The Worst Fear inten­si­fied on April 13 as Fort Sumter faced relent­less Con­fed­er­ate bom­bard­ment, with each vol­ley becom­ing more pre­cise and dev­as­tat­ing. Cap­tain Fos­ter, the chief engi­neer, observed the wors­en­ing sit­u­a­tion and record­ed it in his engi­neer­ing jour­nal, describ­ing how Con­fed­er­ate artillery had begun using “hot shot,” incen­di­ary can­non­balls designed to ignite struc­tures inside the fort. The Union sol­diers inside the fort ini­tial­ly believed they could main­tain their defens­es, but as the bom­bard­ment con­tin­ued, their sit­u­a­tion became increas­ing­ly dire. One par­tic­u­lar­ly well-aimed shell struck a ground-lev­el embra­sure, injur­ing four sol­diers and height­en­ing the urgency to con­tain the fire that was spread­ing through the wood­en bar­racks. The true dan­ger lay in the pow­der mag­a­zine, where thou­sands of pounds of gun­pow­der were stored—if ignit­ed, the result­ing explo­sion could com­plete­ly destroy the fort and kill every­one inside. Cap­tain Fos­ter imme­di­ate­ly warned Major Ander­son of the immi­nent risk, urg­ing him to take imme­di­ate action before the fire reached the crit­i­cal stores of ammu­ni­tion.

Despite the cri­sis inside the fort, a very dif­fer­ent scene was unfold­ing across the har­bor on Mor­ris Island, where Con­fed­er­ate Assis­tant Sur­geon Park­er was enjoy­ing a moment of peace. As the bat­tle raged in the dis­tance, Park­er and his fel­low offi­cers sat down to a relaxed break­fast, momen­tar­i­ly detached from the car­nage that was unfold­ing. Their morn­ing was inter­rupt­ed by sud­den cheers from the beach, draw­ing their atten­tion to the sky over Fort Sumter, where thick plumes of smoke had begun to rise. The Union fort had caught fire, and the flames were quick­ly spread­ing, fueled by the wood­en struc­tures inside. Con­fed­er­ate sol­diers on Mor­ris Island erupt­ed in excite­ment, believ­ing the destruc­tion of the fort was immi­nent and that the Union defend­ers would soon be forced to sur­ren­der. For them, it was a moment of tri­umph, rein­forc­ing their belief that their bom­bard­ment had been suc­cess­ful in forc­ing the ene­my into sub­mis­sion.

As the fire with­in Fort Sumter spread, Cap­tain Dou­ble­day real­ized the imme­di­ate and grow­ing dan­ger to the pow­der mag­a­zine and took swift action to mit­i­gate the threat. He ordered his men to begin remov­ing bar­rels of gun­pow­der from stor­age, haul­ing them out under increas­ing­ly haz­ardous con­di­tions. Sol­diers worked fran­ti­cal­ly, dodg­ing incom­ing artillery shells and bat­tling the intense heat that made it dif­fi­cult to breathe. Thick, acrid smoke filled the air, mak­ing it almost impos­si­ble to see as the men stum­bled through the fort’s burn­ing cor­ri­dors. The walls of the fort, once believed to be impen­e­tra­ble, were now vul­ner­a­ble to col­lapse under the intense heat and con­tin­u­ous shelling. Despite their des­per­ate efforts, it became clear that con­tain­ing the fire was near­ly impos­si­ble, and the risk of an uncon­trolled explo­sion remained dan­ger­ous­ly high.

The scene out­side the fort was just as chaot­ic, with Charleston civil­ians gath­er­ing along the Bat­tery to watch the unfold­ing spec­ta­cle. Many had come expect­ing a moment of vic­to­ry, cel­e­brat­ing as they saw the flames engulf­ing the once-for­mi­da­ble Union strong­hold. Some laughed and cheered, while oth­ers, even among the Con­fed­er­ate sup­port­ers, appeared shocked by the sheer scale of the destruc­tion. Mean­while, Con­fed­er­ate artillery on Mor­ris Island did not let up, con­tin­u­ing to ham­mer the fort with unre­lent­ing fire. The men inside Fort Sumter, now chok­ing on smoke and exhaust­ed from the fight, strug­gled to main­tain their defens­es. The walls, bat­tered by artillery and weak­ened by the fire, began to show signs of struc­tur­al fail­ure, adding to the grow­ing list of prob­lems for Ander­son and his men.

Then, at pre­cise­ly 12:48 PM, a Con­fed­er­ate can­non­ball found its mark and struck the flag­pole of Fort Sumter. The impact sent the Amer­i­can flag tum­bling down, a moment that imme­di­ate­ly elec­tri­fied the Con­fed­er­ate ranks and was met with loud cheers from Charleston to Mor­ris Island. For the South­ern troops, this was a sym­bol­ic vic­to­ry, proof that they had suc­cess­ful­ly defied the Union’s author­i­ty and tak­en con­trol of the con­flict. With­in Fort Sumter, how­ev­er, the fall­en flag was a crush­ing blow, not only to morale but also to the mes­sage they had hoped to send by resist­ing for as long as pos­si­ble. Major Ander­son and his men, despite their defi­ant spir­it, under­stood that their posi­tion was becom­ing increas­ing­ly unten­able. With fire rag­ing, walls crum­bling, and ammu­ni­tion sup­plies at con­stant risk of det­o­na­tion, the defend­ers of Fort Sumter braced them­selves for the inevitable next phase of the con­flict. The bat­tle for the fort had reached its most dan­ger­ous moment, and the worst fears of its defend­ers had now become real­i­ty.