sentence:

"Strike the first armed blow in defense of Southern rights and within
one hour by Shrewsbury clock, old Virginia will stand, her battle flags
flying, by your side!"

On the morning of the 11th General Beauregard sent Pryor as a special
messenger to Major Anderson demanding the surrender of Fort Sumter, and
on his refusal, which was a matter of course, instructed him to go at
once to the nearest battery and order its Commander to open fire.

The formalities at Sumter quickly ended, Pryor repaired to Battery
Johnson, met the young Captain of artillery in command and presented his
order.

With a shout the Captain threw his arms around the messenger and with
streaming eyes cried:

"Your wonderful speech last night made this glorious thing possible! You
shall have the immortal honor of firing the first gun!"

And then a strange revulsion of fooling--or was it a flash of foreboding
from the hell-lit, battle-scorched future! The orator hesitated and
turned pale. It was an honor he could not now decline and yet he
instinctively shrank from it.

He mopped the perspiration from his brow and looked about in a helpless
way. His eye suddenly rested on a grey-haired, stalwart sentinel passing
with quick firm tread. He recognized him immediately as a distinguished
fellow Virginian, a man of large wealth and uncompromising opinions on
Southern rights.

When Virginia had refused to secede, he cursed his countrymen as a set
of hesitating cowards, left the State and moved to South Carolina. He
had volunteered among the first and carried a musket as a private
soldier in spite of his snow-white hairs.

Pryor turned to the Commandant:

"I appreciate, sir, the honor you would do me, but I could not think of
taking it from one more worthy than myself. There is the man whose
devotion to our cause is greater than mine."

He introduced Edmund Ruffin and gave a brief outline of his career. The
boyish Commandant faced him:

"Will you accept the honor of firing the first shot, sir?"

The square jaw closed with a snap:

"By God, I will!"

The old man seized the lanyard and waited for the Captain and messenger
to reach the front to witness the effect of the shot.

They had scarcely cleared the enclosure when the first gun of actual
civil war thundered its fateful message across the still waters of the
beautiful Southern harbor.

They watched the great screaming shell rise into the sky, curve downward
and burst with su