The city was thronged with people.  Bands were playing everywhere.  The Wide-awakes, a Republican organization, were out in force marching as soldiers, dressed in glazed caps and capes, carrying torches.  Mottoes and transparencies were borne aloft by hundreds.  “Free soil for free men.”  “No more slave territories.”  “We do care whether slavery is voted up or down.”  “Abraham Lincoln cares”—­these were the banners.  And everywhere the banner “Protection to American Industries.”  Men carried rails.  The crowds cheered and roared.  And Baron Renfrew looked on, surrounded by his entourage and a few of the elite of Chicago.  We stared up into his face.  Did he smile, approve?  Was he greatly interested?  If America should divide it would be better for England.  We saw him turn and smile as he evidently spoke to one of his party.

Then a parade of Douglas men passed.  They too carried banners.  “Little Giant.”  “Ever Readies.”  “Cuba Must Be Ours.”  “We want none but white men at the helm.”  “We want a statesman, not a railsplitter for President.”  “Free Trade”—­these were the Douglas mottoes.  We turned at last and made our way through the crowd.  Hawkers were selling railsplitter pins, Honest Abe pins.  The streets were a medley of noise, confusion; the sidewalks were blocked.  Drunken men, eager men pushed their way through.  Bands played.  Far off a stump speaker’s voice could be heard.  All this waste of sand and scrub oak which I had seen in 1833 was now covered with buildings big and little.  It was the battleground between two sons of Illinois.

October came.  I grew more and more apprehensive for Douglas’ fate.  I had had a letter from Isabel gently foreshadowing her marriage.  My boy was not advancing in his work at school.  Inexorable loneliness was descending upon me.

Douglas came to Chicago on a speaking trip.  He had been in Indianapolis where his voice was so hoarse that he could scarcely be heard.  Chicago gave him a magnificent ovation.  They saw the man now in all his clearness of mind and strength of heart.  He repudiated the schemes of fusion.

“Every disunionist,” he said, “is a Breckenridge man.  As Democrats, we can never fuse either with northern Abolitionists or southern bolters and secessionists.  Yes, my friends, I say to you what I said in North Carolina and in the same words:  I would hang every man higher than Haman who would attempt to resist by force the execution of any provision of the Constitution which our fathers made and bequeathed to us.  You cannot sever this Union unless you cut the heartstrings that bind father to son, daughter to mother, and brother to sister in all our new states and territories.  I love my children, but I do not desire to see them survive this Union.”