volunteers belonged to the army over whom there was very little, if
any control. So General Ruffin may have been at Fort Johnston while
his company was at Cummings Point. However, little interest is
attached to this incident after the lapse of so many years.

Perhaps never in the history of a State was there such a frenzy of
excitement--not even in the days of Indian insurrections or the raids
of the bloody Tarleton--as when the news flashed over the country that
Sumter was being bombarded, and a call was made for all the volunteers
to assemble in Charleston. There were not the facilities in those days
as now for the spreading of news, there being but few telegraph lines
in the State. Notwithstanding this, every method possible was put into
practice for gathering in the troops. There were no assemblages
of troops outside of Charleston. Men were following their daily
vocations. Extra trains were put in motion; couriers dashed with
rapid speed across the country. Private means, as well as public, were
resorted to to arouse the men and bring them to the front. Officers
warned the private, and he in turn rode with all the speed his horse,
loosed from the plow, could command, to arouse his comrades. It was
on Saturday when word was first sent out, but it was late the next
day (Sunday) before men in the remote rural districts received the
stirring notice. Men left their plows standing in the field, not to
return under four years, and many of them never. Carpenters came down
from the unfinished roof, or left their bench with work half finished.
The student who had left his school on the Friday before never recited
his Monday's lesson. The country doctor left his patients to the care
of the good housewife. Many people had gone to church and in places
the bells were still tolling, calling the worshippers together to
listen to the good and faithful teachings of the Bible, but the sermon
was never delivered or listened to. Hasty preparations were made