replied. The emissaries then withdrew.
Within the fort, sleep was out of the question. “We arose and dressed,” wrote Union officer Samuel Wylie Crawford, “and before
our arrangements were completed, the firing began.” 13 It was almost exactly 4:30 a.m. on April 12 when it started. The great honor of firing the first shot of the war, coveted
by officers at Fort Johnson, had been offered to the fiery secessionist Roger Pryor, who had retreated to that point by 4
a.m. Oddly, however, he turned down the offer, later saying, “I could not fire the first gun of the war.” The first shot,
a ten-inch mortar shell sent as a signal round to activate the other batteries, was fired by the fort’s commander, Capt. George
S. James. “A flash as of distant lightning in the direction of Mount Pleasant, followed by the dull roar of a mortar, told
us that the bombardment had begun,” James Chester, a Federal soldier, wrote. 14 In a few minutes’ time, the sudden flashes and a surprising number of projectiles, along with the acrid, sulfurous smell
of gunpowder and sight of wafting smoke, arced over the fort. After several hours, particularly after dawn, most of the batteries
gained an effective range and started spitting shells and balls into the fort with frightening accuracy. In a variety of locations,
some Southerners stoked hot-shot furnaces to heat their iron balls into fire starters, hoping to ignite Sumter’s wooden barracks.
Bricks were smashed, and splinters of wood, brick dust, and mortar chunks cascaded into the air. The soldiers scattered and
took cover. “A ball from Cummings’s Point lodged in the magazine wall,” wrote Union officer Abner Doubleday of the first moments
of the war, “and by the sound seemed to bury itself in the masonry about a foot from my head, in very unpleasant proximity
to my right ear.” 15 What had been one of the most magnificent fortifications in North America was disintegrating into a pile of rubble.
The fire from Southern guns increased in accuracy and frequency after daybreak, when a breeze carried the fumes and sounds
of war more effectively into the city. Observers watched the spectacle with amazement as the night turned into day. The youthful
Confederacy had struck its first blow.
With such a small amount of ammunition available, Anderson had no reason to react quickly. After breakfasting on a small amount
of farina, some of the Federals mounted a response using several cannon, but only a few guns were brought to bear. Doubleday
fired the first Yankee cannon of the war. Crawford reported knocking out a gun in the floating battery. But the volume of
shells being fired at Sumter was magnificent; it already had ignited a small fire in the wood-framed quarters and knocked
away a chimney.
During the afternoon, the Confederate bombardment of Sumter continued without pause, raining shot and shell into and over
the fort. Some of Anderson’s soldiers were wounded slightly by flying debris; most were unscathed, but the fort’s walls were
becoming pocked with hits and cracks, and brick dust was accumulating on the parade. Pvt. John Carmody tested the Rebels at
Fort Moultrie by sneaking up to the parapet and firing the heavier guns in quick succession at the fort; this only prompted
the Confederates into returning a heavy fire onto Sumter. With the approach of nightfall, the firing from Confederate batteries
lessened. Amazingly, there had been no deaths on either side.
On the evening of April 12, rain fell on Charleston. Anderson ordered his firing suspended. On the Confederate side, an occasional
mortar shell was sent toward Sumter throughout the night. The Federal soldiers finally had the chance to sleep, “well but
hungry.” Meanwhile, five Federal ships approached, stocked with provisions and the opportunity for escape if necessary. Lincoln’s
special agent Gustavus Vasa Fox attempted to coordinate the movements of
Within the fort, sleep was out of the question. “We arose and dressed,” wrote Union officer Samuel Wylie Crawford, “and before
our arrangements were completed, the firing began.” 13 It was almost exactly 4:30 a.m. on April 12 when it started. The great honor of firing the first shot of the war, coveted
by officers at Fort Johnson, had been offered to the fiery secessionist Roger Pryor, who had retreated to that point by 4
a.m. Oddly, however, he turned down the offer, later saying, “I could not fire the first gun of the war.” The first shot,
a ten-inch mortar shell sent as a signal round to activate the other batteries, was fired by the fort’s commander, Capt. George
S. James. “A flash as of distant lightning in the direction of Mount Pleasant, followed by the dull roar of a mortar, told
us that the bombardment had begun,” James Chester, a Federal soldier, wrote. 14 In a few minutes’ time, the sudden flashes and a surprising number of projectiles, along with the acrid, sulfurous smell
of gunpowder and sight of wafting smoke, arced over the fort. After several hours, particularly after dawn, most of the batteries
gained an effective range and started spitting shells and balls into the fort with frightening accuracy. In a variety of locations,
some Southerners stoked hot-shot furnaces to heat their iron balls into fire starters, hoping to ignite Sumter’s wooden barracks.
Bricks were smashed, and splinters of wood, brick dust, and mortar chunks cascaded into the air. The soldiers scattered and
took cover. “A ball from Cummings’s Point lodged in the magazine wall,” wrote Union officer Abner Doubleday of the first moments
of the war, “and by the sound seemed to bury itself in the masonry about a foot from my head, in very unpleasant proximity
to my right ear.” 15 What had been one of the most magnificent fortifications in North America was disintegrating into a pile of rubble.
The fire from Southern guns increased in accuracy and frequency after daybreak, when a breeze carried the fumes and sounds
of war more effectively into the city. Observers watched the spectacle with amazement as the night turned into day. The youthful
Confederacy had struck its first blow.
With such a small amount of ammunition available, Anderson had no reason to react quickly. After breakfasting on a small amount
of farina, some of the Federals mounted a response using several cannon, but only a few guns were brought to bear. Doubleday
fired the first Yankee cannon of the war. Crawford reported knocking out a gun in the floating battery. But the volume of
shells being fired at Sumter was magnificent; it already had ignited a small fire in the wood-framed quarters and knocked
away a chimney.
During the afternoon, the Confederate bombardment of Sumter continued without pause, raining shot and shell into and over
the fort. Some of Anderson’s soldiers were wounded slightly by flying debris; most were unscathed, but the fort’s walls were
becoming pocked with hits and cracks, and brick dust was accumulating on the parade. Pvt. John Carmody tested the Rebels at
Fort Moultrie by sneaking up to the parapet and firing the heavier guns in quick succession at the fort; this only prompted
the Confederates into returning a heavy fire onto Sumter. With the approach of nightfall, the firing from Confederate batteries
lessened. Amazingly, there had been no deaths on either side.
On the evening of April 12, rain fell on Charleston. Anderson ordered his firing suspended. On the Confederate side, an occasional
mortar shell was sent toward Sumter throughout the night. The Federal soldiers finally had the chance to sleep, “well but
hungry.” Meanwhile, five Federal ships approached, stocked with provisions and the opportunity for escape if necessary. Lincoln’s
special agent Gustavus Vasa Fox attempted to coordinate the movements of
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