Chapter XIV: Introduction (9)

Pickens, the new governor of South Carolina, December 17th, the day after his inauguration, and before the state had passed the ordinance of secession, made a demand on the President for the delivery of Fort Sumter. The letter, drawn in the most offensive terms, and marked “strictly confidential,” urged that all work be stopped and that no more troops be ordered. It continued: “It is not improbable that, under orders from the commandant, or, perhaps, from the commander-in-chief of the army, the alteration and defences of the posts are progressing without the knowledge of yourself or the Secretary of War. The arsenal in the city of Charleston, with the public arms, I am informed, was turned over very properly to the keeping and defence of the state force at the urgent request of the Governor of South Carolina. I would most respectfully, and from a sincere devotion to the public peace, request that you would allow me to send a small force, not exceeding twenty-five men and an officer, to take possession of Fort Sumter immediately, in order to give a feeling of safety to the community.”[161]

The ever-ready Trescot arranged an interview December 20th with the President for the delivery of the letter. The President stated that he would give an answer the next day. In the mean time Trescot, seeing the difficulties to which it led, consulted both Senators Davis and Slidell, who thought the demand “could do nothing but mischief”; and on consultation with two of the South Carolina delegation in Washington, Governor Pickens was advised by telegraph to withdraw the letter, which was done. Trescot’s letter to Governor Pickens, returning that of the latter, after mentioning all that had been done by the executive to refrain from injuring the sensibilities of South Carolina, said: The President’s “course had been violently denounced by the Northern press, and an effort was being made to institute a Congressional investigation. At that moment he could not have gone to the extent of action you desired, and I felt confident that, if forced to answer your letter then, he would have taken such ground as would have prevented his even approaching it hereafter; ... you had all the advantage of knowing the truth, without the disadvantage of having it put on record.... I was also perfectly satisfied that the status of the garrison would not be disturbed.... I have had this morning an interview with Governor Floyd, the Secretary of War; ... while I cannot even here venture into details, which are too confidential to be risked in any way, I am prepared to say ... that nothing will be done which will either do you injury or properly create alarm.”[162]

The President’s painful weakness is but too clear in the fact that he had not only given his confidence so largely to such a man, whose position and attitude he knew, but saw nothing derogatory in such a letter as that of Governor Pickens, and could draft a reply (December 20th) in which, while stating that no authority had been given to Governor Gist to guard the Charleston arsenal, he said: “I deeply regret to observe that you seem entirely to have misapprehended my position, which I supposed had been clearly stated in my message. I have incurred, and shall incur, any reasonable risk ... to prevent a collision.... Hence I have declined for the present to reinforce these forts, relying upon the honor of the South-Carolinians that they will not be assaulted whilst they remain in their present condition; but that commissioners will be sent by the convention _to treat with Congress_ on the subject.”[163]

December 18th the President sent Caleb Cushing with a letter to Governor Pickens, with the idea of inducing the authorities and people of South Carolina to await the action of Congress and the development of opinion in the North as to the recommendation of his message. Governor Pickens told Cushing, December 20th, the day of the passage of the ordinance of secession, that he would make no reply to the letter, and stated “very candidly that there was no hope for the Union, and that, as far as he was concerned, he intended to maintain the separate independence of South Carolina.”[164]

III

THE FORT SUMTER CRISIS (DEC. 2, 1860–JAN. 8, 1861)

The question of the United States forts was now uppermost, and upon the action regarding them hung war or peace. Three commissioners--Robert W. Barnwell, James H. Adams, and James L. Orr--were appointed by South Carolina to lay the ordinance of secession before the President and Congress, and were empowered as agents of the state to treat for the delivery of the forts and other real estate, for the apportionment of the public debt, and for a division of all the property of the United States.[165]

In apprehension of the occupation of Sumter by Anderson, a patrol by two small steamers, the _Nina_ and _General Clinch_, was established, with orders to prevent such action at all hazards and seize Fort Sumter if it should be attempted. A Lieutenant-Colonel Green was sent to Fort Monroe to observe any movements; and one Norris, at Norfolk, was employed to give information of any action at the Norfolk navy-yard. A committee of prominent men was sent to Fort Sumter, who thoroughly inspected the works and reported upon them.

Meantime, Major Anderson had been preparing, with great caution and foresight, to move his command. For some ten days the officers had been apprised that it was advisable to send the families of the men to the unoccupied barracks on James’ Island, known as Fort Johnson, a mile and a quarter west of Sumter. The work of mounting guns at Sumter had been discontinued for three days, and the elevating-screws and pintle-bolts sent to Moultrie so that the guns should not be used if the South-Carolinians should anticipate his action, and also to give the impression that occupancy of the fort was not designed. All stores and provisions at Fort Moultrie which could be carried, and personal belongings, except what the men could carry in their knapsacks, were loaded as for Fort Johnson in the two small sailing-vessels which were to carry the women and children.

Christmas Day had been fixed for the transfer, but heavy rains prevented. The delay might have had other consequences, for, curiously enough, on the morning of December 26th, Colonel R. B. Rhett, Jr., waited upon the governor, with a private warning letter from Washington to the effect that Anderson was about to seize Sumter, and urged the governor to secure it.[166]

All was made ready on December 26th, and the quartermaster who was to have charge of the little flotilla, loaded with “everything in the household line from boxes and barrels of provisions to cages of canary-birds,” was directed to go to Fort Johnson, but not to land anything. Upon a signal of two guns from Moultrie he was to go to Sumter on the plea that he had to report to Anderson that he could not find accommodations. Five pulling-boats in customary use were available for the transportation of the men. Only one officer had been thus far informed, and the men had no suspicion where they were to go when they fell in at retreat roll-call with packed knapsacks and filled cartridge-boxes, carried at parade under a general standing order. So little was the movement suspected that Captain Doubleday, second in command, came at sunset to Anderson in the midst of the officers to invite the major to tea. He was then informed of Anderson’s intentions, and was directed to have his company in readiness in twenty minutes, an order met by an “eager obedience.” Part of this time was taken in arranging for the safety of Mrs. Doubleday in the village outside of the fort, whither the families of the other officers were also sent. The men were ready promptly, and the first detachment of twenty, led by Anderson himself, marched over the quarter of a mile of sand to the landing-place with the good-fortune of encountering, no one.

Anderson went in the leading boat. Lieutenant Meade, the engineer in charge of the works at Castle Pinckney, had charge of the second, and Captain Doubleday of the third. When half-way across, Doubleday’s boat came unexpectedly in the path of one of the patrol boats, the _General Clinch_, which was towing a schooner to sea. The men were ordered to take off their coats and cover their muskets. The steamer stopped, but in the twilight, and with the resemblance of the boat and its load of men to the usual parties of workmen, suspicion was not aroused, and the steamer resumed her way without questioning. She had been anxiously watched from Moultrie, and had she interfered would have been fired upon by a thirty-two-pounder, two of which had been loaded with that intent. Captain Foster, with Assistant Surgeon Crawford, a Mr. Moall, four non-commissioned officers, and seven privates, had been left at Moultrie to spike the guns, burn the gun-carriages, and hew down the flag-staff.[167]

On reaching Sumter, the workmen, some hundred and fifty, swarmed to the wharf, some feebly cheering, many angrily demanding the reason for the presence of the soldiers; many of the workmen wore the secession cockade; the malecontents (a number of whom shortly returned to Charleston) quickly gave way before the bayonets of Doubleday’s men, who at once occupied the main entrance and guard-room; sentries were posted and the fort was under military control. Boats were now sent back for Captain Seymour’s company, which arrived without interference, and the whole force, except the few detailed to remain at Moultrie, was in Sumter before eight o’clock, at which hour Anderson wrote the Adjutant-General, reporting that he had “just completed, by the blessing of God, the removal to this fort of all my garrison.... The step which I have taken was, in my opinion, necessary to prevent the effusion of blood.”[168] On the firing of the signal-guns at Moultrie, Lieutenant Hall left the west side of the bay with the two lighters carrying the men’s families and stores, and reached Sumter under sail.

With the help of the engineer’s workmen at Moultrie, the boats were loaded during the night with part of the impedimenta of every sort which had to be left in the first crossing, and reached Sumter in the early dawn. The following day, December 27th, was passed like the preceding night, in transferring ammunition and other stores to Sumter; but a month and a half’s supply of provisions, some fuel, and personal effects had to be left. All the guns at Moultrie were spiked, and the carriages of those bearing on Sumter burned, the smoke from these bearing to Charleston the first indication of what had happened. At fifteen minutes before noon the command and one hundred and fifty workmen were formed in a square near the flag-staff of Sumter; the chaplain offered a prayer expressing gratitude for their safe arrival, and prayed that the flag might never be dishonored, but soon float again over the whole country, a peaceful and prosperous nation. “When the prayer was finished, Major Anderson, who had been kneeling, arose, the battalion presented arms, the band played the national air, and the flag went to the head of the flag-staff, amid the loud and earnest huzzas of the command.”[169]

Intense excitement in Charleston was the natural outcome of Anderson’s action, and the morning of the 27th the governor sent his aide-de-camp, Colonel Pettigrew, accompanied by Major Capers, with a peremptory demand that Anderson should return with his garrison to Moultrie, to which Anderson replied, “Make my compliments to the governor and say to him that I decline to accede to his request; I cannot and will not go back.” The governor’s messenger mentioned that when Governor Pickens came into office he found an understanding between his predecessor (Gist) and the President, by which the status in the harbor was to remain unchanged. Anderson stated “that he knew nothing of it; that he could get no information or positive orders from Washington; ... that he had reason to believe that [the state troops] meant to land and attack him from the north; that the desire of the governor to have the matter settled peaceably and without bloodshed was precisely his own object in transferring his command; ... that he did it upon his own responsibility alone,” as safety required it, “and as he had the right to do.” He added that, “In this controversy between the North and the South, my sympathies are entirely with the South,” but that a sense of duty to his trust was first.[170] The immediate result was the occupancy by the state forces, December 27th, of Pinckney and Moultrie; the seizure, December 30th, of the unoccupied barracks known as Fort Johnson, and of the arsenal, with its ordnance and ordnance stores, valued at four hundred thousand dollars.

The news of Anderson’s dramatic, bold, and self-reliant act, one for which the country owes a debt to the memory of this upright and excellent commander, brought consternation to the President and Secretary of War, who learned it through the indefatigable Trescot, who had, on the 26th, arranged for the three commissioners of South Carolina an interview with the President for December 27th, at one o’clock. The news of the morning brought a complete change of circumstances. A telegram to Wigfall was brought by him to the commissioners and to the Secretary of War, who at once went to the commissioners. Trescot was present, and could not believe in an “act not only without orders but in the face of orders.” Floyd at once telegraphed, asking an explanation of the report. “It is not believed, because there is no order for any such movement.” A telegram in reply from Anderson assured him of the truth, and a written report gave as reasons that “many things convinced me that the authorities of the state designed to proceed to a hostile act. Under this impression I could not hesitate that it was my solemn duty to move my command from a fort which we could not have held probably longer than forty-eight or sixty hours to this one where my power of resistance is increased to a very great degree.”[171]

[In January a futile attempt to relieve Fort Sumter was made by sending from New York two hundred troops in an unarmed steamer, _The Star of the West_, which was fired upon by the secessionists in Fort Moultrie, and, receiving no support from Fort Sumter, returned to New York.]

IV

THE FALL OF FORT SUMTER (APRIL, 1861)

Lamon’s[172] officiousness resulted in giving both to Anderson and to the Confederate authorities an impression that Sumter would surely be evacuated; hence Beauregard, March 26th, wrote to Anderson offering facilities for removal, but asking his word of honor that the fort would be left without any preparation for its destruction or injury. This demand deeply wounded Anderson, and he resented it in a letter of the same date, saying, “If I can only be permitted to leave on the pledge you mention, I shall never, so help me God, leave this fort alive.”[173] Beauregard hastened to state that he had only alluded to the “pledge” on account of the “high source” from which the rumors appeared to come, and made a full amend, which re-established their usual relations.

Anderson had informed Fox that, by placing the command on a short allowance, he could make the provisions last until after April 10th; but not receiving instructions from the War Department that it was desirable to do so, it had not been done.[174] He had already reported, March 31st, that his last barrel of flour had been issued two days before.[175]

Anderson’s little command, as he explained to Washington April 1st, would now face starvation should the daily supply of fresh meat and vegetables, still allowed from Charleston, be cut off. Being in daily expectation, since the return of Colonel Lamon to Washington, of receiving orders to vacate the post, he had, to the great disadvantage of the food supply, kept the engineer laborers as long as he could. He now asked permission to send them from Sumter; but the request, referred to Montgomery April 2d by Beauregard, was refused, unless all the garrison should go.[176]

April 1st an ice-laden schooner bound for Savannah entered Charleston harbor by mistake, and was fired upon by a Morris Island battery. Again the Sumter batteries were manned and a consultation held, at which five of the eight officers declared in favor of opening fire, but no action was taken by Anderson beyond sending an officer to the offending battery, from which word was returned by its commanding officer that he was simply carrying out his orders to fire upon any vessel carrying the United States colors which attempted to enter.

On April 4th Anderson assembled his officers, and for the first time made known to them the orders of January 10th and February 23d, directing him to act strictly on the defensive. As Lieutenant Talbot had just been promoted captain and ordered to Washington, Anderson determined to send by him his despatches. In order to arrange for his departure, Talbot, April 4th, accompanied Lieutenant Snyder, under a white flag, to call the attention of the governor to the fact that the schooner fired upon had not been warned by one of their own vessels, as had been arranged. It developed that the guard-vessel on duty had come in on account of heavy weather, and the commanding officer was consequently dismissed. The request to allow Talbot to proceed brought out the fact that orders had been received from Montgomery not to allow any portion of the garrison to leave the fort unless all should go[177]--which, however, Beauregard construed, for the benefit of Talbot, to apply more particularly to laborers and enlisted men[178]--and also that the following telegram from Commissioner Crawford had reached Charleston April 1st: “I am authorized to say that this government will not undertake to supply Sumter without notice to you. My opinion is that the President has not the courage to execute the order agreed upon in Cabinet for the evacuation of the fort, but that he intends to shift the responsibility upon Major Anderson by suffering him to be starved out. Would it not be well to aid in this by cutting off all supplies?”[179] Beauregard had, the same day, sent the message to the Confederate Secretary of War, with the remark, “Batteries here ready to open Wednesday or Thursday. What instructions?”

April, 1861]

The knowledge of these telegrams called from Anderson, April 5th, a pathetic despatch to the War Department: “I cannot but think Mr. Crawford has misunderstood what he has heard in Washington, as I cannot think the government could abandon, without instructions and without advice, a command which has tried to do all its duty to our country.” He ended a fervent appeal for this act of justice with, “Unless we receive supplies I shall be compelled to stay here without food or to abandon this post very early next week.”[180] “At this time,” says Doubleday, “the seeming indifference of the politicians to our fate made us feel like orphan children of the Republic, deserted by both the State and Federal administration.”[181]

Two days later Anderson received a letter of April 4th from the Secretary of War, informing him of the government’s purpose to send the Fox expedition, and hoping that he would be able to sustain himself until the 11th or 12th.[182] The same day he was informed by the Confederate authorities that the supply of provisions had been stopped, and late that evening that no mails coming or going would be allowed to pass. The fort was to be “completely isolated.” This action was undoubtedly taken at this moment in consequence of a telegram from Washington sent Magrath April 6th, as follows: “Positively determined not to withdraw Anderson. Supplies go immediately, supported by naval force under Stringham if their landing be resisted.” This telegram, signed “A Friend,” was, as later became known, from James E. Harvey, who was about to go as United States minister to Portugal. It was sent to Montgomery, and had its full effect.[183]

Just before the reception of the information regarding the stoppage of mails, Anderson had posted his acknowledgment of the War Department’s letter of the 4th and a report by Foster to the chief-engineer of the army; both letters were opened by the Confederate authorities, and gave full confirmation of the accuracy of the telegram from “A Friend.” Anderson said that “the resumption of work yesterday (Sunday) at various points on Morris Island, and the vigorous prosecution of it this morning, ... shows that they have either received some news from Washington which has put them on the _qui vive_, or that they have received orders from Montgomery to commence operations here. I fear” that Fox’s attempt “cannot fail to be disastrous to all concerned.... We have not oil enough to keep a light in lanterns for one night. The boats will have therefore to rely at night entirely upon other marks. I ought to have been informed that this expedition was to come. Colonel Lamon’s remark convinced me that the idea merely hinted at to me by Captain Fox would not be carried out. We shall strive to do our duty, though I frankly say that my heart is not in the war which I see is to be thus commenced.”[184]

As shown by despatches which Anderson had no means of sending, and carried north, eight guard-boats and signal-vessels were on duty out far beyond the bar; a fourth gun had been added to the new battery on Sullivan’s Island, which had until the 8th been masked by a house now torn down, and which bore directly upon any boat attempting to land stores on the left bank. There was bread enough to last, using half-rations, until dinner-time Friday (12th). Anderson reported the command in fine spirits. It was evident that a hostile force was expected. The iron-clad floating battery appeared the morning of the 11th at the west end of Sullivan’s Island. Anderson, in ignorance that his own intercepted letter and Harvey’s telegram had given them all they needed to know, said: “Had they been in possession of the information contained in your letter of the 4th instant they could not have made better arrangements than these they have made and are making to thwart the contemplated scheme.”[185]

Chew, who, as mentioned, had been selected as the messenger to carry to Charleston the notice of the President’s intention to attempt to provision Sumter, left Washington Saturday, April 6th, at 6 P.M., in company with Captain Talbot, and reached Charleston forty-eight hours later; finding no action taken against Sumter, he delivered a copy of his memorandum to the governor, who called General Beauregard into the consultation. Captain Talbot’s request to join the garrison at Sumter was referred to Beauregard, and peremptorily refused, Beauregard remarking that the instructions from Montgomery required that no communication whatever should be permitted with Anderson except to convey an order for the evacuation of the fort.[186] The return of the envoys to Washington was much delayed by disarrangement of trains by order of Beauregard, who also held all telegrams from Chew to Lincoln.[187]

Sumter now mounted fifty-nine guns, twenty-seven of the heaviest of which were in barbette (the upper and open tier). In the lowest tier there were also twenty-seven, four of which were forty-two-pounders and the remainder thirty-two’s. The ports of the second (or middle tier), eight feet square, were closed by a three-foot brick wall, laid in cement and backed in twenty-seven of the more exposed by two feet of sand kept in place by planks or barrels. On the parade were one 10-inch and four 8-inch guns, mounted as howitzers, the former to throw shells into Charleston, the latter into the batteries on Cummings Point. The guns bearing upon the three batteries on the west end of Sullivan’s Island were ten thirty-two-pounders; on Fort Moultrie, two forty-three-pounders. Five guns bore upon the mortar battery at Fort Johnson. Seven hundred cartridges had been made up, material of every kind, even the woollen shirts of the men, being used.[188]

Bearing upon Fort Sumter there were on Sullivan’s Island three 8-inch, two thirty-two-pounders, and six twenty-four-pounders in Fort Moultrie; two thirty-two-pounders and two twenty-four-pounders in the new enfilade battery; one 9-inch, two forty-two-pounders, and two thirty-two-pounders at the Point and aboard the floating battery, and six 10-inch mortars; on Morris Island, two forty-two-pounders, one twelve-pounder Blakely rifle, three 8-inch guns, and seven 10-inch mortars; at Fort Johnson, one twenty-four-pounder and four 10-inch mortars; at Mount Pleasant, one 10-inch mortar: a total of twenty-seven guns and eighteen mortars.[189] The latter were particularly to be feared, as mortar fire under the conditions of a fixed target and perfectly established distances is extremely accurate. The interior of the fort was thus as vulnerable as the exterior.

Governor Pickens at once sent to Montgomery a telegram reporting the visit of the President’s messenger. A lengthy discussion ensued in the Confederate Cabinet. Toombs, the Secretary of State, said: “The firing upon that fort will inaugurate a civil war greater than any the world has yet seen; and I do not feel competent to advise you.”[190] In the state of Southern feeling, however, the only thing possible was for Secretary Walker to order Beauregard, April 10th, “If you have no doubt of the authorized character of the agent who communicated to you the intention of the Washington government to supply Sumter by force, you will at once demand its evacuation, and if this is refused proceed, in such manner as you may determine, to reduce it.”[191] Beauregard answered the same day, “The demand will be made to-morrow at twelve o’clock.” To this came reply from Montgomery, “Unless there are special reasons connected with your own condition, it is considered proper that you should make the demand at an earlier date.” Beauregard replied (all these of the same date, the 10th), “The reasons are special for twelve o’clock.”[192] These imperative “reasons” proved to be shortness of powder, then on its way, and which arrived from Augusta, Georgia, that evening,[193] and the placing of a new rifled twelve-pounder.

Shortly after noon, April 11th, a boat bearing a white flag and three officers, the senior being Colonel James Chesnut, recently a United States senator, pushed off from a Charleston wharf and arrived at Sumter at half-past three. The officers being conducted to Anderson, a demand for the evacuation of the work was delivered. The officers of the fort were summoned, and after an hour’s discussion it was determined, without dissent, to refuse the demand, and a written refusal was sent, in which Anderson regretted that his sense of honor and his obligations to his government prevented his compliance.[194] Anderson accompanied the messengers as far as the main gate, where he asked, “Will General Beauregard open his batteries without further notice to me?” Colonel Chesnut replied, “I think not,” adding, “No, I can say to you that he will not, without giving you further notice.” On this Anderson unwisely remarked that he would be starved out anyway in a few days if Beauregard did not batter him to pieces with his guns. Chesnut asked if he might report this to Beauregard. Anderson declined to give it such character, but said it was the fact.[195]

This information, telegraphed to Montgomery, elicited the reply: “Do not desire needlessly to bombard Fort Sumter. If Major Anderson will state the time at which, as indicated by him, he will evacuate, and agree that in the mean time he will not use his guns against us unless ours should be employed against Sumter, you are authorized thus to avoid the effusion of blood. If this or its equivalent be refused, reduce the fort as your judgment decides to be most practicable.”[196]

A second note from Beauregard was presented that night, and after a conference with his officers of three hours, in which the question of food was the main consideration, Anderson replied, “I will, if provided with proper and necessary means of transportation, evacuate Fort Sumter by noon on the 15th instant ... should I not receive prior to that time controlling instructions from my government or additional supplies.” The terms of the reply were considered by the messengers “manifestly futile,” and at 3.20 A.M. of the 12th the following note was handed by Beauregard’s aides, Chesnut and Lee, to Anderson: “By authority of Brigadier-General Beauregard, commanding the provisional forces of the Confederate States, we have the honor to notify you that he will open the fire of his batteries on Fort Sumter in one hour from this time.”[197]

Meantime Fox, intrusted with the general charge of the relief expedition, was sent by the President, March 30th, to New York, with verbal instructions to prepare for the voyage but to make no binding engagements. Not having received the written authority expected, he returned to Washington April 2d, and on the 4th the final decision was reached, and Fox was informed that a messenger would be sent to the authorities at Charleston to notify them of the President’s action. Fox mentioned to the President that he would have but nine days to charter vessels and reach Charleston, six hundred and thirty-two miles distant. He arrived at New York April 5th, bearing an order from General Scott to Lieutenant-Colonel H. L. Scott (son-in-law and aide-de-camp to the general-in-chief), embracing all his wants and directing Colonel Scott to give in his name all necessary instructions. Colonel Scott ridiculed the idea of relief, and his indifference caused the loss of half a day of precious time, besides furnishing recruits who, Fox complained, were “totally unfit” for the service they were sent on.[198]

Fox at once engaged the large steamer _Baltic_ for troops and stores, and, after great difficulty, obtained three tugs, the _Uncle Ben_, _Freeborn_, and _Yankee_, the last fitted to throw hot water. The _Pocahontas_, _Pawnee_, and the revenue-cutter _Harriet Lane_, as already mentioned, were to be a part of the force, which thus, with the _Powhatan_, included four armed vessels, the last being of considerable power. The _Pawnee_, Commander Rowan, sailed from Washington the 9th; the _Pocahontas_, Captain Gillis, from Norfolk the 10th; the _Harriet Lane_, Captain Faunce, from New York the 8th; the _Baltic_, Captain Fletcher, the 9th. The _Powhatan_ was already far on her way to Pensacola.

The _Baltic_ arrived at the rendezvous, ten miles east of Charleston bar, at 3 A.M. of the 12th, and found there the _Harriet Lane_; at six the _Pawnee_ arrived; the _Powhatan_ was not visible. The _Baltic_, followed by the _Harriet Lane_, stood in toward the land, where heavy guns were heard and the smoke and shells from the batteries which had opened that morning on Sumter were distinctly visible. Fox stood out to inform Rowan, of the _Pawnee_. Rowan asked for a pilot, declaring his intention of going in and sharing the fate of his brethren of the army. Fox went aboard the _Pawnee_ and informed him that he would answer for it that the government did not expect such a sacrifice, having settled maturely upon the policy in instructions to Captain Mercer and himself. The _Nashville_, from New York, and a number of merchant vessels off the bar, gave the appearance of the presence of a large naval fleet.

The weather continued very bad, with a heavy sea. No tugboats had arrived; the tug _Freeborn_ did not leave New York; the _Uncle Ben_ was driven into Wilmington by the gale; the _Yankee_ did not arrive off Charleston bar until April 15th, too late for any service; neither the _Pawnee_ nor the _Harriet Lane_ had boats or men to carry supplies; the _Baltic_ stood out to the rendezvous and signalled all night for the expected _Powhatan_. The next morning, the 13th, was thick and foggy, with a heavy ground-swell, and the _Baltic_, feeling her way in, touched on Rattlesnake Shoal, but without damage; a great volume of black smoke was seen from Sumter. No tugboats had yet arrived, and a schooner near by, loaded with ice, was seized and preparations made to load her for entering the following night. Going aboard the _Pawnee_, Fox now learned that a note from Captain Mercer of the _Powhatan_ mentioned that he had been detached by superior authority and that the ship had gone elsewhere; though Fox had left New York two days later than the _Powhatan_, he had no intimation of the change. At 2 P.M., April 13th, the _Pocahontas_ arrived, and the squadron, powerless for relief, through the absence of the _Powhatan_ and the tugs, was obliged to witness the progress of the bombardment.[199]

“About 4 A.M. on the twelfth,” says Doubleday, “I was awakened by some one groping about my room in the dark and calling out my name.” This was Anderson, who had come to inform his second in command of the information just received of the intention of the Confederates to open fire an hour later.[200] At 4.30, the Confederates being able to make out the outline of the fort, a gun at Fort Johnson was fired as the signal to open; the first shotted gun was then fired from Morris Island by Edmund Ruffin, an aged secessionist from Virginia, who had long, in pamphlet and speech, advocated separation from the Union. The fire from the batteries at once became general.

The fort began its return at seven o’clock. All the officers and men, including the engineers, had been divided into three reliefs of two hours each, and the forty-three workmen yet remaining all volunteered for duty. It was, however, an absurdly meagre force to work such a number of guns and to be pitted against the surrounding batteries, manned by more than six thousand men. The number of cartridges was so reduced by the middle of the day, though the six needles available were kept steadily at work in making cartridge-bags, that the firing had to slacken and be confined to the six guns bearing toward Moultrie and the batteries on the west end of Sullivan’s Island. The mortar fire had become very accurate, so that, when the 13-inch shells “came down in a vertical direction and buried themselves in the parade-ground, their explosion shook the fort like an earthquake.”[201] The horizontal fire also grew in accuracy, and Anderson, to save his men, withdrew them from the barbette guns and used those of the lower tiers only. Unfortunately, these were of too light a caliber to be effective against the Morris Island batteries, the shot rebounding without effect from the face of the iron-clad battery there, as well as from the floating iron-clad battery moored behind the sea-wall at Sullivan’s Island. The withdrawal of the men from the heavier battery could only be justified by the already foregone result, and no doubt this was in Anderson’s mind. The garrison was reduced to pork and water, and, however willing, it could not with such meagre food withstand the strain of the heavy labor of working the guns; to add to the difficulties, the guns, strange to say, were not provided with breech-sights, and these had to be improvised with notched sticks.[202]

The shells from the batteries set fire to the barracks three times during the day, and the precision of the vertical fire was such that the four 8-inch and one 10-inch columbiad, planted in the parade, could not be used. Half the shells fired from the seventeen mortars engaged came within, or exploded above, the parapet of the fort, and only about ten buried themselves in the soft earth of the parade without exploding. Two of the barbette guns were struck by the fire from Moultrie, which also damaged greatly the roof of the barracks and the stair towers. None of the shot came through. The day closed stormy and with a high tide, without any material damage to the strength of the fort. Throughout the night the Confederate batteries threw shell every ten or fifteen minutes. The garrison was occupied until midnight in making cartridge-bags, for which all the extra clothing was cut up and all the coarse paper and extra hospital sheets used.[203]

At daylight, April 13th, all the batteries again opened, and the new twelve-pounder Blakely rifle, which had arrived but four days before from abroad,[204] caused the wounding of a sergeant and three men by the fragments thrown off from the interior of the wall by its deep penetration. An engineer employed was severely wounded by a fragment of shell. Hot shot now became frequent, and at nine o’clock the officers’ quarters were set afire. As it was evident the fire would soon surround the magazine, every one not at the guns was employed to get out powder; but only fifty barrels could be removed to the casements, when it became necessary from the spread of the flames to close the magazine. The whole range of the officers’ quarters was soon in flames, and the clouds of smoke and cinders sent into the casements set on fire many of the men’s beds and boxes, making the retention of the powder so dangerous that all but five barrels were thrown into the sea.[205]

By eleven o’clock the fire and smoke were driven by the wind in such masses into the point where the men had taken refuge that suffocation appeared imminent. “The roaring and crackling of the flames, the dense masses of whirling smoke, the bursting of the enemy’s shells, and our own, which were exploding in the burning rooms, the crashing of the shot and the sound of masonry falling in every direction made the fort a pandemonium.... There was a tower at each angle of the fort. One of these, containing great quantities of shells, ... was almost completely shattered by successive explosions. The massive wooden gates, studded with iron nails, were burned, and the wall built behind them was now a heap of débris, so that the main entrance was wide open for an assaulting party.”[206]

But however great the apparent damage and the discomfort and danger while the fire lasted, the firing could have been resumed “as soon as the walls cooled sufficiently to open the magazines, and then, having blown down the wall projecting above the parapet, so as to get rid of the flying bricks, and built up the main gates with stones and rubbish, the fort would actually have been in a more defensible condition than when the action commenced.”[207]

But want of men, want of food, and want of powder together made a _force majeure_ against which further strife was useless; and when, about 1 P.M., the flag-staff was shot away, though the flag was at once flown from an improvised staff, a boat was sent from the commanding officer at Morris Island, bringing Colonel (Ex-Senator) Wigfall and a companion bearing a white flag, to inquire if the fort had surrendered.

Being allowed entrance, Major Anderson was sought for, and Wigfall, using Beauregard’s name, offered Anderson his own terms. Wigfall exhibited a white handkerchief from the parapet, and this being noticed brought from Beauregard himself Colonel Chesnut, Colonel Roger A. Pryor, Colonel William Porcher Miles, and Captain Lee, followed soon by Beauregard’s adjutant-general, Jones, Ex-Governor Manning, and Colonel Alston. It transpired that Wigfall had not seen Beauregard for two days, and that his visit was wholly unauthorized. The proper authorities, however, being now at hand, arrangements were concluded at 7 P.M., Anderson surrendering (after some correspondence), with permission to salute the flag as it was hauled down, to march out with colors flying and drums beating and with arms and private baggage.[208]

Noticing the disappearance of the colors, a flag of truce was sent in from the squadron outside, and arrangements made for carrying the garrison north. Next morning, Sunday, April 14th, with a salute of fifty guns, the flag was finally hauled down. It had been Anderson’s intention to fire a hundred guns, but a lamentable accident occurred in the premature discharge of one, by which one man was killed, another mortally wounded, and four others seriously injured. This accident delayed the departure until 4 P.M., when the little company of some eighty men, accompanied by the forty laborers,[209] marched out of the gate with their flags flying and drums beating. The steamer _Isabel_ carried Anderson and his men to the _Baltic_, and at nightfall they were on their way north.

April 15th, the day after the surrender, the President issued his proclamation calling “forth the militia of the several states of the Union” to the number of seventy-five thousand men, in order to suppress “combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings or by the powers vested in the marshals by law,” and “to cause the laws to be duly executed.” Congress was called to convene July 4th. An immediate effect of the proclamation was the secession of Virginia, April 17th, the conservative elements of the state convention, although in the majority, being overwhelmed by the enthusiasm and impetus of the secession attack. Another prompt result was the formation of the northwestern counties into what is now West Virginia.

Fox’s expedition, however abortive in a physical sense, did much more than attempt to succor Sumter; it was the instrument through which the fort was held to the accomplishment of the fateful mistake of the Confederacy in striking the first blow. It prevented the voluntary yielding of the fort, and was an exhibition of the intention of the government to hold its own. It was thus elemental in its effects. Had Anderson withdrawn and hauled down his flag without a shot from the South, it would have been for the Federal government to strike the first blow of war; and its call for men would have met with a different response to that which came from the electric impulse which the firing upon the flag caused to vibrate through the North. This expectation was the basis of Lincoln’s determination. Almost alone, unmovable by Cabinet or War Department, he saw with the certainty of the seer what holding Sumter meant, and continued on the unchangeable way which from the first he had taken. In his letter of sympathy to Fox, May 1st, he said: “You and I both anticipated that the cause of the country would be advanced by making the attempt to provision Fort Sumter, even if it should fail, and it is no small consolation now to feel that our anticipation is justified by the result.”[210]

The enthusiastic response of the North to the proclamation was witness to the truth of Lincoln’s view, as well as to the North’s determination that the offended dignity of the Union should be avenged, its strongholds regained, its boundaries made intact, and that the United States be proved to be a nation. It was for this the Union fought; the freeing of the blacks was but a natural and necessary incident. The assault upon Sumter was the knife driven by the hand of the South itself into the vitals of slavery.

SYNOPSIS OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS, CHIEFLY MILITARY, BETWEEN THE BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER, 1861, AND THE BATTLE OF THE _MONITOR_ AND THE _MERRIMAC_, 1862

1861. President Lincoln calls for seventy-five thousand militia to suppress the rebellion of the Southern States. Secession of Virginia, Tennessee, Arkansas, and North Carolina. Formal division of Western Virginia from Virginia. The Massachusetts militia attacked in Baltimore. The Congress of the Confederate States assembles at Montgomery and is later transferred to Richmond. The first battle of Bull Run results in a Federal repulse. Battle of Wilson’s Creek. Repulse of the Federals at Ball’s Bluff. McClellan succeeds Scott as commander-in-chief of the Federal armies. The Federals gain possession of Port Royal. The Confederate commissioners, Mason and Slidell, are intercepted on the British steamer _Trent_.

1862. Surrender of the Confederate commissioners, Mason and Slidell, to the British government. The Federals capture Roanoke Island. Fort Henry and Fort Donelson surrender to General Grant. Federal victory at Pea Ridge. Engagement between the _Monitor_ and the _Merrimac_. The French declare war against Mexico.

XVI

THE BATTLE OF THE _MONITOR_ AND THE _MERRIMAC_

I

A PRELUDE TO THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN OF APRIL TO JUNE, 1862

_By James Kendall Hosmer_

Obviously the capture of Richmond was the proper objective in the offensive campaign in the East for which McClellan had been so long preparing. The selection of that city by the Confederacy for the seat of government caused all its interests to centre there; the maintenance of its capital, moreover, was essential to the good standing of the Confederacy before Europe, recognition from which was so earnestly desired. If the North could capture Richmond, quite possibly nothing more would be necessary to crush the South. The protection of Washington, too, could not be left at all in doubt. Should that city be lost to the Union, England and France might justly feel that the cause of the North was hopeless, and no longer refrain from intervention.

Before Washington, McClellan and Johnston faced each other throughout the fall of 1861, the latter having, in October, a force of 41,000, which later grew to 57,337.[211] Under Johnston at the end of the year were three subordinates--Jackson, in the Valley of Virginia; Beauregard, about Leesburg, near the Potomac; and Holmes, below Washington, about Acquia Creek, where Confederate batteries closed the Potomac. McClellan had fully twice as many men, an army well disciplined and equipped, devoted to their leader, and of fine _morale_. Why could the army not be used? Because the general always imagined before him a host of enemies that greatly outnumbered his own, and insisted on more men and a more perfect training before setting out. Meantime he grew cavalier in his treatment of his superiors. The venerable Scott, who now retired at seventy-five, had his last days embittered by the scant courtesy of the new commander, and even the President was slighted. “I will hold McClellan’s horse for him if he will only win us victories,” said Lincoln, with good-natured patience. In December, McClellan fell ill, and all was in doubt. With the new year, 1862, prospects brightened for the Union. The great successes in the West and South, ending with the capture of New Orleans, brought cheer; at last the army of the Potomac was in motion.

In March, Johnston withdrew southward; and McClellan, his command now restricted to the “Army of the Potomac,” as he had baptized his splendid creation, was ready for the long-delayed advance. Lincoln, whose good sense when applied to warfare often, though not always, struck true, earnestly desired that Richmond should be approached by a direct southward movement, Washington being covered, while at the same time Richmond was threatened. But McClellan judged it better to proceed by the Chesapeake, landing at the end of the peninsula running up between the York and James rivers, and marching against Richmond from the east. Much could be said in favor of this route: troops and supplies could be carried by water to the neighborhood of Richmond without fatigue or danger. Yet the President yielded reluctantly, fearing danger to Washington, laying it down as fundamental that the capital must be protected by forty thousand men.

The Peninsular campaign had a dramatic prelude. A necessary condition was a command of the waters, which was secured in early March by an event that startled the world. Among the many disadvantages under which the South labored in her struggle with the North was a painful lack, as compared with her opponent, of factories, machine-shops, ship-yards, and skilled labor; yet determination and ingenuity brought about several wonderful fighting contrivances, of which the most remarkable was the _Virginia_. The hull of the _Merrimac_, a frigate of thirty-five hundred tons and forty guns, one of the most formidable vessels of the old navy, partly burned and afterward sunk at the evacuation of Norfolk by the Federals in April, 1861, was raised, and found to be sound enough for further use. Good heads, among whom John M. Brooke, manager of the Tredegar Iron Works at Richmond, was prominent, fitted to the hull a casemate, or box, pierced for cannon, and heavily plated with iron--the first effective armored ship. There was a frank farewell to masts, sails, and other former appliances for motion and management. The winds were superseded by steam, applied for the first time in naval warfare, not as auxiliary, but as the sole motive-power. One appliance of the _Virginia_ was, however, not a new invention, but a revival of a fighting arm common in the days of Salamis and Actium--a ram, projecting from the prow like that of an ancient galley.[212] The craft was cumbrous, hard to steer, and provided with engines far too weak for her immense weight, but she had marvellous defensive power and was fast enough to approach and destroy any resisting sailing-ship.

On March 8th, from the direction of Norfolk, the _Virginia_, a mass low-lying upon the water, suddenly appeared before the astonished eyes of the Federal onlookers in Hampton Roads.[213] Five stately wooden frigates lay at anchor off Hampton, and they gallantly discharged their broadsides at this strange assailant, but the balls glanced harmless from her impenetrable back. She turned and pierced the _Cumberland_ with her ram, sending the frigate to the bottom; then she assailed the _Congress_, which presently went up in flames; the brave crews as helpless as if their means of defence were bows and arrows. Mistress of the situation, with three more frigates--_Minnesota_, _Roanoke_, and _St. Lawrence_--aground on the shoals or offering a futile defiance, the _Virginia_ then withdrew for the day; she was certain of her prey and could afford to wait for a few hours, meanwhile making some changes which would render her more effective. Vivid terror overspread the North as the news was despatched in the evening; and it was nowhere greater than in the cabinet-room at the White House, where Lincoln anxiously studied upon means to meet the exigency; and Stanton, pacing the room “like a caged lion,” predicted she would come up the Potomac and shell Washington.[214]

On the forenoon of March 9th, doing all things deliberately, as one that has no reason to hasten, the _Virginia_ again appeared and moved toward the _Minnesota_, aground and apparently certain to become a helpless victim. Suddenly in the path appeared a little craft scarcely one-fourth the size of the _Virginia_, “a cheese-box on a raft,” as it will go down in history, the _Monitor_, an iron-clad of another pattern. This vessel, undertaken as an experiment, and completed in one hundred days, was due to the genius and indomitable zeal of John Ericsson, its designer. That it should have arrived from New York at this moment is one of the fateful accidents of history. A multitude beheld the encounter, from the ships close at hand, from the shores near and far. The superior size and armament of the _Virginia_ were neutralized by her unwieldiness and depth of draught. The _Monitor_, more active, and passing everywhere over shoal or through channel, could elude or strike as she chose. Neither had much power to harm the other; each crew behind its shield manœuvred and fired for the most part uninjured. Worden, commander of the _Monitor_, in his pilot-house at the bow, built of iron bars log-cabin fashion, received in the face, as he peered through the interstice, the blinding fire and smoke from a shell that struck within a few inches, but he escaped death. The casualties on the _Virginia_ were few. On the morning of that day both North and South believed that the Confederacy was about to control the sea. The anticipation, whether hope or fear, vanished in the smoke of that day’s battle. With it, too, passed away the traditional beauty and romance of the old sea-service--the oakribbed and white-winged navies, whose dominion had been so long and picturesque, at last and forever gave way to steel and steam.[215]

II

THE BATTLE DESCRIBED BY CAPTAIN WORDEN AND LIEUTENANT GREENE OF THE _MONITOR_

_By Lucius E. Chittenden_

Some weeks after the historic battle between the _Monitor_ and the _Merrimac_ in Hampton Roads, on March 9, 1862, the former vessel came to the Washington navy-yard unchanged, in the same condition as when she discharged her parting shot at the _Merrimac_. There she lay until her heroic commander had so far recovered from his injuries as to be able to rejoin his vessel. All leaves of absence had been revoked, the absentees had returned and were ready to welcome their captain. President Lincoln, Captain Fox, and a limited number of Captain Worden’s personal friends had been invited to his informal reception. Lieutenant Greene received the President and the guests. He was a boy in years--not too young to volunteer, however, when volunteers were scarce, and to fight the _Merrimac_ during the last half of the battle, after the captain was disabled.