imminent in the extreme. At this juncture of affairs, the brave soldier gave us an illustration of his forethought and sagacity. One sunny morning, crowds of anxious people fringed the wharves of Charleston, watching the mysterious curls of smoke that rose lazily from the ramparts of Fort Moultrie, and floated off seaward-smoke from the burning gun-carriages. On the night previous, Major Anderson had quietly removed his men and stores to Fort Sumter, the strongest of the Charleston fortifications, and the key of its defences. The deserted guns of Moultrie were spiked, and the carriages burned to cinders. The evacuation of the fort commenced a little after sunset. The men were ordered to hold themselves in readiness, with their knapsacks packed, at a second's notice; but up to the moment of their leaving they had no idea of abandoning the post. They were reviewed on parade, and then ordered to two schooners lying in the vicinity. The garrison flag unwound itself to the morning over Sumter. The rage of the South at this unexpected strategic manoeuvre, was equalled in its intenseness only by the thrill of joy which ran through the North. Major Anderson and his command were safe, for the time being, and treason disconcerted. "Major Robert Anderson," says the Charleston Courier, bitterly, "has achieved the unenviable distinction of opening civil war between American citizens, by an act of gross breach of faith." The sequel proved his prudence. Having all the forts of the harbor under his charge, he had, necessarily, the right to occupy whatever post he deemed expedient. He did his duty, and he did it well. His course was sustained in the House of Representatives, January 7th, 1861. Before the first burst of indignation had subsided, Fort Moultrie was taken possession of by the South Carolinians, and carefully put into a state of defence. The rebel convention ordered immense fortifications to be built in and about Charleston harbor, to resist any reinforcements that might be sent to Major Anderson. Strong redoubts were thrown up on Morris' and James' Islands, and Forts Moultrie, Johnson, and Castle Pinckney, stood ready to belch flame and iron on the devoted little garrison. Sumter was invested: no ship could approach the place in the teeth of those sullen batteries. On the 8th of April, information having been given by the United States government to the authorities of Charleston, that they desired to send supplies to Fort Sumter on an unarmed transport, they were informed that the vessel would be fired upon and not allowed to enter the port. The United States government then officially advised the insurgents that supplies would be sent to Major Anderson, peaceably if possible, otherwise by force. Lieutenant Talbot, attached to the garrison of Fort Sumter, and bearer of this dispatch, was not permitted to proceed to his post. of the harbor on the The steamer Star of the West was signalled at the entrance morning of the 9th. She displayed the United States flag, but was fired into, repeatedly, from Morris' Island battery. Her course was then altered, and she again put out to sea. A formidable floating battery, constructed and manned at Charleston, was taken out of dock on the evening of the 10th, and anchored in a cove near Sullivan's Island. About seven thousand troops now crowded the earthworks and forts, under command of General G. T. Beauregard. The report that a fleet lay off the bay, waiting for a favorable tide to enter the harbor and relieve the fort, caused the greatest excitement in Charleston. On the afternoon of April 11th, Colonel Chestnut and Major Lee, aids to General Beauregard, conveyed to Fort Sumter the demand that Major Anderson should evacuate that fort. Major Anderson refused to accede to the demand. On being waited on by a second deputation (April 12, 1 A. M.), desiring him to state what time he would evacuate, and to stipulate not to fire upon the batteries in the mean time, Major Anderson replied that he would evacuate at the noon of the 15th, if not previously otherwise ordered, or not supplied, and that he would not in the meanwhile open his fire unless compelled by some hostile act against his fort or the flag of his government. At 3.30 A. M., the officers who received this answer notified Major Anderson that the batteries under command of General Beauregard, would open on Fort Sumter in one hour, and immediately left. The sentinels on Sumter were then ordered in from the parapets, the posterns closed, and the men directed not to leave the bomb-proofs until summoned by the drum. The garrison had but two days' rations. At 4.30 Friday morning, fire was opened upon Fort Sumter from Fort Moultrie, and soon after from the batteries on Mount Pleasant and Cummings' Point, then from an unsuspected masked battery of heavy columbiads on Sullivan's Island. It soon became evident that no part of the beleagured fort was without the range of the enemy's guns. A rim of scarlet fire encircled it. Meanwhile the undaunted little band of seventy true men, took breakfast quietly at the regular hour, reserving their fire until 7 A. M., when they opened their lower tier of guns upon Fort Moultrie, the iron battery on Cummings' Point, the two works on Sullivan's Island, and the floating battery, simultaneously. When the first relief went to work, the enthusiasm of the men was so great that the second and third reliefs could not be kept from the guns. The rebel iron battery was of immense strength, and our balls glanced from it like hail-stones. Fort Moultrie, however, stood the cannonading badly, a great many of our shells taking effect in the embrasures. Shells from every point burst against the various walls of Sumter, and the fire upon the parapet became so terrific that Major Anderson refused to allow the men to work the barbette guns. There were no cartridge bags, and the men were set to making them out of shirts. Fire broke out in the barracks three times, and was extinguished. Meals were served at the guns. At 6 P. M. the fire from Sumter ceased. Fire was kept up by the enemy during the night, at intervals of twenty-five minutes. At daybreak the following morning the bombardment recommenced. Fort Sumter resumed operations at 7 A. M. An hour afterward the officers' quarters took fire from a shell, and it was necessary to detach nearly all the men from the guns to stop the conflagration. Shells from Moultrie and Morris' Island now fell faster than ever. The effect of the enemy's shot, on the officers' quarters in particular, was terrible. One tower was so completely demolished that not one brick was left standing upon another. The main gates were blown away, and the walls considerably weakened. Fearful that they might crack, and a shell pierce the magazine, ninety-six barrels of powder were emptied into the sea; finally the magazine had to be closed; the material for cartridges was exhausted, and the garrison was left destitute of any means to continue the contest. The men had eaten the last biscuit thirty-six hours before. They were nearly stifled by the dense, livid smoke from the burning buildings, lying prostrate on the ground. with wet handkerchiefs over their mouths and eyes. The crashing of the shot, the bursting of the shells, the falling of the masonry, and the mad roaring of the flames, made a pandemonium of the place. Strangely enough, but four men had been injured, thus far, and those only slightly. Toward the close of the day, ex-Senator Wigfall suddenly made his appearance at an embrasure with a white handkerchief on the point of a sword, and begged to see Major Anderson, asserting that he came from General Beauregard. "Well, sir!" said Major Anderson, confronting him. General Wigfall, in an excited manner, then demanded to know on what terms Major Anderson would evacuate the position. The major informed him that General Beauregard was already advised of the terms. "Then, sir," said Wigfall, "the fort is ours." "On those conditions," replied Major Anderson. During this interview the firing from Moultrie and Sullivan's Island had not ceased, though General Wigfall timidly displayed a white flag at an embrasure facing the batteries. Wigfall retired. A short time afterward a deputation, consisting of Senator Chestnut, Roger A. Pryor, and two others, came from General Beauregard, and had an interview with Major Anderson: it then turned out that the officious Wigfall had "acted on his own hook," without any authority whatever from his commanding general. After a protracted consultation and a second deputation, Major Anderson agreed to evacuate Fort Sumter the next day. That night the garrison took what rest it could. chored near the fort to receive the gallant little band. This was Saturday evening. were that the garrison should take all its individual and company property; that they should march out with their side and other arms with all the honors, in their own way, and at their own time; that they should salute their flag and take it with them. With their tattered flag flying, and the band playing national airs, these seventy heroes marched out of Fort Sumter. Seventy to seven thousand! Major Anderson's heroic conduct had drawn all loyal hearts toward him, and it was the wish of the country that he should immediately be invested with some important command. He was made a brigadier-general, and sent to Kentucky to superintend the raising of troops in that state. But the terrible ordeal through which he had just passed, and the results of hardships undergone in Mexico, unfitted him for active duty. Since then, General Anderson has resided in New York City. A tall, elderly gentleman in undress uniform, leading a little child by the hand, is often seen passing slowly along Broadway. His fine, intellectual face is the index to the genuine goodness and nobility of his heart. Though men of noisier name meet you at each corner, your eyes follow pleasantly after this one -Robert Anderson. T THEODORE WINTHROP. HEODORE WINTHROP, who fell in the battle of Great Bethel, Virginia, June 10th, 1861, was born in New Haven, Connecticut, September 21st, 1828. He was a lineal descendant of the first John Winthrop, who in 1630 led out from England one of the noblest of the many Puritan colonies, and became himself governor of the commonwealth of Massachusetts. In the next genera tion we find the second John Winthrop joining the Connecticut colony, soon raised to its chief magistracy, and in 1665 procuring for her from the crown that charter of privileges which became the herald and nurse of her future independence, and which, in 1688, she held against the threats and baits of the throne and its royal representative. Thus Winthrop died to maintain the rights now and ever supported by his ancestors. It was then the colony against the founder. It is now the country against the state. The one was a protest of a mature daughter against a false and cruel mother: the other is a protest of the head and heart and soul against the hand or foot which would be separated from the nourishing body of which it is a living member. Later still the family furnished yet another governor, and have in every succeeding generation shared her protection and dignities. Major Winthrop's father was Francis Bayard Winthrop, a gentleman of wealth and education, who was graduated from Yale College in 1804, and died at his residence in New Haven in 1841. His mother is a grand-daughter of President Dwight, and a sister of President Wolsey-the latter almost a synonym for scholarship, manners, and a Christianized Roman virtue. Thus Winthrop's very name is pervaded with New England virtues and memories-an aristocratic name, if one can bring himself to utter a term so fraught with meanness, pride, and tyranny, so hateful to a Christian republican; for, in spite of all levelling, social theories, blood is character. The Edwardses, the Dwights, the Wolseys, and the Winthrops, did meet in the antecedent blood of Theodore Winthrop, the soldier, and went to mould and inspire the future hero. each the resultant of past forces; and not only the looks and tones, the habits and traits of our fathers, but their spirit, their sentiment, and their "faith unfeigned," leave their invisible, silent deposits in our veins. As a boy, Major Winthrop is described as fair and pale in feature, but not |