Military Reminiscences of the Civil War, vol 1 (April 1861-November 1863) | Page 6

we meet again, Mr. Lincoln's proclamation and call for
seventy-five thousand militia for three months' service were out, and
the great mass of the people of the North, forgetting all party
distinctions, answered with an enthusiastic patriotism that swept
politicians off their feet. When we met again on Tuesday morning,
Judge Key, taking my arm and pacing the floor outside the railing in

the Senate chamber, broke out impetuously, "Mr. Cox, the people have
gone stark mad!" "I knew they would if a blow was struck against the
flag," said I, reminding him of some previous conversations we had had
on the subject. He, with most of the politicians of the day, partly by
sympathy with the overwhelming current of public opinion, and partly
by reaction of their own hearts against the false theories which had
encouraged the secessionists, determined to support the war measures
of the government, and to make no factious opposition to such state
legislation as might be necessary to sustain the federal administration.
The attitude of Mr. Key is only a type of many others, and makers one
of the most striking features of the time. On the 8th of January the
usual Democratic convention and celebration of the Battle of New
Orleans had taken place, and a series of resolutions had been passed,
which were drafted, as was understood, by Judge Thurman. In these,
professing to speak in the name of "two hundred thousand Democrats
of Ohio," the convention had very significantly intimated that this vast
organization of men would be found in the way of any attempt to put
down secession until the demands of the South in respect to slavery
were complied with. A few days afterward I was returning to Columbus
from my home in Trumbull County, and meeting upon the railway train
with David Tod, then an active Democratic politician, but afterward
one of our loyal "war governors," the conversation turned on the action
of the convention which had just adjourned. Mr. Tod and I were
personal friends and neighbors, and I freely expressed my surprise that
the convention should have committed itself to what must be
interpreted as a threat of insurrection in the North if the administration
should, in opposing secession by force, follow the example of Andrew
Jackson, in whose honor they had assembled. He rather vehemently
reasserted the substance of the resolution, saying that we Republicans
would find the two hundred thousand Ohio Democrats in front of us, if
we attempted to cross the Ohio River. My answer was, "We will give
up the contest if we cannot carry your two hundred thousand over the
heads of your leaders."
The result proved how hollow the party professions had been; or
perhaps I should say how superficial was the hold of such party

doctrines upon the mass of men in a great political organization. In the
excitement of political campaigns they had cheered the extravagant
language of party platforms with very little reflection, and the leaders
had imagined that the people were really and earnestly indoctrinated
into the political creed of Calhoun; but at the first shot from
Beauregard's guns in Charleston harbor their latent patriotism sprang
into vigorous life, and they crowded to the recruiting stations to enlist
for the defence of the national flag and the national Union. It was a
popular torrent which no leaders could resist; but many of these should
be credited with the same patriotic impulse, and it made them nobly
oblivious of party consistency. Stephen A. Douglas passed through
Columbus on his way to Washington a few days after the surrender of
Sumter, and in response to the calls of a spontaneous gathering of
people, spoke to them from his bedroom window in the American
House. There had been no thought for any of the common surroundings
of a public meeting. There were no torches, no music. A dark crowd of
men filled full the dim-lit street, and called for Douglas with an
earnestness of tone wholly different from the enthusiasm of common
political gatherings. He came half-dressed to his window, and without
any light near him, spoke solemnly to the people upon the terrible crisis
which had come upon the nation. Men of all parties were there: his own
followers to get some light as to their duty; the Breckinridge Democrats
ready, most of them, repentantly to follow a Northern leader, now that
their recent candidate was in the rebellion; [Footnote: Breckinridge did
not formally join the Confederacy till September, but his accord with
the secessionists was well known.] the Republicans eagerly anxious to
know whether so potent an influence was to be unreservedly on the side
of the country. I remember well the serious solicitude with which I
listened to his opening sentences as I leaned against the railing of the