hours, this terrific bombardment continued all day and all night, with but occasional lulls, from the early dawn of Friday morning till near the close of Saturday afternoon. The garrison in Sumter soon became so exhausted, that they could make but a feeble response. An eye-witness thus describes the scene within the fort:

"The fire surrounded us on all sides. Fearful that the walls might crack, and the shells pierce and prostrate them, we commenced taking the powder out of the magazine before the fire had fully enveloped it. We took 96 barrels of powder out, and threw them into the sea, leaving 200 barrels in it. Owing to a lack of cartridges, we kept five men inside the magazine, sewing, as we wanted them, thus using up our shirts, sheets, blankets, and all the available material in the fort. When we were finally obliged to close the magazine, and our material for cartridges was exhausted, we were left destitute of any means to continue the contest. We had eaten our last biscuit thirty-six hours before. We came very near being stifled with the dense, livid smoke from the burning buildings. Many of the men lay prostrate on the ground, with wet handkerchiefs over their mouths and eyes, gasping for breath. It was a moment of imminent peril. If an eddy of wind had not ensued, we all, probably, should have been suffocated. The crashing of the shot, the bursting of the shells, the falling of walls, and the roar of the flames made a pandemonium of the fort. We nevertheless kept up a steady fire."

Such was the state of affairs, when, near the close of the day, a small boat suddenly made its appearance at one of the embrasures, with a white flag, and Major Wigfall, formerly a United States Senator from Texas, and who had been one of the most fierce and conspicuous of the Secessionists, was permitted to crawl through the embrasure. The fort was on fire, the garrison utterly exhausted, and yet the tattered banner of Stars and Stripes floated proudly and defiantly over the ruins. After some conference, and the arrival of another deputation, it was agreed that the garrison should surrender the fort, taking with them, as they retired at their leisure and in their own way, all their individual and company property, their side arms, and the war-scathed flag, which they were to salute with a hundred guns, before they hauled it down.

The battle now ceased. The fire was ere long extinguished, having destroyed nearly everything combustible, and the wearied men had a night of such rest as could be found in the midst of the ruins which surrounded them. About half past 9 o'clock on Sunday morning, the evacuation commenced. The booming of cannon echoed over the bay, as the heroic and indomitable band saluted the Flag sinking from its staff, and then, as with the proud step of victors, the band playing "Yankee Doodle" and "Hail Columbia," they marched out of the main gate, with the Stars and the Stripes waving over them, and entered the transport Isabel, which conveyed them to the United States Ship Baltic, in the offing, by which they were carried in triumph to New York.

Fort Sumter was the Bunker Hill of this Civil War. In both cases, a proud aristocracy were determined to subject this country to its sway. In both cases, the defeat was a glorious victory. This little band of heroes

withstood the attack of an army, provided with the heaviest batteries which Europe and America could afford. For thirty-six hours they continued the unequal conflict. And then, when they had not another cartridge to fire, and not another biscuit to divide, they evacuated the ruins, the Stars and Stripes still waving over them, and they stepping proudly to the air of "Hail Columbia." The nation regarded it as a victory, and welcomed them as heroes. And the people of the United States will never cease to regard each member of the intrepid garrison of Fort Sumter with admiration and homage.

From the statistical report, given in the Charleston Mercury of May 3, it appears that the Rebels threw into and upon the fort, from fourteen batteries, 2361 solid shot, and 980 shells. Among the incidents of the battle related by an eye-witness, one is that a ten-inch shell entered the fort just above the magazine, cut its way through a block of granite, a foot thick, as if it had been cheese, and then exploded, casting a fragment of the shell, weighing twenty pounds, against the massive iron door of the magazine with such force, that the door was so bent that it could not be closed. Soon after this a red-hot shot passed quite through the outer wall of the magazine, and penetrated the inner wall to the depth of four inches, when it fell to the floor. All this time grains of powder, spilled by the men, were lying loosely about, so that it is a wonder, almost approaching to a miracle, that the magazine was not fired, and the fort and all its defenders blown into the air.

It is a marvelous fact, but one now apparently well authenticated, that during this long and terrific bombardment no one was killed on either side. After the battle was over, by the accidental explosion of a gun in saluting the national flag, one of the Federal soldiers was killed and several wounded. But in the battle, no one was seriously hurt. The Rebels had been for months preparing for the conflict, and the balls from Sumter which struck their batteries, cased, at a sharp angle, with railroad iron, glanced off, in the express language of an eye-witness, like marbles thrown by the hand of a child against the back of a tortoise. The men in Sumter were so few in number, and in casemates behind walls sixty feet high, and from twelve to fifteen feet thick, that it is not so very incredible that they should have escaped unharmed. And yet when we reflect that fifty tons weight of iron was thrown upon them with force which crumbled down the most massive masonry, it does indeed seem surprising that "nobody was hurt.'

Three times the fort was on fire, and twice the flames were extinguished, by the whole garrison ceasing to fire, and passing along water. To do this it was necessary for the men to go outside the walls, and hand the buckets in through the port-holes, all the time exposed to the incessant fire from the batteries. The third time the flames burst out, all their efforts to extinguish them were baffled, and they burned until almost everything combustible was consumed. The scene in Charleston, during this bombardment, must have been such as can not easily be imagined. From the steeples, the house-tops, and Battery, the whole bay was spread out before the eye and never before, perhaps, was there so perfect a panorama of

battle.

One of the rebels, who was in Charleston at the time, thus describes the scene:

"At the gray of the morning on Friday, the roar of cannon broke upon the ear. The expected sound was answered by thousands. The houses were in a few minutes emptied of their excited occupants, and the living stream poured through all the streets leading to the wharves and battery. On reaching our beautiful promenade, we found it lined with ranks of eager spectators, and all the wharves, commanding a view of the battle, were crowded thickly with human forms. On no gala occasion have we ever seen so large a number of ladies on our Battery as graced the breezy walk on this eventful morning. There they stood, with palpitating hearts and pallid faces, watching the white smoke as it rose in wreaths, upon the soft twilight air, and breathing out fervent prayers for their gallant kinsfolk at the guns."

The avowed object of the rebels, in their attack upon Sumter, was to cross the Rubicon in the actual inauguration of civil war, and thus to "fire the heart of the South." It was supposed that the South, being thus committed, would be compelled, by pride, to continue the conflict, for southern pride would scorn to entertain the thought of apology and submission. This outrage upon our country's flag, this inauguration of civil war, which was to cost more than a hundred thousand lives, to impoverish countless families, and to imperil our very national existence, was received throughout the rebellious cities, with all the demonstrations of pride and joy. Those who still loved their country did not dare to utter a remonstrating word, for an iron tyranny crushed them.

But the uprising in the North was such as the world never witnessed before. The slaveholders at the South had so long been threatening blood and ruin, that the North had quite ceased to regard their menaces. There was hardly a man to be found in all the North, who had any idea that the Southern rebels would venture to commence civil war. The bombardment of Sumter created universal amazement and indignation. As the news of the insult to the national flag, of the battle, and of the capture of the fort by the rebels, was flashed along the wires, excitement, perhaps unparalleled in the history of the world, pervaded every city and hamlet, and almost every heart. All party distinctions seemed to be forgotten. There were henceforth but two parties in the land,—the rebels with their sympathizers, and the friends of the Union.

On the next day, Monday, April 15, the President issued a call for three months' service of 75,000 volunteers, and summoned an extra session of Congress to meet on the 4th of July. The response of the loyal States to this call for troops was prompt and cordial in the highest possible degree. Never perhaps were a people found less prepared for war, than were the people of the Northern States. Accustomed only to peace, and not anticipating any foe, many of the States had not even the form of a military organization. All the energies of the people were consecrated to the arts of industry, not to those of destruction. We had neither soldiers nor officers. The men who had received military education at West Point, weary of having absolutely nothing to do, but to wear away the irksome hours, in