WIGFALL'S WHITE FLAG.

59

fire approached the men's quarters where the barrels of powder that had been taken from the magazine lay exposed. The soldiers rushed through the flames with wet blankets, and covered them over; but the heat soon became so intense, that it was feared they would take fire and blow up the fort, and they were rolled through the embrasures into the sea, till all but three were gone, which were piled over thickly with wet blankets. Only three cartridges were now left, and these were in the guns. At this crisis the flag-staff was shot away. The flag was brought in, after having been shot down, by Lieutenant Hall; but was afterwards (by order of Major Anderson) planted on the rampart by Lieutenants Snyder and Hart, who nailed it to the flag-staff, where it continued to wave defiantly. A few minutes

after this occurred, a man was seen at an embrasure, with a white flag tied to his sword. It was Wigfall, late senator from Texas, who had come from fort Moultrie, and now desired admittance. Entering through into the casemate, he exclaimed in an excited manner, that he came from General Beauregard, that he saw the flag of the fort was down, adding, "let us stop this firing." "No sir," replied Lieutenant Davis, "the flag is not down, step out this way and you will see it waving from the ramparts." General Wigfall then asked that some one should hold his white flag outside the walls, "No sir," replied the gallant lieutenant, "we don't raise a white flag, if you want your batteries to stop, you must stop them yourself." Wigfall then held the flag out of the embrasure. As soon as he did so, Lieutenant Davis ordered a corporal to relieve him, as it was not the act of the fort, but of Wigfall. But the cannon balls continuing to strike around the corporal, he exclaimed with an oath, "I won't hold that flag, they don't respect it." Wigfall replied, "They fired at me three or four times, and I should think you ought to stand it once." He then placed the flag

60

SURRENDER OF FORT SUMTER.

outside of the embrasure and sought Major Anderson. Wigfall introduced himself by saying, "I am General Wigfall, and come from General Beauregard, who wishes to stop this." Anderson, whose usually quiet blood had in the terrific bombardment of these two days got fairly roused, rose on his toes, and as he came down with a sudden jar on his heels, replied, "Well sir!" "Major Anderson," said the former, "You have defended your flag nobly, sir-you have done all that is possible for men to do, and General Beauregard wishes to stop the fight. On what terms will you evacuate this fort?"

“General Beauregard is already acquainted with my only terms," was the calm reply.

"Do I understand," replied Wigfall, "that you will evacuate upon the terms proposed the other day?"

"Yes, sir," said the Major, "and on those conditions only." "Very well," Wigfall replied, and retired.

A short time after, a deputation of four officers arrived, sent by General Beauregard, and asked for an interview with Major Anderson; when it turned out, that Wigfall had acted entirely on his own responsibility, and without even the knowledge of Beauregard. The latter seeing the fort on fire, they said, had sent them over to inquire if any assistance could be rendered. They were amazed when Anderson informed them that he had just agreed upon terms of capitulation with General Wigfall, acting under orders of General Beauregard. Seeing the state of things, Major Anderson remarked that it put him in a peculiar position, and the flag must be hoisted again. After some conversation, however, they requested him to put in writing what Wigfall had said to him, and they would lay it before General Beauregard. He did so, but before the statement reached the rebel general, he had sent the Adjutant-general, and members of his staff, to propose the same terms on which Major Anderson

EXULTATION OF CHARLESTONIANS.

61

had consented to go out, with the exception of being allowed to salute his flag. They asked him if he would not dispense with the salute. He replied "No," he would however leave the question open for conference. They returned with the reply, and shortly after an officer came over saying that the terms first proposed were accepted.

What motive had prompted General Wigfall to volunteer his services, and take upon himself the responsibility of negotiating for Beauregard, is not known. It is but charitable, however, to suppose that the feelings of a man had been aroused in him at sight of that burning fort, within which a mere handful of men had for thirty-four hours borne the concentrated fire of four powerful batteries, and which, though unable to return only an occasional shot, and wrapped in a fierce conflagration, still refused to yield. It was a sight to move the pity of any thing human.

Thus fell fort Sumter; and the opening act of the most fearful tragedy the world has ever seen, had closed. The people of Charleston seemed utterly oblivious of the true character and swift results of this first act of violence, and were wild with enthusiasm and joy. Beauregard was a hero—indeed all were heroes. They had succeeded in firing the train, and now danced in the flickering light it emitted, unconscious that the fitful blaze was on its way to a magazine, the explosion of which would shake the continent. The Roman Catholic bishop ordered a Te Deum to be chanted in honor of the victory, and the Episcopal bishop, though blind and feeble, declared that the resistance was obedience to God.

On Monday morning preparations for the evacuation commenced. But first, the only man killed during the terrible bombardment, a private by the name of Daniel Hough, who lost his life by the bursting of a cannon, was buried with military honors. When this was done, and the baggage all on board the transport, a portion of the little band who

62

UNION OF ALL PARTIES.

stood under arms within the battered fort, were toled off as gunners, to fire the one hundred guns as a salute to the flag. At the fiftieth discharge a premature explosion killed one man, and wounded three more-one seriously. When the last gun was fired, the handful of heroes marched out, the band playing Yankee Doodle and Hail to the Chief. Vast crowds were collected in the vicinity to witness this last ceremony, little dreaming what it foreboded. That night the troops remained on board the Isabel, and the next morning were transferred to the Baltic, and started for New York.

Though South Carolina had long before declared herself out of the Union, both postal and telegraphic communication was kept up with Charleston, and never did the electric wires of the country quiver with news so pregnant with the fate of a great nation, as those which kept registering the progress of the bombardment. And when at last the news came that the stars and stripes had been lowered to the insolent, rebellious state, the nation was struck dumb with indignation and amazement. The first effect was stunning, paralyzing; and the north seemed to hold its breath in suspense. But it was the slow settling back of the billow, as it gathers to break in thunder on the shore. The north had hitherto been divided. The democrats, and those opposed to the republican party had sympathized with the south in their indignation at the triumph of a faction, whose battle cry had been hostility to an institution that was inwoven into the very structure of its society. Every where threats had been heard that if the republican party endeavored by any unconstitutional act to carry out its hostility to slavery, there would be an uprising at the north. So bitter was this feeling, that many rejoiced at the serious difficulties and embarrassments their sectional victory had involved them in. Indeed, it was clear to the careful observer, that if the South managed discreetly, the party would have more

trouble at the north than at the south. What course would this powerful opposition take now, was a question fraught with life and death to the administration. But there was no time given for arguments and appeals and attempts to conciliate. Political animosities vanished-party lines disappeared and all opposition went down like barriers of mist before the rising patriotism of the people. Though the democrats believed the spirit of the compact originally made between the north and south, had been broken by the formation and success of the republican party, and that its very existence was contrary to the spirit of the constitution, and a violation of good faith-though they felt it meditated a great wrong on the weaker portion of the republic, they suddenly forgot it all. The flag, our boast and pride, the emblem of our nationality and record of our glory, had been assailed by traitorous hands, and trailed in the dust at their bidding. All minor differences disappeared before this gigantic wrong; and from the Atlantic to the broad prairies of the west, there went up one loud cry for vengeance. The President, who with his administration had seemed to be laboring under a strange incredulity, seeing state after state throw off its allegiance, and forts and arsenals one after another seized by the rebels, with a calm composure, as though all those high-handed acts were mere parts of a stage play, and meant nothing more than the talk about secession and a bloody revolt, that had characterized the political campaign of the autumn previous-was at last aroused by the thunder of cannon at fort Sumter. The President at length saw that this was not merely an "artificial excitement;" and the "sixty days" which the Secretary of State prophesied were to bring a more "cheerful state of things," had instead brought "bloody war."

The very next day after fort Sumter had surrendered, the President issued a proclamation, calling for seventy-five