e of the Northern States
had set their faces resolutely against secession and, led by Lincoln,
had crossed the Rubicon and taken up the gage of battle, which had been
thrown down by the South.

There was, then, no alternative but to fight. All other schemes were
illusive. The supreme crisis of the Nation had come, and there was no
other way than for the loyalty of the country to assert itself. The
courage of the people had to be put to the proof, to see whether they
were worthy of the heritage of freedom that had been earned by the blood
of the fathers. For fifty years there had been no war in this country,
except the affair with Mexico, so far away that distance lent
enchantment to the view. The Northern people had not been bred to arms.
The martial spirit was well-nigh extinct. Men knew little of military
exercises, except such ideas as had been derived from the old militia
system, that in many states was treated by the people rather with
derision than respect, and in most of them was, in the impending
emergency, a rather poor reliance for the national defense. Southerners,
trained in the use of firearms and to the duello, did not attempt to
conceal their contempt for their Northern brethren, and feigned to
believe that north of Mason and Dixon's line lived a race of cowards.

It did not take long to demonstrate that the descendants of the Green
Mountain Boys and of the western pioneers were foes worthy of the mettle
of the men who came from the states of Sumter and Marion, and "Light
Horse Harry Lee." The blood of their heroic ancestry ran in their
veins, and they were ready and willing to do or die when once convinced
that their country was in deadly peril. The people, indeed, were ready
long before their leaders were. Some of the ablest men the North had
produced were awed by their fear of the South--not physical fear, for
Webster and Douglas and Cass were incapable of such a thing--but fear
that the weight of Southern political influence might be thrown against
them. Many of the party leaders of the North had come to be known as
"dough-faces," a term of reproach, referring to the supposed ease with
which they might be kneaded into any form required for Southern use.
They might have been styled very appropriately "wax-nosed politicians,"
after the English custom, from the way they were nosed around by
arrogant champions of the cause of slavery.

Conciliation was tried, but every effort in that direction failed. A