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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 16 (search)
nsign was attached to the cord, and Major Anderson, holding the end of the lines in his hand, knelt reverently down. The officers, soldiers, and men clustered around, many of them on their knees, all deeply impressed with the solemnity of the scene. The chaplain made an earnest prayer — such an appeal for support, encouragement and mercy as one would make who felt that man's extremity is God's opportunity. As the earnest, solemn words of the speaker ceased, and the men responded Amen with a fervency that perhaps they had never before experienced, Major Anderson drew the Star-spangled Banner up to the top of the staff, the band broke out with the national air of Hall, Columbia and loud and exultant cheers, repeated again and again, were given by the officers, soldiers, and workmen. If, said the narrator, South Carolina had at that moment attacked the fort, there would have been no hesitation upon the part of any man within it about defending the flag. --Baltimore American, Jan. 9.
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 350 (search)
A thousand guns were flashing fire, a thousand whistling balls Were falling in hot showers upon Fort Sumter's blackened walls. They fought, “the Saucy Seventy,” like brave men, long and well, With wondrous skill and fortitude they dodged the hurtling shell; Undauntedly they blazed away, with not a single crumb Of dinner to console them — not one cheering drop of rum; When, seeing 'twas impossible to fast and fight much more, They strike their flag, and Foster falls — perspiring at each pore! Hall waves his gleaming sword, looks proud defiance at his foes, Then sinks exhausted, bleeding most profusely — at his nose; And Doubleday, his longing eye fixed on the distant ships, Collapses, with “My stomach! oh, my stomach!” on his lips. Canto III. A telegram is flying North, 'tis pithy, sharp and curt-- “Fort Sumter's taken — tell Old Abe that no-bod-y is hurt.” A panic strikes the Cabinet, they wriggle in their chairs; Seward mutters “curses deep, not loud” --Welles trie