| Charleston Harbor in 1861 |
The attack on Fort Sumter marked a point of no return.
Since South Carolina began its dialogue regarding secession, people had
speculated whether it would mean civil war.
Orator Wendell
Phillips voiced the sentiment best just days before the attack on Fort Sumter
occurred. In a lecture delivered at the Lyceum in New Bedford, Massachusetts,
on April 9, 1861, he said, “Mr. Jefferson Davis is angry, and Mr. Abraham
Lincoln is mad, and they agree to fight. One, two, or three years hence, if the
news of the afternoon is correct, we shall have gone through a war, spent
millions, required the death of a hundred thousand men, and be exactly where we
are now—two nations, a little poorer, and a great deal wiser, and that will be
the only difference. We may just as well settle it now as then.”
To be sure,
Phillips seemed to believe Lincoln’s war stance was little more than a ruse. “If
the administration provokes bloodshed, it is a trick—nothing else. It is the masterly cunning of that devil of compromises.
He is not mad enough to let those States rush into battle.”
It would be a foolish mistake. A mistake that Phillips said
could provoke New England to form its own country. But if Northerners felt this
way, how must the South have felt with
Northern guns bearing down on them?
Augustin Baldwin
Longstreet, Confederate General James Longstreet’s uncle, attempted to explain
the situation at Fort Sumter.
“Why don’t they attack Fort Sumter?” Longstreet asked himself. “What is the governor about that he does not attack Fort Sumter?” Then, after reflecting on the situation, he said that if he were the governor, he would not attack the fort because each day he waited weakened the fort, and strengthened the South Carolinian’s power over it.
That made sense.
Then he displayed the same flawed thinking as the politicians in the North. “I
believe as soon as the Southern Confederacy is formed,” he said, “the forts
will be delivered up without bloodshed...because I would consider the
possession of the fort just now a burden rather than a benefit.”
Each man grasped
the situation. What they failed to understand were the forces driving the war.
Longstreet was correct. At present, possessing the forts would be a burden, but
holding them until the last moment was essential to selling the war. Lincoln
would have been forced to pussyfoot around like his predecessor, James
Buchanan, if the South had not drawn first blood. It was an entirely different
ballgame as soon as the South Carolinians attacked Sumter.
Major Robert Anderson with his staff
Phillips was correct in saying it would be a long, drawn-out war bringing the country back to where it had begun. He was also right in saying a civil war could splinter the nation into many divisions, not just North and South, similar to during the Revolutionary War, when New England threatened to go off on her own. In 1863 during the draft riots, New York City talked about becoming a separate nation.
Clearly, a civil
war harbored many hidden dangers. Often, they would rear their heads at
unexpected moments.
Everyone realized that
if there were to be a Civil War, it would begin with the forts in Charleston
Harbor.
Almost thirty years before, South Carolina came close to seceding from the Union in a fight over what it considered unfair and excessive tariffs. The question then was if a state disagrees with federal law, does it have the right to nullify it and disregard that law? Vice-president John C. Calhoun argued that state’s rights superseded federal statutes. President Andrew Jackson believed to his dying day that Calhoun was a damned traitor and that he should have strung him up from the nearest branch.
South
Carolina called for a Nullification Convention in November 1832. They
proclaimed the Tariffs of 1828 and 1832 unconstitutional and null and void in
that state. The convention set a deadline of February 1, 1833, after which they
would no longer enforce the laws within
their borders.
On
January 21, South Carolina postponed the nullification deadline—hoping a
compromise could be worked out. Henry Clay jumped in and brokered a compromise
bill, promising to reduce the tariff in small increments back to twenty percent
by 1842. The South Carolina Nullification Convention reconvened and overturned the nullification ordinance on March 11,
1833.
The crisis was averted, and the nation returned to business as usual.
The
actual issue—un-talked about at the time but understood by everyone—was
slavery. Of course, it went without saying that if the Federal government could
impose economic restrictions against a state’s best interests, it could also
outlaw slavery and the Southern way of life with it.
In 1860, the
bugaboo over slavery reared its ugly head again, and the devil behind it was
Abraham Lincoln. At least, that is the way, the South Carolinians viewed
Lincoln and his Black Republicans.
After Abraham
Lincoln’s election in November 1860, South Carolina convened a secession
convention to consider withdrawing from the Union. The spark behind it
concerned Lincoln’s stance on not allowing slavery to expand into the
territories.
The Ordinance of
Secession was passed on December 20, 1860. After
that, South Carolina Governor Francis Wilkinson Pickens set his sights on the federal
forts in Charleston Harbor.
As early as
December 1, 1860, the War Department anticipated that an attack might be made
on the forts. The adjutant general notified Major Robert Anderson, the
commander of the forts, that he believed an attack on his command was unlikely.
But whatever happened, Anderson’s “actions must be such as to be free from the
charge of initiating a collision.”
Essentially, the
War Department instructed Anderson to prepare his command for battle but not
assume a warlike stance. The government could not reinforce or supply the
garrison without bringing the conflict to a head. Anderson was to make do with
the materials and men he had. He was to walk that fine line between readiness
and disaster.
In early December,
Secretary of War John B. Floyd sent Major Don Carlos Buell to apprize Anderson
of what was expected of him. The War Department instructed
Anderson to give the enemy every opportunity possible before attacking.
“You are to
carefully avoid every act which would needlessly tend to provoke aggression,
and for that reason, you are not, without evident and imminent necessity, to
take up any position which could be construed into the assumption of a hostile
attitude. You are to hold possession of the forts in this harbor, and if you
are attacked, you are to defend yourself to the last extremity.”
Map showing location of forts in Charleston Harbor
When he finished
coaching Major Anderson, Buell traveled to Charleston. During his brief visit,
Buell decided the South Carolinians were as intent on taking the forts as they
were on secession. However, because the militia had performed no acts of
aggression, the army could not react.
From the start, it
was apparent that Anderson’s orders were absurd and impossible. He was in the
heart of the rebellion with no hope of reinforcement or resupply. The enemy
outnumbered him a hundred, maybe a thousand to one, and he was expected to
carry on business as usual.
Buell’s
memorandum concerning his visit to Fort Sumter appeared on President Buchanan’s
desk ten days later. The president shook his head as he
modified the section that required Anderson to “defend himself to the last
extremity.”
He considered it an
act of foolhardiness for Anderson to sacrifice himself or his men for “a mere
point of honor.” So instead, he told him if he should be overwhelmed by a
superior force to “make the best terms in
his power.”
When the
hullaballoo over the forts began, Major Anderson and most of his men were
stationed at Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island in Charleston Harbor. It was a
tenuous position at best. Anderson told a friend that one hundred men with
rifles could position themselves in the houses behind the fort and make short
work of his command.
Anderson wrote a
friend in early December to express his worries about his command’s position. “This
fort is a very weak one in its capacity of being defended; it is surrounded by
houses that I cannot destroy or burn until I am certain that I am to be
attacked, and I shall not be certain of it until the South Carolinians are in
possession of it.”
It presented the
garrison at Charleston Harbor with a Catch-22. The War Department ordered
Anderson to hold his position but not take the offensive or appear aggressive
in protecting himself.
By mid-December,
Anderson determined his position at Fort Moultrie was untenable. If he stayed
there, his men were little more than sitting ducks, waiting for the South
Carolinians to pick them off one by one.
The only solution
was to move his command to a more defensible position.
Anderson
transferred his garrison to Fort Sumter on the evening of December 16, 1860.
After completing the move, Anderson left orders to “have all the guns at Fort
Moultrie spiked, and the carriages of the thirty-two pounders destroyed.”[1]
In addition, he instructed Captain Foster to
destroy whatever ammunition he could not transfer.
When Governor F. W.
Pickens learned that Anderson had moved his command to Fort Sumter, he ordered
Anderson back to Fort Moultrie. When Anderson refused, the South Carolina
militia seized Fort Johnson, Fort Moultrie, Castle Pinckney, and the United
States Arsenal in Charleston.
The move changed the balance of power in Charleston Harbor for a while. Major Anderson wrote his friend, Rev. R. B. Duane, that Fort Sumter “will soon be made so strong that the South Carolinians will be madmen if they attack me.”
That would soon
prove to be a fatal miscalculation.
President Buchanan
got caught with his pants down when the South Carolina commissioners visited
Washington on December 26. That was the first time Buchanan, or the
commissioners heard that Major Anderson had shifted positions.
Anderson’s
move to Fort Sumter surprised the Buchanan administration as much as it did the
South Carolinians. Both factions assumed they had an unspoken understanding to
maintain the status quo in Charleston Harbor, pending a resolution to the secession
crisis. The commissioners demanded that the president should order Anderson
back to Fort Moultrie to restore order.
President Buchanan
declined. He said he needed to hear Major Anderson’s reasons for shifting his command to Fort Sumter before he
could decide.
Secretary Floyd
jumped on the telegraph and told Anderson that the administration did not
believe he made a move because “there is
no order for any such movement.”
“I abandoned Fort
Moultrie because I was certain that, if attacked, my men must have been
sacrificed,” responded Anderson, “and the command of the harbor lost. I spiked
the guns and destroyed the carriages to keep the guns from being used against
us. If attacked, the garrison would never have surrendered without a fight.”
When President
Buchanan submitted his response to the South Carolina commissioners, he made it
clear that he could not address South Carolina as an independent nation. They
were still part of the United States. The forts “belong to this government, are
its own, and cannot be given up.” Then, he wavered a bit on his aggressive stance. “It is true they might be
surrendered to a superior force, whether that force be in the service of a seceding state or a foreign nation. But Fort
Sumter is impregnable and cannot be taken if defended as it should be.”
Finally, he called
Major Anderson a hero. He did what his government could not or would not do.
Anderson’s transfer of his command to Fort Sumter saved the “strongest fort.”
Map showing the attack on Fort Sumter
All the while
negotiations were going on, the soldiers inside Fort Sumter watched the South
Carolinians fortify their positions in Charleston Harbor.
Just days after the
garrison moved to Sumter, the Yorkville
Enquirer talked about a “distinct understanding” between the two
governments, that “no such transfer would be made, no reinforcement of either
of the forts attempted, and no transfer of arms or ammunition.”
The newspaper
reported on January 3; the Volunteer Companies were
busy rebuilding the forts. The garrison at Castle Pinckney comprised two
hundred men. It had ten twenty-four-pound cannons
and fifteen other guns. “The work is well provided with munitions of all kinds,
and...will make itself felt if need be when the time comes.”
Fort Moultrie was
quiet. The guns were rendered useless (although, within days, it was reported
they were restored to working order). The Palmetto Guards and Cadet Riflemen
stood guard over the arsenal in Charleston. They had strict orders that no one should be admitted, and
nothing carried out.
On January 11,
1861, Governor Pickens sent Major Anderson a demand to surrender. Anderson said
he could not answer. He told Pickens he had passed the request on to his
government and was waiting for an answer.
The steamer Star of the West provoked the first
shots in Charleston Harbor in mid-February when it tried to deliver relief
troops to Fort Sumter.
Harper's Weekly illustration of attack on Fort Sumter
South Carolina
troops fired a shot over the bow of the Star
of the West. They waited three or four minutes, and when the ship did not
slow down, the guns at Morris Island opened fire. Nine more shots were fired
from Fort Morris and three from Fort Moultrie. At that point, the Star of the West gave up, turned around,
and sailed away.
Major Anderson
wrote Governor Pickens, “As I have not been notified that war has been declared
by South Carolina against the Government of the United States, I cannot but
think that this hostile act was committed without your sanction or authority.” Because
he was unsure whether the governor authorized the firing, Anderson said he held
his fire. If that were not the case, he would consider it “an act of
war.”
While this was
going on, the militia continued to
fortify their positions.
The South
Carolinians constructed a floating
battery on the pier at the foot of Hoyle
Street. It was a massive structure that measured nearly eighty feet long and
thirty feet wide. One side and both ends were covered with planks three inches
thick and ten feet high. The walls were
built at a right angle on the firing side so that cannonballs would glance off.
When it was completed, the military planned to float it as close as possible to
Fort Sumter.
Illustration of the damage inside Fort Sumter
Several more
batteries comprising cannons and mortars were erected on Cumming’s Point. One
of the experimental batteries had a
“heavy sloping roof, the near side to Sumter resting on the ground, and is
covered with railroad t iron as close as the bars can be laid. Shot striking
this will, of course, glance over. Under the sheds are three eight-inch
Columbiads bearing directly on Sumter.”
At Fort Moultrie,
“The guns are very heavy, 42 and 64 pounders—only ten, however, are bearing on
Sumter, and only two of these are Columbiads. The other guns in this fort, some
dozen or more, command the ship channel.”
The author said, “People
should be quiet and not complain that Sumter is not attacked. They may rest
assured that it will not be child’s play.”
Any fool could see
that.
Fort Sumter was
nearly impregnable. It was shaped like a giant
hexagon with one corner cut off. It sprawled over almost three acres and measured 312 feet by 190 feet. On either
side of the bastions were mounted Barbette guns. There were loopholes along the
wall where soldiers could slip out their muskets. At the top of the massive
34-foot walls were cannons. At least thirteen pointed at Cumming’s Point.
One look at Fort
Sumter made it easy to understand why President Buchanan and Major Anderson
believed that the fort was unassailable.
In less than a
month, they would be forced to rethink everything.
The day after his
inauguration, Abraham Lincoln received several communications from Major
Anderson stating he would require at least twenty thousand more troops to
secure Fort Sumter. Up to that point, the previous administration was stalling
on sending 250 relief troops.
Where was the
disconnect?
Did Secretary of
War Holt and President Buchanan misjudge the situation? Was Anderson a traitor?
Or was there some miscommunication that would explain how things had gotten to
this point?
General Wade Hampton examini9ng damage to Fort Sumter
On March 15,
Abraham Lincoln sent a letter to each cabinet member. “Assuming it to be
possible to now provision Fort Sumter, under the circumstances, is it wise to
attempt it?”
The response was
mixed.
William Seward
wanted a peaceful settlement. He said it was “unwise and inhuman not to
attempt” to hold the fort, but doing so would “probably initiate a civil war.”
Because of that, he advised Lincoln to abandon the fort.
General Scott told
Lincoln that the time to save Sumter had passed nearly a month before. Now, it
would take 5,000 regular troops and 20,000 volunteers. Raising and training
them could take six to eight months. The awful truth was that the time to take the forts was back before Anderson moved
his command to Fort Sumter. If the government had sent in troops, it would have
forced the conflict, but they could have held the forts.
No action was
taken.
As a result, there
was no hope of holding the fort and no order to withdraw the troops from it.
The administration’s indecision left Major Anderson’s command in limbo.
On April 11,
General Beauregard sent two aides to see Major Anderson. They demanded that he
should evacuate Fort Sumter immediately.
Beauregard offered to transport Anderson and his command to “any port in the
United States he might select.”
Anderson refused,
but as Beauregard’s aides were leaving, he told them, “if we did not batter him
to pieces, he would be starved out in a few days, or words to that effect.”
When he heard
Anderson could only hold out for a few days, Beauregard sent his aides back to
renegotiate. Anderson said he would be willing “to evacuate the fort on Monday
afternoon if provided with the necessary means of transportation and if he
should not receive contradictory instructions from his government or additional
supplies.”
That should have
settled it. The conflict should have resolved itself peacefully. Instead,
Beauregard second-guessed himself. He
grew concerned he might be attacked by the American fleet lying off the
entrance to the harbor. He notified Anderson that his batteries would open fire
on the fort at 4:30 am.
Beauregard fired a
signal shell from Fort Johnson at the appointed hour. At 5 a.m., a general fire
broke out from all the batteries.
Fort Sumter did not
return fire until 7 a.m.
Cannon and mortar
fire kept up throughout the day and night on Friday. The night was rainy and
dark, and the South Carolinians expected the fleet to move in at any moment.
One Southerner commented, “The bombardment continued through the night and
presented a beautiful sight. It looked like streams of fire coming from many
different points and forming into Fort Sumter.”
Another South
Carolinian said, “the US fleet could be
plainly seen lying off the bar of the North Channel. This, I think, was the
most cowardly act that I have ever witnessed. They did not attempt to render
any assistance.”
Early Saturday
morning, the Confederates opened fire on Sumter. At about 9 a.m., dense smoke poured out of the fort, and the
flag was lowered to half-mast. Beauregard increased his fire, hoping to speed up a surrender.
Before you go ...
If you’ve ever caught yourself saying, “I
remember that,” you’re in the right place.
I dig up stories about Old West lawmen,
outlaws, gunfighters, robberies, murders, forgotten towns, and all the strange,
fascinating pieces of history that somehow slipped through the cracks. No
clickbait. No fluff. Just authentic stories and actual history.
If you enjoy what you read and would like to
help keep the lights on, consider buying me a Big Gulp.
Every little bit helps pay for books,
newspaper archives, research trips, and the countless hours spent tracking down
stories most people forgot decades ago.
Buy Me a Big Gulp / NickVulich.com
If the Old West is your thing, you may enjoy
these books...
No comments:
Post a Comment