Taken as a whole, the city at this time was tossed and torn with doubt and fear. That there was a mighty struggle on the part of the disloyal, in some way to get possession of the Arsenal, we all knew. How many of them there were, and what were their resources, we could not with any certainty ascertain. Our imaginations were often active. When we retired at night we thought it at least possible that, by some strategic stroke, we might wake up in the morning and find our city turned over into the hands of the secessionists. The very indefiniteness of the force which threatened us made our situation peculiarly weird, and filled us at times with apprehension. This hostile force was as vague and indeterminate as the shadowy power that passed before Eliphaz, concerning which he said (Job 4: 12): “Now a thing was secretly brought to me, and mine ear received a whisper thereof. In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up: It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof.” Not that we feared for our personal safety. But we were often anxious lest the city, by some secret move, should be swept into the maelstrom of secession. True men could not help being anxious. Ugly rumors filled the air. The Post-office, the Custom-house, the Subtreasury, the Arsenal were all about to be seized. At last, on April 12th, the whole nation, North and South, burst into flame. Beauregard was bombarding Fort Sumter. Hostilities had not been formally declared. Without any preannouncement, the dread conflagration of war began to sweep over the land. But after all, this was but fanning into fiercer flame the fire that was already burning. For several months the seceding States had been committing acts of war in seizing the property of the United States. From the strong desire of averting armed conflict, such acts had been overlooked by the Federal authorities. The nation had been hoping for a peaceful solution of its difficulties. But now the belching cannon at Charleston, the very nest of secession, had swept away the last hope of peace. Every ear in St. Louis was attent. The shameful end came all too soon. The Old Flag, around which clustered so many glories, was lowered before a disunion army. On the 14th of April those brave troops that had so gallantly defended the fort marched out with the honors of war. There was now no longer any hesitation at the White House. The President’s call for seventy-five thousand men to put down the rebellion rang out trumpet-tongued all over the Republic. The lines that had separated political parties faded away. Persons of all shades of political opinion rallied as one man to save the Union.