Major Anderson made good use of the hour awarded to him, that one solemn hour which stood between a peaceful, happy country, so blessed that it had forgotten to be grateful, and the most terrible war that ever, without cause, deluged a free soil with the blood of its own sons. Were ever sixty minutes, since the creation of time, so portentous with fate?

But that little band of men had no time for such thoughts. No sooner had the deputation withdrawn than each officer and soldier was at his post. They had two flags at the fort, a large garrison flag, which Major Anderson raised when he took up his quarters at Sumter, and a smaller one, called the storm-flag; the former had a slight tip in it, and he ordered the storm-flag to be raised in its stead.

Sentinels were immediately removed from the parapets of Fort Sumter, the posterns closed, the flag drawn up, and an order sent to the troops not to leave the bomb-proofs, on any account, until summoned by the drum. At 4.30 A. M. one bombshell was thrown at Sumter, bursting immediately over the fort.

This was the first gun of the rebellion. How awfully its reverberations have thundered through the land! How little did the prompters of that attack upon the old flag dream of the horrors that were to follow!

After the pause of a few moments the firing became general on the part of the batteries of the secessionists, doing the greatest credit to the artillerists. Battery after battery joined in the murderous attack. The Major took it very calmly—divided his men into companies to relieve each other—had their scanty breakfast prepared, which they partook of in silence, while the iron hail was crashing against their walls—prepared additional cartridges by tearing up the flannel shirts of the men, their bed-clothes, etc.,—got out a supply of powder from the magazine—and after nearly four hours’ silence, the fort at last opened most vigorously on their assailants. Hot coffee was kept in the boiler in the cook room for the men to partake of whenever they pleased, and they worked the guns with a will. They fired but few shells, for the only guns for that kind of ammunition were the barbette guns on the open rampart, many of which were dismounted by the continuous fire of the enemy, and the serving of which, from the lack of casemate protection, would have rapidly thinned out the Major’s little band.

As the number of men was so small, and the garrison so nearly exhausted by the several months of siege which they had gone through, it was necessary to husband their strength. The command was therefore divided into three reliefs, or equal parties, who were to work the different batteries by turns, each four hours.

The first relief opened upon the iron batteries at Cummings Point, at a distance of 1,600 yards, the iron floating battery, distant 1,800 or 2,000 yards at the end of Sullivan’s Island, the enfilading battery on Sullivan’s Island, and Fort Moultrie. This was at 7 o’clock in the morning, Captain Doubleday firing the first gun, and all the points named above being opened upon simultaneously. For the first four hours the firing was kept up with great rapidity; the enthusiasm of the men, indeed, was so spirited that the second and third reliefs could not be kept from the guns. This accounts for the fact that double the number of guns were at work during the first four hours than at any other time.

Shells burst with the greatest rapidity in every portion of the work, hurling the loose brick and stone in all directions, breaking the windows, and setting fire to whatever woodwork they burst against. The solid shot firing of the enemy’s batteries, and particularly of Fort Moultrie, were directed at the barbette guns of Fort Sumter, disabling one ten-inch columbiad, (they had but two,) one eight-inch columbiad, one forty-two pounder, and two eight-inch sea-coast howitzers, and also tearing a large portion of the parapet away. The firing from the batteries on Cummings Point was scattered over the whole of the gorge, or rear, of the fort, riddling it like a sieve. The explosion of shells, and the quantity of deadly missiles that were hurled in every direction and at every instant of time, made it almost certain death to go out of the lower tier of casemates, and also made the working of the barbette, or upper uncovered guns, which contained all of our heaviest metals, and by which alone we could throw shells, quite impossible. During the first day there was hardly an instant of time that there was a cessation of the whizzing of balls, which were sometimes coming half a dozen at once. There was not a portion of the work which was not seen in reverse (that is, exposed by the rear) from mortars.

On Friday, before dinner, several of the vessels of the fleet beyond the bar were seen through the port-holes. They dipped their flags. The commander ordered Sumter’s flag to be dipped in return, which was done, while the shells were bursting in every direction. [The flagstaff was located in the parade, which is about the centre of the open space within the fort.] Sergeant Hart saw the flag of Fort Sumter half way down, and, supposing that it had been cut by the enemy’s shot, rushed out through the fire to assist in getting it up. Shortly after it had been re-raised, a shell burst and cut the halyards, but the rope was so intertwined around the halyards, that the flag would not fall.

The cartridges were exhausted about noon, and a party was sent to the magazines to make cartridges of the remaining blankets and shirts, the sleeves of the latter being readily converted into the purpose desired. Another great misfortune was, that there was not an instrument in the fort by which they could weigh powder, which of course destroyed all attempt at accuracy of firing. Nor had they tangent scales, breech sides, or other instruments with which to point a gun.

When it became so dark as to render it impossible to see the effect of their shot, the port-holes were closed for the night, while the batteries of the secessionists continued their fire the whole night.

During Friday, the officers’ barracks were three times set on fire by the shells, and three times put out under the most galling and destructive firing. This was the only occasion on which Major Anderson allowed the men to expose themselves without an absolute necessity. The guns on the parapet, which had been pointed the day before, were fired clandestinely by some of the men.

The firing of the rifled guns from the iron battery on Cummings Point became extremely accurate in the afternoon of Friday, cutting out large quantities of the masonry about the embrasures at every shot, throwing concrete among the cannoneers, slightly wounding one man, and stunning others. One piece struck Sergeant Kearnan, an old Mexican war veteran, on the head and knocked him down. Upon being revived, he was asked if he was hurt badly. He replied: “No; I was only knocked down temporarily,” and he went to work again.

Meals were served at the guns of the cannoneers, while the guns were being fired and pointed. The fire commenced in the morning as soon as possible.

During Friday night the men endeavored to climb the flagstaff, for the purpose of fastening new halyards, the old ones having been cut by the shot, but found it impossible. The flag remained fast.

For the fourth time the barracks were set on fire early on Saturday morning, and attempts were made to put it out. But it was soon discovered that red-hot shot were being thrown into the fort with the greatest rapidity, and it became evident that it would be impossible to put out the conflagration. The whole garrison was then set at work, or as many as could be spared, to remove the powder from the magazines. It was desperate work, rolling barrels of powder through the fire.

Ninety odd barrels had been rolled out through the flames, when the heat became so great as to make it impossible to get out any more. The doors were then closed and locked, and the fire spread and became general. The wind so directed the smoke as to fill the fort so full that the men could not see each other, and with the hot, stifling air, it was as much as a man could do to breathe. Soon they were obliged to cover their faces with wet cloths in order to breathe at all, so dense was the smoke and so scorching the heat.

But few cartridges were left, and the guns were fired slowly; nor could more cartridges be made, on account of the sparks falling in every part of the works. A gun was fired every now and then only to let the fleet and the people in the town know that the fort had not been silenced. The cannoneers could not see to aim, much less where the shot fell.

After the barracks were well on fire, the batteries directed upon Fort Sumter increased their cannonading to a rapidity greater than had been attained before. About this time, the shells and ammunition in the upper service-magazines exploded, scattering the tower and upper portions of the building in every direction. 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 obtained 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 fury.

All but four barrels were thus disposed of, and those remaining were wrapped in many thicknesses of wet woolen blankets. But three cartridges were left, and these were in the guns. About this time the flagstaff 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. A man 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 halyards 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.

A few moments after, and a man was seen with a white flag tied to his sword, who desired admission. He was admitted through an embrasure. In a great flurry, he said he was General Wigfall, and that he came from General Beauregard, and added that he had seen that Sumter’s flag was down. Lieutenant Davis replied, “Oh, sir! but it is up again.” The cannonading meanwhile continued. General Wigfall asked that some one might hold his flag outside. Lieutenant Davis replied, “No, sir! we don’t raise a white flag. If you want your batteries to stop, you must stop them.” General Wigfall then held the flag out of an embrasure. As soon as he had done this, Lieutenant Davis directed a corporal to relieve him, as it was General Wigfall’s flag.

Several shots struck immediately around him while he was holding it out, when he started back, and putting the flag in Wigfall’s face, said, “D——n it; I won’t hold that flag, for they don’t respect it. They struck their colors, but we never did.” Wigfall replied, “They fired at me three or four times, and I should think you ought to stand it once.” Wigfall then placed the white flag on the outside of the embrasure, and presented himself to Major Anderson, and said that General Beauregard was desirous that blood should not be unnecessarily shed, and also stated that he came from General Beauregard, who desired to know if Major Anderson would evacuate the fort, and that if he would do so he might choose his own terms.

After a moment’s hesitation Major Anderson replied that he would go out on the same terms that he (Major Anderson) had mentioned on the 11th. General Wigfall then said: “Very well; then it is understood that you will evacuate. This is all I have to do. You military men will arrange everything else on your own terms.” He then departed, the white flag still waving where he had placed it, and the stars and stripes streaming from the flagstaff which had become the target of the rebels.

Shortly after his departure Major Lee, the Hon. Porcher Miles, Senator Chesnut, and the Hon. Roger A. Pryor, the staff of General Beauregard, approached the fort with a white flag, and said they had come from General Beauregard, who had observed that the flag had been down and raised again a few minutes afterward. The General had sent over, desiring to know if he could render any assistance, as he had observed the fort was on fire. (This was perhaps a delicate mode of asking for a surrender.) Major Anderson, in reply, requested them to thank General Beauregard for the offer, but it was too late, as he had just agreed with General Beauregard for an evacuation. The three persons comprising the deputation, looked at each other blankly, and asked with whom? Major Anderson, observing that there was something wrong, remarked that General Wigfall, who had just left, had represented himself to be an aid to General Beauregard, and that he had come over to make the proposition.

After some conversation among themselves, they said to Major Anderson that Wigfall had not seen General Beauregard for two days. Major Anderson replied that Wigfall’s offer and its acceptance had placed him in a peculiar position. They then requested him to place in writing what General Wigfall had said to him, and they would lay it before General Beauregard.

Before this reached General Beauregard, he sent his Adjutant-General and other members of his staff, including the Hon. Roger A. Pryor and Governor Manning, proposing the same conditions which Major Anderson had offered to go out upon, with the exception only of not saluting the flag. Major Anderson said that he had already informed General Beauregard that he was going out. They asked him if he would not accept of the terms without the salute. Major Anderson told them, No; but that it should be an open point.

General Beauregard sent down to say that the terms had been accepted, and that he would send the Isabel or any other vessel at his command to convey Major Anderson and the troops to any port in the United States which he might elect.

No braver men ever lived than the defenders of Fort Sumter; but the ardor and endurance of musician Hall of Company E was remarked by every man in Sumter, and the company presented him with a testimonial. He was at the firing of the first guns, and fought on all day, and would not accept either of the three reliefs. He was up at the first shot the next day, and worked without cessation till night. His example and words of cheer had great effect. This is the more worthy of remark as he belonged to the musicians, and was not obliged to enter into the engagement at all.

Mr. Hart, a volunteer from New York, particularly distinguished himself in trying to put out the flames in the quarters, with shells and shot crashing around him. He was ordered away by Major Anderson, but begged hard to be permitted to remain and continue his exertions.

Never did famished men work more bravely than those who defended that fortress, knowing, as they did, that if successfully defended and held by them, there was not even a biscuit left to divide among them. They never would have left it while a protecting wall stood around them, had they been provided with provision and ammunition. Every man was true and faithful to his post; hunger and want of ammunition alone caused them to leave Fort Sumter. They were exposed to a most terrible fire from all quarters, and it was only by exercising the utmost care that the officers were enabled to preserve the men from a terrible slaughter. Fort Sumter in itself was hardly worth the holding; had there been the full fighting complement of men within its walls, the fort would not have afforded suitable protection for one-half of them. The enemy’s shot rained in upon and about them like hail, and more men in Sumter would only have made greater havoc. As it was, the garrison proved fortunate in having escaped without the loss of one of those brave men who were willing to die for the flag which waved over them.

The evacuation took place about 9½ o’clock on Sunday morning, after the burial with military honors of private Daniel Hough, who had been killed by the bursting of a gun. The men had been all the morning preparing cartridges for the purpose of firing a salute of one hundred guns. This done, the embarkation took place, the band meanwhile playing Yankee Doodle.

STORMING OF FORT SUMTER, VIEWED FROM THE LAND.

A person who witnessed the bombardment of Fort Sumter from the harbor, gives this graphic account:

The terrific firing reached an awful climax at ten o’clock at night. The heavens were obscured by rain clouds, and it was as dark as Erebus. The guns were heard distinctly, the wind blowing in shore. Sometimes a shell would burst in mid-air, directly over Fort Sumter. Nearly all night long the streets were thronged with people, full of excitement and enthusiasm. The house-tops, the battery, the wharves, the shipping,—in fact every available place was taken possession of by the multitude.

The discharges of cannon gradually diminished as the sun rose. All the clouds, which rendered the night so dark and dismal, disappeared as day began to break, while the air became most beautiful, balmy, and refreshing. The streets were filled again with persons, male and female, old and young, white and black; some went to the battery, some to the wharves, and some to the steeples of the churches.

A few random shots were fired from the Confederate batteries, to which Fort Sumter only replied occasionally. Soon it became evident that Sumter was on fire, and all eyes were rivetted upon it. The dense smoke that issued from it was seen gradually to rise from the ramparts. Some supposed that this was merely a signal from Major Anderson to call in the fleet to aid him.

At this time the fleet was in the offing quietly riding at anchor, and could clearly be distinguished. Four vessels were ranged in line directly over the bar, apparently blockading the port. Their long, black hulls and smoke stacks proved them to be Federal steamers. Every one anxiously waited to see what they would do. The suspense was very exciting. On all sides could be heard,

“Will the vessels come in and engage the batteries? If they do not they are cowardly poltroons.”

Every person on the battery fully expected that the engagement would become general. By the aid of glasses, it was believed that a movement was being made to this end by two of the war ships, and it was thought that the sand would soon begin to fly from the Morris Island batteries.

At ten o’clock in the morning, attention was again rivetted on Fort Sumter, which was now beyond a doubt on fire. The flames were seen to burst from the roofs of the houses within its walls, and dense columns of smoke shot quickly upward.

At this time Major Anderson scarcely fired a shot. The guns on the ramparts of Fort Sumter had no utterance in them. Burst shells and grape scattered like hail over the doomed fort, and drove the soldiers under cover.

From the Iron Battery at Cummings Point a continuous fire was kept up. Its rifled cannon played sad havoc with that portion of Fort Sumter facing it. The firing from the Floating Battery and from Fort Moultrie continued very regular and accurate. Standing on the Charleston battery, and looking seaward, you have on the right a mortar battery and Fort Johnson, distant from the city two and a half miles. Half a mile from Fort Johnson is the Iron Battery of Cummings Point, mounting three ten-inch columbiads, three sixty-four-pounders, three mortars, and one rifled cannon. Cummings Point is only fifteen hundred yards from Fort Sumter, and so any one can imagine what havoc the regular fire of the Cummings Point battery must have created.

The men working the guns made them terribly effective. The sand redoubt was scarcely injured by the weak fire Major Anderson kept up on the battery. It was commanded by Major Stevens, of the Citadel Cadets. Under his direction each shell that was fired found a destination within Fort Sumter, and during the entire bombardment scarcely one missile of this character missed its mark.

On the other side of the harbor, directly opposite Fort Sumter, is one of the strongest sides of Fort Moultrie. During the last three months it has been strengthened by every appliance that military art could suggest. Its marlons, moats, glaces, and embrasures are perfectly protected. The weak walls of the fort were made perfectly secure for the gunners while at work. From this point throughout the engagement vast numbers of shot and heavy balls were discharged.

Behind this, and near Sullivan’s Island, the Floating Battery was stationed, with two sixty-four and two forty-two pounders. Its sides of iron and palmetto logs were impenetrable. Every shot from it told on Fort Sumter, and the men in charge of it were so secure in their position, that some of them indulged in soldiers’ pastimes, while others played five cent ante, euchre and bluff.

The Mortar Battery at Mount Pleasant was five hundred yards from the Floating Battery, and was mounted with two mortars within excellent range of Fort Sumter. The shells from this mortar were thrown with great precision. You now have all the positions of the works bearing directly on Fort Sumter.

All through Friday morning the greatest activity at all points was displayed. Three times Major Anderson’s barracks were set on fire, and twice he succeeded in putting out the flames, and to do this it was necessary to employ all his force in passing along water. To get water it was necessary for some of his men to go outside the walls, and hand the buckets in through the port-holes, during all which time they were exposed to a most terrific fire from the various batteries.

This last expedient was not resorted to until the fort was on fire for the third time, and the flames had increased to an alarming pitch. Meantime, Major Anderson’s guns were silent. He allowed his men to be exposed to the galling fire upon them but for a few moments, and then ordered them in and shut the batteries as the smoke was too thick to work them. At noon the flames burst from every quarter of Fort Sumter, and its destruction appeared inevitable.

NAVAL EXPEDITION FOR THE RELIEF OF SUMTER.

The Government had sent a well-laden fleet to the relief of Fort Sumter, a portion of which arrived in Charleston harbor time enough to witness the bombardment of the fort, without the power to help its heroic garrison.

This fleet left New York and Washington from the 6th to the 9th of April. It consisted of the sloop-of-war, Pawnee, 10 guns, and 200 men; Pocahontas, 5 guns, 110 men; cutter Harriet Lane, 5 guns, 110 men; accompanied by the transport Baltic, and the steam-tugs Yankee and Uncle Ben, with additional men and stores. Owing to stormy weather, the vessels were unable to reach the Charleston coast at the appointed time. The Pawnee, Harriet Lane, and the Baltic arrived at the rendezvous on the morning of the 12th April, but the Pocahontas did not join them until the next day. The steamtug Yankee lost her smoke-stack in the storm which dispersed the fleet, and did not reach the neighborhood of Charleston till after the departure of her consorts, and eventually returned to New York. Nothing was heard of the Uncle Ben until the 30th of April, when intelligence was received that she had been captured by the insurgents off the coast of North Carolina.

The orders of the expedition were, that unarmed boats should first be sent to the fort with stores only; but if these were fired upon, every effort was to be made to relieve the fort by stratagem or force. The vessels of war and the Baltic proved of too heavy draft for any hopes of passing the bar, and the steam-tugs which were to have been sent in with supplies, failed to make their appearance. The attack on the fort, before any measures of a peaceable character could be adopted for its relief, left no alternative but force, to the commandant of the fleet, if the object of his expedition was to be accomplished. A consultation of officers was held at four o’clock on the afternoon of the 12th, and the following plan was agreed upon: the Pawnee and the Harriet Lane were to remain at anchor during the night; at dawn, on the 13th, the Pawnee was to hoist out her armed launches, and the Baltic was to put her boats alongside, freighted with the provisions and troops designed for the fort. The war vessels were then to tow the boats as far as possible on their perilous journey, when they were to be cast off, and allowed to pursue their course toward the fort, relying upon the guns of the men-of-war, and what aid might be extended from Sumter, to protect them from the batteries and flotilla of armed boats, which were in readiness to dispute their advance. During the night the Baltic went aground on Rattlesnake Shoals, and the plan agreed upon was, from necessity, relinquished. The conflagration of the barracks of the fort having precipitated its evacuation earlier than was anticipated, the officers of the fleet abandoned other plans for its relief.

At two o’clock on the 14th of April, Major Anderson and the garrison of Fort Sumter were received on board the Baltic, and the fleet shortly after sailed for New York. The flag of the fort was borne at the mast-head of the Baltic as she entered the bay of New York, where it was saluted by guns from every fort in the harbor, and hailed by the shouts of more than a hundred thousand people, who lined the wharves of the city. It was also raised over the equestrian statue of Washington in Union Square, in that city, when the great Union meeting was held on the afternoon of Saturday, April 20.