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Union will eat the fruits of his orchards; that his home will disappear in the devastating flames; that his slaves will be freemen, citizens of the Republic; that his own weak and trembling hands will twist a rope for his own neck; that the time will come when his body will be swaying lifeless in the air-that he will commit suicide through mortification over the failure of his hopes and expectations.

From the sand-hills on Morris Island, from the floating battery, from Moultrie, came flashes in quick succession. White powder clouds floated in the morning air, and the deep thunder rolled across the hitherto peaceful waters of the bay. Six o'clock. As yet there is no answering from. Sumter. Major Anderson and his men are eating their breakfast of fried salt pork. Seven o'clock. At last the cannon of Sumter open their lips. Their waiting is symbolic of the patience, endurance, and long-suffering of a great people. Through the day the bombardment goes on, the forts and batteries raining a concentrated fire upon the beleaguered garrison. Major Anderson's heart is momentarily gladdened by the appearance of the fleet which has been sent to his relief, but the batteries on Morris Island command the channel, and the vessels cannot approach the fort. At sunset the fort ceases its thunder, but through the night the Confederate batteries, at regular intervals, send their shells across the water.

Morning dawns, and once more the batteries are in lively action. Again the fort replies, but more slowly than before, for no more cloth can be had for cartridges. The soldiers tear up their blankets, and when those are gone, strip off their shirts and hand them over to the gunners.

From the roofs and steeples of Charleston, from the balconies along the promenade, the people look exultingly upon the scene. The Confederate soldiers in Moultrie send red hot cannon-balls crashing into the wooden barracks, setting them on fire. In vain the efforts of the Union soldiers to extinguish the flames, and fearing that the heat will explode one of the magazines, they throw most of the powder into the sea. The flagstaff is shot away, but Peter Hart, who was once a sergeant under Major Anderson, but who is now working at his trade as a carpenter for the Government, and Mr. Davy, run up the stone steps to the parapet, where shells are exploding and solid shot ploughing across the masonry, and fix the flag once more in its place.

Major Anderson has so little powder that he can only fire once in ten minutes. He has eaten his last meal; there is not a biscuit left, no flour, nor rice, nothing but salt pork, but he has no thought of surrendering the fort; he will stay till the last moment. He will be compelled to evacuate on Monday morning, when he can no longer give his starving soldiers. food.

A boat glides over the water from Morris Island, bearing General Wigfall, of Texas, who climbs into one of the embrasures and informs Major Anderson that he has come from General Beauregard. He is a self-appointed messenger, unauthorized, but through his action the cannonade ceases. is finally agreed that the fort shall be surrendered, that Major Anderson

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and all his men shall have the privilege of saluting the flag, taking it with them, and that they shall be placed on board the Government vessels outside the harbor.

Never before has Charleston been so intoxicated with joy amounting to delirium as on that Saturday night, April 13, 1861. Crowds surge the streets, hurrahing and shouting. Honses are illuminated, bells ring. In the stately mansions ladies fill wineglasses, and the young men drink to the health of General Beauregard, Jefferson Davis, Governor Pickens, the honor of South Carolina, and to the ladies. Never before such a night of revel in Charleston.

"Thank God!" said Governor Pickens, standing on the balcony of the Charleston Hotel, addressing the multitude-" thank God! the day has come; the war is open, and we will conquer or perish. We have defeated their twenty millions, and we have humbled the proud flag of the Stars and Stripes that never before was lowered to any nation on earth; we have lowered it in humility before the Palmetto and Confederate flags, and have compelled them to raise the white flag and ask for honorable surrender. The Stars and Stripes have triumphed for seventy years, but on this 13th of April it has been humbled by the little State of South Carolina. And I pronounce here, before the civilized world, that your independence is baptized in blood; your independence is won upon a glorious battle-field, and you are free now and forever, in defiance of the world in arms."

Little did Governor Pickens think what changes four years would bring; that grass would be growing on those time-worn pavements; that the air would be voiceless to all sounds of business, every house desolate, every home rent by cannon-balls, or shattered by exploding shells; that all would be ruin and desolation. Governor Pickens had a great plantation. Slaves did his bidding. Ere four years they would be free men, soldiers in the army of the Republic, enjoying the rights of citizenship, and all the fond dreams which had come to him of a confederacy built on slavery would fade away before the mighty power of a free people, and the old flag would once more be floating over the shapeless ruins of Sumter.

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CHAPTER III.

THE UPRISING OF THE PEOPLE.

INCE the founding of the nation, men had never looked into one anoth

SINCE

er's faces as on Saturday evening, April 13, 1861. Never had there been such sinking of hearts and hopes as at the sunset hour of that day of gloom. People wept as they weep when looking down into the coffin of a departed friend. The flag that never before had been dishonored, the brightest banner that ever waved on earth, the emblem of the world's best hope-insulted! Bitter the thought. Never before such a Sunday in this Western Hemisphere or in the history of the human race-on which thirty millions of people pondered the all-absorbing question whether the Union and the Government of the people was to live or die. Monday morning--the answer is on their lips. It is to live. Abraham Lincoln. has written it with his own hand.

"I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, in virtue of the power in me vested by the Constitution and the laws, have thought fit to call forth, and hereby do call forth, the militia of the several States of the Union, to the aggregate number of seventy-five thousand, in order to suppress this combination against the laws, and to cause the laws to be duly executed."

The telegraph flashes it east to Bangor, westward to San Francisco, to every city and town. A great hour has come-the beginning of a new era in the history of our country. Men read it with quivering lips and moistened eyes. For months and years, while the slave-holders have been directing the affairs of Government, lower and still lower has burned the patriotic fire, but now it flames from the Atlantic to the Pacific shore. In every fibre of their being the people feel that the nation shall live. Their fortunes, their lives-all the strength that God has given them shall be devoted to the preservation of the Union.

A week ago the people of the Northern States were divided into political parties; now there is only one party. On Sunday afternoon, while the ink is still wet on the paper upon which President Lincoln has written his.

proclamation, Stephen A. Douglas walks with quickened steps to the White House. He has been Mr. Lincoln's political antagonist. They were candidates for Senator from Illinois. Through that senatorial contest they stood face to face, waging political warfare. Mr. Douglas won. They were candidates for the presidency, and Mr. Douglas lost; but now that. the Union is in peril, he forgets the past. He knows nothing but the duty of the hour. They clasp hands. "We must wage relentless war," are the words of Mr. Douglas. "Every man must be for the United States or against it; there can be no neutrals-only patriots and traitors."

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One State was ready to respond to the call of the President-Massachusetts, which had thirteen thousand citizen soldiers. Massachusetts had been foremost in the Revolutionary War. Her citizens had ever been ardent lovers of liberty. Most of the leading antislavery men were of that State. During the year 1860, the governor, Nathaniel P. Banks, looking into the future and apprehending the possible coming of war, had taken measures to bring the militia to a high degree of efficiency. There had been a mustering of all the troops of the State on the historic field of Concord. His successor, John A. Andrew, also looked into the future and saw the necessity of having the troops ready to respond at any moment to any call which might be made upon them. Benjamin F. Butler, citizen of Lowell, who had earnestly supported Breckinridge for the presidency, had visited Washington in December to attend a meeting of his political party. To his astonishment, in conversation with a gentleman from Mississippi, he learned that the South intended to secede from the Union. "You men of the North will not fight," said the Mississippian. "Yes, they will fight," responded Butler. "Who will fight?" "I will." "Oh! there will be plenty of men in the South to take care of such as you." "When we march to the defence of the Union we will hang on the trees all the men left behind who undertake to break up the Union," responded Butler. Returning to Boston, he informed Governor Andrew of the intentions of the secessionists.

There was still another citizen of Massachusetts who fully comprehended the designs of the secessionists--Henry Wilson, Senator, like Abraham Lincoln, a man of the people, who was very poor in early life, but who, by patriotic devotion, hard study, and perseverance, had won the confidence of the people. He had been one of the foremost to resist the aggressions of slavery, was bold and energetic, and who, whenever he wished to know just what to do, made the trip from Washington to Massachusetts to learn the opinions of the people. He was an adroit politician, and took measures to find out all he could about the plans of the secessionists, and

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