“Showers of balls from 10-inch Columbiads and 42 pounders, and shells from [10] inch mortars poured into the fort in one incessant stream, causing great flakes of masonry to fall in all directions. When the immense mortar shells, after sailing high in the air, came down in a vertical direction, and buried themselves in the parade ground, their explosion shook the fort like an earthquake.”
All Charleston watched. Business was entirely suspended. King Street was deserted. The Battery, the wharves and shipping, and “every steeple and cupalo in the city” were crowded with anxious spectators. And “never before had such crowds of ladies without attendants” visited the streets of Charleston. “The women were wild” on the housetops. In the darkness before dawn there were “Prayers from the women and imprecations from the men; and then a shell would light up the scene.” As the day advanced, the city became rife with rumors: “Tonight, they say, the forces are to attempt to land. The Harriet Lane had her wheel house smashed and put back to sea.... We hear nothing, can listen to nothing. Boom boom goes the cannon all the time. The nervous strain is awful....” Volunteers rushed to join their companies. There was “Stark Means marching under the piazza at the head of his regiment ...,” his proud mother leaning over the balcony rail “looking with tearful eyes.” Two members of the Palmetto Guards paid $50 for a boat to carry them to Morris Island.
The bombardment of Fort Sumter, April 13, 1861.
The barracks at Fort Sumter caught fire three times that first day, but each time the fire was extinguished. One gun on the parapet was dismounted; another damaged. The wall about one embrasure was shattered to a depth of 20 inches. That was the Blakely rifle, in part, firing with “the accuracy of a duelling pistol.” The quarters on the gorge were completely riddled. When night descended, dark and stormy, Fort Sumter’s fire ceased entirely. With the six needles available, the work of making cartridge bags went forward; blankets, old clothing, extra hospital sheets, and even paper, were used in the emergency. In the meantime, the supply fleet, off the bar since the onset of hostilities, did no more than maintain its position. It had been crippled upon departure when Seward’s meddling had caused withdrawal of the powerful warship Powhatan. Now, bad weather prevented even a minimum supporting operation.
Col. Louis T. Wigfall. From Mrs. D. Giraud Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61. Courtesy Doubleday & Company.
On the morning of the 13th, Sumter opened “early and spitefully,” and, with the increased supply of cartridges, for a while kept up a brisk fire. About midmorning hot shot set fire to the officers’ quarters. The Confederate fire then increased; soon the whole extent of the quarters was in flames; the powder magazines were in danger. The blaze spread to the barracks. By noon the fort was almost uninhabitable. The men crowded to the embrasures for air or lay on the ground with handkerchiefs over their mouths. For a time the fort continued to fire; valiant efforts had saved some of the powder before the onrush of the flames forced the closing of the magazines. Meanwhile, at every shot, the Confederate troops, “carried away by their natural generous impulses,” mounted the different batteries and “cheered the garrison for its pluck and gallantry and hooted the fleet lying inactive just outside the bar.”
Interior of Fort Sumter after the bombardment of April 1861. The Left Flank barrack is at the left; the Left Face is at the right. From G. S. Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War.