It was an almost fatal movement; for, Lombardini gaining the southern

edge of the plateau at that moment, the two Mexican columns united,

and the lancers, who swarmed on the flanks, galloped down on the

volunteers. To add to the danger, the Indiana regiment in its flight

became entangled with the Arkansas volunteers, who caught the panic and

fled likewise. Their loss in a fight where the enemy was over four to

one was severely felt. However, nothing daunted, the Second Illinois,

under Colonel Bissell, received the Mexican fire, and returned it as

fast as the men could load. The dragoons, who could do no service in

such a conflict, were sent to the rear; but a couple of guns, under

Trench and Thomas, were brought to bear, and every shot cut like a

knife through the Mexican columns. Still, it was impossible for such

a handful of men to check an army of thousands: the enemy poured down

the plateau, and, passing between the mountain and the Illinoisans,

turned our left and poured in a flank as well as a front fire. Eighty

men having fallen in twenty minutes, Colonel Bissell gave the word

of command to face to the rear, and the gallant regiment, as cool as

if on drill, faced about, marched deliberately a few yards toward

the ravine--Churchill walking his horse before them--then turned and

resumed firing.

Meanwhile the lancers were driving the Indiana and Arkansas volunteers

off the plateau, and cutting off the riflemen in the mountain from

the main army. These, perceiving the danger, and trusting that the

lancers would be checked by the Arkansas and Kentucky cavalry, toward

which they were approaching, abandoned their position and came running

down the mountain-side, with a view of cutting their way back to the

batteries. But the mounted volunteers made but a brief stand against

the impetuous charge of the lancers, and Ampudia’s light infantry no

sooner saw the riflemen move than they followed close on their heels,

firing as they went. The slaughter of our poor fellows was dreadful;

the Texans were annihilated. In one confused mass, riflemen and

volunteer cavalry, Arkansans and Kentuckians were driven back by the

advancing columns of the enemy, and little was wanted to complete the

rout. Vainly did the officers try to rally the fugitives. No sooner had

a handful of men been persuaded to halt and turn than a volley from

the Mexicans scattered them. Thus fell Captain Lincoln--a chivalrous

spirit, who was struck to the earth by two balls in the act of cheering

on a small party of Kentuckians to hold their ground.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA

(From a print of the time)]

At this perilous moment the rattle of musketry was drowned by a

tremendous roar pf cannon in the direction of the pass. The Mexicans

under Villamil had approached within range, and Captain Washington,

who had sworn to hold the pass against any odds, was keeping his word.

The gunners had been wild with ardor and suspense all morning; they

were now gratified, and, though three guns had been taken from the

battery, they poured such a murderous fire upon Villamil’s column as

it approached through the narrow pass that, after wavering a moment,

it scattered, and most of the men sought refuge in the ravines. The

moment they broke the Second Illinoisans, who had been stationed at the

pass, eagerly followed their colonel, Hardin, to the plateau, to share

the dangers of their comrades. Almost as soon McKee’s Kentuckians and

Bragg’s battery came plunging through the gullies on the west of the

pass and joined them; while Sherman’s guns were speedily brought up

from the rear. Thus the First Illinoisans were saved, and grape and

canister mowed down the Mexican masses at the foot of the mountain.

Still, the light infantry under Ampudia were pressing on by the left

to the rear of Wool’s position. In half an hour the pass might have

been turned. Most providentially at that moment Taylor arrived with

Davis’ Mississippi riflemen and May’s dragoons. The former barely

stopped an instant for the men to fill their canteens, then hastened to

the field. Boiling with rage, Davis called on the Indiana volunteers

to form “behind that wall,” pointing to his men, and advance against

their enemy. Their colonel, Bowles, the tears streaming down his face,

finding all his appeals fruitless, seized a musket and joined the

Mississippians as a private. Time could not be lost; Ampudia was close

upon them; Davis formed and advanced with steady tread against a body

more than five times his strength. A rain of balls poured upon the

Mississippians, but no man pulled a trigger till sure of his mark. Then

those deadly rifles blazed and stunned the Mexican advance. A ravine

separated them from the enemy; Davis gave the word, and, with a cheer,

down they rushed and up the other side; then forming hastily, with one

awful volley they shattered the Mexican head and drove them back to

cover.

But the cavalry had crept round the mountain and were descending on

the hacienda. They were Torrejon’s brigade, splendid fellows, mostly

lancers, and brimful of fight. Opposed to them were Yell’s Arkansas and

Marshall’s Kentucky mounted volunteers--less than half their number.

Hopelessly these brave fellows stood, firing their carbines as the foe

approached; but the last man was still taking aim when the lancers

were upon them like a whirlwind. The brave Yell was dashed to the

earth a corpse, and Lieutenant Vaughan fell from his horse, pierced

by twenty-four wounds. Huddled together in a confused mass, Mexicans

and Americans dashed side by side toward the hacienda, engaged in a

death-struggle as they galloped onward, and enveloped in a cloud

of dust. One tall Mexican was seen, mounted upon a powerful horse,

spearing every one that came within reach, in the drunkenness of

battle; while here and there a Kentuckian, with native coolness, loaded

as he rode, and brought down man after man. In less time than it takes

to read these lines the horses’ hoofs were rattling over the streets,

shrieks and shouts heralding their approach. Amid the din, the crack of

rifles from the roofs of the houses told that the little garrison were

holding their own. Through and through the hacienda the Mexicans swept,

disengaging themselves from the volunteers just in time to escape a

charge from May’s dragoons, which came clattering down the ravine to

the rescue. Reynolds followed with two pieces of flying artillery, and

Torrejon himself, badly wounded and minus several of his best men, was

glad to escape to the mountains.

Meanwhile Major Dix had snatched the colors of the Second Indiana

volunteers from the hands of their bearer, and bitterly swore that,

with God’s help, that standard should not be disgraced that day. “He

would bear it alone,” he said, “into the thick of the fight.” Roused

by his words, a few men rallied around him and joined the Mississippi

rifles on the plateau. The gallant Third Indiana were there, and

Sherman had brought up a howitzer. Enraged at the failure of the

attack on the hacienda, a fresh body of lancers now charged these

troops, advancing in close column, knee to knee, and lance in rest. In

breathless haste the volunteers were thrown across the narrow ridge,

in two lines, meeting at an angle near the centre. Not a whisper broke

the silence as the Mexicans approached, and the intrepid bearing of men

whom nothing could have saved from destruction if the charge had been

vigorous appalled the lancers. Within eighty yards of the lines they

actually halted. At that instant the rifles were raised: a second--an

awful second--elapsed. Then “Fire!” and a blaze ran round the angle.

The Mexican column was destroyed. Horses and men writhed on the plain.

The rear rank stood for a moment, but a single discharge from the

howitzer scattered them too, and they fell back. For the first time

during the day fortune seemed to favor the Americans. Hemmed in on two

sides, and driven to the base of the mountain, five thousand Mexicans,

horse and foot, with Ampudia’s division, were being slaughtered by nine

guns, which never slackened fire. Their fate was certain; when a flag

of truce from Santa Anna induced Taylor to silence his batteries. It

was only a ruse. Santa Anna asked, “What does General Taylor want?”

Before the answer reached him, the Mexicans had made good their escape

to the rear.

Notwithstanding the parley, one Mexican battery continued its fire

upon our troops. This was the eighteen and twenty-four pounder battery

of the battalion of San Patricio, composed of Irishmen, deserters

from our ranks, and commanded by an Irishman named Riley. Harassed

by this fire, and perceiving the enemy’s treachery, Taylor sent the

Illinoisans and Kentuckians, with three pieces of artillery, in pursuit

of Ampudia. They hurried forward along the heads of the ravines; but

to their horror, as they neared the southern edge of the plateau, an

overwhelming force of over ten thousand men, comprising the whole of

Santa Anna’s reserve, emerged from below and deployed before their

firing. To resist was madness. The volunteers discharged their pieces

and rushed precipitately into the nearest gorge. Its sides were steep,

and many rolled headlong to the bottom. Others were massacred by a

shower of bullets poured from Mexicans who clustered on both ridges

above. In the midst of the carnage, Hardin, McKee, and many other brave

officers fell, vainly trying to seek an exit for their troops. At the

mouth of the ravine a squadron of lancers were ready to cut off their

escape. Down the sides poured the Mexican infantry, slaughtering the

wounded with the bayonet and driving the helpless mass before them.

Above, pale as death, with compressed lips, O’Brien and Thomas stood

to their deserted pieces. Once before that morning the Mexican shot

had left the former alone at his gun; for the second time the fortune

of the day seemed to depend on his single exertions. If he could hold

the enemy at bay for a few minutes, there would be time for other

batteries to come up. Ball after ball tore ragged gaps through the

advancing host. After each discharge O’Brien fell back just far enough

to load and fire again, praying in an agony that help might come. He

was wounded himself; all his men were killed or wounded; but he never

flinched before the surging wave of Mexicans until the clack of whips

and the rattle of wheels were heard behind him. Then--for he knew it

was Bragg urging onward his jaded horses--the brave fellow aimed one

deadly volley of canister and abandoned his piece. The next moment

Bragg unlimbered and opened a telling fire. Sherman followed, and,

Davis and Lane coming up at a run, the crack of rifles was heard away

to the extreme left. On the right, the well-known roar of Washington’s

guns startled the foe. It was the death-warrant of the lancers, who

were penning our volunteers in the ravine. Out came the remnant,

leaving crowds of dead, and not one man wounded, in the horrid trap,

and hastily scaled the side of the plateau. Taylor was there, coolly

picking the balls out of his dress, and Wool rode wildly backward and

forward, urging on the rear ranks. But it was needless. At Bragg’s

third discharge the whole body of the Mexicans broke and dashed

pell-mell into the ravine whence they had come.

This was the last of the battle. Davis and Bragg followed the enemy

a short distance; but the San Patricio battery still commanded the

southern edge of the plateau, and the troops were so fagged that they

could hardly walk. Night was coming on, and the firing ceased. The men

lay down where they stood; and a few, overcome by fatigue, slept side

by side with the dead and the wounded. It was a dark, gloomy night,

and a bitter wind swept from the mountain. Not far in the distance the

wolf’s howl broke dismally on the ear, and the vultures flapped their

wings overhead. Nothing was known of the Mexican army; no one could say

what the morrow might bring forth. With anxious eye the officers looked

for the dawn.

It came at last; and to their inexpressible delight the first streaks

of light in the eastern sky revealed a deserted camp. The Mexicans had

fled. An army of over twenty thousand men, comprising the flower of the

Mexican troops, had been beaten by forty-six hundred Americans, over

four thousand of whom were raw volunteers. Such a cheer as rose from

the pass of Angostura on that February morning never before or since

re-echoed through the dark gorges of the Sierra Madre.

XIV

SCOTT’S CONQUEST OF MEXICO, 1847

Northern Mexico lay helpless at Taylor’s feet. The stars and stripes

floated over the citadel of Monterey, and the flower of the Mexican

army, commanded by their greatest general, had been repulsed at Buena

Vista. Nothing now remained but to strike a blow at the vitals of the

southern republic. That task had been imposed on General Scott, whose

skill and experience designated him as the proper man to conduct a

campaign in which the fate of the war was to be decided.

On March 6, 1847, the fleet of transports and men-of-war was

concentrated near Vera Cruz. It bore a small but well-disciplined force

of some twelve thousand men, comprising the whole standing army of the

United States--four regiments of artillery, eight of infantry, one of

mounted riflemen, and detachments of dragoons--besides eight volunteer

regiments of foot and one of horse. Major-General Scott commanded

the whole, with Worth, fresh from the brilliant capture of Monterey,

Twiggs, and the volunteer Patterson as his brigadiers. Under the latter

served Generals Quitman, Pillow, and Shields.

Vera Cruz was the strongest place on this continent, after Quebec.

Situated on the border of the Gulf, it was surrounded by a line of

bastions and redans, terminating at either extremity in a fort of large

capacity. A sandy plain encircled it on the land side, affording no

protection to an assailant within seven hundred yards of the walls;

and toward the sea, on a reef at a distance of rather more than half

a mile, the famous fort of San Juan d’Ulloa commanded the harbor.

In March, 1847, the city mounted nearly ninety, the castle one

hundred and twenty-eight guns of various calibers, including several

thirteen-inch mortars and ten-inch Paixhans. So implicit was the faith

of the Mexicans in the strength of the place that, having rendered it,

as they believed, impregnable, they left its defence to a garrison

of five thousand men, and bade them remember that the city was named

Vera Cruz the Invincible. This was the first mistake of the enemy; a

second was omitting to provision the place for a siege; a third was

allowing women, children, and non-combatants to remain in the town. In

this instance, as in so many others, the overweening assurance of the

Mexicans was the cause of their ruin. Monterey and Buena Vista should

have taught them to know better.

* * * * *

The American troops began to land on March 9, 1847, and by the 12th

a line of troops five miles long surrounded Vera Cruz. On the 22d

the bombardment was begun, and on the 26th, without an assault, the

Mexicans began negotiations for a surrender, which took place three

days afterward.

CERRO GORDO

On April 8th the army, headed by Twiggs’ division, moved forward on

the national road toward the city of Mexico. At the mountain-pass of

Cerro Gordo the Mexicans, under Santa Anna, had made a stand. They had

planted batteries to command all the level ground, and behind them were

some twelve thousand infantry and cavalry. The fighting began on the

17th with an attack by Twiggs on the Mexican left, which resulted in

driving back the Mexicans, and in the capture of a strong position on

a hill called Atalaya, where some cannon were mounted in the night.

The next day the desperate assaults of Harney and Riley stormed the

redoubts on the crest of Cerro Gordo, and Riley and Shields charged

and captured the Mexican batteries on the road. On the left Pillow was

less successful, but the guns of Cerro Gordo were turned against the

Mexicans, who, seeing the defeat of Santa Anna, hoisted a white flag.

Three thousand men, including five generals, surrendered to General

Scott, and over a thousand were killed or wounded. Of the American

force of eighty-five hundred, sixty-three were killed and three hundred

and sixty-eight wounded.

The unopposed seizure of the castle of La Hoya, and the occupation of

the towns of Perote and Puebla were followed by a delay due to the

necessity of waiting for reinforcements to replace the three thousand

volunteers whose time had expired.

Reinforcements arrived but slowly, and each detachment, as it moved

from Vera Cruz to the mountains, had to sustain a running fight with

the guerrillas whom Santa Anna had let loose on the road. All arrived,

however, in safety, and by the beginning of August General Scott was

ready to move on the valley of Mexico with ten thousand seven hundred

and thirty-eight men, leaving Colonel Childs with fourteen hundred

to garrison Puebla. On the third day they stood upon the summit of

the ridge which looks down upon the valley of Mexico, with the city

itself glittering in the centre, and bright lakes, grim forts, and busy

causeways dotting the dark expanse of marsh and lava. That night the

troops encamped at the foot of the mountains and within the valley on

the border of Lake Chalco.

With the energy which characterized Santa Anna throughout the war, he

had prepared for a desperate defence. Civil strife had been silenced,

funds raised, an army of twenty-five thousand men mustered, and every

precaution taken which genius could suggest or science indicate. Nature

had done much for him. Directly in front of the invading army lay the

large lakes of Xochimilco and Chalco. These turned, vast marshes,

intersected by ditches and for the most part impassable, surrounded

the city on the east and south--on which side Scott was advancing--for

several miles. The only approaches were by causeways, and these Santa

Anna had taken prodigious pains to guard. The national road to Vera

Cruz--which Scott must have taken had he marched on the north side

of the lakes--was commanded by a fort mounting fifty-one guns on an

impregnable hill called El Peñon. Did he turn the southern side of the

lakes, a field of lava, deemed almost impassable for troops, interposed

a primary obstacle, and fortified positions at San Antonio, San Angel,

and Churubusco, with an intrenched camp at Contreras, were likewise to

be surmounted before the southern causeways could be reached. Beyond

these there yet remained the formidable castle of Chapultepec and the

strong enclosure of Molino del Rey to be stormed before the city gates

could be reached. Powerful batteries had been mounted at all these

points, and ample garrisons detailed to serve them. The bone and muscle

of Mexico were there. Goaded by defeat, Santa Anna never showed so much

vigor; ambition fired Valencia; patriotism stirred the soul of Alvarez;

Canalejo, maddened by the odium into which he had fallen, was boiling

to regain his sobriquet of “The Lion of Mexico.” With a constancy equal

to anything recorded of the Roman Senate, the Mexican Congress, on

learning the defeat at Cerro Gordo, had voted unanimously that any one

opening negotiations with the enemy should be deemed a traitor, and

the citizens with one accord had ratified the vote. Within six months

Mexico had lost two splendid armies in two pitched battles against the

troops now advancing against the capital; but she never lost heart.

CONTRERAS

When the engineers reported that the fortress on El Peñon could not be

carried without a loss of one-third the army, Scott decided to move

by the south of the lakes; and Worth accordingly advanced, leading

the van, as far as San Augustin, nine miles from the city of Mexico.

There a large field of lava--known as the Pedregal--barred the way.

On the one side, a couple of miles from San Augustin, the fortified

works at San Antonio commanded the passage between the field and the

lake; on the other the ground was so much broken that infantry alone

could advance, and General Valencia occupied an intrenched camp, with

a heavy battery, near the village of Contreras, three miles distant.

Scott determined to attack on both sides, and sent forward Worth on the

east and Pillow and Twiggs on the west. The latter advanced as fast as

possible over the masses of lava on the morning of the 19th, and by 2

P.M. a couple of light batteries were placed in position and opened

fire on the Mexican camp.

At the same time, General Persifer Smith conceived the plan of turning

Valencia’s left, and hastened along the path through the Pedregal in

the direction of a village called San Jeronimo. Colonel Riley followed.

Pillow sent Cadwalader’s brigade on the same line, and later in the

day Morgan’s regiment was likewise despatched toward that point. They

drove in the Mexican pickets and skirmishers, dispersed a few parties

of lancers, and occupied the village without loss. Seeing the movement,

Santa Anna hastened to Valencia’s support with twelve thousand men.

He was discovered by Cadwalader just as the latter gained the village

road; and, appreciating the vast importance of preventing a junction

between the two Mexican generals, that gallant officer did not hesitate

to draw up his brigade in order of battle. So broken was the ground

that Santa Anna could not see the amount of force opposed to him, and

declined the combat. This was all Cadwalader wanted. Shields’ brigade

was advancing through the Pedregal, and the troops which had already

crossed were rapidly moving to the rear of Valencia’s camp. Night, too,

was close at hand. When it fell, Smith’s, Riley’s, and Cadwalader’s

commands had gained the point they sought. Shields joined them at

ten o’clock; and at midnight Captain Lee crossed the Pedregal, with

a message from General Smith to General Scott, to say that he would

commence the attack at daybreak next morning.

It rained all night, and the men lay in the mud without fires. At

three in the morning (August 20th) the word was passed to march. Such

pitchy darkness covered the face of the plain that Smith ordered every

man to touch his front file as he marched. Now and then a flash of

lightning lit up the narrow ravine; occasionally a straggling moonbeam

pierced the clouds and shed an uncertain glimmer on the heights; but

these flitting guides only served to make the darkness seem darker.

The soldiers groped their way, stumbling over stones and brushwood,

and did not gain the rear of the camp till day broke. Then Riley bade

his men look to the priming of their guns and reload those which the

rain had wet. With the first ray of daylight the firing had recommenced

between the Mexican camp and Ransom’s corps stationed in front and

Shields’ brigade at San Jeronimo. Almost at the same moment Riley

began to ascend the height in the rear. Before he reached the crest,

his engineers, who had gone forward to reconnoitre, came running back

to say that his advance had been detected, that two guns were being

pointed against him, and a body of infantry were sallying from the

camp. The news braced the men’s nerves. They gained the ridge, and

stood a tremendous volley from the Mexicans without flinching. Poor

Hanson of the Seventh--a gallant officer and an excellent man--was

shot down with many others; but the Mexicans had done their worst.

With steady aim, the volley was returned; and ere the smoke rose a

cheer rang through the ravine and Riley fell with a swoop on the

intrenchments. With bayonet and butt of musket, the Second and Seventh

drove the enemy from his guns, leaping into his camp and slaughtering

all before them. Up rushed Smith’s own brigade on the left, driving a

party of Mexicans before them, and charging with the bayonet straight

at Torrejon’s cavalry, which was drawn up in order of battle. Defeat

was marked on their faces. Valencia was nowhere to be found. Salas

strove vainly to rouse his men to defend themselves with energy;

Torrejon’s horse, smitten with panic, broke and fled at the advance

of our infantry. Riley hurled the Mexicans from their camp after a

struggle of a quarter of an hour; and as they rushed down the ravine

their own cavalry rode over them, trampling down more men than the

bayonet and ball had laid low. On the right, as they fled, Cadwalader’s

brigade poured in a destructive volley; and Shields, throwing his party

across the road, obstructed their retreat and compelled the fugitives

to yield themselves prisoners of war; The only fight of any moment had

taken place within the camp. There, for a few minutes, the Mexicans

had fought desperately; two of our regimental colors had been shot

down; but finally Anglo-Saxon bone and sinew had triumphed. To the

delight of the assailants, the first prize of victory was the guns

O’Brien had abandoned at Buena Vista, which were regained by his own

regiment. Twenty other guns and over one thousand prisoners, including

eighty-eight officers and four generals, were likewise captured, and

some fifteen hundred Mexicans killed and wounded. The American loss in

killed, wounded, and missing was about one hundred men.

Barely taking time to breathe his troops, Smith followed in pursuit

toward the city. By ten o’clock in the morning he reached San Angel,

which Santa Anna evacuated as he approached. The general-in-chief

and the generals of division had by this time relieved Smith of his

command; Scott rode to the front, and in a few brief words told the men

there was more work to be done that day. A loud cheer from the ranks

was the reply. The whole force then advanced to Coyacan, within a mile

of Churubusco, and prepared to assault the place.

CHURUBUSCO

Santa Anna considered it the key to the city, and awaited the attack

in perfect confidence with thirty thousand men. The defences were of

a very simple description. On the west, in the direction of Coyacan,

stood the large stone convent of San Pablo, in which seven heavy guns

were mounted, and which, as well as the wall and breastworks in front,

was filled with infantry. A breastwork connected San Pablo with the

_tête de pont_ over the Churubusco River, four hundred yards distant.

This was the easternmost point of defence, and formed part of the San

Antonio causeway leading to the city. It was a work constructed with

the greatest skill--bastions, curtain, and wet ditch, everything was

complete and perfect--four guns were mounted in embrasure and barbette,

and as many men as the place would hold were stationed there. The

reserves occupied the causeway behind Churubusco. Independently of

his defences, Santa Anna’s numbers--nearly five to one--ought to have

insured the repulse of the assailants.

By eleven--hardly seven hours having elapsed since the Contreras camp

had been stormed, five miles away--Twiggs and Pillow were in motion

toward the San Antonio causeway. Nothing had been heard of Worth,

who had been directed to move along the east side of the Pedregal on

San Antonio; but it was taken for granted he had carried the point,

and Scott wished to cut off the retreat of the garrison. Twiggs was

advancing cautiously toward the convent, when a heavy firing was heard

in advance. Supposing that a reconnoitring party had been attacked,

he hastily sent forward the First Artillery, under Dimmick, through

a field of tall corn, to support them. No sooner had they separated

from the main body than a terrific discharge of grape, canister, and

musketry assailed them from the convent. In the teeth of the storm they

advanced to within one hundred yards of that building, and a light

battery under Taylor was brought up on their right and opened on the

convent. Over an hour the gunners stood firm to their pieces under

a fire as terrible as troops ever endured; one-third of the command

had fallen before they were withdrawn. Colonel Riley meanwhile, with

the stormers of Contreras, had been despatched to assail San Pablo

on the west, and, like Dimmick, was met by a murderous rain of shot.

Whole heads of companies were mowed down at once. Thus Captain Smith

fell, twice wounded, with every man beside him; and a single discharge

from the Mexican guns swept down Lieutenant Easley and the section he

led. It was the second time that day the gallant Second had served

as targets for the Mexicans, but not a man fell back. General Smith

ordered up the Third in support, and these, protecting themselves

as best they could behind a few huts, kept up a steady fire on the

convent. Sallies from the works were constantly made and as constantly

repulsed, but not a step could the assailants make in advance.

By this time the battle was raging on three different points. Worth

had marched on San Antonio that morning, found it evacuated, and given

chase to the Mexicans with the Fifth and Sixth Infantry. The causeway

leading from San Antonio to the _tête de pont_ of Churubusco was

thronged with flying horse and foot; our troops dashed headlong after

them, never halting till the advance corps--the Sixth--were within

short range of the Mexican batteries. A tremendous volley from the

_tête de pont_ in front and the convent on the flank then forced them

to await the arrival of the rest of the division. This was the fire

which Twiggs heard when he sent Dimmick against the convent.

Worth came up almost immediately; and, directing the Sixth to advance

as best they could along the causeway in the teeth of the _tête de

pont_, despatched Garland and Clarke’s brigades through the fields

on the right to attack it in flank. Every gun was instantly directed

against the assailants; and, though the day was bright and clear, the

clouds of smoke actually darkened the air. Hoffman, waving his sword,

cheered on the Sixth; but the shot tore and ripped up their ranks

to such a degree that in a few minutes they had lost ninety-seven

men. The brigades on the right suffered as severely. One hundred men

fell within the space of an acre. Still they pressed on, till the

Eighth (of Clarke’s brigade) reached the ditch. In they plunged,

Lieutenant Longstreet bearing the colors in advance--scrambled out

on the other side--dashed at the walls, without ladders or scaling

implements--bayoneted the defenders as they took aim. At last officers

and men, mixed pell-mell, some through the embrasures, some over the

walls, rushed or leaped in and drove the garrison helter-skelter upon

their reserves.

The _tête de pont_ gained, its guns were turned on the convent, whence

the Mexicans were still slaughtering our gallant Second and Third.

Duncan’s battery, too, hitherto in reserve, was brought up, and opened

with such rapidity that a bystander estimated the intervals between the

reports at three seconds. Stunned by this novel attack, the garrison

of San Pablo slackened fire. In an instant the Third, followed by

Dimmick’s artillery, dashed forward with the bayonet to storm the

nearest bastion. With a run they carried it, the artillery bursting

over the curtain; but at that moment a dozen white flags waved in their

faces. The whole fortified position of Churubusco was taken.

Meantime, however, a conflict as deadly as either of these was raging

behind the Mexican fortifications. Soon after the battle commenced,

Scott sent Pierce and Shields’ brigades by the left, through the

fields, to attack the enemy in the rear. On the causeway, opposed to

them, were planted Santa Anna’s reserves--four thousand foot and three

thousand horse--in a measure protected by a dense growth of maguey.

Shields advanced intrepidly with his force of sixteen hundred. The

ground was marshy, and for a long distance--having vainly endeavored

to outflank the enemy--his advance was exposed to their whole fire.

Morgan, of the Fifteenth, fell wounded. The New York regiment suffered

fearfully, and their leader, Colonel Burnett, was disabled. The

Palmettos, of South Carolina, and the Ninth, under Ransom, were as

severely cut up; and after a while all sought shelter in and about

a large barn near the causeway. Shields, in an agony at the failure

of his movement, cried imploringly for volunteers to follow him. The

appeal was instantly answered by Colonel Butler, of the Palmettos:

“Every South-Carolinian will follow you to the death!” The cry was

contagious, and most of the New-Yorkers took it up. Forming at angles

to the causeway, Shields led these brave men, under an incessant hail

of shot, against the village of Portales, where the Mexican reserves

were posted. Not a trigger was pulled till they stood at a hundred

and fifty yards from the enemy. Then the little band poured in their

volley, fatally answered by the Mexican host. Butler, already wounded,

was shot through the head, and died instantly. Calling to the Palmettos

to avenge his death, Shields gives the word to charge. They charge--not

four hundred in all--over the plain, down upon four thousand Mexicans,

securely posted under cover. At every step their ranks thinned.

Dickenson, who succeeded Butler in command of the Palmettos, seizes the

colors as the bearer falls dead; the next moment he is down himself,

mortally wounded, and Major Gladden snatches them from his hand. Adams,

Moragne, and nearly half the gallant band are prostrate. A very few

minutes more, and there will be no one left to bear the glorious flag.

[Illustration: CHARGE OF THE “PALMETTOS” AT CHURUBUSCO

(From a print of the time)]

But at this very moment a deafening roar was heard in the direction

of the _tête de pont_. Round-shot and grape, rifle-balls and canister

came crashing down the causeway into the Mexican ranks from their own

battery. Worth was there just in time. Down the road and over the

ditch, through the field and hedge and swamp, in tumult and panic, the

Mexicans fled from the bayonets of the Sixth and Garland’s brigade. A

shout, louder than the cannon’s peal--Worth was on their heels, with

his best men. Before Shields reached the causeway he was by his side,

driving the Mexican horse into their infantry, and Ayres was galloping

up with a captured Mexican gun. Captain Kearny, with a few dragoons,

rode straight into the flying host, scattered them right and left,

sabred all he could reach, and halted before the gate of Mexico. Not

till then did he perceive that he was alone with his little party,

nearly all of whom were wounded; but, in spite of the hundreds of

escopetas that were levelled at him, he galloped back in safety to

headquarters.

The sun, which rose that morning on a proud army and a defiant

metropolis, set at even on a shattered, haggard band and a city full

of woe-stricken wretches who did nothing all night but quake with

terror and cry at every noise, “Aqui viene los Yanquies!” All along

the causeway, and in the fields and swamp on either side, heaps of

dead men and cattle, intermingled with broken ammunition-carts, marked

where the American shot had told. A gory track leading to the _tête

de pont_, groups of dead in the fields on the west of Churubusco,

over whose pale faces some stalks of tattered corn still waved, red

blotches in the marsh next the causeway, where the rich blood of

Carolina and New York soaked the earth, showed where the fire of the

heavy Mexican guns and the countless escopetas of the infantry had been

most murderous. Scott had lost, in that day’s work, over one thousand

men in killed and wounded, seventy-nine of whom were officers. The

Mexican loss, according to Santa Anna, was one-third of his army, equal

probably to ten thousand men, one-fourth of whom were prisoners, the

rest killed and wounded. As the sun went down the troops were recalled

to headquarters; but all night long the battle-field swarmed with

straggling parties, seeking some lost comrade in the cold and rain,

and surgeons hurrying from place to place and offering succor to the

wounded.

It would have been easy for Scott to have marched on the city that

night, or next morning, and seized it before the Mexicans recovered

the shock of their defeat. Anxious, however, to shorten the war, and

assured that Santa Anna was desirous of negotiating; warned, moreover,

by neutrals and others that the hostile occupation of the capital

would destroy the last chance of peaceable accommodation and rouse

the Mexican spirit to resistance all over the country, the American

general consented, too generously perhaps, to offer an armistice to

his vanquished foe. It was eagerly accepted, and negotiations were

commenced which lasted over a fortnight. Early in September the

treachery of the Mexicans became apparent. No progress had been made in

the negotiations; and, in defiance of the armistice, an American wagon,

proceeding to the city for provisions, had been attacked by the mob and

one man killed and others wounded. Scott wrote to Santa Anna, demanding

an apology, and threatening to terminate the armistice on the 7th if it

were not tendered. The reply was insulting in the extreme; Santa Anna

had repaired his losses and was ready for another fight.

MOLINO DEL REY

On the evening of the 7th of September Worth and his officers were

gathered in his quarters at Tacubaya. On a table lay a hastily sketched

map showing the position of the fortified works at Molino del Rey, with

the Casa Mata on one side and the castle of Chapultepec on the other.

The Molino was occupied by the enemy; there was reason to believe it

contained a foundry in full operation, and Worth had been directed to

storm it next morning. Over that table bent Garland and Clarke, eager

to repeat the glorious deeds of August 20th at the _tête de pont_ of

Churubusco; Duncan and Smith, already veterans; Wright, the leader of

the forlorn-hope, joyfully thinking of the morrow; famous Martin Scott

and dauntless Graham, little dreaming that a few hours would see their

livid corpses stretched upon the plain; fierce old McIntosh, covered

with scars; Worth himself, his manly brow clouded and his cheek paled

by sickness and anxiety. Each officer had his place assigned to him in

the conflict; and they parted to seek a few hours’ rest. At half-past

two in the morning of the 8th the division was astir. ’Twas a bright,

starlight night, whose silence was unbroken as the troops moved

thoughtfully toward the battle-field. In front, on the right, about

a mile from the encampment, the hewn-stone walls of the Molino del

Rey--a range of buildings five hundred yards long and well adapted for

defence--were distinctly visible, with drowsy lights twinkling through

the windows. A little farther off, on the left, stood the black pile

of the Casa Mata, the arsenal, crenelled for musketry and surrounded

by a quadrangular field-work. Beyond the Casa Mata lay a ravine, and

from this a ditch and hedge ran, passing in front of both works to the

Tacubaya road. Far on the right the grim old castle of Chapultepec

loomed up darkly against the sky. Sleep wrapped the whole Mexican line,

and but few words were spoken in the American ranks as the troops took

up their respective positions--Garland, with Dunn’s battery and Huger’s

twenty-four-pounders, on the right, against the Molino; Wright, at the

head of the stormers, and followed by the light division, under Captain

Kirby Smith, in the centre; McIntosh, with Duncan’s battery, on the

left, near the ravine, looking toward the Casa Mata; and Cadwallader,

with his brigade, in reserve.

Night still overhung the east when the Mexicans were roused from their

slumbers by the roar of Huger’s twenty-four-pounders and the crashing

of the balls through the roof and walls of the Molino. A shout arose

within their lines, spreading from the ravine to the castle; lights

flashed in every direction, bugles sounded, the clank of arms rang from

right to left, and every man girded himself for the fray. With the

first ray of daylight Major Wright advanced with the forlorn-hope down

the slope. A few seconds elapsed; then a sheet of flame burst from the

batteries, and round-shot, canister, and grape hurtled through the air.

“Charge!” shouted the leader, and down they went, with double-quick

step, over the ditch and hedge and into the line, sweeping everything

before them. The Mexicans fell from their guns, but soon, seeing the

smallness of the force opposed to them, and reassured by the galling

fire poured from the azoteas and Molino on the stormers, they rallied,

charged furiously, and drove our men back into the plain. Here eleven

out of the fourteen officers of Wright’s party and the bulk of his

men fell killed or wounded. All of the latter who could not fly were

bayoneted where they lay by the Mexicans. Captain Walker, of the Sixth,

badly shot, was left for dead; he saw the enemy murdering every man

who showed signs of life, but the agony of thirst was so insupportable

that he could not resist raising his canteen to his lips. A dozen balls

instantly tore up the ground around him; several Mexicans rushed at him

with the bayonet, but at that moment the light division under Kirby

Smith came charging over the ditch into the Mexican line and diverted

their attention.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF MOLINO DEL REY

(From a print of the time)]

Garland, meanwhile, moved down rapidly on the right with Dunn’s

guns, which were drawn by hand, all the horses having been wounded

and become unmanageable. These soon opened an enfilading fire on the

Mexican battery; and, some of the gunners flying, the light division

charged, under a hot fire, and carried the guns for a second time.

Their gallant leader was shot dead in the charge. But the enemy could

afford to lose the battery. From the tops of the azoteas, from the Casa

Mata, and the Molino, a deadly shower of balls was rained crosswise

upon the assailants. Part of the reserve was brought up, and Dunn’s

guns and the Mexican battery were served upon the buildings without

much effect at first. Lieutenant-Colonel Graham led a party of the

Eleventh against the latter; when within pistol-shot a terrific volley

assailed him, wounding him in ten places. The gallant soldier quietly

dismounted, pointed with his sword to the building, cried “Charge!” and

sank dead on the field.

There was an equally fierce fight at the other wing, where Duncan and

McIntosh had driven in the enemy’s right toward the Casa Mata. McIntosh

started to storm that fort; and, in the teeth of a tremendous hail of

musketry, advanced to the ditch, only twenty-five yards from the work.

There a ball knocked him down; it was his luck to be shot or bayoneted

in every battle. Martin Scott took the command, but as he ordered the

men forward he rolled lifeless into the ditch. Major Waite, the next

in rank, had hardly seen him fall before he too was disabled. By whole

companies the men were mowed down by the Mexican shot; but they stood

their ground. At length some one gave the word to fall back, and the

remnants of the brigade obeyed. Many wounded were left on the ground;

among others Lieutenant Burnell shot in the leg, whom the Mexicans

murdered when his comrades abandoned him. After the battle his body was

found, and beside it his dog, moaning piteously and licking his dead

master’s face.

At the head of four thousand cavalry, Alvarez now menaced our left.

Duncan watched them come, driving a cloud of dust before them, till

they were within close range; then, opening with his wonderful

rapidity, he shattered whole platoons at a discharge. Worth sent him

word to be sure to keep the lancers in check. “Tell General Worth,” was

his reply, “to make himself perfectly easy; I can whip twenty thousand

of them.” So far as Alvarez was concerned, he kept his word.

On the American right the fight had reached a crisis. Mixed confusedly

together, men of all arms furiously attacked the Molino, firing into

every aperture, climbing to the roof, and striving to batter in the

doors and gates with their muskets. The garrison never slackened

their terrible fire for an instant. At length, Major Buchanan, of the

Fourth, succeeded in bursting open the southern gate, and almost at

the same moment Anderson and Ayres, of the artillery, forced their

way into the buildings at the northwestern angle. Ayres leaped down

alone into a crowd of Mexicans--he had done the same at Monterey--and

fell covered with wounds. In our men rushed on both sides, stabbing,

firing, and felling the Mexicans with their muskets. From room to

room and house to house a hand-to-hand encounter was kept up. Here a

stalwart Mexican hurled down man after man as they advanced; there

Buchanan and the Fourth levelled all before them. But the Mexicans

never withstood the cold steel. One by one the defenders escaped by

the rear toward Chapultepec, and those who remained hung out a white

flag. Under Duncan’s fire the Casa Mata had been evacuated, and the

enemy was everywhere in full retreat. Twice he rallied and charged the

Molino; but each time the artillery drove him back toward Chapultepec,

and parties of the light infantry pursued him down the road. Before ten

in the morning the whole field was won; and, having blown up the Casa

Mata, Worth, by Scott’s order, fell back to Tacubaya.

With gloomy face and averted eye the gallant soldier received the

thanks of his chief for the exploits of the morning. His heart was

with the brave men he had lost: near eight hundred out of less than

thirty-five hundred, and among them fifty-eight officers, many of whom

were his dearest friends. All had fallen in advance of their men, with

sword in hand and noble words on their lips. They had helped to storm

Molino del Rey, and to cut down near a fifth of Santa Anna’s fourteen

thousand men. Sadly the general returned to his quarters.

The end was now close at hand. Reconnaissances were carefully made,

and, the enemy’s strength being gathered on the southern front of the

city. General Scott determined to assault Chapultepec on the west.

By the morning of the 12th the batteries were completed, and opened

a brisk fire on the castle, without, however, doing any more serious

damage than annoying the garrison and killing a few men. The fire was

kept up all day; and at night preparations were made for the assault,

which was ordered to be made next morning.

CHAPULTEPEC

At daybreak on the 13th the cannonade recommenced, as well from the

batteries planted against Chapultepec as from Steptoe’s guns, which

were served against the southern defences of the city in order to

divert the attention of the enemy. At 8 A.M. the firing from the former

ceased and the attack commenced. Quitman advanced along the Tacubaya

road, Pillow from the Molino del Rey, which he had occupied on the

evening before. Between the Molino and the castle lay first an open

space, then a grove thickly planted with trees; in the latter Mexican

sharpshooters had been posted, protected by an intrenchment on the

border of the grove. Pillow sent Lieutenant-Colonel Johnstone with

a party of voltigeurs to turn this work by a flank movement; it was

handsomely accomplished, and, just as the voltigeurs broke through

the redan, Pillow, with the main body, charged it in front and drove

back the Mexicans. The grove gained, Pillow pressed forward to the

foot of the rock; for the Mexican shot from the castle batteries,

crashing through the trees, seemed even more terrible than it really

was, and the troops were becoming restless. The Mexicans had retreated

to a redoubt half-way up the hill; the voltigeurs sprang up from rock

to rock, firing as they advanced, and followed by Hooker, Chase, and

others, with parties of infantry. In a very few minutes the redoubt was

gained, the garrison driven up the hill, and the voltigeurs, Ninth, and

Fifteenth in hot pursuit after them. Here the firing from the castle

was very severe. Colonel Ransom, of the Ninth, was killed, and Pillow

himself was wounded.

Still the troops pressed on till the crest of the hill was gained.

There some moments were lost, owing to the delay in the arrival of

scaling-ladders, during which two of Quitman’s regiments and Clarke’s

brigade reinforced the storming party. When the ladders came, numbers

of men rushed forward with them, leaped into the ditch, and planted

them for the assault. Lieutenant Selden was the first man to mount.

But the Mexicans collected all their energies for this last moment.

A tremendous fire dashed the foremost of the stormers in the ditch,

killing Lieutenants Rogers and Smith, and clearing the ladders. Fresh

men instantly manned them, and, after a brief struggle, Captain Howard,

of the voltigeurs, gained a foothold on the parapet. McKenzie, of

the forlorn-hope, followed; and a crowd of voltigeurs and infantry,

shouting and cheering, pressed after him and swept down upon the

garrison with the bayonet. Almost at the same moment Johnstone, of the

voltigeurs, who had led a small party round to the gate of the castle,

broke it open and effected an entrance in spite of a fierce fire from

the southern walls. The two parties uniting, a deadly conflict ensued

within the building. Maddened by the recollection of the murder of

their wounded comrades at Molino del Rey, the stormers at first showed

no quarter. On every side the Mexicans were stabbed or shot down

without mercy. Many flung themselves over the parapet and down the

hillside, and were dashed in pieces against the rocks. More fought like

fiends, expending their last breath in a malediction and expiring in

the act of aiming a treacherous blow as they lay on the ground. Streams

of blood flowed through the doors of the college, and every room and

passage was the theatre of some deadly struggle. At length the officers

succeeded in putting an end to the carnage, and, the remaining Mexicans

having surrendered, the stars and stripes were hoisted over the castle

of Chapultepec by Major Seymour.

Meanwhile Quitman had stormed the batteries on the causeway to the

east of the castle, after a desperate struggle, in which Major Twiggs,

who commanded the stormers, was shot dead at the head of his men. The

Mexicans fell back toward the city. General Scott, coming up at this

moment, ordered a simultaneous advance to be made on the city along the

two roads leading from Chapultepec to the gates of San Cosme and Belen

respectively. Worth was to command that on San Cosme, Quitman that on

Belen. Both were prepared for defence by barricades, behind which the

enemy were posted in great numbers. Fortunately for the assailants, an

aqueduct, supported on arches of solid masonry, ran along the centre

of each causeway. By keeping under cover of these arches and springing

rapidly from one to another, Smith’s rifles and the South Carolina

regiment were enabled to advance close to the first barricade on the

Belen road and pour in a destructive fire on the gunners. A flank

discharge from Duncan’s guns completed the work; the barricade was

carried; and, without a moment’s rest, Quitman advanced in the same

manner on the garita of San Belen, which was held by General Torres

with a strong garrison. It, too, was stormed, though under a fearful

hail of grape and canister; and the rifles moved forward toward the

citadel. But at this moment Santa Anna rode furiously down to the

point of attack. Boiling with rage at the success of the invaders, he

smote General Torres in the face, threw a host of infantry into the

houses commanding the garita and the road, ordered the batteries in the

citadel to open fire, planted fresh guns on the Paseo, and infused such

spirit into the Mexicans that Quitman’s advance was stopped at once. A

terrific storm of shot, shells, and grape assailed the garita, where

Captain Dunn had planted an eight-pounder. Twice the gunners were shot

down, and fresh men sent to take their places. Then Dunn himself fell,

and immediately afterward Lieutenant Benjamin and his first sergeant

met the same fate. The riflemen in the arches repelled sallies, but

Quitman’s position was precarious till night terminated the conflict.

Worth, meanwhile, had advanced in like manner along the San Cosme

causeway, driving the Mexicans from barricade to barricade till within

two hundred and fifty yards of the garita of San Cosme. There he

encountered as severe a fire as that which stopped Quitman. But Scott

had ordered him to take the garita, and take it he would. Throwing

Garland’s brigade out to the right and Clarke’s to the left, he ordered

them to break into the houses, burst through the walls, and bore their

way to the flanks of the garita. The plan had succeeded perfectly at

Monterey; nor did it fail here. Slowly but surely the sappers passed

from house to house, until at sunset they reached the point desired.

Then Worth ordered the attack. Lieutenant Hunt brought up a light gun

at a gallop and fired it through the embrasure of the enemy’s battery,

almost muzzle to muzzle; the infantry at the same moment opened a most

deadly and unexpected fire from the roofs of the houses, and McKenzie,

at the head of the stormers, dashed at the battery and carried it

almost without loss. The Mexicans fled precipitately into the city.

At one that night two parties left the citadel and issued forth

from the city. One was the remnant of the Mexican army, which slunk

silently and noiselessly through the northern gate, and fled to

Guadalupe-Hidalgo; the other was a body of officers who came under a

white flag to propose terms of capitulation.

THE OCCUPATION OF THE CITY OF MEXICO

The sun shone brightly on the morning of September 14th. Scores of

neutral flags floated from the windows on the Calle de Plateros, and in

their shade beautiful women gazed curiously on the scene beneath. Gayly

dressed groups thronged the balconies, and at the street-corners were

scowling, dark-faced men. The street resounded with the heavy tramp

of infantry, the rattle of gun-carriages, and the clatter of horses’

hoofs. “Los Yanquies!” was the cry, and every neck was stretched to

obtain a glimpse of the six thousand bemired and begrimed soldiers

who were marching proudly to the Gran Plaza. But six months before,

Winfield Scott had landed on the Mexican coast; since then he had

stormed the two strongest places in the country, won four battles in

the field against armies double, treble, and quadruple his own, and

marched without reverse from Vera Cruz to the city of Mexico; losing

fewer men, making fewer mistakes, and creating less devastation, in

proportion to his victories, than any invading general of former times.

SYNOPSIS OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS, CHIEFLY MILITARY, BETWEEN THE

CONQUEST OF MEXICO, 1847, AND THE BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER, 1861

1848. Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo between the United States and Mexico.

Admission of Wisconsin into the Union. Congress passes an act for

the organization of Oregon Territory. Migration of the Mormons to

Great Salt Lake. Zachary Taylor elected President. Formation of the

Free-Soil party. Discovery of gold in California.

1850. The United States and Great Britain conclude the Clayton-Bulwer

Treaty regarding a water route across Central America. On the death of

Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore succeeds to the Presidency. New Mexico

and Utah are organized as territories, and the “Clay Compromise,”

providing for the admission of California as a free state, is adopted.

Slavery in the District of Columbia is abolished.

1851. Unsuccessful filibustering expedition, under Lopez, against Cuba.

Arrival of Louis Kossuth in the United States.

1852. Franklin Pierce elected President.

1853. Organization of Washington Territory. The Kane Arctic expedition

in search of Sir John Franklin.

1854. Repeal of the Missouri Compromise, limiting slave territory in

the United States, and passage of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, making

slavery optional in the new territories. The “Ostend Manifesto”

recommends the purchase of Cuba by the United States. Passage of the

commercial reciprocity treaty between the United States and Canada

(abrogated in 1866). Commodore Perry concludes a treaty with Japan.

1855. A Pro-Slavery legislature organizes in Kansas. A Free-State

convention draws up the Topeka Constitution. William Walker, with a

force of filibusters, invades Nicaragua. Opening of the railway across

the Isthmus of Panama.

1856. Civil war in Kansas. James Buchanan elected President.

1857. Victory of the Free-State party at the polls in Kansas. A

Pro-Slavery convention draws up the Lecompton Constitution. Dred Scott

decision. Mormon rebellion in Utah. Financial panic in the United

States and Europe.

1858. Admission of Minnesota into the Union. Kansas rejects the

Lecompton Constitution. Senator Douglas debates. Partial establishment

of transatlantic telegraphic communication.

1859. Admission of Oregon into the Union. John Brown’s raid into West

Virginia. His capture, trial, and execution. Petroleum discovered in

the United States. San Juan islands occupied by General Harney.

1860. Abraham Lincoln elected President. Secession of South Carolina.

Kansas prohibits slavery within its boundaries. Lewis Cass, Secretary

of State, resigns because President Buchanan refused to reinforce Major

Anderson at Fort Moultrie, S. C.

1861. Secession of Mississippi, January 9th, followed by Florida,

Alabama, Georgia, Texas, and Louisiana. Admission of Kansas into the

Union. Jefferson Davis elected president of the Confederate States of

America on February 7th. Bombardment of Fort Sumter.

XV

FORT SUMTER, 1861

I

DRIFT TOWARD SOUTHERN NATIONALIZATION (1850–1860)

Seventy-two years after the adoption of the Constitution, called into

being to form “a more perfect union,” and eighty-five years after the

declaration of independence (a space completely covered by the lives

of men still living), a new confederacy of seven Southern states was

formed, and the great political fabric, the exemplar and hope of every

lover of freedom throughout the world, was apparently hopelessly rent.

Of these seven states but two were of the original thirteen--Louisiana

and Florida had been purchased by the government of the Union; a

war had been fought in behalf of Texas; two states, Alabama and

Mississippi, lay within original claims of Georgia, but had been ceded

to the Union and organized as Federal territories.

April 11, 1861, found a fully organized separate government established

for these seven states, with a determination to form a separate nation,

most forcibly expressed by the presence of an army at Charleston,

South Carolina, which next day was to open fire upon a feebly manned

fort, and thus to begin a terrible civil war. The eight other slave

states were in a turmoil of anxiety, leaning toward their sisters of

the farther South through the common sympathy which came of slavery,

but drawn also to the Union through tradition and appreciation of

benefits, and through a realization by a great number of persons that

their interests in slavery were much less than those of the states

which had already seceded.

The North, in the middle of April, was only emerging from a condition

of stupefied amazement at a condition which scarcely any of its

statesmen, and practically none of the men of every-day life, had

thought possible. It was to this crisis that the country had been

brought by the conflicting views of the two great and strongly

divided sections of the Union respecting slavery, and by the national

aspirations which, however little recognized, were working surely in

each section, but upon divergent lines.

* * * * *

The outward manifestations in the history of the separation of the

North and the South stand out in strong relief: the Missouri question;

the protective tariff and South Carolina nullification; the abolition

attacks which wrought the South into a frenzy suicidal in character

through its impossible demands upon the North for protection; the

action of the Southern statesmen in the question of petitions; the

passage of a fugitive-slave law which drove the North itself to

nullification; the Kansas-Nebraska act and its outcome of civil

war in the former territory; the recognition, in the dicta of the

supreme court in the Dred Scott case, of the South’s contention of

its constitutional right to carry slavery into the territories, and

the stand taken by the North against any further slavery extension.

To these visible conflicts were added the unconscious workings of

the disruptive forces of a totally distinct social organization. The

outward strifes were but the symptoms of a malady in the body politic

of the Union which could have but one end, unless the deep, abiding

cause, slavery, should be removed.[135]

The president and vice-president of the Southern Confederacy, in

their elaborate defences written after the war, have endeavored to

rest the cause of the struggle wholly on constitutional questions.

Stephens, whose book, not even excepting Calhoun’s utterances, is the

ablest exposition of the Southern reading of the Constitution, says:

“The struggle or conflict, ... from its rise to its culmination, was

between those who, in whatever state they lived, were for maintaining

our Federal system as it was established, and those who were for a

consolidation of power in the central head.”[136] Jefferson Davis

is even more explicit. “The truth remains,” he says, “intact and

incontrovertible, that the existence of African servitude was in

no wise the cause of the conflict, but only an incident. In the

later controversies ... its effect in operating as a lever upon the

passions, prejudices, or sympathies of mankind was so potent that it

has been spread like a thick cloud over the whole horizon of historic

truth.”[137]

This is but begging the question. The constitutional view had its

weight for the South in 1860 as it had for New England in the

Jefferson-Madison period. Jefferson’s iron domination of the national

government during his presidency, a policy hateful to New England,

combined with the fear of being overweighted in sectional influence by

the western extension through the Louisiana purchase, led to pronounced

threats of secession by men of New England, ardently desirous of

escaping from what Pickering, one of its most prominent men, termed

the Virginian supremacy.[138] Exactly the same arguments were used,

_mutatis mutandis_, later by the South.

As we all know, the movement, which never had any real popular support

and which had its last spasm of life in the Hartford Convention at

the close of the War of 1812, came to naught. Freed by the fall of

Napoleon and the peace with England from the pressure of the upper

and nether mill-stones which had so ground to pieces our commerce, a

prosperity set in which drowned the sporadic discontent of the previous

twenty years. The fears of the Eastern states no longer loomed so high

and were as imaginary in fact, and had as slight a basis, as were, in

the beginning of the era of discord, those of the South. Could slavery

have been otherwise preserved, the extreme decentralizing ideas of the

South would have disappeared with equal ease, and Stephens’ _causa

causans_--“the different and directly opposite views as to the nature

of the government of the United States, and where, under our system,

ultimate sovereign power or paramount authority properly resides,”

would have had no more intensity of meaning in 1860 than to-day.

Divergence of constitutional views, like most questions of government,

follow the lines of self-interest; Jefferson’s qualms gave way before

the great prize of Louisiana; one part of the South was ready in 1832

to go to war on account of a protective tariff; another, Louisiana,

was at the same time demanding protection for her special industry.

The South thus simply shared in our general human nature, and fought,

not for a pure abstraction, as Davis and Stephens, led by Calhoun,

would have it, but for the supposed self-interest which its view of the

Constitution protected. Its section, its society, could not continue to

develop in the Union under the Northern reading of the document, and

the irrepressible and certain nationalization, so different from its

own tendencies, to which the North as a whole was steadily moving.

Slavery drove the South into opposition to the broad, liberal movement

of the age. The French Revolution; the destruction of feudalism by

Napoleon; the later popular movements throughout Europe and South

America; the liberalizing of Great Britain; the nationalistic ideas

of which we have the results in the German empire and the kingdom of

Italy, and the strong nationalistic feeling developing in the northern

part of the Union itself had but little reflex action in the South

because of slavery and the South’s consequent segregation and tendency

to a feudalistic nationalization.

II

STATUS OF THE FORTS (OCT. 29, 1860–DEC. 20, 1860)

General Scott, with his memories of 1832, was one of those who

appreciated the danger hanging over the country, and, October 29,

1860, he wrote from New York, where he had his headquarters, a letter

of great length to the President, which in pompous phrases, conceding

the right of secession, and embodying some absurd ideas, such as

allowing “the fragments of the great republic to form themselves into

new confederacies, probably four,” as a smaller evil than war, gave

it as his “solemn conviction” that there was, from his knowledge of

the Southern population, “some danger of an early act of rashness

preliminary to secession, viz.: the seizure of some or all of the

following posts: Forts Jackson and St. Philip on the Mississippi;

Morgan below Mobile, all without garrisons; Pickens, McKee at

Pensacola, with an insufficient garrison for one; Pulaski, below

Savannah, without a garrison; Moultrie and Sumter, Charleston harbor,

the former with an insufficient garrison, the latter without any; and

Fort Monroe, Hampton Roads, with an insufficient garrison.”

He gave it as his opinion that “all these works should be immediately

so garrisoned as to make any attempt to take any one of them by

surprise or _coup de main_ ridiculous.” He did not state the number of

men needed, but in a supplementary paper the next day (October 30th)

said, “There is one (regular) company in Boston, one here (at the

Narrows), one at Pittsburg, one at Baton Rouge--in all, five companies

only within reach.”[139] These five companies, about two hundred and

fifty men, were of course absurdly inadequate to garrison nine such

posts, but, had there been a determination in the President’s mind to

prevent seizures, enough men could have been brought together to hold

the more important points.

For Scott’s statement as to the number available was grossly

inaccurate, and but serves to show the parlous state of a war

department in which the general-in-chief can either be so misinformed

or allow himself to remain in ignorance of vital facts. There were but

five points in the farther South of primal importance: the Mississippi,

Mobile, Pensacola, Savannah, and Charleston; two hundred men at each

would have been ample to hold the positions for the time being, and,

being held, reinforcement in any degree would later have been easy.

There was a total of 1048 officers and men at the Northern posts,[140]

including Leavenworth, Mackinac, Plattsburg, Boston, New York, and

Fort Monroe, who could have been drawn upon. There were already 250

men at Charleston, Key West, Pensacola, and Baton Rouge. It is safe

to say that a thousand men were available. There were also some eight

hundred marines at the navy-yards and barracks[141] who could have

been used in such an emergency. The aggregate of the army, June 30,

1860, was 16,006, of which 14,926 were enlisted men; and it was in the

power of the President to increase this total aggregate to 18,626.[142]

Recruiting was, in fact, actively going on; almost every man at the

posts mentioned could, even much after the date of Scott’s paper, have

been safely withdrawn for the object mentioned and quickly replaced.

Scott’s inaccurate report gave Buchanan additional reason for the

inaction which was his basic thought. He says, in his _apologia_,

that “to have attempted to distribute these five companies in the

eight forts of the cotton states and Fortress Monroe in Virginia,

would have been a confession of weakness.... It could have had no

effect in preventing secession, but must have done much to provoke

it.”[143] The first part of this statement would have been true had

these five companies been the only force available; the second, on the

supposition that the President meant that any attempt with a force

reasonably large would have provoked secession, was a short-sighted

view. To garrison the forts could not have been more obnoxious than

to put them in a state of defence. At any time before the secession

of a state they could have been garrisoned without bringing on actual

conflict. The statesmen of the South were well aware that an attack

upon an armed force of the United States, before secession, must place

them irretrievably in the wrong. South Carolina did not secede until

December 20th. To resist the sending of troops before this date to any

of these forts would have been unqualified treason, and for this no one

in the South was prepared. The safety of the secession movement, the

extension of sympathy throughout the South, rested very greatly upon

strict compliance with the forms of law and with the theories of the

Constitution held by that section. At least one ardent secessionist,

Judge Longstreet, recognized this when he appealed to South-Carolinians

to refrain from any act of war; “let the first shot,” he said, “come

from the enemy. _Burn that precept into your hearts._”[144] It was

impossible that the Southern leaders should place themselves, or allow

their people to place them, in the attitude of waging war against the

Union while even in their own view their states still remained within

it. There was, too, still a very large Union sentiment in the South,

though finally swept into the vortex by the principle of going with

the state, which would not have been averse to a determined action on

the part of the President and might have upheld it, as in 1833. Such

vigor would have given this sentiment a working basis, through the

evidence that the Federal authority was to be upheld; and it would have

caused a pause even in the least thoughtful of the secessionists had

they felt that their coast strongholds were to be held and all their

ports to be in the hands of the enemy. In the dearth of manufactures

in the South, the holding of their ports was an essential to Southern

military success. Their closure by blockade was equally an essential

to the success of the North. The strategy of the situation was of

the clearest and most palpable, and with their coast forts in Union

hands warlike action on the part of the South is not conceivable.

One can thus understand the importance of spreading the reiterated

statements of “intense excitement” and “danger of attack” in the event

of reinforcement; statements which, in the circumstances, must be

regarded, if the phrase may be used, in the nature of a gigantic and

successful “bluff.”

* * * * *

The military property of the United States at Charleston consisted

of the armory, covering a few acres, where were stored twenty-two

thousand muskets and a considerable number of old, heavy guns, and

of three forts named for South-Carolinians of Union-wide fame. The

smallest of these, Castle Pinckney, was a round, brick structure, in

excellent condition, on a small island directly east of the town and

distant from the wharves but half a mile. It completely commanded

the town, and had a formidable armament of four forty-two-pounders,

fourteen twenty-four-pounders, and four eight-inch sea-coast howitzers.

The powder of the arsenal was here stored. The only garrison was an

ordnance sergeant, who, with his family, looked after the harbor light

which was in the fort.

Almost due east again, and three miles distant, was Fort Moultrie, on

the south end of Sullivan’s Island, a low sand-spit forming the north

side of the harbor entrance. The work had an area of one and a half

acres, and mounted fifty-five guns in barbette. The drifting sands

had piled themselves even with the parapet, and the work was in such

condition as to be indefensible against a land attack. The whole was

but of a piece with the long-continued neglect arising from many years

of peace and the optimistic temperament of a people who never believe

that war can occur until it is upon them; it was the natural outcome of

the almost entire absence of governmental system and forethought of the

time. The fort was garrisoned by two companies, comprising sixty-four

enlisted men and eight officers, of the First regiment of artillery;

the surgeon, band, a hospital steward, and an ordnance sergeant brought

the total up to eighty-four.

Almost south of Moultrie was Cummings Point, on Morris Island, forming

the southern side of the harbor entrance. Nearly midway between this

point and Moultrie, but a half-mile within the line joining them, and

distant three and a half miles from the nearest part of the city,

was Fort Sumter, begun in 1829, and after thirty-one years not yet

finished. Built on a shoal covered at most stages of the tide, it rose

directly out of the water, with two tiers of casemates, and surmounted

by a third tier of guns in barbette. In plan it was very like the

transverse section of the ordinary American house, the apex of the two

sides representing the lines of the roof, looking toward Moultrie.

It was intended for a garrison of six hundred and fifty men and an

armament of one hundred and forty-six guns, of which seventy-eight were

on hand.

On a report made in July by Captain J. G. Foster, repairs on Moultrie

were begun September 14th, and next day upon Sumter, some two hundred

and fifty men being employed. The sand about the walls of Moultrie was

removed, a wet ditch dug, a glacis formed, the guardhouse pierced with

loop-holes, and the four field-guns placed in position for flank attack.

At the end of October, Captain Foster, foreseeing events, requested the

issue of arms to the workmen to protect property, and the Secretary

of War approved the issue of forty muskets, if it should meet the

concurrence of the commanding officer. Colonel Gardner, in reply,

November 5th, doubted the expediency, as most of the laborers were

foreigners, indifferent to which side they took, and wisely advised,

instead, filling up “at once” the two companies at Moultrie with

recruits and sending two companies from Fort Monroe to the two other

forts.[145] The requisition was thus held in abeyance, and the muskets

remained at the arsenal. When, only two days later, Gardner, urged

by the repeated solicitations of his officers, directed the transfer

of musket ammunition to Moultrie, the loading of the schooner was

objected to by the owner of the wharf, and the military store-keeper,

under apparently very inadequate pressure, returned the stores to the

arsenal. A permit, given by the mayor of Charleston next day, for the

removal was very properly declined by Gardner, on the ground that the

city authorities could not control his actions.[146]

The affair, however, cost Gardner his command, by a process described

by the Assistant Secretary of State, Trescot: “I received a telegram

from Charleston, saying that intense excitement prevailed, ... and

that, if the removal was by orders of the Department of War, it

ought to be revoked, otherwise collision was inevitable. Knowing the

Cabinet were then in session, I went over to the White House.... I

took Governor Floyd aside, and he was joined, I think, by Messrs.

Cobb and Toucey, and showed them the telegram. Governor Floyd

replied, ‘Telegraph back at once; say that you have seen me, that no

such orders have been issued, and none such will be issued, under

any circumstances.’” Floyd, a day or so later, gave Trescot “his

impressions of the folly of Colonel Gardner’s conduct, and his final

determination to remove him and supply his place with Major Robert

Anderson, in whose discretion, coolness, and judgment he put great

confidence. He also determined to send Colonel Ben. Huger to take

charge of the arsenal, believing that his high reputation, his close

association with many of the most influential people in Charleston,

and the fact of his being a Carolinian, would satisfy the state of the

intention of the government.”[147]

That Floyd himself was in an uncertain state of mind is shown by his

willingness to begin and continue the work upon the forts; that his

mental state did not permit logical action is clear from his temper

and attitude regarding the transfer of musket ammunition November

7th, though but the week before (October 31st) he had authorized the

transfer of the muskets themselves.

Major Fitz-John Porter, of the adjutant-general’s office, later the

able and ill-treated general, was sent to Charleston to inspect the

conditions. His report, made November 11th, revealed the military

inefficiency almost inseparable from a post so neglected and

ill-manned, and subject to the lazy peace conditions of the period. He

said: “The unguarded state of the fort invites attack, if such design

exists, and much discretion and prudence are required on the part

of the commander to restore the proper security without exciting a

community prompt to misconstrue actions of authority. I think this can

be effected by a proper commander without checking in the slightest the

progress of the engineer in completing the works of defence.” Major

Porter continues with a most significant phrase, “All could have been

easily arranged a few weeks since, when the danger was foreseen by the

present commander.”[148]

November 15th, Anderson was ordered to the command. A Kentuckian by

birth, his wife a Georgian, his views in sympathy with those of General

Scott, he appeared to be and, as results proved, was in many respects

particularly fitted for the post; by November 23d he was able to report

that in two weeks the outer defences of Moultrie would be finished

and the guns mounted, and that Sumter was ready for the comfortable

accommodation of one company, and, indeed, for the temporary reception

of its proper garrison. “This,” he said, “is the key to the entrance

to this harbor; its guns command this work [Moultrie] and could drive

out its occupants. It should be garrisoned at once.... So important

do I consider the holding of Castle Pinckney by the government that

I recommend, if the troops asked for cannot be sent at once, that

I be authorized to place an engineer detachment [of an officer and

thirty workmen] ... to make the repairs needed there.... If my force

was not so very small, I would not hesitate to send a detachment at

once to garrison that work. Fort Sumter and Castle Pinckney _must_ be

garrisoned immediately if the government determines to keep command of

this harbor.”

Anderson proceeded to give advice which sane judgment and every

sentiment of national honor demanded. After mentioning his anxiety to

avoid collision with the citizens of South Carolina, he said: “Nothing,

however, will be better calculated to prevent bloodshed than our being

found in such an attitude that it would be madness and folly to attack

us. There is not so much feverish excitement as there was last week,

but that there is a settled determination to leave the Union, and

obtain possession of this work, is apparent to all.... The clouds are

threatening, and the storm may break upon us at any moment. I do, then,

most earnestly entreat that a reinforcement be immediately sent to this

garrison, and that at least two companies be sent at the same time to

Fort Sumter and Castle Pinckney.” Anderson also stated his belief that

as soon as the people of South Carolina learned that he had demanded

reinforcements they would occupy Pinckney and attack Moultrie; and

therefore it was vitally important to embark the troops in war steamers

and designate them for other duty as a blind.[149] Captain Foster,

November 24th, reported the whole of the barbette tier of Sumter

ready for its armament and as presenting an excellent appearance of

preparation and strength equal to seventy per cent. of its efficiency

when finished.[150] He said, November 30th, “I think more troops

should have been sent here to guard the forts, and I believe that no

serious demonstration on the part of the populace would have met such a

course.”[151]

The work on the forts was, of course, well known to the people of

Charleston, and that at Moultrie, at least, subject to daily inspection

by many visitors. There was still no restriction “upon any intercourse

with Charleston, many of whose citizens were temporary residents of

Sullivan’s Island. The activity about the fort drew to it a large

number of visitors daily, and the position of the garrison and the

probable action of the state in regard to the forts were constant

subjects of discussion. There was as yet no unfriendly feeling

manifested, and the social intercourse between the garrison and their

friends in Charleston was uninterrupted. But as the days went on the

feeling assumed a more definite shape, and found expression in many

ways.... It was openly announced, both to the commanding officer and

to his officers, that as soon as the state seceded a demand for the

delivery of the forts would be made, and, if resisted, they would be

taken.... Meantime, all of the able-bodied men in Charleston were

enrolled, military companies were formed everywhere, and drilling went

on by night and day, and with the impression among them that they were

to attack Fort Moultrie.”[152] November 28th and December 1st, Anderson

again pressed for troops or for ships of war in the harbor;[153] but

his last request was anticipated in a letter of the same date, when

he was informed by the War Department, “from information thought to

be reliable, that an attack will not be made on your command, and the

Secretary has only to refer to his conversation with you and to caution

you that, should his convictions unhappily prove untrue, your actions

must be such as to be free from the charge of initiating a collision.

If attacked, you are of course expected to defend the trust committed

to you to the best of your ability.”[154]

A demand being made by the adjutant of a South Carolina regiment on

the engineer officer at Moultrie for a list of his workmen, “as it was

desired to enroll the men upon them for military duty,”[155] Anderson

asked for instructions. The War Department replied, December 14th,

“If the state authorities demand any of Captain Foster’s workmen on

the ground of their being enrolled into the service of the state, ...

you will, after fully satisfying yourself that the men are subject

to enrolment, and have been properly enrolled, ... cause them to be

delivered up or suffer them to depart.” Banality could go no further,

and Anderson, December 18th, informed the department that, as he

understood it, “the South Carolina authorities sought to enroll as a

part of their army intended to act against the forces of the United

States men who are employed by and in the pay of that government, and

could not, as I conceived, be enrolled by South Carolina ‘under the

laws of the United States and of the state of South Carolina.’” No

answer was vouchsafed to this, and the request was not complied with.

Anderson’s repeated statements of the necessity of the occupancy of

Sumter, without which his own position was untenable, led to the

despatch of Major Buell, a Kentuckian, and later a major-general of

United States volunteers, with verbal instructions, which, however,

on Buell’s own motion, and with the thought that Anderson should

have written evidence, were reduced, December 11th, to writing. This

memorandum is of such importance that it must be given in full.

“You are aware of the great anxiety of the Secretary of War that a

collision of the troops with the people of this state shall be avoided,

and of his studied determination to pursue a course with reference to

the military force and forts in this harbor which shall guard against

such a collision. He has therefore carefully abstained from increasing

the force at this point, or taking any measures which might add to the

present excited state of the public mind, or which would throw any

doubt on the confidence he feels that South Carolina will not attempt,

by violence, to obtain possession of the public works or interfere with

their occupancy. But as the counsels and acts of rash and impulsive

persons may possibly disappoint those expectations of the government,

he deems it proper that you should be prepared with instructions to

meet so unhappy a contingency. He has therefore directed me verbally to

give you such instructions. You are carefully to 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 in the assumption of a hostile attitude. But

you are to hold possession of the forts in the harbor, and if attacked

you are 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 one 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.”[156]

These instructions did not come to the President’s knowledge until

December 21st, though a despatch from Washington, December 13th,

published in the _Charleston Courier_, announced Major Buell’s visit;

when made known to the President, he directed them to be modified,

ordering that if “attacked by a force so superior that resistance

would, in your judgment, be a useless waste of life, it will be your

duty to yield to necessity and make the best terms in your power.”[157]

December 3d, Anderson placed Lieutenant Jefferson C. Davis with thirty

men in Castle Pinckney, and began work there. Action upon a request for

arms for the workmen at Sumter and Pinckney was deferred by the War

Department “for the present,” but Captain Foster going to the arsenal,

December 17th, for two gins for hoisting, “to the transmission of which

there was no objection,” arranged with the store-keeper that the old

order of the Ordnance Department of November 1st, for forty muskets,

should be complied with, which was done. “Intense excitement” as usual

was reported the next day to have occurred; there was the reiteration

of great danger of “violent demonstration” from a military official of

the state who called upon Foster, and who stated that Colonel Huger

had informed the governor that no arms should be removed. Foster

declined to return the arms, stating that he knew nothing of Huger’s

pledge, but was willing to refer the matter to Washington. Trescot

was informed by telegraph that “not a moment’s time should be lost.”

The Secretary of War was aroused in the depths of the night, and the

result was a telegraphic order from Floyd himself to “return [the

arms] instantly.”[158] The go-between Assistant Secretary of State, so

busily engaged with affairs not his own, received from the aide-de-camp

of Governor Pickens the telegram: “The Governor says he is glad of

your despatch, for otherwise there would have been imminent danger.

Earnestly urge that there be no transfer of troops from Fort Moultrie

to Fort Sumter and inform Secretary of War.”[159] Captain Foster,

explaining to the War Department, December 20, 1860, says, “when in

town to see General Schnierle and allay any excitement relative to the

muskets, I found to my surprise that there was no excitement except

with a very few who had been active in the matter, and the majority of

the gentlemen whom I met had not even heard of it.”[160]

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]

[Illustration: SERGEANT HART NAILING THE COLORS TO THE FLAG-STAFF, FORT

SUMTER]

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?”

[Illustration: CHARLESTON HARBOR

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.