FALL OF FORT SUMTER.
The ball has opened;
crowds of eager citizens may be seen gathered together at the corners of the
streets excitedly discussing the grand topic of the day, and that topic is war.
Yes! bloody, destructive war will soon be upon us in all its horror. Oh, God!
grant us the power and fortitude to withstand the terrible calamity now hanging
o'er us, which no power, save that of Divine interposition, can prevent.
Dispatch after
dispatch, from the far South, comes over the magnetic wires, and soon the
astounding news, "big with the fate" of a new-born people, is shouted
by a thousand tongues that
“SUMTER HAS
FALLEN."
The crowds on the
street soon become a dense mass—calm, dignified men seem instantly transformed
into wild Secessionists; there are no Unionists now; we are all determined to
stand by the South, right or wrong—too late for discussion now—with her to
conquer or die.
Some one in the
crowd cries out, "For the Governor's House." This was received with a
shout, and as “Honest John Letcher" had been excessively Union, the crowd
rushed furiously toward the Governor's mansion, and after repeated calls,
Governor Letcher made his appearance, not a little discomposed by the clamor
and confusion of this excited mob. He attempted to speak, but the maddened
populace suspected "Honest John" was still unwilling to come out
boldly for the Confederate cause, and consequently his remarks were unheard,
save by those immediately around him.
Only half appeased were
the dizzy and infatuated mass. Some other excitement was wanted, and the
"Star Spangled Banner" floated, as it were, half timidly upon the
highest point of our State Capitol, and each star seemed to weep as the Demon
of Death stretched forth his mighty wings to begin his sad flight.
"Tear down that
accursed flag," was shouted by the crowd, and immediately some half dozen,
bolder than the rest, rushed quickly into the Capitol, in which the State
Convention was then sitting, hurried up the steps, and in less time than I take
to write this the Star Spangled Banner was torn from its flag-staff, and
supplanted by Virginia's proud motto, "Sic Semper Tyrannis."
Peal after peal of
long continued applause rent the air, seeming to ascend up to the very throne
of Heaven and calling upon God to witness the stern determination of the
Southern people. The few Unionists who still madly clung to the fond hope that
peace would yet be restored, threatened vengeance on the Secessionists for
tearing down the United States flag, and, in fact, it was said that
"Honest John" went so far as to order out the "Public
Guard" to disperse the crowd collected on the Capitol Square.
Well was it for the
"Guard," and also for “Honest John" that such was not the case,
for had they made their appearance, a terrible riot would have been the
inevitable consequence.
Indeed, the times
and the Richmond people remind me much of the run-mad Red Republicanism of
France, for never were a people so enthusiastically mad as now. However, any
nation to be successful, must first be baptized in the blood of its own
citizens, and now we are to have this theory brought practically into effect.
Nightfall, instead
of quieting the excitement, seemed if possible to add fresh fuel to the flame.
The crowded streets and wild shouts of the people, together with the lurid
glare of an hundred tar-barrels, torches steeped in rosin, and rockets whirling
high above the houses, presented a spectacle rarely witnessed by our somewhat
apathetic people of Richmond.
Already the work of
Revolution has commenced. Far away on the coast of South Carolina the smoke and
din of battle has awakened the people of Virginia, who too long have
slumbered when work should have been done, to the consciousness that the war
cloud, with all its pent up fury, is now bursting upon them. The question now
most agitating the public mind is—“What will be the action of
the Virginia Convention, now sitting in the State-House, and elected
as it was by such an overwhelming Union majority?"
They cannot
withstand this outside pressure brought to bear upon them, and must either
remove to some other point in the State or pass the Ordinance of Secession at
an early date, and then leave it to the people whether or not we will cast our
lot with our sister Southern States. My mind is fully made up to join the
Southern army no matter whether Virginia secedes or not, though from
the time I can remember I have bitterly opposed the doctrine of secession.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or
What I Saw of It, p. 89-91
