honor, protect it from
treason, and send it down to our children, with all the blessings of
civilization, liberty, and religion. Terrible in battle, may it be
beneficent in peace. Happily, no bird or beast of prey has been
inscribed upon it. The stars that redeem the night from darkness,
and the beams of red light that beautify the morning, have been
united upon its folds. As long as the sun endures, or the stars,
may it wave over a nation neither enslaved nor enslaving! Once, and
but once, has treason dishonored it. In that insane hour when the
guiltiest and bloodiest rebellion of all time hurled their fires
upon this fort, you, sir [turning to General Anderson], and a small,
heroic band, stood within these now crumbled walls, and did gallant
and just battle for the honor and defense of the nation's banner.
In that cope of fire, that glorious flag still peacefully waved to
the breeze above your head unconscious of harm as the stars and
skies above it. Once it was shot down. A gallant hand, in whose
care this day it has been, plucked it from the ground, and reared it
again--"cast down, but not destroyed." After a vain resistance,
with trembling hand and sad heart, you withdrew it from its height,
closed its wings, and bore it far away, sternly to sleep amid the
tumults of rebellion, and the thunder of battle. The first act of
war had begun. The long night of four years had set in. While the
giddy traitors whirled in a maze of exhilaration, dim horrors were
already advancing, that were ere long to fill the land with blood.
To-day you are returned again. We devoutly join with you in
thanksgiving to Almighty God that he has spared your honored life,
and vouchsafed to you the glory of this day. The heavens over you
are the same, the same shores are here, morning comes, and evening,
as they did. All else, how changed! What grim batteries crowd the
burdened shores! What scenes have filled this air, and disturbed
these waters! These shattered heaps of shapeless stone are all that
is left of Fort Sumter. Desolation broods in yonder city--solemn
retribution hath avenged our dishonored banner! You have come back
with honor, who departed hence four years ago, leaving the air
sultry with fanaticism. The surging crowds that rolled up their
frenzied shouts as the flag came down, are dead, or scattered, or
silent, and their habitations are desolate. Ruin sits in the cradle
of treason. Rebellion has perished. B