The North and South recoiled from each other; the one in amazement at the audacity of this first blow against the Union, the other rushing blindly after a few leaders, who had left them little choice of action, and no power of deliberation. The first news of the attack took the Government at Washington almost by surprise. President Lincoln and his Cabinet had not allowed themselves to believe that a civil war could absolutely break out in the heart of a country so blessed, so wealthy, and so accustomed to peace. True, political strife had waged fearfully; sections had clamored against sections, factions North had battled with factions South; but in a country where free speech and a free press were a crowning glory, a war of words and ideas could hardly have been expected to culminate in one of the most terrible civil wars that will crimson the world’s record. The first boom of the cannon’s blackened lips—the first shot hurled against the stars and stripes, aroused the Government from its hopes of security. Scarcely had the telegraph wires ceased to tremble under the startling news, before the Cabinet assembled in President Lincoln’s council chamber, and when it broke up, a proclamation, calling for seventy-five thousand troops, had been decided upon, and Congress was to be convened on the Fourth of July. The startling news, this prompt action, and the defenceless state of Washington, filled the country with wild excitement. It was known that the South had been for months drilling troops; that large portions of Virginia and Maryland were ready for revolt, and many believed that bodies of men were organized and prepared for an attack on the capital. Had this been true, had a considerable number of men marched upon Washington any time within four days after the news from Fort Sumter reached it, nothing could have saved it from capture, and probably, destruction. With only a handful of troops, and exposed at every point, no effectual resistance could have been made. The news reached Washington on Sunday; the next day such troops as could be mustered, appeared on parade. Pickets were stationed outside the town; horses were galloped furiously from point to point, and the first faint indication of this most awful civil war dawned upon a people so used to peace, that its import could not be wholly realized. Smothered alarm prevailed in the city; a military guard was placed each night in the White House, and great anxiety was felt for the arrival of troops, which had been hastily summoned from the North.