The Flag Replaced on Sumter Part 2

All was now ready, and the hour, the moment, for which the nation had so long earnestly struggled and patiently waited, had come at last!

"Though the mills of G.o.d grind slowly, Yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, With exactness grinds He all!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROBERT ANDERSON.]

Who of us can ever forget that memorable hour, or the deep and silent expectation of the great a.s.sembly, as General Robert Anderson, the hero of the day, stepped forward, and with uncovered head and a voice trembling with emotion, said:

"I am here, my friends, my fellow-citizens and fellow-soldiers, to perform an act of duty to my country, dear to my heart, and which all of you will appreciate and feel. Had I observed the wishes of my heart, it should have been done in silence; but in accordance with the request of the Honorable Secretary of War, I make a few remarks, as by his order, after four long, long years of war, I restore to its proper place this dear flag, which floated here during peace, before the first act of this cruel rebellion.

[Taking the halyards in his hands, he said:] I thank G.o.d that I have lived to see this day, and to be here, to perform this, perhaps the last act of my life, of duty to my country. My heart is filled with grat.i.tude to that G.o.d who has so signally blessed us, who has given us blessings beyond measure. May all the nations bless and praise the name of the Lord, and all the world proclaim, 'Glory to G.o.d in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"

"Amen! amen!" the mult.i.tude responded. Then the old veteran grasped the halyards with firm and steady hand, and

"Forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled The starry banner, which full high advanced, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FLAG REPLACED ON SUMTER.]

A loud and prolonged shout, from fort and fleet, greeted the old flag as, all tattered with shot and sh.e.l.l, it rose above the battlements into its native air. The whole audience sprang to their feet. Several bands began to play their most inspiring music. Men swung their hats and grasped each other by the hand; women and children waved their handkerchiefs, and many wept for very joy. As it rested at length in its old place at the top of the staff, and waved its victorious folds towards the recovered city, which had first disowned it, the enthusiasm became tumultuous and overpowering, till at last it found relief in the national song:

"The star spangled banner, O long may it wave, O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!"

I can never forget the impression of that glorious spectacle, and that song of victory that went up from five thousand voices. The colored soldier pacing to and fro, with beating heart and gazing aloft with pride upon the "flag of the free hearts' hope and home," could now exclaim, "Yes, that is now _my_ flag! and yonder, at Fort Wagner, the colored soldier fought and died to restore it. Four years ago, when that flag went down, more than four millions of my people _had_ no flag! But to-day it is _our_ flag, and _our_ country!"

Immediately followed the grand artillery salute to the flag; and I left my seat and climbed the look-out high above upon the wall to obtain an un.o.bstructed view of the bay. First, the heavy guns of Sumter thundered forth their hearty greeting to the flag. Then, in loyal and quick response, came the answering notes from Fort Moultrie and Morris Island, followed by a national salute from every fort and rebel battery that had fired upon the flag four years before.

Finally the fleet, with the little monitors, joined in the deep harmonies of the grand chorus, till the earth trembled with the cannonade, the air grew heavy with smoke, and nothing was visible but the rapid flashes of the artillery. For a moment it seemed as if the a.s.sault of '61 was being re-enacted before me. But it is safe to add that had this been the case, I should hardly have chosen such an elevated position upon the observatory of the fort. At length the roar of cannon ceased, the dense clouds of smoke and sand drifted away, and order was restored. The orator of the day, Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, then began his address, of which the opening and closing sentences were as follows:

"On this solemn and joyful day, we again lift to the breeze our fathers' flag, now, again, the banner of _the United States_, with the fervent prayer that G.o.d would crown it with honor, protect it from treason, and send it down to our children, with all the blessings of civilization, liberty and religion. Terrible in battle, may it be beneficent in peace. Happily, no bird or beast of prey has been inscribed upon it. The stars that redeem the night from darkness, and the beams of red light that beautify the morning, have been united upon its folds. As long as the sun endures, or the stars, may it wave over a nation neither enslaved nor enslaving. [Great applause.]

"Once, and but once, has treason dishonored it. In that insane hour, when the guiltiest and bloodiest rebellion of time hurled their fires upon this fort, you, sir, [turning to General Anderson,] and a small, heroic band, stood within these now crumbled walls, and did gallant and just battle for the honor and defense of the nation's banner.

[Applause.]...

"To-day you are returned again. We devoutly join with you in thanksgiving to Almighty G.o.d, that he has spared your honored life, and vouchsafed you the honors of this day. The heavens over you are the same; the same sh.o.r.es; morning comes, and evening, as they did. All else, how changed! What grim batteries crowd the burdened sh.o.r.es! What scenes have filled this air, and disturbed these waters! These shattered heaps of shapeless stone are all that is left of Fort Sumter. Desolation broods in yonder sad city--solemn retribution hath avenged our dishonored banner! You have come back with honor, who departed hence, four years ago, leaving the air sultry with fanaticism. The surging crowds that rolled up their frenzied shouts, as the flag came down, are dead, or scattered, or silent; and their habitations are desolate. Ruin sits in the cradle of treason. Rebellion has perished. But there flies the same flag that was insulted.

[Great and prolonged applause.] With starry eyes it looks all over this bay for that banner that supplanted it, and sees it not. [Applause.] You that then, for the day, were humbled, are here again, to triumph once and forever.

[Applause.] In the storm of that a.s.sault this glorious ensign was often struck; but, memorable fact, not one of its _stars_ was torn out by shot or sh.e.l.l. [Applause.] It was a prophecy. It said, 'Not one State shall be struck from this nation by treason!' The fulfillment is at hand. Lifted to the air, to-day, it proclaims, after four years of war, 'Not a State is blotted out!' [Applause.] Hail to the flag of our fathers, and our flag! Glory to the banner that has gone through four years black with tempests of war, to pilot the nation back to peace without dismemberment! And glory be to G.o.d, who, above all hosts and banners, hath ordained victory, and shall ordain peace! [Applause.]

"Our nation, under one government, without slavery, has been ordained, and shall stand. There can be peace on no other basis. Reverently, piously, in hopeful patriotism, we spread this banner on the sky, as of old the bow was planted on the cloud; and, with solemn fervor, beseech G.o.d to look upon it, and make it the memorial of an everlasting covenant and decree, that never again on this fair land shall a deluge of blood prevail. [Applause.]...

"From this pulpit of broken stone we speak forth our earnest greeting to all our land.

"We offer to the President of these United States our solemn congratulations that G.o.d has sustained his life and health under the unparalleled burdens and sufferings of four b.l.o.o.d.y years, and permitted him to behold this auspicious consummation of that national unity for which he has waited with so much patience and fort.i.tude, and for which he has labored with such disinterested wisdom. [Applause.]

"To the members of the government a.s.sociated with him in the administration of perilous affairs in critical times; to the Senators and Representatives of the United States, who have eagerly fashioned the instruments by which the popular will might express and enforce itself, we tender our grateful thanks. [Applause.]

"To the officers and men of the Army and Navy, who have so faithfully, skillfully, and gloriously upheld their country's authority, by suffering, labor, and sublime courage, we offer here a tribute beyond the compa.s.s of words. [Great applause.]

"Upon these true and faithful citizens, men and women, who have borne up with unflinching hope in the darkest hour, and covered the land with the labors of love and charity, we invoke the divinest blessing of Him whom they have so truly imitated. [Applause.]

"But, chiefly, to Thee, G.o.d of our fathers, we render thanksgiving and praise for that wondrous Providence that has brought forth from such a harvest of war, the seed of so much liberty and peace. We invoke peace upon the North.

Peace be to the West. Peace be upon the South.

"In the name of G.o.d we lift up our banner, and dedicate it to Peace, Union and Liberty, now and forever." [Great applause.]

At the conclusion of the address, the audience arose and sang the doxology. An impressive prayer followed, with the benediction, by the Rev. Dr. Storrs, Jr. Six deafening cheers were then given for the old flag replaced on Sumter; and three times three for President Lincoln, General Robert Anderson, and our soldiers and sailors. Many of us remained to avail ourselves of the opportunity to shake hands with the old veteran, and I well remember the exultation with which I walked off with the General's autograph.

We spent an hour in exploring the walls and cas.e.m.e.nts of the fort and rummaging about for relics. It was amusing to see a man who, after selecting a twenty-five pound shot for a memento, would carry it a short distance, change hands to make it easier, and then come to the conclusion that it was foolish to lug such a heavy thing around; or to see another person, who had been sweating under the burden of a heavy sh.e.l.l,--when suddenly told that it was still loaded and liable to go off, and take him off with it,--quickly turn and lay it down carefully, and quietly depart. I satisfied my curiosity with a few small grape and canister shot, some fragments of exploded sh.e.l.ls, and a section of the rebel iron wire fence on the outer wall.

It must have been fully six o'clock when we all arrived safely back to the city. At sunset there was another grand salute from the fleet, and in the evening we were summoned on deck to witness the closing demonstration of the day. Nothing could be seen in the darkness, till quick, as if by magic, at the signal from the flag-ship of the Admiral, the entire harbor for miles around was brilliantly illuminated. Every vessel and transport and monitor was ablaze with many-colored fires. Each mast and sail and rope was aglow with light.

From every deck came the roar and glare of rockets, darting in quick procession to the sky, then turning and descending in showers of golden rain. Hundreds of lanterns, red, green and white, suspended from the rigging, flashed out their starry signals over the bay, and were reflected in the waters beneath, while heavy clouds of smoke, tinged with golden radiance, rolled heavenward like ascending incense, presenting a scene of rare enchantment.

But hark! another signal gun is heard. Every light instantly disappears! Every sound is hushed! and grim darkness again mantles the waters of the bay; and, I was about to add, we were all soon in sleep's serene oblivion, but my diary records that at nine o'clock P.M. five of us took an impressed carriage and started for the Charleston Hotel, to attend a reception given by General Gilmore. On our arrival, we made a bargain with our negro driver to wait for us, say half an hour, more or less, and then take us over to the Battery, to General Hatch's grand military ball. But once inside, we became so much absorbed, like little Tommy Tucker, in the supper and the toasts, that we forgot all about our colored driver outside,--just as people do at parties still. The following are brief extracts from the remarks of two or three of the princ.i.p.al speakers.

Judge-Advocate Holt, in responding to the toast, "General Robert Anderson," said:

"It is not uncommon for organizations in treason or in crime, on a vast scale, to commit mistakes in the selection of agents to accomplish their work; and no man in all history committed a greater mistake than Floyd, in the selection of General Anderson, on the sole ground of his being a southern man, to command Fort Sumter. He thought to find in him a tool of treason, but he found instead a loyal, fearless, and true man. Those who have led great treasonable enterprises, or great crimes, have suffered most from mingled rage and angry fear when they discovered such mistakes in the selection of their agents, and none suffered more in this respect than Secretary Floyd, on hearing of the transfer of the small but devoted garrison from Fort Moultrie to the solid walls of Fort Sumter. There was one man, still in the service of the government, who was with Floyd, in the Cabinet, at the time, and could bear evidence to the rage of the defeated traitor, and that man, with giant brain and steadfast heart, has for three years presided at the head of the war Department--Edwin M.

Stanton."

Major-General Abner Doubleday was called out by some remarks referring to the part he took in the defense of Fort Sumter, and said:

"I feel to-day as if I had been present at the birth of a new nation. I was most happy to have been present at the impressive ceremonies this day, and glad to remember that I dealt some blows against secession in the same place four years ago. I never doubted then the propriety of our resistance. I felt that the only answer to armed treason must come from the mouth of the cannon. There is one cla.s.s of men in that early effort to whom justice has not been done. I mean the enlisted men. They were offered every inducement to desert,--heavy bribes, and promotion in a new service,--but they refused them all. [Cheers.] They were told that there would be no necessity for any fighting; that there would soon be peace, as the North could not stand up against them; but all their efforts failed, and I give you, 'The remembrance of those n.o.ble soldiers.'" [Great cheering.]

But we were particularly interested in General Robert Anderson's response to a toast which had been a.s.signed to General John A. Dix, who sent the famous order to Louisiana, in 1861, "If any man attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot!"

General Anderson concluded by introducing the toast, "Abraham Lincoln," with an eloquent tribute of respect and affection. Said he:

"I beg you now, that you will join me in drinking the health of another man whom we all love to honor,--the man who, when elected President of the United States, was compelled to reach the seat of government without an escort, but a man who now could travel _all_ over our country with millions of hands and hearts to sustain him. I give you the good, the great, the honest man, Abraham Lincoln."

How little we dreamed, as the cheers, twice repeated, went around, that at that self-same hour the honored President lay prostrate and dying in the National Capital from the bullet of an a.s.sa.s.sin.

"Thus grief ever treads upon the heels of pleasure"-- "And all alike await the inevitable hour; The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

Having now remained at the hotel over an hour, we went out to look after our colored coachman, only to find, as we might have expected, that he had given us the slip. But we took possession of another carriage that fortunately came up, and, in answer to the sable inquiry, "Am Colonel Fuller ready for de ball?" we kindly informed our colored friend that if he would take us to the ball, the Colonel would undoubtedly be ready by the time he returned. Thus a.s.sured, he started off with us over a very dark and rough road, through the burnt district, till we stopped at length before a fine old mansion on East Bay street, brilliantly illuminated, from which sounds of music and festivity proceeded. Here, we were told, was the scene of another grand ball, given by the Confederates in honor of the fall of Sumter, just four years before. Some of the same negroes who served at the first ball, as _slaves_, now attended the second as _free and independent_ waiters. I purchased of one of them for a nominal sum quite a collection of Confederate currency, a Palmetto bra.s.s b.u.t.ton, and a quaint Pompeiian lamp, which are still preserved as mementoes of the occasion. We were told "dat Ma.s.sa Middleton used to own de place,"

but, as the darkeys sing:

"He saw a smoke way down de ribber, Where de Linc.u.m gunboats lay, He took his hat, an' lef' berry sudden, An' I 'specs he's run'd away!"

So the fine estate, with its broad verandas, and elegant mirrors and paintings on the walls, all became, including the darkeys, "contraband of war."

The next day was Sat.u.r.day, and it was announced that the "Ocea.n.u.s"

would sail at five in the afternoon. The hour of departure was afterwards postponed to Sunday morning at nine o'clock, by advice of the pilot. We visited various points of interest on Sat.u.r.day, including the office of the Charleston _Mercury_, where we secured some interesting papers, which are referred to in the Appendix. We also saw the slave-marts, where families had so long been bought and sold like cattle. I secured a bill of sale of a slave who was described as "a negro fellow called Simon." The seller's name was Mordecai, and the buyer of "the sole use of Simon forever," was a Mr.

Lazarus.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

During the morning, one of our lady pa.s.sengers was accosted by an aged black woman with a hen and a bag of eggs, as follows: "Missus, I want to gib de northern ladies sumthin', but I have nuthin' but this yer hen, and these yer eggs. Won't you take 'em?" This was too much for the sympathetic nature of Mrs. B----, but what to do with the hen and her products so far from home, was the question. Finally the eggs were taken and the hen left. The woman was rewarded and departed in much delight. On the homeward voyage a gentleman proposed to take them up to his country seat in New York State, and put them under the care of the most motherly hen of his large flock. This was done with the following result:

"JUNE 10, 1865.

"I am happy to inform you that the Charleston hen has done her duty as well as could be expected under the circ.u.mstances. The eggs were evidently the product of secession times, and stoutly resisted all northern influences. But the mother hen determined, '_a la_ General Grant,' to set it out on this nest 'if it took all summer!'