The Great North-Western Conspiracy in All Its Startling Details | Page 4

helpless, let him blush with shame to call himself a man, let him never
claim to be an American citizen, never claim protection of our
Country's flag, let him close his ears to the sound of rejoicing for final
and complete victory, let him only hold companionship with cowards
and with culprits, and hide himself from the light of day who will turn a
deaf ear to the soldiers' prayer. Copperheads who have withheld their
sympathy and their efforts for our country in its days of darkness and of
peril, should and will be known of men in all future time; their lives
will be blighted, their names will be a reproach and a by-word, their
children will blush for their parents, and the name of Benedict Arnold
will no longer be the synonym of treason and betrayal--his name will
be rescued from the infamy each passing year of the existence of our
country has heaped upon it, and the Copperheads of the present day
will receive the anathemas of all coming generations, till their very
names shall be a curse too horrid for mortals to apply, and thenceforth
be only echoed in the lowest depths of hell.
By Providential discovery of the existence of the Order of Sons of
Liberty in Chicago, and the utmost vigilance, prudence, perseverance,
patience, promptness and daring, the aims, designs and acts of this
Order, of the American Knights and kindred organizations have been
brought to light, its every evil purpose and plan laid before the

Government, and the pet institution of Jeff. Davis has been turned
inside out, so that "he who runs may read;" the curtain has been raised
and the light of noonday has been let in, discovering to the public the
horrid creation of traitors in our very midst--people who breathe the
very air we do, who enjoy the same blessings and privileges, aye, and
perhaps sit at the same tables. The friends and sympathizers of these
traitors have sought to cast obloquy and distrust upon the statements of
those who have successfully broken up the great conspiracy, and
perjury has sought to blacken their reputations, but in vain. Truth will
prevail.
The list of names of the members of the Sons of Liberty have been
obtained and preserved, and will be valuable for reference hereafter.
As the reader passes down South Clark street, at the corner of Monroe,
he will notice upon the right a large building of peculiar structure, and,
now bearing the name "Invincible Club Hall." It was here the temples
of the Sons of Liberty, or, as they were then called, the "American
Knights," held their secret sessions, going stealthily up the stairs singly
or in groups of two or three, to avoid observation, and when once
inside the hall they were guarded by an outside sentinel, whose duty it
was to apprise them of danger and to guard against its approach to the
"temple"; but let not the fault-finding Sons blame their Tyler now for
any neglect of duty; once under the ban of suspicion he has proved
himself as staunch a rebel and traitor as Jeff. Davis himself, and is
entitled to all the consideration of a "devilish good fellow." But within
a year, more or less, the "temple" of the Illini, as it was called, removed
from Clark street to the large building upon the corner of Randolph and
Dearborn streets, known as "McCormick's Block." Every Thursday
evening prior to the eighth of November 1864, the windows of the hall
in the fifth story gave evidence that the hall was occupied, but further
than this evidence was not for the observer, however curious he might
be, unless, perchance, he was a member of "the Order." Clambering up
the long nights of stairs that lead to the hall, on a Thursday evening, the
party in quest of discovery would be not a little surprised at the class of
men he would notice upon the march upward; he would involuntarily
button up his pockets and keep as far distant from his fellow travelers

as possible, for a more God-forsaken looking class of vagabonds never
before entered a respectable building, and it is a matter of some doubt
whether so many graceless scoundrels were ever before convened in
one building in Chicago, not excepting the Armory when the police
have been unusually active and vigilant. Occasionally a fine looking
man would brush hastily by you, as if afraid to be discovered and
recognised--not in the least conscience-stricken, perhaps, for his
purposes and intentions. Should the gas-light show to you the comely
features of the Grand Senior Obadiah Jackson, Jr. Esq., on his
pilgrimage upward, you would scarcely be willing to believe that he
was the presiding genius of the room in the upper regions, and bound to
dispense