Chapter One.

The Saga Of  Fort Sumter.

The Beginning.

Map of Charleston Harbor

     The War of 1812 and especially the burning of Washington, D. C. by the British during that inglorious armed conflict had demonstrated that America’s coastal defenses were woefully inadequate.  Improvements were imperative.  This realization prompted the Federal government to undertake a comprehensive inspection between 1817 and 1821 of the forts along the Atlantic coast and those along of the Gulf of Mexico.  In 1826, the Board of  Engineers for Seacoast Fortifications speculated in its official report emanating from this survey that it might be possible to construct a stronghold at Charleston, S. C. on the “shoal opposite” from Fort Moultrie, an updated Revolutionary War  citadel that stood near the southwestern end of Sullivan’s Island and just northeast of the main channel leading from the Atlantic Ocean into Charleston Harbor.   The new stronghold and Fort Moultrie, it was argued, could cooperate in bringing the mouth of the harbor under a scathing crossfire and thereby make the defense of Charleston “an easy and simple problem.” [1]   The recommendation was persuasive.  The Federal government therefore decided to move ahead with the construction of a citadel in the entrance to Charleston Harbor.

      The building of Fort Sumter, named for South Carolinian Thomas Sumter, the “Fighting Gamecock” of Revolutionary War fame, began during the winter of 1828-29.  Progress was slow.  The suffocating heat and humidity of Charleston summers, coupled with the almost constant presence of swarms of pesky mosquitoes, not infrequently spreading yellow fever among the sweat-soaked laborers, made working conditions unpleasant at best.  After activity had been suspended for several years due to a dispute concerning the authenticity of the deed which had conveyed the property to the Federal government, construction was resumed in earnest in late 1841.  Gradually rising approximately 50 feet above the rocky shoal at low tide, surrounded by water on all sides and sitting atop an artificial island, was a potentially formidable, three-story, brick and masonry pentagonal citadel with outer walls 5-feet thick and a parade ground of roughly one acre.

    Fort Sumter was still unfinished in 1860 despite near Herculean expenditures of energy and the outlay of more than $1 million. Congress, made complacent by years of peace,  had been close-fisted in allocating sufficient funds to complete the job.  In the fall of that year, when  secessionist sentiments were intensifying in South Carolina in anticipation of the election of Republican Abraham Lincoln as President, the situation  began to improve. Captain John Gray Foster (1823-1874) of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and chief of fortifications in Charleston Harbor continued to express concern, however, about the battle readiness of Fort Sumter and the other three forts at Charleston to the commander of the small Federal garrison there, fellow New Englander Lieutenant Colonel John Lane Gardner. [2]

    “The four forts in Charleston harbor in the fall of 1860 were splendid examples of government complacency and neglect,” says W. A. Swanberg in First Blood.  The Story of Fort Sumter . [3] On Shute’s Folly, a marsh-filled island only three-quarters of a mile east of the city’s docks, was Castle Pinckney, a small half-moon shaped fort manned by Ordnance Sergeant Skillen, his wife, and his fifteen-year-old daughter.  Skillen’s  responsibility was to keep the heavy guns oiled and lacquered in case they were needed to repel unwanted visitors.  Unless garrisoned, Castle Pinckney could probably have been captured by two men armed with little more than big sticks.  About three miles across Charleston Harbor from Fort Moultrie, on James Island, was Fort Johnson.  The situation there was even worse.  Fort Johnson was unoccupied and a virtual ruin.  As for Fort Sumter and Fort Moultrie, the latter serving as garrison headquarters, both were undergoing extensive repair and upfitting after June, 1860, when Congress finally allocated funds for improvements.  Hiring laborers in Charleston and recruiting others, principally masons from Baltimore, Md., Captain Foster was superintending major construction projects at both fortresses by the fall of 1860. [4]

     The Federal troops responsible for the defense of the four forts at Charleston were in a precarious position.  The ability of Lieutenant Colonel Gardner and his 82-man garrison to repulse an attack against Fort Moultrie was minimized both by the condition of the place and by the fact that the citadel had been designed to protect Charleston from attack from the sea, not from an assault by South Carolinians marching overland across Sullivan’s Island. [5]   “The contingency that the people of Charleston themselves might attack a fort intended for their own protection had never been anticipated,” wrote New York artilleryman Captain Abner Doubleday (1819-1893), who was second in command of the Charleston garrison. [6]   Once isolated, the citadel now had a resort village, Moultrieville, abutting it on both sides.  From the roofs of the houses in this beach community, as well as from sand hills or dunes just outside the stronghold,  sharpshooters could pick off troops who attempted to man the guns on Fort Moultrie’s parapets.  Moreover, heaps of wind-blown sand extended almost to the top of the fort’s seaface.  These large sand piles could serve as ramps to let attackers gain easy access to the interior of the citadel.  Even an occasional cow used that route as a way to waddle into Fort Moultrie. Captain Foster’s workmen had torn away entire sections of the outer walls by early November, had temporarily removed all the fort’s guns, and had scattered construction debris all over the parade ground at Fort Moultrie.  The place was a monumental mess.  “The unguarded state of the fort invites attack, if such design exists,”  commented Major Fitz John Porter, an inspector general who was sent by Washington to assess the military situation in Charleston in the fall of 1860. [7]

Slave States

      The commander of the Charleston garrison was no fighter.  According to Doubleday, “owing to his advanced age,” Lieutenant Colonel Gardner “was ill fitted to weather the storm that was about to burst upon us.” [8] Gardner would leave Fort Moultrie every evening, so he could spend the night comfortably ensconced in his house in nearby  Moultrieville. The garrison commander stayed at home and placed Doubleday in command one night in October, 1860, for example, when a boisterous crowd of secessionists gathered outside the citadel, pranced and cavorted about with blue cockades in their hats, and hurled insults at its defenders.   A man well into his 70’s who had served with distinction in the War of 1812 and the Mexican War, Gardner was also no disciplinarian. Pedestrians, including children, regularly strolled by the front gate of Fort Moultrie and sometimes even meandered inside the fortress itself. As for the troops inside Fort Moultrie, there were simply not enough of them.  “Our force was pitifully small, even for a time of peace and for mere police purposes,” Doubleday contended. [9]    

Abner Doubleday

   The situation at Fort Sumter was no better.  If garrisoned and completed, it could have been easily defended.  But in the fall of 1860  an amphibious attack against Fort Sumter would almost certainly have succeeded.  The only people there were about 140 unarmed laborers, many of who were residents of Charleston and staunch supporters of secession. These civilian workmen could be expected to welcome South Carolina troops who attempted to come ashore.  Moreover, just as at Fort Moultrie, Foster’s crews had dismounted all the guns and had punched holes in the citadel’s walls during the initial stages of constructing improvements.  Abner Doubleday speculated that the only reason South Carolina troops did not take control of Fort Sumter and Fort Moultrie was their belief that “the forts were to be made ready for active service, in order that they might be turned over in that condition to the Southern League.” [10]

    The behavior of certain Federal officials during the early stages of the crisis at Charleston Harbor defies simple explanation.  This is especially true with respect to President James Buchanan’s Secretary of War, John Buchanan Floyd (1806-1863). A native Virginian and former governor of Virginia, Floyd was sympathetic to the South. On November 5, 1860, Lieutenant Colonel Gardner sent a dispatch to Secretary Floyd, suggesting that the most expedient way to safeguard his command was to send more troops.  “I am constrained to say that the only proper precaution . . . is to fill these two companies with drilled recruits (say fifty men) at once, and send two companies from Old Point Comfort to occupy respectively Fort Sumter and Castle Pinckney,” the garrison commander wrote. [11]   Secretary Floyd refused to comply with Gardner’s request.   Floyd later confided to an official of the State Department that he would “cut off his right hand” before he would sign any order to reinforce the Charleston forts. The Secretary of War believed that sending reinforcements to Charleston would diminish the chances for a peaceful resolution of the  crisis.  He did, however, order Gardner to resist any effort by South Carolinians to take the forts by force. [12]    Put plainly, the Secretary of War sought to avoid any action that might induce the citizens of Charleston to attack the Federal installations but refused to provide Gardner with the men he would need to resist such an attack should it occur.

President James Buchanan

     President James Buchanan (1791-1868) shared these sentiments, at least as far as avoiding an armed confrontation at Charleston was concerned.  A Pennsylvania Democrat with a distinguished record of public accomplishment, including service in  both houses of Congress, as minister to Russia, and as Secretary of State under James K. Polk, Buchanan eschewed any act that might appear hostile to South Carolina.  He refrained from sending reinforcements to the Charleston forts, largely because of the impact such a move might have upon the other Southern states.  Not running for a second term, the President knew, even before November 6th, when Lincoln was elected to succeed him, that his occupancy of the White House would end on March 4, 1861.  Above all else, he wanted to postpone any outbreak of hostilities until after he had left office.  Buchanan anticipated that Lincoln’s victory would most likely prompt South Carolina to secede.

   Although President Buchanan believed that responsibility for the sectional crisis rested primarily with Northern antislavery agitators, he was determined to fulfill his Constitutional responsibilities to safeguard Federal property.  In Buchanan’s opinion, the most propitious course of action was for South Carolina Governor William H. Gist and his successors to refrain from attacking the forts until after their State had seceded, following which negotiations for a peaceful denouement of the impasse could commence, if necessary to be completed by the Lincoln administration.  The President was of the opinion that chances for an amicable settlement of the crisis were within reach as long as Gardner and his troops were not assaulted,.

    Unfortunately, the situation in Charleston did not lend itself to such tidy solutions.  Human emotion, even hotheadedness, were increasingly dictating the course of events. “The spark came at last which was to set fire to the magazine,” said Abner Doubleday.  “The startling news of Lincoln’s election reached Charleston on the 7 ^th   of November.” [13] “That settles the hash!”, South Carolina diarist Mary Boykin Chesnut overhead a Southern lady say when learning that Lincoln had been elected. [14] Despite Buchanan’s efforts to convince the South that it had little to fear from the Republicans, because the Democrats would continue to control both houses of Congress and the Supreme Court, South Carolina extremists, including young hooligans, were itching for a fight. Harvard-trained Andrew Magrath resigned his Federal judgeship at Charleston that very day and spoke passionately to a sympathetic crowd of secessionists.  “Fellow citizens,” he proclaimed, “the time for deliberation has passed. The time for action has come!” [15]   Groups of militiamen arrived by excursion steamboat at the Sullivan’s Island dock and hopped on horse-drawn streetcars that carried them right up to Fort Moultrie. Here they disembarked and began parading about, shouting insults at the soldiers, many of whom they knew personally. [16]   Bonfires were lit.  Muskets were fired  into the air.  The undermanned garrison, forced periodically to use officers’ wives as sentries, looked on in dismay, wondering when and where they might be attacked.

     Pressured by  subordinate officers to strengthen his defenses, Gardner directed Captain Truman Seymour (1824-1891) to take a small number of troops and go by schooner to the Federal arsenal in Charleston to obtain ammunition for small arms. [17]   Leaving shortly before sunset on November 8th, Seymour and his compatriots put on civilian clothes to avoid being easily detected. Things went well at first.  Seymour’s detail sailed across the harbor and tied up at a wharf at the edge of the Ashley River without incident.  Captain F. C. Humphreys, a Floridian who would later join the Confederacy, was in charge of the Charleston arsenal.  As ordered by Gardner the previous day, Humphreys released the percussion caps, primers and other requested items to Captain Seymour, who proceeded to take them back by cart to the wharf and load them onto the schooner.

      The state of affairs began to worsen, however. The owner of the dock soon became aware of what was transpiring, demanded that Seymour and his men desist, notified municipal authorities that military provisions were headed for Fort Moultrie, and requested instructions as to what he should do.  In the meantime an irate crowd of onlookers started gathering alongside the dock.  Anxiety began to grow.  Humphreys, afraid that violence would erupt, decided that the armaments “should be reconveyed to the magazine until something definite should be determined upon.” [18]   This was done. The military supplies were put back, and Seymour and his men returned to Fort Moultrie empty-handed.

      One would think that Federal authorities would have been pleased with what Gardner had attempted to accomplish.  In the convoluted world of Washington politics the truth was otherwise. Instead of commending the garrison commander for trying to fortify his position, Secretary of War Floyd was furious.  To his way of thinking, Gardner had taken a precipitate step that would make efforts to reach a compromise with Governor Gist even more arduous.  Asked by Assistant Secretary of State and South Carolinian William Henry Trescot whether the Secretary of War had authorized the effort to obtain supplies from the Charleston arsenal, Floyd responded that “no such orders have been issued and none such will be issued under any circumstances.” [19]   Colonel H. K. Craig, an ordinance officer in Washington, assured the Secretary of War that Gardner had not acted on instructions from Army headquarters.  “I am not aware by what authority Colonel Gardner undertook to give such an order,” he reported. [20]

     It was becoming increasingly obvious that Gardner had lost whatever credibility he had once enjoyed among his superiors, both civilian and military. Any doubts about Gardner’s standing  ended on  November 11, 1860, when Major Fitz John Porter, whom Floyd had dispatched to Charleston to investigate the situation, insisted that the “proper commander”  who possessed “much discretion and prudence” would be able to fortify his position “without exciting a community prompt to misconstrue actions of authority.” [21]   What was needed, Porter insisted, was someone in charge who would not unnecessarily raise the hackles of the local citizenry.  In Porter’s opinion, Gardner was not that man.  Secretary of War Floyd agreed.

Robert Anderson

     Floyd selected Major Robert Anderson (1805-1871), who was then on furlough in New York City, to replace Gardner as head of the Charleston garrison. [22]   On November 12 ^th , Anderson was summoned to Washington to meet with Floyd.  “The Secretary of War desires to see you, and directs that you proceed to this city and report to him without unnecessary delay,” the dispatch read. [23] As for Gardner, he was ordered on November 15 ^th   to “repair without delay to San Antonio, Texas, and report to the commanding officer of the Department of Texas.” [24]

     Secretary Floyd had good reason to believe that Anderson was the right man for the job of superintending military affairs in Charleston.  Himself a slaveowner until the previous year, when he had sold his slaves, Anderson was married to a Georgian, had served briefly at Fort Moultrie in 1845-46, and, above all else, was a Southerner.  Born near Louisville, Kentucky, the new commander instinctively understood the nuances of Southern culture, including its penchant for obliqueness and intricate ritual.  A devout Christian, Anderson hoped to avoid armed conflict; but, like President Buchanan, he was determined to protect Federal property.  After meeting with Floyd in Washington, at which time the Secretary of War emphasized that Anderson should do nothing to exacerbate the anxiety felt by South Carolinians, the new commander boarded a train and traveled to Charleston, where he arrived on November 21 ^st .  “In politics he was a strong pro-slavery man,” observed Abner Doubleday.  “Nevertheless, he was opposed to secession and Southern extremists.” [25]   Above all else, Anderson was a military realist.  He had  served for many years as an artillery instructor at West Point and was, therefore, thoroughly familiar with the science of fortifications. [26]

     On November 23 ^rd , Major Anderson reported on the results of his initial inspection of the Charleston forts.  He was deeply distressed.  The essential problem was that there were still not enough troops to repel a strenuous attack against the citadels for which he was responsible.  Not surprisingly, Anderson’s recommendations were almost identical to those that Gardner had advanced some three weeks earlier.  “I do, then, most earnestly entreat that a re-enforcement be immediately sent to this garrison, and that at least two companies be sent at the same time to Fort Sumter and Castle Pinckney,” he exclaimed. [27] Putting soldiers in Fort Sumter was essential, he believed, because otherwise South Carolina troops could occupy that citadel and turn its guns upon Fort Moultrie, thereby making the defense of the latter place even more difficult, if not virtually impossible.  As for Castle Pinckney, fortifying it would assure that Federal guns could bring the Charleston waterfront within artillery range.  “The Charlestonians would not venture to attack this place when they know that their city was at the mercy of the commander of Castle Pinckney,” Major Anderson insisted. [28]

John Gray Foster

    Underlying all of Anderson’s recommendations and actions was his desire to prevent the outbreak of hostilities.  “I need not say how anxious I am--indeed, determined, so far as honor will permit--to avoid collision with the citizens of South Carolina,” he stated in his report of November 23 ^rd . [29]   Like Secretary Floyd and President Buchanan, Anderson hoped that the crisis could be settled diplomatically.  Politics was not his business.  Military preparedness was.  Anderson sought to strengthen his defenses and thereby dissuade the South Carolinians from attacking.  This would hopefully give the politicians  enough time to negotiate a settlement that would allow Federal authorities to order Anderson and his men to vacate the forts.  To Anderson’s way of thinking, the best way to prevent bloodshed was for his command to become strong enough militarily to make the South Carolinians aware that they would pay a high price if they chose to initiate hostilities.  “With these three works garrisoned as requested, and with a supply of ordnance stores, for which I shall send requisitions in a few days, I shall feel that, by the blessing of God, there may be a hope that no blood will be shed, and that South Carolina will not attempt to take these forts by force, but will resort to diplomacy to secure them,” Anderson told his superiors. [30]

     A cardinal component of any military operation is that all responsible parties comprehend the purposes of the mission.  This is especially true when communications between key players are not instantaneous, as was the case in 1860-61. [31]   It is obvious that this quintessential circumstance of mutual understanding did not exist between Major Anderson and his military and governmental superiors in Washington, D.C.  Clearly, Secretary Floyd had not been totally forthcoming in his initial conversation with Anderson, particularly concerning the likelihood that additional troops would be sent to Charleston.  Otherwise, why was Anderson asking for more men?  Not hearing from Washington as to what actions he should take to build up his position, the commander of the Charleston garrison dispatched still another request for reinforcements on November 28 ^th .  “I hope that my command will very soon be strengthened,” he wrote. [32]

      Anderson went on to describe the remedial actions he was taking to galvanize his defenses, so that the South Carolinians would have no doubts about his willingness to fight.  “We finished mounting our guns this morning, and I shall soon commence drilling and exercising my men in firing with muskets and cannon,”  he proclaimed. [33]   Anderson was not alone in attempting to impress the local citizenry.  “With a view to intimidate those who were planning an attack, I occasionally fired toward the sea an eight-inch howitzer, loaded with double canister,” Abner Doubleday reported.  “The splattering of so many balls in the water looked very destructive, and startled and amazed the gaping crowds around.” [34] Anderson probably hoped that such demonstrations of resolve by his subordinates would help persuade Governor Gist and his compatriots to maintain the peace.  “I wish to practice our men with the different arms I may have to use.  God forbid, though, that I should do so,” the garrison commander wrote in his dispatch of November 28 ^th . [35]

John Buchanan Floyd

    Their defensive intent notwithstanding, Major Anderson’s remedial actions were heightening political tensions in Charleston and its environs.  “The excitement here is too great,” Anderson proclaimed. [36]   “Our Commander set about fortifying himself in Moultrie, with such unparalleled vigor that our opponents soon became thoroughly convinced that he intended to make a desperate stand in the position he then held,” wrote a private in the Charleston garrison several weeks later. [37]   One must take two factors into account in order to understand the feelings the local people had concerning the unfolding course of events in Charleston Harbor.  First, Fort Moultrie was a place of enormous patriotic  significance for most South Carolinians.  It was a powerful symbol of resistance to perceived tyranny.  It was here in June, 1776, during the American Revolutionary War, that local hero William Moultrie, for whom the citadel was subsequently named, had led the South Carolina militia in repulsing a British attack. [38]   Major Anderson shared these attachments.  His father had served in Fort Moultrie during the American Revolutionary War and had been captured by the redcoats in 1780.  “There appears to be a romantic desire urging the South Carolinians to have possession of this work, which was so nobly defended by their ancestors in 1776,” Anderson told his military superiors. [39]  The second reason for local concern about what was transpiring was more immediate and practical. Governor Gist and his associates feared that as long as the forts remained in Federal hands the possibility existed that additional men and weapons would be sent to Charleston, thereby making the task of capturing the citadels more difficult once South Carolina had seceded.  On November 28 ^th , Anderson reported that he had just met with Colonel Benjamin Huger (1805-1877), who was in temporary command of the Federal arsenal in Charleston.  Huger had told him that “there was the greatest excitement in the city on account of a rumor” that a ship was about to arrive with four companies of men.  “I told him that I had no intelligence of anything of the kind,” Anderson proclaimed. [40]

     On December 1 ^st ,  Secretary Floyd finally responded through channels to Anderson’s several requests for instructions. The message was ambiguous. While assuring Anderson that Federal authorities had learned from “sources thought to be reliable” that an attack against the forts would not occur, the dispatch told him “to defend the trust committed to you to the best of your ability.” The overall thrust of the communiqué, however, was to urge Anderson to continue to do nothing that would agitate the South Carolinians. “The increase of the force under your command, however much to be desired, would, the Secretary thinks, judging from the recent excitement produced on account of an anticipated increase, as mentioned in your letter, but add to that excitement, and might lead to serious results,” the message from Army Headquarters read.  In other words, no reinforcements would be provided. “. . . the Secretary has only to refer to his conversation with you, and to caution you that . . . your actions must be such as to be free from the charge of initiating a collision.” [41]   The dispatch ordered Colonel Huger to come to Washington to speak with Floyd about the situation   Apparently, the Secretary of War was endeavoring to make sure that no misunderstandings persisted concerning the guidelines Anderson was to follow.  If so, the Secretary’s efforts would prove to be futile. [42]

     Major Anderson remained apprehensive despite  assurances from Washington that no attack was imminent.  He was not overly concerned about what Governor Gist and other South Carolina officials might do, at least not until after South Carolina had seceded.  The chief danger in Anderson’s mind for now was  the possibility of an unauthorized assault by a  horde of local rowdies. On December 3 ^rd ,  he and Colonel Huger met with the Mayor of Charleston and several other prominent citizens.  “All seemed determined, as far as their influence or power extends, to prevent an attack by a mob on our fort; but all are equally decided in the opinion that the forts must be theirs after secession,” he reported. [43] Captain Foster had no doubts about what he thought the leaders of South Carolina would do once the State had left the Union.  “The plan of the leaders in this State,” he insisted on December 4 ^th ,  “appears to be, from all that I can see and hear, first, to demand the forts of the General Government, but to summon the immediate commanders, and, if refused, to attack at once.”  Foster went on to reiterate the absolute necessity of sending reinforcements.  If Federal authorities wanted to keep the forts, “troops must instantly  be sent, and in large numbers.” [44]

     On December 6 ^th ,  Anderson asked whether leveling the sand dunes that stood about 160 yards northeast of Fort Moultrie would “be construed into initiating a collision?” [45]   According to Abner Doubleday, South Carolina was planning to send “two thousand of the best riflemen in the State” to occupy these hills and the roofs of nearby houses “to shoot us down the moment we attempted to man our guns.” [46]   What about those houses in Moultrieville that overlooked the citadel?  “I would thank you also to inform me under what circumstances I would be justified in setting fire to or destroying the houses which afford dangerous shelter to an enemy,” Anderson wrote.  The commander of the Charleston garrison was even uncertain as to whether he could fire upon “an armed body which may be seen approaching our works.” [47]   Clearly, Anderson was awash in confusion about the limits of his authority.

     Hoping to set matters straight, Secretary of War Floyd sent Assistant Adjutant General Don Carlos Buell (1818-1898) to Charleston to convey orally to Anderson what Washington wanted him to do and, just as importantly, what it wanted him not to do.  Arriving on December 9 ^th ,  Buell went to Fort Moultrie to confer with Anderson.  At the end of their session, Buell suggested that it would be prudent to prepare a written summary of the instructions he had given to Anderson and to submit it to the Secretary of War for approval.  The contents of this memorandum deserve careful scrutiny, both because they summarized the thinking of Secretary Floyd and the Buchanan administration with respect to the crisis at Charleston and because they formed the basis of Anderson’s understanding of the discretionary powers he possessed to defend his position.  Unfortunately, instead of clarifying the situation, the memorandum added to the confusion, or at least that’s what subsequent developments were to demonstrate.  Its instructions were strikingly similar to those contained in the dispatch  sent to Anderson on December 1 ^st .

     As before, Secretary Floyd was convinced that no attack upon the forts was forthcoming unless Federal troops behaved pugnaciously.  He therefore had instructed Buell to tell Anderson “to avoid every act which would  needlessly tend to provoke aggression.”  “. . . you are not,” Buell went on to say, “to take up any position which could be construed into the assumption of a hostile attitude.”  Noting that the Secretary of War was most anxious that a “collision of troops with the people of this State shall be avoided,” the Assistant Adjutant General explained that Washington would abstain “from increasing the force at this point.”  Again, there were to be no reinforcements.  At the same time, however, Federal authorities did recognize that some “rash and impulsive persons” might decide on their own to strike at the forts.  In that circumstance, Buell intoned, “you are to defend yourself to the last extremity.”  Buell’s written summary ended with what would become a crucial statement about Anderson’s authority to transfer troops from Fort Moultrie to Castle Pinckney and Fort Sumter.  It stated that if any of the three Charleston forts were attacked, the commander of the garrison could place his men “into either of them” which he thought  “most proper to increase its power of resistance.”  “You are also authorized,” Buell wrote, “to take similar steps whenever you have tangible evidence of a design to proceed to a hostile act.” [48]   On December 11 ^th ,  Secretary Floyd reviewed the memorandum and proclaimed that it was “in conformity to my instructions to Major Buell.” [49]

     Ensuing events were to reveal that Floyd and Anderson put very different interpretations on the meaning of Buell’s memorandum, at least in terms of emphasis.  Anderson put greater weight on the admonition that he must take action to safeguard his command, even to the extent of  transporting his troops to Castle Pinckney or Fort Sumter if he discerned “tangible evidence” of the likelihood of hostile actions on the part of  South Carolinians.  Remember that Anderson believed that the most effective means to preserve chances for a peaceful settlement of the crisis was to strengthen his defenses.  Consequently, he would not be inattentive to events that would warrant the removal of Federal troops from Fort Moultrie and placing them in Fort Sumter, which by mid-December had become a much more formidable defensive stronghold.  Secretary of War Floyd, on the other hand, believed that the chances for a strike against the forts were remote and emphasized that if Anderson did nothing to agitate Governor Gist and his associates, the South Carolinians would enter into negotiations with the Federal government, and the crisis would be settled when President Buchanan eventually ordered Anderson and his men to vacate the forts.

     Most revealing in terms of Floyd’s and President Buchanan’s  state of mind was a dispatch that the Secretary of War sent to Anderson on December 21 ^st ,  the day after South Carolina had seceded from the United States.  Having already instructed the commander of the Charleston garrison not to level the sand dunes or destroy the houses just outside Fort Moultrie,  Floyd cautioned Anderson not to infer from the instructions he had received from Buell that “you are required to make a vain and useless sacrifice of your own life and the lives of the men under your command, upon a mere point of honor.”  “You are to exercise a sound military discretion on this subject,” Floyd maintained.  It is obvious that the Secretary of War and President Buchanan did not want Anderson to make a maximum effort to defend the forts if Francis W. Pickens (1805-1869), Governor of the newly independent South Carolina, ordered troops to move against them.  “It is neither expected nor desired that you should expose your own life or that of your men in a hopeless conflict in defense of these forts,” Floyd wrote.  “If they are invested or 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.”  Anderson, who received this dispatch on December 23 ^rd , was instructed to keep these orders “strictly confidential.” [50] He could not even show them to his subordinates.  Floyd assured Anderson that these directives were in keeping with President Buchanan’s intentions regarding the resolution of the crisis.

      Throughout December, 1860, President Buchanan persisted in searching for a peaceful settlement of the crisis.  Although he had consistently underscored his resolve to resist a forcible takeover of the forts, the President attempted to assuage whatever fears the South Carolinians had about Federal troops escalating  tensions.  On December 8 ^th ,  he met with the South Carolina members of Congress.  “We had an earnest conversation on the subject of these forts and the best means of preventing a collision between the parties, for the purpose of sparing the effusion of blood,” Buchanan exclaimed. [51]   The President suggested that his  visitors  put their proposals in writing and bring them back to him at some later date.  The South Carolinians in Congress returned on December 10 ^th .  The representatives stated that no attacks would be made against Anderson and his men before secession occurred and that none would happen thereafter while negotiations were underway between representatives of South Carolina and the United States “provided that no re-enforcements shall be sent into those forts, and their relative military status shall remain as at present.” [52]   Included among the proscribed items was the transfer of troops from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter.  The President responded that he could make no official commitments regarding this matter because Congress alone had the power to do so but that it was his policy not to alter the status quo.  When the South Carolina representatives requested that Buchanan put this pledge in writing, the President answered, “After all, this is a matter of honor among gentlemen; I do not know that any paper or writing is necessary; we understand each other.” [53]    This exchange led the South Carolinians and President Buchanan to believe mistakenly that an agreement had been reached whereby no alteration of Anderson’s circumstances, including putting soldiers into Fort Sumter, would come to pass until  representatives of an independent South Carolina and the United States had had an opportunity to enter into negotiations to forge a peaceful settlement of the crisis.  Unfortunately, nobody bothered to tell Anderson about this informal understanding and its implications for what he should do or not do.

     Meanwhile, the atmosphere in Charleston was becoming supercharged with tension.  Indeed, the ballyhoo and puffery surrounding the events of secession approximated the atmosphere of a carnival.  On December 20 ^th ,  at 6:30 P.M., one hundred and sixty-nine delegates gathered at St. Andrews Hall and began a solemn march to nearby Institute Hall, where a boisterous throng  waited to greet them.  Spread out across a table at the front of a large auditorium in Institute Hall was the Ordinance of Secession, or what the South Carolinians in favor of secession called the “New Declaration of Independence.”  The delegates were summoned forward in alphabetical order to sign.  “There was scarcely standing-room in the big hall for the eager crowd of witnesses, and the galleries were packed with ladies,” commented one observer. [54]   Finally, it was done.  The bells in the steeples at St. Michael’s Church and St. Philip’s Church proclaimed the momentous news.  South Carolina had withdrawn from the United States of America and now claimed to be an independent nation.  State flags were unfurled.  Roman candles streaked across the sky.  Bands played the “Marseillaise.”  Bonfires illuminated the night sky.  If only these ebullient South Carolinians could have foreseen the consequences of what they had just done! Their bellicose pronouncements notwithstanding, the secessionists  hoped that the crisis would be settled peacefully by direct negotiations with representatives of the United States.  Such was not to be.

    Across Charleston Harbor at Fort Moultrie stood Robert Anderson and his small band of Federal troops, watching fireworks burst in the air.  They probably felt very much alone.  As the sea breeze brought the sounds of celebration, however faintly,  to the ears of the tiny garrison, its commander was already contemplating a bold, decisive move.  Captain Foster had been urging Anderson for weeks to abandon Fort Moultrie, to destroy its guns, and to transport the entire garrison to Fort Sumter.  “With respect to the movement from Fort Moultrie to this fort, I must say that it met my unqualified approval inasmuch as I had always counseled it from the first,” Foster wrote in January, 1861. [55]   According to Doubleday, the principal reason for the transfer of troops was the belief that South Carolina forces were about to seize Fort Sumter, thereby sealing off the harbor entrance to all ships seeking to bring reinforcements and increasing the firepower the rebels could direct against Fort Moultrie.  So convinced was Foster that Castle Pinckney and Fort Sumter would be seized by the rebels that he procured 40 muskets from the Federal arsenal in Charleston on December 17 ^th ,  gave one musket to the ordnance sergeant at each of the citadels and placed the rest in the  magazines.  “They were actually needed to protect the public property,” Foster explained. [56]   When Secretary Floyd ordered that the muskets be returned to the arsenal to satisfy disgruntled South Carolinians, Foster insisted that protecting the forts could “now . . . only extend to keeping the gates closed and shutters fastened.” [57]   The enterprising engineer was determined to keep Fort Sumter out of rebel hands.  He even proposed that a wire be strung to Fort Moultrie from Fort Sumter so Federal troops could destroy Fort Sumter if the  South Carolinians moved to take it.  “I propose to connect a powerful Daniels battery with the magazine at Fort Sumter, by means of wires stretched across under water from Fort Sumter to Fort Moultrie, and to blow up Fort Sumter if it is taken by an armed force,” Foster wrote on December 19 ^th . [58]

     Speculations abounded in Charleston that Major Anderson was planning to vacate Fort Moultrie and move his troops to Fort Sumter.  “I regret exceedingly that an unfounded rumor of this kind should have obtained the serious attention of the governor of South Carolina,” proclaimed Foster on December 20 ^th . [59]   Governor Pickens took the precautionary step that very evening of ordering two steamers to patrol Charleston Harbor to prevent any effort Anderson might make to transfer troops to Fort Sumter or Castle Pinckney.  Foster noted that one of the boats took soundings near Fort Sumter and then moved about 600 yards away, where it remained all night with no lights showing.  A sentry at Castle Pinckney called out to the other steamer, asking those aboard why they were there?  “You will know in a week.”, Foster reported one of the crew as saying.  These developments persuaded Foster that “the military men of the city have their eyes fixed” upon seizing Fort Sumter and Castle Pinckney, and the chief engineer complained that he had “no means for Defense in Fort Sumter.” [60]

     Ironically, instead of convincing Anderson to stay put in Fort Moultrie, the appearance of the steamers persuaded the commander of the Federal garrison to do precisely what Governor Pickens was seeking to prevent.  From a strictly military perspective, transporting Federal troops to Fort Sumter had always made sense.  “Of all the fortifications in the harbor of Charleston, Fort Sumter must be looked upon as by far the most important, and it is now in condition, as regards its state of preparation, to resist any attack that will be made upon it, provided it be furnished with a proper garrison,” the Army’s chief engineer had advised Secretary Floyd on December 20 ^th . [61]   The problem for Anderson was that his orders stipulated that he could only undertake such a move if he had “tangible evidence” that the rebels were preparing to attack any of the four forts under his command.  “Anderson had been urged by several of us to remove his command to Fort Sumter, but he had invariably replied that he was specially assigned to Fort Moultrie, and had no right to vacate it without orders,” remembered Abner Doubleday. [62]   In Anderson’s opinion, the appearance of the steamers had finally provided the “tangible evidence of a design to proceed to a hostile act” that Secretary of War Floyd had approved as grounds for occupying the other citadels in Charleston Harbor. “. . . many things convinced me that the authorities of the State designed to proceed to a hostile act,” Anderson wrote from Fort Sumter on December 27 ^th .  “Under this impression I could not hesitate that it was my solemn duty to move my command from a fort which we could not probably have held longer than forty-eight to sixty hours, to this one, where my power of resistance is increased to a very great degree.” [63]

     Consider the obstacles that  Major Anderson faced in transporting his troops to Fort Sumter.  His garrison was vastly outnumbered and outgunned. Tactical surprise--an absolute necessity if the small band of troops under his command was to succeed in sailing unimpeded across the approximately 1900 yards of open water between Fort Moultrie and Fort Sumter--would be  difficult to achieve.  Charleston was rife with security leaks.  So concerned was Doubleday about spies opening and reading his mail that he devised an ingenious scheme by which he could communicate with his brother.  “My  brother and myself each owned copies of the same dictionary,” the New York artilleryman explained.  “Instead of using a word in my correspondence, I simply referred to its place in the book, by giving the number of the page, number of the column, and number of the word from the top of the page.” [64] Further complicating the situation for Anderson was the fact that South Carolina militiamen were encamped outside Fort Moultrie, keeping the Major and his men under close surveillance, ready to impede any attempt the Federal forces might make to march toward the shore. The only boats available for the perilous trip were the small, unarmed rowboats that Foster used routinely to take  laborers to Fort Sumter and back. There was practically no food at Fort Sumter,  not enough to support even Anderson’s tiny Federal garrison for more than a few days.  The wives and children of  many of the United States troops would have to accompany their husbands and fathers to the new site.  Even if Anderson delivered his men safely to their objective, he would have to face the possibility that the majority of the civilian workmen at Fort Sumter would attempt to prevent the Federal troops from landing.  And patrolling regularly offshore, smoke billowing from their stacks, their sidewheels churning the surface of the water into a turbulent froth, were the two steamers Governor Pickens had dispatched into Charleston Harbor. They were fully armed and ready to destroy Anderson and his men  if they dared to head toward Fort Sumter.

     Major Anderson planned his actions thoughtfully.  It was absolutely vital that the commander not share his scheme with others until the last possible moment. Even the majority of his immediate subordinates were not told beforehand. “He only communicated his design to the staff-officers, whose co-operation was indispensable, and he waited until the moment of execution before he informed the others of his intention,” Doubleday explained. [65]   Anderson had no choice but to be cagey.  To get the barges and schooners he needed to transport the provisions to Fort Sumter he resorted to the ruse of telling South Carolina authorities that  he was renting these vessels to carry the families of the troops at Fort Moultrie to Fort Johnson across Charleston Harbor, so that they would be safe in case hostilities broke out at some point in the near future.  Anderson, knowing that timing of his move to Fort Sumter was crucial, had initially planned to depart on Christmas Day.  Inclement weather forced him to wait until December 26 ^th. The time to depart would be just before sunset.  This would give the soldiers sufficient light to get to their boats and start for Fort Sumter but provide enough cover to afford the oarsmen a reasonable chance of avoiding detection.  “I notified the Major at nightfall that ‘all was ready,’” Captain Foster wrote several weeks later. [66]   The waiting was finally over.  The time for action had arrived.

    Suddenly, at twilight, the order came to make ready to leave in twenty minutes.  “So completely did our Commander keep his own counsel, that none in the garrison . . . ever dreamed that he contemplated a move,” said Private John Thompson. [67]   Soldiers scrambled to assemble their gear.  Not knowing what to expect, Doubleday was ordered by Anderson to take his company of about twenty men and head for the beach, where Foster’s boats were waiting about a quarter of a mile away on the northern shore or back side of Sullivan’s Island.  The gates of Fort Moultrie swung open. Anderson had planned well. Nobody saw Doubleday’s men set out for the shore. “There was not a human being in sight as we marched to the rendezvous, and we had the extraordinary good luck to be wholly unobserved,” Doubleday recalled. [68]   Private Thompson maintained that the South Carolina militiamen were inattentive because they believed that Anderson would never have expended so much energy strengthening Fort Moultrie if he had intended to abandon it.  Looking apprehensively toward the sand dunes and nearby rooftops in Moultrieville, the young troopers huffed and puffed their way across the island, suspecting but not knowing their precise destination.  After a few nervous minutes, they arrived undetected at the boats, which were partially hidden behind a rock jetty.  The oarsmen directed Doubleday and his men to their seats and  immediately cast off.  They moved around the southwestern tip of Sullivan’s Island and headed out into the harbor, continuously scanning the horizon for the approach of one of the dreaded South Carolina steamers.  Meanwhile, Captain Foster and a small detachment of troops manned the guns at Fort Moultrie.  “I stood by 6 guns, ready loaded, to fire at any steamer that attempted to interfere,” Foster reported. [69]

     One of the steamers did approach from town.  It stopped briefly close by to observe the rowboats filled with the men headed for Fort Sumter.  “While the steamer was yet afar off, I took off my cap, and threw open my coat to conceal the buttons,” Doubleday explained.  “I also made the men take off their coats, and use them to cover up their muskets, which were lying alongside the rowlocks.” [70] Anticipating the worst, Foster stood atop the parapet at Fort Moultrie, ready to let loose the first salvo of the war.  This was a moment of high tension.  Happily for Major Anderson and the entire Federal garrison, the steamer started up again, its commander apparently convinced that the men in the rowboats were some of Foster’s workmen.  Within minutes Doubleday’s company  arrived unannounced at Fort Sumter, scrambled onto the wharf and marched, bayonets extended, toward the front gate.  The civilian laborers were dumbfounded.  “There was no parleying, no explaining;  nothing but stern commands, silent astonishment, and prompt obedience,” proclaimed artilleryman James Chester. [71]   According to Doubleday, many of the workmen wore “secession emblems.”  “I at once formed my men, charged bayonets, drove the tumultuous mass inside the fort, and seized the guard-room, which commanded the main entrance,” he reported. [72]

     Firmly in control, Doubleday dispatched the rowboats back towards Fort Moultrie to pick up the rest of the troops.  Still unobserved by the enemy, the second contingent marched to the rock jetty on Sullivan’s Island, clambered aboard, and rowed undetected to Fort Sumter. Two signal cannons were then fired to summon the schooners and barges that Major Anderson had sent earlier that afternoon to Fort Johnson.  Aboard were two months’ provisions and the wives and children of many of the soldiers.  Everything came off without a hitch.  It was a masterful military operation. The next morning, Captain Foster and five other members of a rearguard detachment at Fort Moultrie moved quickly “to spike the guns, burn the carriages of those guns that pointed towards Fort Sumter, and blow up the flagstaff, so that none but the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ should ever float from it.”  Ordered by Anderson to come to Fort Sumter on December 27 ^th , the redoubtable engineer savored the significance of what the Federal troops had accomplished.  “They must have looked upon us as a mouse to play with and eat up at leisure; but we gave the cat the slip however, and are now safe in our hole,” Foster mused. [73]   The fundamental question was, “What would the cat do now?”  The answer was not long in coming.