[Illustration: _A Confederate battery at Fort Johnson on James
Island pounds away at a virtually defenseless Fort Sumter in this
hand-colored contemporary engraving of the April 1861 bombardment._]
[Illustration: _The first notice of the adoption of South Carolina’s
Ordinance of Secession appeared in a special edition of the
Charleston_ Mercury.]
CHARLESTON
MERCURY
EXTRA:
_Passed unanimously at 1.15 o’clock, P. M. December 20th, 1860._
AN ORDINANCE
_To dissolve the Union between the State of South Carolina and other
States united with her under the compact entitled “The Constitution of
the United States of America.”_
_We, the People of the State of South Carolina, in Convention
assembled, do declare and ordain, and it is hereby declared and
ordained,_
That the Ordinance adopted by us in Convention, on the twenty-third day
of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and
eighty-eight, whereby the Constitution of the United States of America
was ratified, and also, all Acts and parts of Acts of the General
Assembly of this State, ratifying amendments of the said Constitution,
are hereby repealed; and that the union now subsisting between South
Carolina and other States, under the name of “The United States of
America,” is hereby dissolved.
THE
UNION
IS
DISSOLVED!
Fort Sumter and the Coming of War, 1861
The headline in the Charleston _Mercury_ summed it up aptly. After
decades of sectional conflict, South Carolinians responded to the
election of the first Republican President, Abraham Lincoln, by voting
unanimously in convention on December 20, 1860, to secede from the
Union. Within six weeks five other States—Mississippi, Florida, Alabama,
Georgia, and Louisiana—followed her example. Early in February 1861 they
met in Montgomery, Alabama, adopted a constitution, set up a provisional
government—the Confederate States of America—and elected Jefferson Davis
of Mississippi as President. By March 2, when Texas joined the
Confederacy, nearly all the forts and naval yards in the seceded States
had been seized by the new power. Fort Sumter was one of the handful
that remained in Federal possession.
When South Carolina left the Union, the only post in Charleston Harbor
garrisoned in strength by United States troops was Fort Moultrie on
Sullivans Island. There, Maj. Robert Anderson commanded two companies of
the First U.S. Artillery—about 85 officers and men. But six days after
the secession ordinance was passed, Anderson, believing Moultrie to be
indefensible, transferred his command to Fort Sumter. Unaware of an
apparent pledge to maintain the harbor _status quo_, given by President
James Buchanan some weeks before, Anderson acted in accordance with
verbal instructions he received December 11 to _hold possession of the
forts in this harbor, and if attacked ... to defend yourself to the last
extremity. The smallness of your force will not permit you, perhaps, to
occupy more than one of the three forts, but an attack on or attempt to
take possession of any of them will be regarded as an act of hostility,
and you may then put your command into either of them which you may deem
most proper to increase its power of resistance. You are also authorized
to take similar steps whenever you have tangible evidence of a design to
proceed to a hostile act._
[Illustration: _President James Buchanan, who sought to maintain
peace between the North and South during his final weeks in office.
His uncharacteristically firm stand against South Carolina over the
Sumter situation, however, risked the very conflict he sought to
avoid._]
[Illustration: _Secretary of War John B. Floyd, onetime governor of
Virginia and a strong secessionist sympathizer, condemned Anderson’s
occupation of Fort Sumter and urged President Buchanan not to send
reinforcements._]
Anderson thought he had “tangible evidence” of hostile intent, both
towards Fort Moultrie—an old fort vulnerable to land attack—and toward
Fort Sumter, then occupied by about 80 engineer workmen. He moved,
Anderson afterwards wrote to Secretary of War John B. Floyd, “to prevent
the effusion of blood” and because he was certain “that if attacked my
men must have been sacrificed, and the command of the harbor lost.” To
Anderson, a Kentuckian married to a Georgian, preservation of peace was
of paramount importance. At the same time, as a veteran soldier of
unquestioned loyalty, he had a duty to perform.
Charlestonians were outraged. Crowds collected in the streets; military
organizations paraded; and “loud and violent were the expressions of
feeling against Major Anderson and his action.” On December 27 South
Carolina volunteers occupied Fort Moultrie and Castle Pinckney, a third
harbor fort, and began erecting defensive batteries elsewhere around the
harbor. South Carolina’s governor, Francis Pickens, regarded Anderson’s
move not only as an “outrageous breach of faith” but an act of
aggression, and demanded, through commissioners sent to Washington, that
the Federal Government evacuate Charleston Harbor. On December 28
President Buchanan, while admitting that the occupation of Sumter was
against his policy, refused to accede to the demand.
The North was exultant. On New Year’s Day, 1861, amid cheers for Major
Anderson, salvos of artillery resounded in northern cities. By an
imposing majority, the House of Representatives voted approval of
Anderson’s “bold and patriotic” act. The only question that remained was
whether the national government would continue to support him.
At Fort Sumter, Anderson’s 85 officers and men (plus the engineer
workmen who remained after the fort was occupied) garrisoned a
fortification intended for as many as 650 and had “about 4 months”
supply of provisions. In January President Buchanan was persuaded to
send off a relief expedition. Initial plans called for sending the sloop
of war _Brooklyn_ for this purpose, but when word arrived that the South
Carolinians had obstructed the harbor entrance by sinking several ships,
it was decided to use the _Star of the West_, an ordinary merchant ship,
which would excite less suspicion and avoid the appearance of coercive
intent. Two hundred men, small arms and ammunition, and several months’
provisions were placed aboard. The men were to remain below deck on
entering Charleston Harbor; the _Brooklyn_ would follow, in case the
_Star of the West_ were fired upon and disabled.
But Charleston had been forewarned, and when the _Star of the West_
appeared at the entrance of the harbor on January 9, 1861, cadets from
the Citadel military college opened fire with several cannons mounted on
Morris Island. The unarmed ship turned back. Anderson had held his fire,
thinking the firing unauthorized. Orders authorizing supporting fire on
his part had failed to reach him in time. For the moment, civil war had
been avoided.
Further relief plans were now shelved, since President Buchanan was
anxious to end his term of office in peace. Yet it was apparent that
eventually the garrison would have to be supplied or the fort abandoned.
On January 10, Acting Secretary of War Joseph Holt (Floyd, a Southern
sympathizer, had resigned over Buchanan’s refusal to evacuate Fort
Sumter) ordered Anderson to act strictly on the defensive. Anderson and
Governor Pickens had already exchanged angry letters over the firing on
the _Star of the West_, and when the major refused the governor’s demand
to surrender the fort (January 11), Pickens sent Isaac W. Haynes, the
State’s attorney general, to Washington to try once again to get the
Federal troops removed. If this failed, Haynes was to offer to buy the
fort from the government. President Buchanan refused to do either. The
stalemate continued.
[Illustration: _South Carolina’s Governor Francis W. Pickens, who
tried to persuade President Buchanan to order Anderson and his
garrison back to Moultrie. “If I withdraw Anderson from Sumter,”
said the President, “I can travel home to Wheatland by the light of
my own burning effigies.” Anderson stayed and Pickens fumed._]
Fort Sumter was now preparing for attack. Thirty-eight more guns were
mounted in the first tier of casemates and along the parapet, including
heavier 42-pounders and Columbiads. Five Columbiads were mounted in the
parade as mortars and three howitzers about the sally port (gateway) in
the gorge. By April 12, a total of 60 guns were ready. “Bombproof”
shelters and “splinter-proof” traverses were constructed on the parade
ground and along the parapet. Overhanging galleries were built out from
the parapet at strategic points for dropping shells on an assaulting
force. Special protection was given the sally port. The second tier of
casemates was left unarmed, however, and the 8-foot-square openings in
the outer wall were bricked up. The small size of Anderson’s garrison
did not permit manning them.
[Illustration: _One of several Columbiads that Anderson had mounted
as mortars inside Fort Sumter to fire on Morris Island and
Charleston. None of them, however, were used during the
bombardment._]
Charleston, too, prepared. Besides continuing routine maintenance at
Castle Pinckney and Fort Moultrie, additional batteries were set up on
Sullivans Island, at Cummings Point on Morris Island, and outside Fort
Johnson. An “ironclad” Columbiad battery, constructed of inclined logs
plated with iron, was also mounted at Cummings Point. Meanwhile,
Governor Pickens continued to allow Anderson to buy fresh meat and
vegetables in town to supplement his garrison “issue” supply.
On March 1, the Confederate States government assumed control of
military operations in and around Charleston Harbor and sent Brig. Gen.
Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard to take command. Like Anderson,
Beauregard (who arrived at Charleston on March 3) was a veteran of the
Mexican War. He was a member of a Louisiana family of distinguished
French lineage. Late captain in the U. S. Army, he had served briefly as
superintendent of the U. S. Military Academy at West Point as recently
as January. Once, years back, he had studied artillery there under Major
Anderson. Now, pupil confronted master.
[Illustration: _President Abraham Lincoln wanted his inaugural
address to convey a conciliatory message to the South. Most
Southerners, however, like Emma Holmes of Charleston, thought it
“stupid, ambiguous, vulgar and insolent” and “a virtual declaration
of war.” When Lincoln decided to send supplies to Anderson,
Confederate efforts to force the evacuation of Sumter took on new
urgency._]
When Abraham Lincoln assumed office as President of the United States on
March 4, he made it clear in a firm but generally conciliatory inaugural
address that national authority must be upheld against the threat of
disunion. As to the Federal forts and property in the seceded States, he
said: “The power confided to me will be used to hold, occupy, and
possess the property and places belonging to the Government....” (He did
not say “repossess.”) Furthermore, there need be “no bloodshed or
violence” as the result of this policy “unless it be forced upon the
national authority.” The President concluded:
_In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is
the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will not assail you.
You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You
have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the Government, while I
shall have the most solemn one to ‘preserve, protect, and defend’ it._
The Sumter situation was placed squarely before Lincoln on the day he
assumed office. On the morning of Inaugural Day outgoing Secretary of
War Holt received a dispatch from Major Anderson indicating that the
remainder of the “issue” rations brought over from Fort Moultrie in
December would last only a few more weeks. He might be able to hold out
longer if he was able to maintain his local fresh food supply, but if
that were cut off, the garrison would be in desperate straits. As to
reenforcements, given the state of local Confederate preparations, an
estimated force of 20,000 men would now be needed to return Federal
authority to Charleston Harbor. Given these circumstances, reenforcement
was out of the question. The entire Army of the United States numbered
less than 16,000 men. “Evacuation seems almost inevitable,” wrote
General in Chief Winfield Scott; the majority of Lincoln’s Cabinet
agreed. The President, however, was not yet willing to concede that
point and sent Capt. Gustavus W. Fox, onetime U.S. Navy officer and long
an advocate of a relief expedition, to Charleston to talk directly with
Anderson. In the meantime, reassured by Secretary of State William
Seward and others, the South came to believe that Fort Sumter would be
evacuated.
[Illustration: _Confederate President Jefferson Davis likewise
sought to temper the growing sectional dispute, and sent
commissioners to Washington to try to settle “all questions of
disagreement between the two governments.” When the commissioners
informed him that the Lincoln government “declines to recognize our
official character or the power we represent,” Davis ordered
Beauregard to demand Sumter’s surrender—“and if this is refused
proceed ... to reduce it.”_]
On April 4, Lincoln’s Secretary of War, Simon Cameron, informed Major
Anderson that an attempt would be made to supply him with provisions
“and, in case the effort is resisted ... to reenforce you.” Convinced
from Captain Fox’s on-the-spot reports that such an expedition was
feasible, and that there was no Union sentiment in South Carolina to
which to appeal, Lincoln had decided on the nearest thing to preserving
the _status quo_. Merchant steamers under cover of ships of war would
carry “subsistence and other supplies” to Anderson; the warships (with
troop reinforcements on board) would be used only if a peaceable landing
were opposed. Fox would command. Meanwhile, in accordance with a pledge
already given, the governor of South Carolina would be carefully
informed in advance.
The announcement of the expedition to supply Fort Sumter was the spark
that set off the explosive forces which had been building up since 1850.
The Confederate capital at Montgomery was informed. Anderson’s supply of
fresh provisions had already been cut off on the 7th; now, his mail was
seized.
Work was pushed on the harbor fortifications. A new battery mounting two
24-pounders and two 32-pounders was unmasked on Sullivans Island;
another ironclad battery was put into position at its western tip.
Originally designed to be “floating,” this battery mounted two heavy
42-pounders in addition to two 32-pounders. Near Mount Pleasant another
(10-inch) mortar battery was installed. At Fort Moultrie, 11 guns now
bore on Fort Sumter, including three 8-inch Columbiads. Additional guns
were mounted to command the harbor channels and to guard against
landings by the Federal fleet. Three thousand more Confederate troops
were called, bringing the number already on the post to 3,700. The
harbor seethed with activity.
“The gage is thrown down,” said the Charleston _Mercury_, “and we accept
the challenge. We will meet the invader, and God and Battle must decide
the issue between the hirelings of Abolition hate and Northern tyranny,
and the people of South Carolina defending their freedom and their
homes.” A small 12-pounder Blakely rifled cannon arrived from England—a
gift of a Charlestonian residing in London. Mounted at Cummings Point,
it proved an ominous forerunner of the powerful rifled guns that two
years later would reduce Fort Sumter to rubble.
After cabinet debate in Montgomery, the Confederate Secretary of War,
Leroy Pope Walker, ordered General Beauregard to demand the evacuation
of the fort, and if that demand was refused, to “reduce it.” On the
afternoon of April 11, three of Beauregard’s aides visited the fort
under a flag of truce and presented the ultimatum. Major Anderson
refused compliance but at the same time said, “Gentlemen, if you do not
batter the fort to pieces about us, we shall be starved out in a few
days.” Still reluctant to initiate conflict, the Montgomery government
telegraphed Beauregard:
_Do not desire needlessly to bombard Fort Sumter. If Major Anderson will
state the time at which ... he will evacuate, and agree that in the
meantime he will not use his guns against us unless ours should be
employed against Fort Sumter, you are authorized thus to avoid the
effusion of blood. If this or its equivalent be refused, reduce the
fort_....
The atmosphere in Charleston was tense. In at least one household,
dinner was the “merriest, maddest ... yet. Men were more audaciously
wise and witty. We had an unspoken foreboding it was to be our last
pleasant meeting.”
[Illustration: _Gen. P.G.T. Beauregard told Confederate Secretary of
War Leroy Pope Walker that “if Sumter was properly garrisoned and
armed, it would be a perfect Gibralter to anything but constant
shelling, night and day, from the four points of the compass. As it
is, the weakness of the garrison constitutes our greatest advantage,
and we must, for the present, turn our attention to preventing it
from being re-enforced ... but, should we have to open our batteries
upon it, I hope to be able to do so with all the advantage the
condition of things here will permit.” The map, taken from_ Harper’s
Weekly, _shows Fort Sumter and the Confederate batteries erected
against it in 1861. Beauregard’s view of Sumter as a Gibralter was
confirmed during the 1863-65 siege of Charleston._]
_Among the members of Beauregard’s staff who took part in the
negotiations with Major Anderson prior to the bombardment of Fort
Sumter were two South Carolinians—Capt. Stephen D. Lee, a
28-year-old West Point graduate and an officer in the South Carolina
volunteers, and Col. James Chesnut, 46-year-old former U.S. Senator
but now a member of the Confederate Congress._
[Illustration: _Capt. Stephen D. Lee_]
[Illustration: _Col. James Chesnut_]
Shortly after midnight, four Confederate officers confronted Anderson
again. About three hours later, in a carefully worded reply, the Union
commander agreed to evacuate “by noon on the 15th” unless he should
receive prior to that time “controlling instructions from my Government
or additional supplies.” But it was expected in Charleston that the
Federal supply ships would arrive before the 15th. Anderson’s reply was
rejected by the Confederate officers, who proceeded at once to Fort
Johnson to give the order to open fire.
At 4:30 a.m., a mortar shell from Fort Johnson arched across the sky and
burst almost directly over Fort Sumter. This was the signal for opening
the bombardment. Within a few minutes, a ring of cannons and mortars
about the harbor—43 in all—were firing at Sumter. Major Anderson
withheld fire until about 7 o’clock. Then Capt. Abner Doubleday,
Anderson’s second in command, fired a shot at the ironclad battery on
Cummings Point. Ominously, the light shot “bounded off from the sloping
roof ... without producing any apparent effect.” Not at any time during
the battle did the guns of Fort Sumter do great damage to the
Confederate defenses. Most of Fort Sumter’s heaviest guns were on the
parapet and in the parade. To reduce casualties in the small garrison,
Anderson ordered these left unmanned. For a while, with the help of the
engineer workmen remaining at the fort, nine or ten of the casemate guns
were manned. But by noon, the expenditure of ammunition was so rapid
that the firing was restricted to six guns only. Meanwhile, an
eyewitness later recorded,
_Showers of balls from 10-inch Columbiads and 42 pounders, and shells
from [10-] inch mortars poured into the fort in one incessant stream,
causing great flakes of masonry to fall in all directions. When the
immense mortar shells, after sailing high in the air, came down in a
vertical direction, and buried themselves in the parade ground, their
explosion shook the fort like an earthquake_.
All Charleston watched. Business was entirely suspended. King Street was
deserted. The Battery, the wharves and shipping, and “every steeple and
cupola in the city” were crowded with anxious spectators. And “never
before had such crowds of ladies without attendants” visited the streets
of Charleston. “The women were wild” on the housetops. In the darkness
before dawn there were “Prayers from the women and imprecations from the
men; and then a shell would light up the scene.” As the day advanced,
the city became rife with rumors: “Tonight, they say, the forces are to
attempt to land. The _Harriet Lane_ had her wheel house smashed and put
back to sea.... We hear nothing, can listen to nothing. Boom boom goes
the cannon all the time. The nervous strain is awful....” Volunteers
rushed to join their companies. There was “Stark Means marching under
the piazza at the head of his regiment ...,” his proud mother leaning
over the balcony rail “looking with tearful eyes.” Two members of the
Palmetto Guard paid $50 for a boat to carry them to Morris Island.
The barracks at Fort Sumter caught fire three times that first day, but
each time the fire was extinguished. One gun on the parapet was
dismounted; another was damaged. The wall about one embrasure was
shattered to a depth of 20 inches. That was caused, in part, by the
Blakely rifle, firing with “the accuracy of a duelling pistol.” The
quarters on the gorge were completely riddled. When night came, dark and
stormy, Fort Sumter’s fire ceased entirely. Using the six needles
available, the work of making cartridge bags continued; blankets, old
clothing, extra hospital sheets, and even paper, were used in the
emergency. Meantime, the supply fleet, off the bar since the onset of
hostilities, did no more than maintain its position. It had been
crippled upon departure when Seward’s meddling caused withdrawal of the
powerful warship _Powhatan_. Now, bad weather prevented even a minimum
supporting operation.
[Illustration: _Ardent Virginia secessionist Edmund Ruffin has long
been credited by some historians with firing the first shot against
Fort Sumter. The honor actually belongs to Capt. George S. James,
commander of the 10-inch mortar batteries on James Island, who
ordered the signal shell fired from Fort Johnson. Ruffin, however,
did fire the first shot from the Ironclad Battery on Cummings
Point._]
[Illustration: _Capt. (later Gen.) Abner Doubleday, who directed the
first return shot from Fort Sumter._]
On the morning of the 13th, Sumter opened “early and spitefully,” and,
with the increased supply of cartridges, kept up a brisk fire for a
while. About mid-morning “hotshot” (solid cannonballs heated red hot)
set fire to the officers’ quarters. The Confederate fire then increased;
soon the whole extent of the quarters was in flames, endangering the
powder magazines. The blaze spread to the barracks. By noon the fort was
almost uninhabitable. The men crowded to the embrasures for air or lay
on the ground with handkerchiefs over their mouths. Valiant efforts by
Anderson’s men had saved some of the powder before the onrush of the
flames forced the closing of the magazines, and the fort’s defenders
continued to fire. At every shot, Beauregard later reported, the
Confederate troops, “carried away by their natural generous impulses,
mounted the different batteries, and ... cheered the garrison for its
pluck and gallantry and hooted the fleet lying inactive just outside the
bar.”
[Illustration: _Charlestonians—men, women, and children—watch from
the rooftops as Confederate batteries bombard Sumter. Anderson’s
delay in returning the fire caused many to believe that he did not
intend to respond at all—a situation which, in Edmund Ruffin’s view,
“would have cheapened our conquest.”_]
About 1:30 in the afternoon the flag was shot down. Almost accidentally,
this led to surrender. By authority of Gen. James Simons, commanding on
Morris Island, Col. Louis T. Wigfall, a former Texas senator and now one
of Beauregard’s aides detached for duty at that spot, set out by small
boat to ascertain whether Anderson would capitulate. Before he arrived
at the beleaguered fort, the United States flag was again flying, but
Wigfall rowed on. The firing continued from the batteries across the
harbor. Attaching a white handkerchief to the point of his sword,
Wigfall entered the fort through an embrasure on the left flank and
offered the Federal commander any terms he desired, the precise nature
of which would have to be arranged with General Beauregard. Anderson
accepted on the basis of Beauregard’s original terms: evacuation with
his command, taking arms and all private and company property, saluting
the United States flag as it was lowered, and being conveyed, if
desired, to a Northern port. The white flag went up again; the firing
ceased. Wigfall departed confident that Anderson had surrendered
unconditionally. He and his boatman were borne ashore in triumph.
[Illustration: _Louis T. Wigfall, the Yankee-hating former U.S.
Senator from Texas, who unofficially negotiated and received
Anderson’s surrender of Fort Sumter._]
Meanwhile, officers had arrived at the fort from General Beauregard’s
headquarters in Charleston. From these men, dispatched to offer
assistance to the Federal commander, Anderson learned that Wigfall’s
action was unauthorized; that, indeed, the colonel had not seen the
commanding general since the start of the battle. From another party of
officers he learned Beauregard’s exact terms of surrender. They failed
to include the privilege of saluting the flag, though in all other
respects they were the same as those Anderson had believed he had
accepted from Wigfall. Impetuously, Anderson had first declared he would
run up his flag again. Then, restrained by Beauregard’s aides, he waited
while his request for permission to salute the flag was conveyed to the
commanding general. In the course of the afternoon, Beauregard
courteously sent over a fire engine from the city. About 7:30 that
evening, Beauregard’s chief of staff returned with word that Anderson’s
request would be granted and the terms offered on the 11th would be
faithfully adhered to. The engagement was officially at an end. During
the 34-hour bombardment, more than 3,000 shells had been hurled at the
fort.
The Fort Sumter Flags
When Maj. Robert Anderson transferred his small Federal garrison from
Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter on the night of December 26, 1860, he
took with him not only needed supplies and equipment but the two flags
of his command—the 20-by-36-foot garrison flag, which he carried
himself, and the smaller storm flag used during bad weather. At noon
on December 27, following a prayer of thanksgiving for their safe
arrival (shown in the painting), the garrison flag was raised above
Sumter.
[Illustration: Prayer of thanksgiving for safe arrival]
[Illustration: ①]
[Illustration: ②]
[Illustration: ③]
The garrison flag (the remnants of which are shown in photograph no.
1) continued to mark Anderson’s occupation of the fort until April 11,
1861, when, having become torn, it was replaced by the 10-foot by
20-foot storm flag (no. 2) which flew during the subsequent two-day
bombardment.
After the fort’s surrender on April 14, Anderson took both flags with
him to New York City. There, following their display in a massive
patriotic demonstration in Union Square, they were boxed up and placed
in storage. The flags remained with the Anderson family until 1905,
when they were presented to then Secretary of War William Howard Taft.
The War Department transferred them to the National Park Service in
1954. They are now part of the collections of Fort Sumter National
Monument. A third flag in the park’s collection is the 6-foot by
9-foot flag of the Palmetto Guards (no. 3), which was the first
Southern banner to be raised over Sumter’s walls after Anderson’s
evacuation.
On Sunday, April 14, Anderson and his garrison marched out of the fort
with drums beating and colors flying and boarded the steamer _Isabel_ to
join the Federal fleet off the bar. The only fatality of the engagement
occurred just prior to leaving when, on the 47th round of what was to
have been a 100-gun salute to the United States flag, one of the guns
discharged prematurely, exploding a pile of cartridges and causing the
death of Pvt. Daniel Hough. Another man, Pvt. Edward Galloway, was
mortally wounded and died several days later. The 50th round was the
last. Now, as the _Isabel_ carrying Anderson’s command steamed down the
channel, the soldiers at the Confederate battery on Cummings Point lined
the beach, heads uncovered, in silent tribute to Sumter’s defenders.
The following day, April 15, 1861, President Lincoln issued a call for
75,000 militia. Soon the States of Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee, and
North Carolina joined the Confederacy. Civil war, so long dreaded, had
begun.
The Struggle for Charleston, 1863-65
With Fort Sumter in Confederate hands, the port of Charleston became an
irritating loophole in the Federal naval blockade of the Atlantic
coast—doubly so because at Charleston “rebellion first lighted the flame
of civil war.” As late as January 1863, vessels plied to and from
Charleston and the Bahamas “with the certainty and promptness of a
regular line,” bringing needed war supplies in exchange for cotton.
Capture of Port Royal Harbor on November 7, 1861, by a Federal fleet
under Capt. Samuel F. Du Pont, however, had made possible land and sea
operations against Charleston. In June 1862, an attempt was made by
Federal Maj. Gen. David Hunter to push through to the city by James
Island on the south. This ended in Union disaster at the bloody battle
of Secessionville. Meanwhile, the _Monitor-Virginia_ (_Merrimack_)
action in Hampton Roads had demonstrated the feasibility of an
“ironclad” naval expedition against Fort Sumter, the key to the harbor.
Sumter, rebuilt and strengthened, was now a formidable work armed with
some 95 guns and garrisoned with upwards of 500 men. By May 1862, the
Navy Department seemed possessed of what then Rear Admiral Du Pont was
calling a “morbid appetite” to capture Charleston. But the War
Department, far from supplying the additional troops to Hunter’s
command, withdrew units to reenforce Gen. George B. McClellan’s army in
its campaign against Richmond, the Confederate capital.
On April 5, 1863, a fleet of nine Federal ironclads, armed with 32
heavy-caliber guns, appeared off Charleston bar. Seven were of the
single-turret “cheesebox on a raft” _Monitor_-type; one, the _Keokuk_,
was a double-turreted affair; and the last, the flagship _New
Ironsides_, was an ironclad frigate. With ebb tide on the afternoon of
the 7th, the “new-fangled” ironclads steamed single-file up the main
ship channel east of Morris Island. The weather was clear and bright;
the water “as stable as of a river.” By 3 o’clock, the _Weehawken_, the
leading monitor, had come within range, and Fort Moultrie opened fire.
The _Passaic_, second in line, responded. Fort Sumter held fire, its
guns trained on a buoy at the turn of the channel. When the _Weehawken_
came abreast of that point, Sumter’s right flank guns let loose. These
were followed by all the guns on Sullivans Island, at Fort Moultrie, and
at Cummings Point that could be brought to bear.
[Illustration: _The repulse of the navy’s April 7, 1863, attempt to
capture Charleston (depicted in a contemporary engraving from_
Harper’s Weekly_) persuaded Du Pont “that the place cannot be taken
by a purely naval attack.” The admiral’s pessimism about ironclad
ships of war and his decision not to renew the attack on Charleston
angered the Navy Department and led to his removal from command._]
[Illustration: _Rear Adm. Samuel F. Du Pont, commander of the South
Atlantic Blockading Squadron._]
It was too much for the slow and unwieldy ironclads. In the course of
the 2½-hour fight, only one came within 900 yards of Fort Sumter. To the
2,209 rounds hurled against them, the ironclads were able to return 154,
only 34 of which found the target. These breached and loosened 25 feet
of the right flank parapet and pocked the walls elsewhere with craters
up to 2½ feet deep. But it was far from enough; Fort Sumter remained
strong and secure. On the other hand, five of the ironclads were
seriously disabled by the accurate Confederate fire, and one, the
_Keokuk_, sank the following morning in the shallow water off Morris
Island. Confederate troops later recovered the guns of the _Keokuk_ and
mounted one of them at Fort Sumter.
The North, confident of victory, was stunned by Du Pont’s failure at a
time when the general military situation was gloomy. The war in the East
had been bloody and indecisive; the news from the West was no better.
Federal authorities now looked to a combined operation to seize Morris
Island and from there demolish Fort Sumter. With Fort Sumter reduced,
the harbor could be entered.
Folly Island and Coles Island, next south of Morris Island, had been
occupied by Northern troops just prior to the naval attack. In June and
July, the north end of Folly Island was fortified. In a remarkable
operation, 47 guns and mortars were secretly emplaced “within speaking
distance of the enemy’s pickets.” Some 11,000 men were concentrated on
the island. Brig. Gen. Quincy A. Gillmore, the “breacher” of Fort
Pulaski, took command on June 12. Rear Adm. John A. Dahlgren superseded
Admiral Du Pont on July 6.
During that time the Confederates mounted guns at the south end of
Morris Island and strengthened the earthworks at its upper end—Battery
Gregg at Cummings Point and Battery Wagner some 1,400 yards to the
south. The latter work, commanding the island at its narrowest point,
was made into a formidable “sand fort” mounting about 15 guns.
[Illustration: _Maj. Gen. Quincy A. Gillmore, commander of the
Federal land forces besieging Charleston, 1863-64. In the year that
he spent at Charleston, Gillmore and Du Pont’s replacement, Rear
Adm. John A. Dahlgren, conducted a cooperative and sustained
operation that resulted in the capture of Morris Island and Battery
Wagner and the virtual demolition of Fort Sumter._]
[Illustration: _Rear Adm. John A. Dahlgren_]
Fort Sumter, 1,390 yards distant from Battery Gregg, prepared for siege,
too. Brick and stone masonry “counter-forts,” already built at each
extremity of the esplanade as protection for the magazines, were now
strengthened, and much of the remaining gorge exterior was sandbagged or
otherwise protected. The casemates on the right or sea front flank were
filled with sand, and the rooms on the gorge were filled with damp
cotton bales laid in sand. The upper-tier magazines were abandoned and
filled with sandbags to protect the magazines below. Protective
revetments and other defensive devices were introduced at various points
throughout the fort. Frequently during this period the garrison was host
to officers on leave, citizens of Charleston, and even many ladies, who
came to see the scars of the April battle, to admire the drill, or to
observe the preparations. At the end of June 1863, Fort Sumter was
garrisoned by five companies (perhaps 500 men) of the First South
Carolina Artillery, under command of Col. Alfred Rhett. Its armament had
been reduced to 68 guns and mortars, many of the best pieces having been
removed to strengthen other fortifications about the harbor.
On the morning of July 10, 3,000 Union infantry, supported by four
monitors and the artillery on Folly Island, descended on the southern
end of Morris Island. Directing the attack was Brig. Gen. Truman
Seymour, a company commander at Fort Sumter two years before. Within
four hours, most of the Island was in his hands. The Confederate forces,
outgunned and outmanned, fell back to Battery Wagner. Sumter’s guns
helped to cover their retreat.
A “desperate” assault upon Wagner the next morning failed, though the
parapet was briefly gained. General Gillmore established
counter-batteries and tried again on the 18th. From noon until nightfall
that day, “without cessation or intermission,” Federal guns poured a
“storm of shot and shell upon Fort Wagner ... perhaps unequalled in
history.” This was followed by an attack by some 6,000 troops,
spearheaded by the 54th Massachusetts, the first U.S. black regiment to
go to war. In a short, savage struggle, Seymour’s force suffered 1,500
casualties. Though one angle of the fort was gained and held for a time,
the attack was repulsed.
[Illustration: _Part of Gillmore’s map of the Charleston defenses._]
[Illustration: _Col. Alfred Rhett commanded Fort Sumter during the
April 1863 ironclad attack and the first great bombardment of
August-September._]
[Illustration: _Brig. Gen. Truman Seymour, who served at Fort Sumter
under Anderson in 1860-61, commanded the assault troops that
captured Morris Island in July 1863. He was severely wounded in the
subsequent attack on Battery Wagner._]
Thwarted in his plan to secure easy possession of Morris Island as a
base for breaching operations against Fort Sumter, Gillmore now
determined to batter the fort into submission from the ground he already
possessed. Batteries Wagner and Gregg would be taken by protracted siege
operations. Anticipating that Sumter was “liable to be silenced sooner
or later” and fearing attack at other points about the harbor,
Confederate authorities continued to remove the fort’s guns and
ammunition for use elsewhere. By mid-August, Sumter’s armament was
reduced to 38 cannon and two mortars.
At distances of 2 to 2½ miles from Fort Sumter—distances extraordinary
for such operations—Gillmore set up eight batteries of heavy rifled
cannon. In the marsh west of Morris Island, where the mud was like
liquid, his engineers successfully placed a 200-pounder Parrott
rifle—the notorious “Swamp Angel”—to fire on Charleston.
Gillmore’s batteries did some experimental firing in late July and early
August, testing the range and the effects of their shots on Sumter. The
real bombardment began on August 17, with nearly 1,000 shells being
fired that first day alone. Almost 5,000 more were fired during the week
that followed. Even at the end of the first day it was obvious that the
fort was never intended to withstand the heavy Parrotts. Three days
later, a monstrous 13-ton Parrott rifle hurling 250-pound shells was
added to Gillmore’s armament, making 18 rifled cannon in action. The
range kept Sumter from replying to the land batteries, and the monitors
appeared only fleetingly.
On the 21st, with the “Swamp Angel” in position, Gillmore demanded the
evacuation of Fort Sumter and Morris Island. Otherwise he would fire on
Charleston. The ultimatum was unsigned, however, and before the
Confederates could confirm its origin, Gillmore had opened fire. But
little damage had been done when, on the 36th round, the “Swamp Angel”
burst. Meanwhile, Beauregard had delivered an indignant reply. The
bombardment of Sumter continued.
Early on the 23d, against Dahlgren’s ironclads, Fort Sumter fired what
proved to be its last shots in action. Its brick masonry walls were
shattered and undermined; a breach 8 by 10 feet yawned in the upper
casemates of the left face; at points, the sloped debris of the walls
already provided a practicable route for assault. Still, the Confederate
garrison, supplemented by a force of 200 to 400 blacks, labored night
and day, strengthening and repairing the defenses. The debris,
accumulating above the sand- and cotton-filled rooms, itself bolstered
the crumbling walls. By the 24th, Gillmore was able to report the
“practical demolition” of the fort. On the 26th General Beauregard
ordered the fort held “to the last extremity.”
The bombardment continued sporadically during the following week. On the
night of September 1-2, the ironclads moved against the fort—the first
major naval operation against Fort Sumter since the preceding April. For
five hours, the frigate _New Ironsides_ and five monitors bombarded the
fort, now without a gun with which to answer the “sneaking sea-devils.”
Two hundred and forty-five shot and shell were hurled against the
ruins—twice as many as were thrown in the April attack. The tidal
conditions, plus a “rapid and sustained” fire from Fort Moultrie, forced
the monitors to withdraw.
Some desultory firing on the 2d brought to an end the first sustained
bombardment of Fort Sumter. More than 7,300 rounds had been hurled
against the fort since August 17. Now, with the fort reduced to a
“shapeless and harmless mass of ruins,” the Federals could concentrate
on Battery Wagner, only 100 yards from Gillmore’s forward trenches.
On the morning of September 5, Federal cannoneers began a devastating
barrage against Battery Wagner. For 42 hours, night and day, in what
General Gillmore called a spectacle “of surpassing sublimity and
grandeur,” 17 mortars and nine rifled cannon, as well as the powerful
guns of the ironclads, pounded the earthwork. Calcium lights turned
night into day. On the night of September 6-7, the Confederates
evacuated Wagner and Gregg. Morris Island was at last in Union hands.
Fort Sumter, however, remained defiant. When Dahlgren demanded the
fort’s surrender, on the morning of the 7th, General Beauregard sent
word that the admiral could have it when he could “take it and hold it.”
On September 4 the garrison had been relieved by fresh troops, 320
strong. Maj. Stephen Elliott succeeded to the command.
The Fight for Battery Wagner
[Illustration: Battery Wagner]
On July 10, 1863, Union forces successfully invaded Morris Island, a
narrow stretch of land which formed the southern entrance to
Charleston Harbor. The Confederate defenders were pushed back nearly 3
miles to a strong fortification known as Battery Wagner, whose heavy
guns commanded nearly the entire length of the island. Gen. Quincy A.
Gillmore knew that this fort would have to be taken if Morris Island
was to serve as a base of operations against Charleston.
Accordingly, at dusk on July 18th, three Union brigades numbering
about 6,000 men commanded by Gen. Truman Seymour assembled for an
assault on Battery Wagner. Assigned to lead the column was Col. Robert
Gould Shaw’s 54th Massachusetts Infantry, composed of 600 free-black
men recruited from various Northern States. “We shall take the fort or
die there!” shouted Colonel Shaw as Seymour ordered the troops
forward.
[Illustration: _Col. Robert Gould Shaw_]
Wagner’s artillery opened fire when the Federals were within 200 yards
of the battery. Then the fort’s defenders, North and South Carolina
troops, let fly a volley of musketry that tore huge gaps in the Union
ranks. Those who survived this terrible fire, having reached the ditch
in front of the fort, sloshed through 3 feet of water and scrambled up
the walls of the parapet bravely waving both the national flag and the
Massachusetts State colors. Shaw himself gained the rampart and
shouted, “Forward, Fifty-fourth!”, then fell dead with a bullet in his
heart.
Now other Federal regiments joined in the attack, but after several
hours of desperate fighting, including hand-to-hand combat on Wagner’s
parapet, the Federals were driven back. Bodies lay piled three deep in
front of the fort and 9 of the 10 Union regimental commanders were
killed or wounded. The 54th Massachusetts alone lost nearly 40 percent
of the men engaged.
Battery Wagner finally came into Union hands on September 6, 1863,
after the Confederates were ordered to evacuate Morris Island
entirely. Contrary to Northern expectations, Fort Sumter and the city
of Charleston did not fall into Federal possession until February
1865.
[Illustration: _Maj. Stephen Elliott, one-time captain of the
Beaufort (Light) Artillery, assumed command of the Fort Sumter ruins
in September 1863 at the personal request of General Beauregard.
Elliott remained in charge until May 1864, when he was transferred
to command a regiment in Virginia_.]
Dahlgren “immediately designed to put into operation a plan to capture
Fort Sumter.” Accordingly the monitor _Weehawken_ was ordered “to cut
off all communication” via Cummings Point, while _New Ironsides_ and the
remaining ironclads moved up “to feel, and if possible, pass” the
obstructions thought to be in the channel north of the fort. But
_Weehawken_ grounded, and the monitors caught such a severe fire from
Fort Moultrie and the other Confederate batteries on Sullivans Island,
that the admiral “deemed it best to give [his] entire attention to the
_Weehawken_” and withdraw. Whatever his original plan, Dahlgren now
decided upon a small-boat assault. The task seemed simple: with “nothing
but a corporal’s guard in the fort,” all he had to do was “go and take
possession.”
On the night of September 8-9, 400 sailors and marines made the attempt.
A tug towed the small boats within 800 yards of the fort, then cast them
loose. In the darkness and confusion, plans went awry and two columns
advanced simultaneously upon the right flank of the fort. The
Confederates coolly held their fire till the Federals in the lead boats
began to land, then let loose with musketry, hand grenades, “fire
balls,” grape and canister, brickbats, and masonry fragments. At a
signal from the fort, the Confederate gunboat _Chicora_ steamed out from
the harbor and opened fire; Fort Moultrie “fired like a devil.”
From the outer boats, the marines replied rapidly for a few minutes.
Some of the sailors ashore fired a few shots from their revolvers, but
most sought refuge in the embrasures or breaches in the wall. It was all
over in 20 minutes. Most of the boats did not even touch shore. The
Federal loss was 124 killed, wounded, and captured, and five boats were
taken. A similar expedition from Gillmore’s command was detained by low
tide in a creek west of Morris Island. Service rivalry had prevented
active cooperation that might have resulted in victory.
Except for a six-day bombardment of “minor” proportions late in
September, Fort Sumter was free of attack for almost two months. Damages
sustained by the monitors in the Morris Island operation, as much as
Fort Moultrie’s increased firepower and the fear of channel obstructions
(a menace which later proved to be greatly exaggerated), made Admiral
Dahlgren reluctant to make another move at this time. General Gillmore,
engaged now in rebuilding and rearming the captured Confederate
batteries on Cummings Point, thought he had accomplished his part of the
operation. In his opinion, Fort Sumter was effectively reduced; its
actual seizure and occupation would be costly and unnecessary; besides,
the reinforcements needed for such an undertaking were not available
anyway. Indeed, with the Confederate surrender of Vicksburg and the
defeat of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s army at Gettysburg, Charleston had
suddenly become much less important. Gillmore contemplated no further
offensive operations by his forces.
On October 26, having learned that the Confederates were remounting some
of Sumter’s guns, Gillmore resumed the bombardment. For the next 12
days, the concentration of fire was comparable to the great bombardment
of the preceding August. But now, with the new batteries on Cummings
Point in operation and the range shortened to less than a mile, the
effect was far greater. For the first time, 16 heavy mortars were in
use—two of them 8½-ton pieces (13-inch bore) throwing 200-pound
projectiles. Their sharp, plunging fire was added to that of 12 Parrott
rifles—the types already used so effectively against the fort—and one
powerful Columbiad. In addition, two monitors, with guns “equal to a
dozen” Parrotts, crossed fire with Gillmore’s artillery.
Sumter’s sea front (right flank), upright and relatively unscathed till
now, was breached for nearly half its length. The ramparts and arches of
its upper casemates were cut down and the interior barracks demolished.
The accumulated debris made ascent easy inside and out. Through the
breach, the Federal guns took the channel fronts in reverse. Exposed to
direct fire for the first time, they were soon cut and jagged. Still,
the gorge ruin remained much the same; to Admiral Dahlgren, that “heap
of rubbish” looked invincible.
Night and day throughout November and into December, Gillmore’s
batteries, assisted occasionally by the monitors, maintained a slow fire
against the fort. Sumter could respond with merely “harmless musketry,”
but its defenders seemed “snug in the ruins.” And if Sumter was without
cannons, Confederate batteries on James and Sullivans Islands kept up an
irritating counterfire.
Sumter Under Fire
[Illustration: Fort Sumter, from the northern tip of Morris Island]
By August 23, 1863, when the photograph was taken, General Gillmore’s
siege guns had been firing at Fort Sumter continuously for a week in
what came to be known as the “First Great Bombardment.” By then,
according to Gen. J. W. Turner, Gillmore’s chief of artillery, “The
demolition of the fort ... was complete so far as its offensive powers
were considered. Every gun upon the parapet was either dismounted or
seriously damaged. The parapet could be seen in many places both on
the sea and channel faces to be completely torn away from the
_terre-plein_. The place, in fine, was a ruin, and effectually
disabled for any immediate defense of the harbor of Charleston.”
General Turner’s assessment of Fort Sumter’s “demolition” proved
premature. Thanks to the efforts of its garrison over the next several
months, the fort was transformed, according to chief engineer Maj.
John Johnson, from “a shapeless pile of shattered walls and casemates,
showing here and there the guns disabled and half buried in splintered
wrecks of carriages, its mounds of rubbish fairly reeking with the
smoke and smell of powder, ... into a powerful earthwork, impregnable
to assault, and even supporting the other works at the entrance of
Charleston harbor with six guns of the heaviest caliber.”
[Illustration: The damage caused to the fort’s interior during
Gillmore’s “First Great Bombardment” is evident in the remarkable
“action” photograph, taken by Charleston photographer George S. Cook
on September 8, 1863, just as a shell from the Federal ironclad
_Weehawken_ burst on the rubble-strewn parade ground during Admiral
Dahlgren’s naval assault on the harbor batteries.]
[Illustration: _Maj. John A. Johnson, commanding engineer at Fort
Sumter during the 1863-65 Confederate occupation._]
On November 6, the Confederate engineer at Fort Sumter, Maj. John
Johnson, reported that while the height of the mass of the fort was
“diminishing visibly on the sides away from the city, when it gets down
to the lower casemates it will have become so thick from accumulated
debris as to resist further battering.” Two weeks later, he found the
fort stronger than ever, with casualties surprisingly low—only two men
were killed in the August bombardment and only 22 more since the start
of the present one; 118 had been wounded. Johnson was not fearful of
being driven out by the big Federal guns, but rather “exposure to
assault from barges at night.”
In mid-November such an attack seemed to be forthcoming. During the
early hours of the 18th, the defenders of the fort had four distinct
alarms as small boats approached within hailing distance; “all hands out
each time and expecting a fight.” On the following night, a force
estimated at 250 men approached within 300 yards of the fort, only to be
driven off by the muskets of the aroused garrison. This was not,
however, a real attack but only a reconnaissance ordered by Gillmore
“with a view to compel the garrison to show its strength.” Having done
that, he would now wait for the Navy to make the next move.
But Admiral Dahlgren could not move until the repairs on the monitors
were finished, and as late as January 1864 these still were not
completed. Even so, confronted with reports of greatly strengthened
harbor fortifications and a growing concern over the exact nature of the
harbor obstructions, he was reluctant to move without additional
monitors. Defeat was always possible, and defeat for the Union’s only
ironclad squadron might have serious consequences—not only for the
blockade and Gillmore’s command on Morris Island, but for operations
elsewhere along the coast. Nevertheless, substantial advantages had
already been gained: the blockade at Charleston was tighter with Morris
Island in Federal hands. To all this, the Navy Department agreed.
Elsewhere, while Dahlgren and Gillmore marked time, the war gathered
momentum. In November 1863, the North won decisively at Chattanooga.
The additional monitors, always promised, never seemed to arrive. On
December 5, General Gillmore stopped the bombardment of Fort Sumter
begun 41 days earlier. There seemed no great advantage in continuing,
and it required considerable ammunition. He had made his last sustained
effort against the fort. On only four other days in December did he fire
any rounds at all. During the four months he remained in command, the
firing was intermittent, never more than “minor” in character.
Meanwhile, Gen. Ulysses S. Grant’s forthcoming operations in Virginia
required all available troops. On May 1, 1864, Gillmore departed for
Fort Monroe with 18,000 picked men and quantities of valuable matériel.
Dahlgren’s much-needed monitors never did arrive (Grant needed those,
too) and, with the monitor force he did have reduced to six by the
foundering of the _Weehawken_ in December, further offensive operations
against Charleston seemed completely out of the question. In June, the
ironclad frigate _New Ironsides_ was withdrawn to the north.
In the preceding December, Fort Sumter had been an almost chaotic ruin.
But with the fort practically left alone during the months immediately
following, the garrison gradually restored order from chaos. The parade
ground, excavated well below high-water level to provide sand-filling,
was cleared, drained, and partially rebuilt. Trim ranks of gabions
(wicker baskets filled with sand) bolstered the sloping debris of the
walls on the interior. The three-gun battery in the lower right face was
lined with logs and planks, 10 feet deep, and revetted more thoroughly
in the rear. In casemates on the left flank another three-gun battery
was created. Through the disordered debris of the left and right faces,
the garrison tunneled a 275-foot timbered gallery connecting the two
batteries and fort headquarters in the left flank. And in from the
rubble of the sea front, the garrison built a loopholed timber
blockhouse to cover the parade ground in the event of further assault.
In May, Capt. John C. Mitchel, son of the Irish patriot, relieved Lt.
Col. Stephen Elliott in command.
The onset of summer, 1864, brought one more attempt to take Fort Sumter;
likewise another officer of the original Fort Sumter garrison came into
the operation. Maj. Gen. John G. Foster, engineer of the fort in April
1861, had succeeded to Gillmore’s command on May 26 and was convinced
that “with proper arrangements” the fort could easily be taken “at any
time.” The proper arrangements included special light-draught steamers
and 1,000-man “assaulting arks” equipped with 51-foot scaling ladders
and elevated towers for sharpshooters. Though initial War Department
reaction was cool, Foster went ahead with a preliminary operation to
complete the demolition of the fort. “Yankee ingenuity” might succeed
where routine operations had failed or been judged too costly.
_The last two commanders of Fort Sumter:_
[Illustration: _Capt. John C. Mitchel, who was killed in July 1864
during the third great bombardment after commanding only two months
and 16 days._]
[Illustration: _Capt. Thomas A. Huguenin, who remained in charge
until Charleston and Fort Sumter were evacuated in February 1865._]
On July 7, 1864, Foster’s batteries opened a sustained bombardment
against the ruin of Fort Sumter. During the remainder of that month, an
average of 350 rounds daily were hurled at the beleaguered fort. In some
respects, this was the heaviest bombardment Fort Sumter had yet
received. Although the gorge ruin was wasted away at one point to within
20 feet of the water, and the shattered sea front was still further
reduced, the right face remained erect, its three-gun battery intact;
likewise most of the left flank. To Admiral Dahlgren, as late as July
21, the work seemed “nearly impregnable.” Debris added to debris,
feverish work day and night, and thousands of bags of sand brought from
the city by night actually made the fort stronger than ever. If a
casemate were breached, it was speedily filled; if the slopes of the
ruin invited assault, a bristling array of wooden pikes and barbed-wire
entanglements were provided; and there were always the muskets of the
300-man garrison.
The fire slackened in August; Foster’s supply of ammunition dwindled,
and his requisitions for more went unfulfilled. A scheme for “shaking
down” the fort walls by floating down large “powder rafts” failed
miserably. Mid-August brought final War Department refusal to supply
light-draft steamers; the end of August, sharp disapproval of Foster’s
“assaulting arks.” Meanwhile, Dahlgren had been unwilling to cooperate
in an alternate plan of assault and Foster himself was ordered to remain
strictly on the defensive. He was also called upon to ship north most of
his remaining ammunition and four more regiments of troops to be used in
Grant’s operations against Richmond.
On September 4, the bombardment begun on July 7 came to an end. In those
61 days, another 14,666 rounds had been hurled against the fort. Sixteen
of the garrison had been killed, 65 wounded. On July 20 Captain Mitchel
fell mortally wounded. Capt. Thomas A. Huguenin succeeded him that
night.
[Illustration: _Maj. Gen. John G. Foster, who replaced Gillmore as
commander of land operations at Charleston. Foster had been
Anderson’s engineer officer at Fort Sumter during the 1861
bombardment._]
The last great bombardment of Fort Sumter had taken place. The firing
was no more than desultory after September 1864; less than a hundred
rounds were hurled at the fort in the months of December and January;
none at all in February. During the autumn months it was all Foster’s
batteries could do to make a reasonable defense of Morris Island, let
alone carry on any offensive operations.
In February 1865 the long stalemate came to an end as Gen. William T.
Sherman marched north from Savannah through the interior of South
Carolina, slicing between the remnants of Gen. John B. Hood’s
Confederate army on the west and the small Confederate force remaining
along the coast. On the 17th, with Sherman in Columbia, Fort Sumter and
the other Confederate fortifications in Charleston harbor were quietly
evacuated. At 9 o’clock on the morning of the 18th, the United States
flag was once more raised over Fort Sumter. The fortunes of war had
accomplished what 3,500 tons of metal, a fleet of ironclads, and
thousands of men had failed to do.
The 1865 Flag Raising
[Illustration: Fort Sumter: painting by Seth Eastman]
On April 14, 1865, Robert Anderson, now a retired brigadier general,
returned to Fort Sumter to raise again the flag he had pulled down
four years before. If he was surprised at the shattered appearance of
the fort (shown in Seth Eastman’s companion painting to the one
reproduced on pages 4-5), he said nothing, speaking only of the “act
of duty” he had come there to perform. “I thank God that I have lived
to see this day,” he told the throng of spectators and distinguished
guests. Then, amid loud applause, he hoisted “to its proper place this
flag which floated here during peace, before the first act of this
cruel Rebellion.”
As the flag rose to the top of the staff and was caught by the breeze
from the ocean, “there was one tumultuous shout.” The guns of the
harbor then thundered in salute. “We raise our fathers’ banner, that
it may bring back better blessings than those of old,” Henry Ward
Beecher told the crowd, “that it may cast out the devil of discord;
that it may restore lawful government and a prosperity purer and more
enduring than that which it protected before; that it may win parted
friends from their alienation; that it may inspire hope and inaugurate
universal liberty; ... that it may heal all jealousies, unite all
policies, inspire a new national life, compact our strength, purify
our principles, ennoble our national ambitions, and make this people
great and strong ... for the peace of the world.”
[Illustration: The flag raising]
That night, there were fireworks and a full-dress dinner at the
Charleston Hotel hosted by General Gillmore. Speeches and toasts
followed one another in quick succession. One of the most moderate and,
as events proved, ironic toasts, was given by General Anderson. “I beg
you, now,” he began, “that you will join me in drinking the health of
... the man who, when elected President of the United States, was
compelled to reach the seat of government without an escort, but a man
who now could travel all over our country with millions of hands and
hearts to sustain him. I give you the good, the great, the honest man,
Abraham Lincoln.” Less than an hour later, Abraham Lincoln lay dying on
the floor of a Washington theater, an assassin’s bullet in his brain.