Every hill that invests it is hallowed to
you by the blood of your brothers who died for your victory, and doubly
hallowed to us by the blood of those who died hopeless, but undaunted,
in defeat--sacred soil to all of us--rich with memories that make us
purer and stronger and better--silent but stanch witnesses in its red
desolation of the matchless valor of American hearts and the deathless
glory of American arms--speaking an eloquent witness in its white peace
and prosperity to the indissoluble union of American States and the
imperishable brotherhood of the American people.
Now, what answer has New England to this message? Will she permit the
prejudice of war to remain in the hearts of the conquerors, when it has
died in the hearts of the conquered? Will she transmit this prejudice to
the next generation, that in their hearts which never felt the generous
ardor of conflict it may perpetuate itself? Will she withhold, save in
strained courtesy, the hand which straight from his soldier's heart
Grant offered to Lee at Appomattox? Will she make the vision of a
restored and happy people, which gathered above the couch of your dying
captain, filling his heart with grace, touching his lips with praise,
and glorifying his path to the grave--will she make this vision, on
which the last sigh of his expiring soul breathed a benediction, a cheat
and delusion? If she does, the South, never abject in asking for
comradeship, must accept with dignity its refusal; but if she does not
refuse to accept in frankness and sincerity this message of good will
and friendship, then will the prophecy of Webster, delivered in this
very society forty years ago amid tremendous applause, be verified in
its fullest sense, when he said: "Standing hand to hand and clasping
hands, we should remain united as we have been for sixty years, citizens
of the same country, members of the same government, united, all united
now and united forever.
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