The Great Republic
By the Master Historians — the story of America, told by those who told it best

Fort Sumter Bombarded: Anderson and Wigfall

Volume III · Part 4 of 4 · circa 1861

This appalling conflagration seemed to inflame the zeal of the assailants. The entire circle of attack blazoned with fire, and the air was cut into hissing arches of smoke and balls. The rebel general in command had stated that two hours, probably, would suffice to reduce the fortress, but twenty-eight hours had not accomplished the work; and now, as the besiegers beheld another and more invincible power coming to their aid, they acknowledged the service rendered, by frenzied shouts and redoubled service at their guns. It must have been a moment to inspire the enthusiasm of seven thousand sons of the South, when flames and suffocation came to assist in reducing eighty half-starved and exhausted men.

About noon of Saturday the upper service magazine exploded, tearing away the tower and upper portions of the fort, and doing more havoc than a week's bombardment could have effected. One who was present wrote, "The crash of the beams, the roar of the flames, the rapid explosion of the shells, and the shower of fragments of the fort, with the blackness of the smoke, made the scene indescribably terrific and grand. This continued for several hours. Meanwhile, the main gates were burned down, the chassis of the barbette guns were burned away on the gorge, and the upper portions of the towers had been demolished by shells.

"There was not a portion of the fort where a breath of air could be got for hours, except through a wet cloth. The fire spread to the men's quarters, on the right hand and on the left, and endangered the powder which had been taken out of the magazines. The men went through the fire and covered the barrels with wet cloths, but the danger of the fort's blowing up became so imminent that they were obliged to heave the barrels out of the embrasures. While the powder was being thrown overboard, all the guns of Moultrie, of the iron floating battery, of the enfilade battery, and the Dahlgren battery, worked with increased vigor.

"All but four barrels were thus disposed of, and those remaining were wrapped in many thicknesses of wet woollen blankets. But three cartridges were left, and these were in the guns. About this time the flag-staff of Fort Sumter was shot down, some fifty feet from the truck, this being the ninth time that it had been struck by a shot. The men cried out, `The flag is down; it has been shot away!' In an instant, Lieutenant Hall rushed forward and brought the flag away. But the halliards were so inextricably tangled that it could not be righted: it was, therefore, nailed to the staff, and planted upon the ramparts, while batteries in every direction were playing upon them."

Shortly after this incident, Louis T. Wigfall, late United States Senator from Texas, came out to the fort with a white flag. He announced that he had been sent by General Beauregard to demand on what terms Anderson would surrender. The latter replied that he would evacuate on the terms offered in his note to Beauregard, and on no others. Another boat soon after appeared, with members of Beauregard's staff, and Anderson, to his mortification, was informed that Wigfall had come out utterly without authority. Beauregard, however, accepted the terms which Anderson had proposed to Wigfall, and the opening battle of the war ended, a contest in which not a man had been lost on either side. The poorly-prepared condition for service of Sumter's guns had saved the assailants from all peril.

During the bombardment a vast concourse of people gathered in Charleston, and lined the wharves and promenade, to witness the sublime contest. The surrounding country poured in its eager, excited masses to add to the throng. Men, women, and children stood there, hour after hour, with blanched faces and praying hearts; for few of that crowd but had some loved one in the works under fire. Messengers came hourly from the several positions, to assure the people of the safety of the men. The second day's conflict found the city densely filled with people, crowding in by railway and private conveyances from the more distant counties, until Charleston literally swarmed with humanity, which, in dispersing, after the evacuation, played the important part of agents to "fire the Southern heart" for the storm which their madness had evoked.

The evacuation took place Sunday morning [April 14, 1861], commencing at half-past nine. The steamer Isabel was detailed to receive the garrison, and to bear it to any point in the North which Anderson might indicate. The baggage was first transferred to the transport; then the troops marched out, bearing their arms; while a squad, specially detailed, fired fifty guns as a salute to their flag. At the last discharge, a premature explosion killed one man, David Hough, and wounded three,--the only loss and injury which the men suffered in the eventful drama. The troops then lowered their flag and marched out with their colors flying, while the band played "Yankee Doodle" and "Hail to the Chief." From the Isabel the garrison was conveyed to the transport Baltic, still anchored outside the bar. The Baltic sailed for New York Tuesday evening, April 16th.. Thus ended the drama of Sumter,--a drama which served to prelude the grander tragedy of the War for the Union.

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