rumble of baggage-wagons in the streets and a constant tramping of men. Soldiers were quartered in the Capitol, spreading their blankets in the corridors. General Scott, who had served his country faithfully in the war with England in 1812, and in Mexico, was popularly regarded as the Hercules of the time. He was a native of Virginia, but was true to the old flag. The newspapers in the South were calling him a traitor to Virginia. He was seventy-five years of age, and his powers were failing. He could walk only with difficulty, but day and night he gave his waning energies to his country in this its trying hour.

Could I have gone to Richmond, I should have seen equal activity in that city regiments of men in gray parading the streets or hurrying northward to Manassas or Harper's Ferry. Throughout the South the blood of the secessionists, those who believed that the States were superior to the Nation, was at fever-heat. Those who still loved the old flag were

awed into silence. Mr. Semmes, who later in the war commanded the Confederate ship Alabama, gives this picture of Mobile the week after the firing on Sumter: "I found Mobile, like the rest of the Confederacy,. in a great state of excitement. It was boiling over with enthusiasm; the young merchants had dropped their day-books and ledgers, and were forming and drilling companies by night and day, while the older ones were discussing the question of the Confederate Treasury, to see how it could be supported. The Battle House was thronged, and all went merry as a marriage bell.""

The cotton States had seceded under the hallucination that cotton was "king." Jefferson Davis had pictured the glory of the future South, and its power, based on slavery. The merchants of New Orleans had brought themselves to believe that its commercial greatness would be far superior to that of New York; but before the month of April had passed a great change came over the city. This is the picture by Mr. Semmes: "I arrived in New Orleans on Monday, the 22d of April. A great change was apparent. The levee was no longer a great mart of commerce, piled with cotton-bales and with supplies going back to the planter, and densely packed with steamers, and thronged with a busy multitude. The long lines of shipping had been greatly thinned, and a general air of desolation hung over the river front. It seemed as though a pestilence brooded over the doomed city, and that its inhabitants had fled before the fell destroyer. But this first simoom of the desert which had swept over the city, as a foretaste of what was to come, had not discouraged its patriotic inhabitants. The activity of commerce had ceased, but another activity had taken its place. War now occupied the thoughts of the multitude, and the sound of the drum and the tramp of armed men were heard in the streets. The balconies were crowded with lovely women in gay attire to witness the military processions, and the Confederate flag in miniature was pinned on every bosom."

Mr. Jones, of Richmond, who kept a record of events during the war, gives this picture of Richmond: "The ladies are postponing all engagements until their lovers have fought the Yankees. Their influence is great. Day after day they go in crowds to the Fair-ground, where the First South Carolina volunteers are encamped, showering upon them their smiles and all the delicacies the city affords. They wine and cake them—and they deserve it. They have just taken Fort Sumter, and have won historic distinction. They are worth from one hundred thousand to half a million dollars each, these rich young men, and are dressed in gray homespun.”

On the 6th of May Arkansas seceded from the Union, and was followed

by North Carolina on the 21st and Tennessee on the 8th of June. In all the mountain region of West Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee there were but few slaves. The people of that section were hard-working men and women, who loved the old flag, and who could not see that they would be any better off in the Confederacy under Jefferson Davis than in the Union under Abraham Lincoln. In Kentucky there were eleven hundred and sixty thousand people, and of these two hundred and fifty thousand were slaves. There were strong ties to bind that State to the Union. Through all the years the people had lived in peace with their neighbors across the Ohio River, which with its many windings formed their northern boundary for nearly eight hundred miles. Young men from Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois had found their true-hearted wives south of the river. Many of the citizens of those States had been born in Kentucky, but had settled for life where there were no slaves to degrade their labor. There were frequent visits to the old homes to see brothers and cousins.

More than this, the little log-cabin in which Abraham Lincoln was born was still standing, and the people of the State-those who did not have any slaves-remembering how he struggled with poverty and hardships, how he had triumphed over adversity, how he had chopped wood, split rails, pulled at the oar on a Mississippi flat-boat, were not sorry that he was President. He had been constitutionally elected. They believed in fair play. Why should he not be President? Why should Kentucky join the Confederacy? Why should the hard-working farmers who held with their own hands the plough join a government under which labor was regarded as degrading?

The people of Kentucky had not forgotten the teachings of their great statesman, Henry Clay; they had just erected a beautiful monument of marble to commemorate his virtues and greatness. His voice had ever been for the Union. Men advanced in years who had listened to his eloquent words rehearsed them to their sons. Old soldiers who had fought for their country under General Harrison and General Scott in Canada, and who had stood with Jackson behind the breastwork of cotton-bales and hogsheads of sugar at New Orleans, who were receiving their pensions from Government, could not bear to think that the old flag had been insulted. They took pride in the thought that it had been defended at Sumter by a son of Kentucky, Major Anderson. The Rev. Doctor Breckinridge, father of Senator Breckinridge, who had been Vice-president under Buchanan, loved the Union. He wielded great influence among the Presbyterians of the State. Kentucky did not raise cotton. Very few of those who owned slaves had any thought of building up an em