Hardly had he summoned the people of Illinois to do battle, when again he touched that pathetic note that recurred again and again in his appeal at Springfield.  Was it the memory of the mother of his boys that moved him to say, “But we must remember certain restraints on our action even in time of war.  We are a Christian people, and the war must be prosecuted in a manner recognized by Christian nations.  We must not invade Constitutional rights.  The innocent must not suffer, nor women and children be the victims.”  Before him were some who felt toward the people of the South as Greek toward barbarian.  But Douglas foresaw that the horrors of war must invade and desolate the homes of those whom he still held dear.  There is no more lovable and admirable side of his personality than this tenderness for the helpless and innocent.  Had he but lived to temper justice with mercy, what a power for good might he not have been in the days of reconstruction!

The summons had gone forth.  Already doubts and misgivings had given way, and the North was now practically unanimous in its determination to stifle rebellion.  There was a common belief that secession was the work of a minority, skillfully led by designing politicians, and that the loyal majority would rally with the North to defend the flag.  Young men who responded jubilantly to the call to arms did not doubt, that the struggle would be brief.  Douglas shared the common belief in the conspiracy theory of secession, but he indulged no illusion as to the nature of the war, if war should come.  Months before the firing upon Fort Sumter, in a moment of depression, he had prophesied that if the cotton States should succeed in drawing the border States into their schemes of secession, the most fearful civil war the world had ever seen would follow, lasting for years.  “Virginia,” said he, pointing toward Arlington, “over yonder across the Potomac, will become a charnel-house....  Washington will become a city of hospitals, the churches will be used for the sick and wounded.  This house ‘Minnesota Block,’ will be devoted to that purpose before the end of the war."[998] He, at least, did not mistake the chivalry of the South.  Not for an instant did he doubt the capacity of the Southern people to suffer and endure, as well as to do battle.  And he knew—­Ah! how well—­the self-sacrifice and devotion of Southern women.

The days following the return of Douglas to Chicago were filled also with worries and anxieties of a private nature.  The financial panic of 1857 had been accompanied by a depression of land values, which caused Douglas grave concern for his holdings in Chicago, and no little immediate distress.  Unable and unwilling to sacrifice his investments, he had mortgaged nearly all of his property in Cook County, including the valuable “Grove Property” in South Chicago.  Though he was always lax in pecuniary matters, and, with his buoyant generous nature, little disposed to take anxious thought for the morrow, these heavy financial obligations began now to press upon him with grievous weight.  The prolonged strain of the previous twelve months had racked even his constitution.  He had made heavy drafts on his bodily health, with all too little regard for the inevitable compensation which Nature demands.  As in all other things, he had been prodigal with Nature’s choicest gift.