensible to the Western mind.
His first speech in Boston was delivered the twenty-seventh day of
April, 1852, the day that he completed his fiftieth year. When in
private conversation I spoke of the circumstance that it was my
good fortune to welcome him to the State on that anniversary, he said:
"Yes, it is a marked day; but unless my poor country is saved I shall
soon wither away and die."
His voice, whether in public speech or in private conversation,
commanded sympathy by its tones, even when his words were not
comprehended. In his oratory there was exaggeration in statement, a
characteristic that is common to orators, but not more strongly marked
in the speeches of Kossuth than in the speeches of those with whom he
might be compared.
His powers of imagination were not extraordinary, and of word painting
he has not left a single striking example,--not one passage that can be
used for recitation or declamation in the schools. His cause was too
pressing, his manner of life was too serious, for any indulgences in
speech. In every speech he had an object in view; and even when he was
without hope for Hungary in the near future, he yet announced and
advocated doctrines and truths on which he relied for the political
regeneration of Europe. He spoke to propositions,--clearly, concisely,
convincingly.
In one oratorical art Kossuth was a adept; he deprecated all honors to
himself, and with great tact he transferred them to his country and to
the cause that he represented:
"As to me, indeed, it would be curious if the names of the great men
who invented the plough and the alphabet, who changed the corn into
flour and the flour into bread, should be forgotten, and my name
remembered.
"But if in your expectations I should become a screen to divert, for a
single moment, your attention from my country's cause and attract it
to myself, I entreat you, even here, to forget me, and bestow all your
attention and your generous sympathy upon the cause of my downtrodden
fatherland."
Kossuth gave rise to just criticism in that he appealed too often and
too elaborately to the local and national pride of his audiences. This
criticism was applicable to his speeches in England and in America.
In every attempt to fix Kossuth's place in the list of historical
orators,--and in that list he must have a conspicuous place,--certain
considerations cannot be disregarded, viz.:
First, he spoke to England and American in a language that he acquired
when he had already passed the middle period of life. The weight of
this impediment he felt when he said, "Spirit of American eloquence,
frown not at my boldness that I dare abuse Shakespeare's language in
Faneuil Hall."
Second, we are to consider the amount of work performed in a brief
period of time, and the conditions under which it was performed.
Between the twenty-fifth day of April and the fourteenth day of May,
1852, Kossuth delivered thirty speeches in Massachusetts, containing,
on an average, more than two thousand words in each speech, and not a
sentence inappropriate to the occasion. These speeches were prepared
and written in the intervals between the ceremonial proceedings, which
occurred as often as every day.
Third, though his theme had many aspects, and these varying aspects
Kossuth presented with such skill as to command the attention of his
hearers, yet his theme was always the same,--the wrongs of Hungary.
On the twentieth, the twenty-fourth, and the twenty-fifth days of May,
1859, Kossuth delivered speeches in London, Manchester, and Bradford,
England. The Lord Mayor presided at the meeting in London, and the
meetings one and all were designed to aid the Liberal Party in the
then pending general election. Kossuth's visit to England and the
purpose of the visit were due to an arrangement with the Emperor
Napoleon, from which Kossuth was led to expect the liberation of
Hungary from the grasp of Austria as one of the essential purposes of
the war in which France and Austria were engaged. As the result of an
interview with the Emperor on the night of the 5th of May, Kossuth
visited England in aid of the Liberal Party, and in the belief that
the accession of that party to power would secure the neutrality of
that country. Hence the wisdom and the duty of neutrality were the
topics to which Kossuth devoted himself during his short stay in
England. The Liberal Party triumphed, but the triumph was brief, and
the disposition of the new ministry was not tested.
Kossuth's speeches of 1859 at the London Tavern, at a meeting presided
over by the Lord Mayor, and at Manchester and at Bradford, present him
at his best. He had received a pledge from Napoleon that if he could
secure the neutrality of England, and would organize a Hungarian legion
for service in the war with Austria, the liberation of Hungary should
be regarded as a necessary condition of peace. Such, at least, was the
interpretation which Kossuth put upon these words of the Emperor,
spoken at the midnight meeting of May 5, 1859: "We beg you to proceed
forthwith with your scheme; and be convinced that in securing the
neutrality of England you will have removed the greatest obstacle that
stands in the way of the realization of your patriotic hopes."
In a preliminary conversation with Prince Napoleon, held at the
instance of the Emperor, Kossuth had stipulated that the Emperor should
publish a proclamation to the Hungarian nation, announcing his
confederation with the Hungarians as their friend and ally, and for the
purpose of carrying into effect the Declaration of Independence of
1849. The obligations assumed by Kossuth were faithfully performed.
General Klapka organized a legion in Italy of four thousand Hungarians.
The overthrow of the Tory Party in England, which Kossuth had predicted
and promised, was achieved, and thus the neutrality of Great Britain
was secured.
Kossuth's speeches in England were delivered under the influence of the
highest incentives by which an orator and patriot could be moved. With
the utmost confidence in his ability to perform what he had promised,
he had pledged his honor for the neutrality of England. As he then
believed, the fate of Hungary was staked upon the fulfilment of that
pledge. Hence it came to pass that his speeches in England in May,
1859, were on a higher plane than the speeches that he delivered in
the years 1851 and 1852. At the former period he had no hope of
immediate relief for Hungary; in 1859 he imagined that the day of the
deliverance of his country was at hand, and that the neutrality of
England was a prerequisite, or at least a coincident condition.
It is not too much to say that the following extract from his speech in
the London Tavern justifies every claim that has been made in behalf of
Kossuth as a patriot and an orator:
"The history of Italy during the last forty years is nothing but a
record of groans, of evergrowing hatred and discontent, of ever-
recurring commotions, conspiracies, revolts and revolutions, of
scaffolds soaked in the blood of patriots, of the horrors of Spielberg
and Mantua, and of the chafing anger with which the words, 'Out with
the Austrians,' tremble on the lips of every Italian. These forty
years are recorded in history as a standing protest against those
impious treaties. The robbed have all the time loudly protested, by
words, deeds, sufferings, and sacrifice of their lives, against the
compact of the robbers. Yet, forsooth, we are still told that the
treaties of 1815 are inviolable. Why, I have heard it reported that
England rang with a merry peal when the stern inward judge, conscience,
led the hand of Castlereagh to suicide; and shall we, in 1859, be
offered the sight of England plunging into the incalculable calamities
of a great war for no better purpose than to uphold the accursed work
of the Castlereaghs, and from no better motive than to keep the House
of Austria safe?
"Inviolable treaties, indeed. Why, my lord, the forty-four years that
have since passed have riddled those treaties like a sieve. The
Bourbons, whom they restored to the throne of France, have vanished,
and the Bonapartes, whom they proscribed, occupy the place of the
Bourbons on the throne of France. And how many changes have not been
made in the state of Europe, in spite of those 'inviolable treaties'?
Two of these changes--the transformation of Switzerland from a
confederation of states into a confederated state, and the independence
of Belgium--have been accomplished to the profit of liberty. But for
the rest, the distinctive features through which those treaties have
passed is this, that every poor plant of freedom which they had spared
has been uprooted by the unsparing hand of despotism. From the
republic of Cracow, poor remnant of Poland, swallowed by Austria, down
to the freedom of the press guaranteed to Germany, but reduced to such
a condition that, in the native land of Guttenberg, not one square yard
of soil is left to set a free press upon, everything that was not evil
in those inviolable treaties has been trampled down, to the profit of
despotism, of concordats, of Jesuits, and of benighting darkness. And
all these violations of the inviolable treaties were accomplished
without England's once shaking her mighty trident to forbid them. And
shall it be recorded in history that when the question is how to drive
Austria from Italy, when the natural logic of this undertaking might
present my own native country with a chance for that deliverance to
which England bade God-speed with a mighty outcry of sympathy rolling
like thunder from John O'Groat's to Land's End,--that deliverance for
which prayers have ascended, and are ascending still, to the Father of
mankind from millions of British hearts,--shall it be recorded in
history that at such a time, that under such circumstances, England
plunged into the horrors and calamities of war, nay, that she took
upon herself to make this war prolonged and universal, for the mere
purpose of upholding the inviolability of those rotten treaties in
favor of Austria, good for nothing on earth except to spread darkness
and to perpetuate servitude?
"There you have that Austria in Piedmont carrying on war in a manner
that recalls to memory the horrors of the long gone-by ages of
barbarism. You may read in the account furnished to the daily papers,
by their special correspondents, that the rigorously disciplined
soldiers of Austria were allowed to act the part of robbers let loose
upon an unoffending population, to offer violence to unprotected
families, to outrage daughters in the presence of their parents, and
to revel in such other savage crimes as the blood of civilized men
curdles at hearing and the tongue falters in relating. Such she was
always--always. These horrors but faintly reflect what Hungary had
to suffer from her in our late war. And shall it be said that England,
the home of gentlemen, sent her brave sons to shed their blood and to
stain their honor in fighting side by side with such a _soldatesca_ for
those highwayman compacts of 1815 to the profit of that Austria?"
With the treaty of Villafranca, July 11, 1859, Kossuth abandoned all
hope of the independence of Hungary. There can be no doubt that, from
the first, Napoleon intended to abandon Kossuth and his cause when he
had made use of his influence in England and in Italy for his own
purposes. The armistice and the peace with Austria were inaugurated by
Napoleon; and when, at the last moment, Emperor Francis Joseph raised
difficulties upon some points in the treaty, Prince Napoleon, who was
a party to the conference, threatened him with a revolution in Italy
and in Hungary. As to Kossuth, his only solace was in the reflection
that he had stayed the tendency to revolution on the soil of Hungary,
and thus his countrymen had been saved from new calamities.
Thenceforward Kossuth had before him only a life of exile; but he
reserved for his children the right, and he set before them the duty,
of returning to their native land.
I am giving large space to the visit of Kossuth in the belief that the
country is moving away from the doctrines of self-government as a
common right of mankind, as they were taught by him and as they were
accepted generally until we approached the end of the nineteenth
century.
In Faneuil Hall Kossuth made these striking remarks. Addressing
himself to America, he said: "You have prodigiously grown by your
freedom of seventy-five years; but what are seventy-five years to take
for a charter of immortality! No, no, my humble tongue tells the
record of eternal truth. A privilege never can be lasting. Liberty
restricted to one nation never can be sure. You may say 'we are the
prophets of God,' but you shall not say, 'God is only our God.' The
Jews have said so and the pride of Jerusalem lies in the dust! Our
Saviour taught all humanity to say _'Our Father in Heaven,'_ and his
Jerusalem is 'lasting to the end of days.'"
His style was that of a scholar who had mastered the English language
by the aid of books. His idiomatic expressions were few. In one of
his speeches when urging his audience to demand active intervention in
behalf of Hungary he attempted to use the phrase, "You should take time
by the forelock." At the last word he came to a dead pause and
substituted a twist of his own forelock with his right hand. He thus
commanded the hearty cheers of his hearers. It is probable that the
expedient was forced upon Kossuth, but the art of a skilled orator
might have suggested such a device.
Kossuth was small in stature, not more than five feet seven inches in
height, and weighing not more than one hundred and forty pounds. His
eyes and hair were black, his complexion dark, giving the impression
that he did not belong to the Caucasian race. His career was a
meteoric display in political oratory, such as the world does not often
witness. His integrity cannot be questioned, and for more than a third
of a century he submitted to a life of exile rather than accept a home
under a government which he thought was a usurpation. He gave to the
country new ideas, and his name and fame will be traditional for a long
period of time.
When Kossuth was in America he looked upon General Gorgey as a traitor
and he was so regarded by the friends of Hungary generally. In the
year 1885, however, a testimonial was presented to General Gorgey by
about thirty of the survivors of the contest of 1848, in which they
exonerated him from that charge. General Klapka was among the signers,
but the name of Kossuth did not appear upon the memorial.
At the end of the nineteenth century neither Massachusetts nor any
other State could or would accord to an exile for liberty the reception
that was given to Kossuth in 1852.
The expenses of his reception in Massachusetts, and of the
entertainment of his suite were paid by an appropriation from the
public treasury. He was given a public reception by the Governor of
the State, and a like reception was given to him by each House of the
Legislature in suspended session.
He was further honored by a review on Boston Common of a fourth part of
the organized militia of the commonwealth. The assemblages of citizens
were as large in proportion to the population of the State as were ever
gathered upon any other occasion.
Kossuth visited fifteen of the principal cities and towns of the State
and in each of them he delivered one address or more. His theme was
always the same, but his variety of argument and illustration seemed
inexhaustible. At Cambridge he urged the students to so use their
powers as to "promote their country's welfare and the rights of
humanity."
The Legislature adopted a series of resolutions of sympathy and in
condemnation of Austria and Russia. The opening resolution was in
these words: "Resolved, That every nation has the right to adopt such
form of government as may seem to it best calculated to advance those
ends for which all governments are in theory established." Can this
resolution command an endorsement at the beginning of the twentieth
century?
The States of Maine, Rhode Island, and Vermont adopted resolutions of
sympathy with Hungary and of arraignment of Austria and Russia.
[* This chapter was published substantially as it appears here in the
_New England Magazine._ Copyright, 1903, by Warren F. Kellogg.]
XIX
THE COALITION AND THE STATE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION OF 1853
The controversy over slavery, which wrought a division in the Whig and
Democratic parties as early as the year 1848, led to a reorganization
of parties in 1849, under the names of Whig, Democratic, and Free-soil
parties, respectively. Of these the Whig Party was the largest, but
from 1849 to 1853 it was not able to command a majority vote in the
State, and at that time a majority vote was required in all elections.
There was a substantial agreement between the Democratic and Free-soil
parties upon the leading questions of State politics. Of these
questions a secret ballot law and the division of counties for the
election of senators, and the division of cities for the election of
representatives, were the chief. Under the law then existing the
county of Middlesex, for example, elected six senators, and each year
all were of the same party. Boston was a Whig city, and each year it
chose forty-six members of the House on one ballot, and always of the
Whig Party. What is now the system of elections was demanded by the
Democratic and Free-soil parties. The change was resisted by the
Whig Party. In 1849 I was nominated by the Democratic Party for the
office of Governor, and a resolution was adopted denouncing the
system of slavery. In that year coalitions were formed in counties and
in cities and towns between Democrats and Free-soilers, which
demonstrated the possibility of taking the State out of the hands of
the Whig Party, if the coalitions could be made universal. This was
accomplished in 1850, and in 1851 I became Governor by the vote of the
Legislature, and Mr. Sumner was elected to the United States Senate.
It was the necessity of the situation that the two offices should be
filled, and the necessity was not less mandatory that one of the
places should be filled by a Democrat, and the other by a member of the
Free-soil Party. There were expectations and conjectures, no doubt,
but until the Legislature assembled in 1851 no one knew what the
arrangement would be. I am sure that I had no assurance that either
place would be assigned to me. The leaders of the Free-soil Party were
resolute in demanding the place in the Senate, so that their views on
the subject of slavery might be there set forth, and there were many
Democrats who preferred the control of the State.
The coalition had control of the State for the political years of 1851
and 1852. An act was passed which provided for a secret ballot, and by
another act the question of a Constitutional Convention was submitted
to the voters of the State. In March, 1853, an election was held for
the choice of delegates. A majority of the delegates elected were
members of the Democratic and Free-soil parties.