It was, he said, the first war of its kind in history.  It marked an epoch in the growth of national character since the world began.  As an American, he believed that no finger of mediaevalism should so much as touch this hemisphere.  The Cubans had earned their freedom long since, and the cries of starving women and children for the bread which fathers and brothers asked but the right to earn must cease.  To put out of mind the Americans blown to death at Havana—­if such a thing were possible—­he yet believed with all his heart in the war.  He did not think there would be much of a fight—­the regular army could doubtless take good care of the Spaniard—­but if everybody acted on that presumption, there would be no answer to the call for volunteers.  He was proud to think that the Legion of his own State, that in itself stood for the reunion of the North and the South, had been the first to spring to arms.  And he was proud to think that not even they were the first Kentuckians to fight for Cuban liberty.  He was proud that, before the Civil War even, a Kentuckian of his own name and blood had led a band of one hundred and fifty brave men of his own State against Spanish tyranny in Cuba, and a Crittenden, with fifty of his followers, were captured and shot in platoons of six.

“A Kentuckian kneels only to woman and his God,” this Crittenden had said proudly when ordered to kneel blindfolded and with his face to the wall, “and always dies facing his enemy.”  And so those Kentuckians had died nearly half a century before, and he knew that the young Kentuckians before him would as bravely die, if need be, in the same cause now; and when they came face to face with the Spaniard they would remember the shattered battle-ship in the Havana harbour, and something more—­they would remember Crittenden.  And then the speaker closed with the words of a certain proud old Confederate soldier to his son: 

“No matter who was right and who was wrong in the Civil War, the matter is settled now by the sword.  The Constitution left the question open, but it is written there now in letters of blood.  We have given our word that they shall stand; and remember it is the word of gentlemen and binding on their sons.  There have been those in the North who have doubted that word; there have been those in the South who have given cause for doubt; and this may be true for a long time.  But if ever the time comes to test that word, do you be the first to prove it.  You will fight for your flag—­mine now as well as yours—­just as sincerely as I fought against it.”  And these words, said Crittenden in a trembling voice, the brave gentleman spoke again on his death-bed; and now, as he looked around on the fearless young faces about him, he had no need to fear that they were spoken in vain.

And so the time was come for the South to prove its loyalty—­not to itself nor to the North, but to the world.