The little household now began its preparations to start north as soon as possible, and Sylvia was eager for the time to come that would see them safely on their way to their northern home.  Grace Waite and her mother had gone into the country, and Sylvia did not know if she would see her friend again.

The morning of April 11, 1861, dawned brightly over the harbor of Charleston, whose waters were covered with white sails putting hastily to sea.  Guard-boats were plying constantly between the harbor and the islands.  It was rumored about the town that before sunset the Confederate batteries would open fire upon Fort Sumter.

Mr. Fulton’s preparations to leave Charleston were completed, and if nothing prevented they would start for Boston on April 14th.  On the eleventh, however, Mrs. Carleton hardly left the window from which she could look out over the harbor toward Fort Sumter.  At any moment it might be attacked, and she knew that such an attack meant the beginning of a terrible civil war.

Sylvia wandered about the house and garden with Estralla, telling the little colored girl of the home in Boston which she soon hoped to see.

The hours passed, and the streets of Charleston grew strangely quiet.  At sunset everything was calm, and no sound of guns disturbed the peace of the April evening, and Sylvia went to bed at the usual hour, not thinking that she would be wakened by the roar of cannon.  The older members of the family sat up until after midnight.  The sea was calm, and the night still under the bright starlight.  At last they decided to retire, but there was little sleep for them that night.

At half-past four the next morning the sound of guns from Fort Johnson broke upon the stillness.  It was the signal to the Confederate batteries to open fire.

Hardly had the echo of the opening gun died upon the air when every Confederate fort and battery opened fire upon Sumter, until the fort was “surrounded by a circle of fire.”

The Fulton household dressed hurriedly and from the windows looked over the harbor at the flashing lights and bursts of flame.  Sylvia stood close beside Mrs. Carleton, and they were all silent.

Aunt Connie brought up hot coffee and a tray of food, but none of them cared to eat.  Mr. Fulton waited anxiously for the sound of answering guns from Fort Sumter.  But not until seven o’clock that morning did Fort Sumter open its fire.

“War has begun,” said Mr. Fulton gravely, turning away from the window.

“Will the President’s ships come soon, Father?” asked Sylvia.

“We must hope so,” he answered; “and now there is no time for us to lose.  We must start at once.”

“Bres’ de Lord!” said Aunt Connie, who was standing near the door, and as Mr. Fulton spoke she hurried off to her cabin to make her final preparations for the long journey.

Mrs. Fulton hastened to pack up the few things they would take with them, and Sylvia helped Mrs. Carleton pack.  Early in the fore-noon they were ready.  Mr. Robert Waite’s carriage was at the door, with Mr. Waite, who had come to escort them on the first stage of their journey.