The news of the capture of Sumter had an instant and tremendous effect. The States which had seceded were thrown into a pleasurable ferment of triumph; the Northern States arose in fierce wrath; the Middle States, still balancing dubiously between the two parties, were rent with passionate discussion. For the moment the North seemed a unit; there had been Southern sympathizers before, and Southern sympathizers appeared in considerable numbers later, but for a little while just now they were very scarce. Douglas at once called upon the President, and the telegraph carried to his numerous followers throughout the land the news that he had pledged himself "to sustain the President in the exercise of all his constitutional functions to preserve the Union, and maintain the government, and defend the Federal capital." By this prompt and generous action he warded off the peril of a divided North. Douglas is not in quite such good repute with posterity as he deserves to be; his attitude towards slavery was bad, but his attitude towards the country was that of a zealous patriot. His veins were full of fighting blood, and he was really much more ready to go to war for the Union than were great numbers of Republicans whose names
survive in the strong odor of patriotism. During the presidential campaign he had been speaking out with defiant courage regardless of personal considerations, and in this present juncture he did not hesitate an instant to bring to his successful rival an aid which at the time and under the circumstances was invaluable.
In every town and village there were now mass meetings, ardent speeches, patriotic resolutions, a confusing stir and tumult of words that would become deeds as fast as definite plans could furnish opportunity. The difficulty lay in utilizing this abundant, this exuberant zeal. Historians say rhetorically that the North sprang to arms; and it really would have done so if there had been any arms to spring to; but muskets were scarce, and that there were any at all was chiefly due to the fact that antiquated and unserviceable weapons had been allowed to accumulate undestroyed. Moreover, no one knew even the manual of arms; and there were no uniforms, or accoutrements, or camp equipment of any sort. There was, however, the will which makes the way. Simultaneously with the story of Sumter came also the President's proclamation of April 15. He called for seventy-five thousand volunteers to serve for three months,—an insignificant body of men, as it now seems, and a period of time not sufficient to change them from civilians into soldiers. Yet for the work immediately visible the demand seemed adequate. Moreover, as the law stood, a much
longer term could not have been named,[[133]] and an apparently disproportionate requisition in point of numbers might have been of injurious effect; for nearly every one was cheerfully saying that the war would be no such very great affair after all. In his own mind the President may or may not have forecast the future more accurately than most others were doing; but his idea plainly was to ask no more than was necessary for the visible occasion. He stated that the troops would be used to "repossess the forts, places, and property which had been seized from the Union," and that great care would be taken not to disturb peaceful citizens. Amid all the prophesying and theorizing, and the fanciful comparisons of the respective fighting qualities of the Northern and Southern populations, a sensible remark is attributed to Lincoln: "We must not forget that the people of the seceded States, like those of the loyal States, are American citizens with essentially the same characteristics and powers. Exceptional advantages on one side are counterbalanced by exceptional advantages on the other. We must make up our minds that man for man the soldier from the South will be a match for the soldier from the North, and vice versa." This was good common sense, seasonably offsetting the prevalent but foolish
notion that the Southerners were naturally a better fighting race than the Northerners. Facts ultimately sustained Lincoln's just estimate of equality; for though the North employed far greater numbers than did the South, it was because the North had the burdens of attack and conquest upon exterior lines of great extent, because it had to detail large bodies of troops for mere garrison and quasi-police duty, and because during the latter part of the war it took miserable throngs of bounty-bought foreigners into its ranks. Man for man, as Lincoln said at the outset, the war proved that Northern Americans and Southern Americans were closely matched.[[134]]
By the same instrument the President summoned Congress to assemble in extra session on July 4. It seemed a distant date; and many thought that the Executive Department ought not to endeavor to handle alone all the possible novel developments of so long a period. But Mr. Lincoln had his purposes. By July 4 he and circumstances, together, would have wrought out definite conditions, which certainly did not exist at present; perhaps also, like most men who find themselves face to face with difficult practical affairs, he dreaded the
conclaves of the law-makers; but especially he wished to give Kentucky a chance to hold a special election for choosing members of this Congress, because the moral and political value of Kentucky could hardly be overestimated, and the most tactful manoeuvring was necessary to control her.
The Confederate cabinet was said to have greeted Mr. Lincoln's proclamation with "bursts of laughter." The governors of Kentucky, North Carolina, Arkansas, Tennessee, and Missouri telegraphed that no troops would be furnished by their respective States, using language clearly designed to be offensive and menacing. The Northern States, however, responded promptly and enthusiastically. Men thronged to enlist. Hundreds of thousands offered themselves where only 75,000 could be accepted. Of the human raw material there was excess; but discipline and equipment could not be created by any measure of mere willingness. Yet there was great need of dispatch. Both geographically and politically Washington lay as an advanced outpost in immediate peril. General Scott had been collecting the few companies within reach; but all, he said on April 8, "may be too late for this place." By April 15, however, he believed himself able to hold the city till reinforcements should arrive. The total nominal strength of the United States army, officers and men, was only 17,113, of whom not two thirds could be counted upon the Union side, and even these were scattered over a vast
expanse of country, playing police for Indians, and garrisoning distant posts. Rumors of Southern schemes to attack Washington caused widespread alarm; the government had no more definite information than the people, and all alike feared that there was to be a race for the capital, and that the South, being near and prepared, would get there first. As matter of fact, the Southern leaders had laid no military plan for this enterprise, and the danger was exaggerated. The Northerners, however, did not know this, and made desperate haste.
The first men to arrive came from Philadelphia, 460 troops, as they were called, though they came "almost entirely without arms." In Massachusetts, Governor Andrew, an anti-slavery leader, enthusiastic, energetic, and of great executive ability, had been for many months preparing the militia for precisely this crisis, weeding out the holiday soldiers and thoroughly equipping his regiments for service in the field. For this he had been merrily ridiculed by the aristocracy of Boston during the winter; but inexorable facts now declared for him and against the local aristocrats. On April 15 he received the call from Washington, and immediately sent forth his own summons through the State. All day on the 16th, amid a fierce northeasterly storm, the troops poured into Boston, and by six o'clock on that day three full regiments were ready to start.[[135]] Three days before