If, in addition to the words in which she had assented to the Constitution, further justification were needed for the belief of Virginia in the right of secession, it was assuredly to be found in the apparent want of unanimity on so grave a question even in the Republican party, and in the acquiescent attitude of the Federal Government.

The people of Virginia, however, saw in the election of a Republican President no immediate danger of the Constitution being “perverted to their injury and oppression.”  The North, generally speaking, regarded the action of the secessionists with that strange and good-humoured tolerance with which the American citizen too often regards internal politics.  The common sense of the nation asserted itself in all its strength.  A Union which could only be maintained by force was a strange and obnoxious idea to the majority.  Amid the storm of abuse and insult in which the two extreme parties indulged, the abolitionists on the one side, the politicians on the other, Lincoln,

“The still strong man in a blatant land,”

stood calm and steadfast, promising justice to the South, and eager for reconciliation.  And Lincoln represented the real temper of the Northern people.

So, in the earlier months of 1861, there was no sign whatever that the Old Dominion might be compelled to use the alternative her original representatives had reserved.  The question of slavery was no longer to the fore.  While reprobating the action of the Confederates, the President, in his inaugural address (March 4, 1861), had declared that the Government had no right to interfere with the domestic institutions of the individual States; and throughout Virginia the feeling was strong in favour of the Union.  Earnest endeavours were made to effect a compromise, under which the seceded communities might renew the Federal compact.  The Legislature called a Convention of the People to deliberate on the part that the State should play, and the other States were invited to join in a Peace Conference at Washington.

It need hardly be said that during the period of negotiation excitement rose to the highest pitch.  The political situation was the sole theme of discussion.  In Lexington as elsewhere the one absorbing topic ousted all others, and in Lexington as elsewhere there was much difference of opinion.  But the general sentiment was strongly Unionist, and in the election of members of the Convention an overwhelming majority had pronounced against secession.  Between the two parties, however, there were sharp conflicts.  A flagstaff flying the national ensign had been erected in Main Street, Lexington.  The cadets fired on the flag, and substituting the State colours placed a guard over them.  Next morning a report reached the Institute that the local company of volunteers had driven off the guard, and were about to restore the Stars and Stripes.  It was a holiday, and there were no officers present.  The drums beat to arms.  The boys rushed down to their parade-ground, buckling on their belts, and carrying their rifles.  Ammunition was distributed, and the whole battalion, under the cadet officers, marched out of the Institute gates, determined to lower the emblem of Northern tyranny and drive away the volunteers.  A collision would certainly have ensued had not the attacking column been met by the Commandant.