Hearts Touched by Fire

by Harold Holzer

  A CASEMATE GUN DURING THE CONFLAGRATION.

  We were not sorry to see the quarters burn. They were a nuisance. Built for fire-proof buildings, they were not fire-proof. Neither would they burn up in a cheerful way. The principal cisterns were large iron tanks immediately under the roof. These had been riddled, and the quarters below had been deluged with water. Everything was wet and burned badly, yielding an amount of pungent piney smoke which almost suffocated the garrison.

  The scene inside the fort as the fire gained headway and threatened the magazine was an exciting one. It had already reached some of our stores of loaded shells and shell-grenades. These must be saved at all hazard. Soldiers brought their blankets and covered the precious projectiles, and thus the most of them were saved. But the magazine itself was in danger. Already it was full of smoke, and the flames were rapidly closing in upon it. It was evident that it must be closed, and it would be many hours before it could be opened again. During these hours the fire must be maintained with such powder as we could secure outside the magazine. A number of barrels were rolled out for this purpose, and the magazine door—already almost too hot to handle—was closed.

  It was the intention to store the powder taken from the magazine in several safe corners, covering it with damp soldiers’ blankets. But safe corners were hard to find, and most of the blankets were already in use covering loaded shells. The fire was raging more fiercely than ever, and safety demanded that the uncovered powder be thrown overboard. This was instantly done, and if the tide had been high we should have been well rid of it. But the tide was low, and the pile of powder-barrels rested on the riprapping in front of the embrasure. This was observed by the enemy, and some shell guns were turned upon the pile, producing an explosion which blew the gun at that embrasure clear out of battery, but did no further damage.

  The fire had now enveloped the magazine, and the danger of an explosion was imminent. Powder had been carried out all the previous day, and it was more than likely that enough had sifted through the cartridge-bags to carry the fire into the powder-chamber. Major Anderson, his head erect as if on parade, called the men around him; directed that a shot be fired every five minutes; and mentioned that there was some danger of the magazine exploding. Some of the men, as soon as they learned what the real danger was, rushed to the door of the magazine and hurriedly dug a trench in front of it, which they kept filled with water until the danger was considered over.

  [TOP] BARBETTE GUNS—EFFECT OF THE RAKING FIRE FROM FORT MOULTRIE. [BOTTOM] RUINS OF THE CASEMATES NEAR THE SALLY-PORT, AND OF THE FLAG-STAFF. FROM PHOTOGRAPHS.

  It was during this excitement that ex-Senator Wigfall of Texas visited the fort. It came the turn of one of the guns on the left face of the work to fire,—we were now firing once in five minutes,—and as the cannoneer approached for the purpose of loading, he discovered a man looking in at the embrasure. The man must have raised himself to the level of the embrasure by grasping the sill with his hands. A short but lively altercation ensued between the man and the cannoneer, the man pleading to be taken in lest he should be killed with his own shot and shell. He was hauled in, Thompson, the cannoneer, first receiving his sword, to the point of which a white handkerchief was attached, not by way of surrender, but for convenience. Once inside, the bearer asked to see Major Anderson. The major was soon on the spot and opened the conversation by asking, “To what am I indebted for this visit?” The visitor replied, “I am Colonel Wigfall, of General Beauregard’s staff. For God’s sake, Major, let this thing stop. There has been enough bloodshed already.” To which the major replied, “There has been none on my side, and besides, your batteries are still firing on me.” At which Wigfall exclaimed, “I’ll soon stop that,” and turning to Thompson, who still held the sword under his arm, he said, pointing to the handkerchief, “Wave that out there.” Thompson then handed the sword to Wigfall, saying, in substance, “Wave it yourself.” Wigfall received back his sword and took a few steps toward the embrasure, when the major called him back, saying, “If you desire that to be seen you had better send it to the parapet.” There was a good deal more said on the subject of the white flag both by Wigfall and the major which the writer cannot recall, but the end of it all was that a white flag was ordered to be displayed from the parapet at the request of Colonel Wigfall, and pending negotiations with him, which was instantly done, a hospital sheet being used for the purpose. Then the firing gradually ceased, and the major and his officers and Colonel Wigfall retired into the hospital bomb-proof, the only habitable room left. This was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

  Wigfall’s conference was not of long duration. He left the fort in the small boat which brought him from Morris Island, and which was manned by negroes. Shortly after his departure another small boat from Sullivan’s Island, containing officers in full uniform (Wigfall wore citizen’s dress with the sword), approached the fort. The officers in this boat were very much astonished and annoyed at being warned off by the sentinel, and compelled to show a white flag before they were permitted to approach. They were received by the officer of the day, who apologized for not meeting them afloat, saying that all our boats had been destroyed by shot or burned up. They were indignant at their reception, and demanded to know whether or not the fort had surrendered. What was said in reply was not distinctly heard by the writer, but it was believed to be a negative. The officer then asked what the white flag meant, and Wigfall’s name was mentioned in reply. About this time Major Anderson made his appearance, and the visitors, still talking in an indignant tone, addressed themselves to him. What was said seemed to be a repetition of what had just been said to the officer of the day. The major’s replies were inaudible where the writer of this stood, except when he raised his hand in a sweeping sort of gesture in the direction of Fort Moultrie, and said, “Very well, gentlemen, you can return to your batteries.” They did not return, however, immediately, but were conducted into the hospital where Wigfall had been, and remained there some time. When they left we learned that there would be no more firing until General Beauregard had time to hear from his Government at Montgomery.

  About 7 o’clock in the evening another white flag brought the announcement that the terms agreed upon between General Beauregard and Major Anderson had been confirmed, and that we would leave Fort Sumter the following day; which we did, after saluting our flag with fifty guns.

  * * *

  1 An amusing incident which illustrates this occurred during the election excitement in November, 1860. Elections in South Carolina were always peculiar. It could hardly be said that there were two parties, but there generally were two candidates for every office in the State. In such cases the candidates would each give a barbecue or feast of some kind to the voters, at which stump speeches were delivered in a somewhat florid style. The whole body of voters attended both entertainments, and it is to be feared decided rather upon the merits of the feast than the fitness of the candidate. At one of these entertainments on Sullivan’s Island, the regimental band attended,—hired as an attraction,—and such soldiers as were on pass gathered around the outskirts of the crowd which surrounded the open-air supper table. The supper was over, and the speaking had begun. Everything eatable had been devoured except a remnant of ham which rested on a platter in front of the chairman—who perhaps was also the candidate—at one end of the long table. The chairman was speaking, and the audience was enthusiastic. A storm of applause had just broken out at something the speaker had said, when a soldier, who had had his eyes on the fragment of ham for some time, deliberately mounted the table at the lower end, and carefully picking his steps among the dishes, walked to the chairman’s end, picked up the coveted fragment, and started on the return trip. The audacity of the man stunned the audience for a moment, but indignation soon got the better of astonishment, and the soldier was in some danger of rough treatment. But the chairman had his revolver out in a second, and holding it aloft proclaimed: “I’ll shoot the first man who interferes with that s
oldier.” And the soldier carried off the fragment. Of course he was drunk; but he could not have done the same thing without a drubbing in 1859. This anecdote—and others might be related—indicates the policy and perhaps the expectations of the secessionists in connection with the soldiers of Fort Moultrie.—J.C.

  2 The troops on the Star of the West consisted of 200 men, under Lieut. Charles R. Woods.—EDITORS.

  3 So faithful and true have the soldiers of the army always been that even very striking exhibitions of these qualities are not considered worthy of notice. There were military posts in 1861 which were abandoned by all the commissioned officers, at which not one of the enlisted men proved untrue. The loyalty of the latter has never been properly appreciated.—J.C.

  4 The non-commissioned officers in Fort Sumter were Ordnance-Sergeant James Kearney, U.S.A., Quartermaster-Sergeant William H. Hamner, 1st U.S. Artillery; Regimental Band, 1st Artillery: Sergeant James E. Galway, Corporal Andrew Smith; Company E, 1st Artillery: First Sergeant Eugene Scheibner, Sergeants Thomas Kirnan, William A. Harn, and James Chester, Corporals Owen M’Guire, Francis J. Oakes, Charles Bringhurst, and Henry Ellerbrook; Company H, 1st Artillery: First Sergeant John Renehan, Sergeants James M’Mahon, John Carmody, and John Otto, Corporal Christopher Costolan.—EDITORS.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE FIRST STEP IN THE WAR.

  Stephen D. Lee, Lieutenant-General, C.S.A.

  In the month of December, 1860, the South itself had no more realizing sense than the North of the magnitude of events about to be entered into so lightly. Even the Southern leaders did not realize that there could be any obstacle to “peaceable secession.” Many at the North were willing to “let the wayward sisters depart in peace.” Only a few on either side expected that blood would be shed. When, in the first Confederate Congress at Montgomery, one prudent debater exclaimed, “What if we really have a war?” the general response was, “There will be no war.” “But,” he persisted, “if there is a war, what are our resources?” and when one man in reply expressed his conviction that if the worst came, the South could put fifty thousand men into the field, he was looked upon as an enthusiast. The expectation of “peaceable secession” was the delusion that precipitated matters in the South; and it was on this expectation, when the crisis came, that South Carolina seceded. Her first step was to organize troops and assert the sovereignty in which she believed, by the occupation of her territory.

  After the evacuation of Fort Moultrie, although Major Anderson was not permitted by the South Carolina authorities to receive any large supply of provisions, yet he received a daily mail, and fresh beef and vegetables from the city of Charleston, and was unmolested at Fort Sumter. He continued industriously to strengthen the fort. The military authorities of South Carolina, and afterward of the Confederate States, took possession of Fort Moultrie, Castle Pinckney, the arsenal, and other United States property in the vicinity. They also remounted the guns at Fort Moultrie, and constructed batteries on Sullivan’s, Morris, and James islands, and at other places, looking to the reduction of Fort Sumter if it should become necessary; meantime leaving no stone unturned to secure from the authorities at Washington a quiet evacuation of the fort. Several arrangements to accomplish this purpose were almost reached, but failed. Two attempts were made to reënforce and supply the garrison: one by the steamer Star of the West, which tried to reach the fort, January 9th, 1861, and was driven back by a battery on Morris Island, manned by South Carolina troops; the other just before the bombardment of Sumter, April 12th. The feeling of the Confederate authorities was that a peaceful issue would finally be arrived at; but they had a fixed determination to use force, if necessary, to occupy the fort. They did not desire or intend to take the initiative, if it could be avoided. So soon, however, as it was clearly understood that the authorities at Washington had abandoned peaceful views, and would assert the power of the United States to supply Fort Sumter, General Beauregard, the commander of the Confederate forces at Charleston, in obedience to the command of his Government at Montgomery, proceeded to reduce the fort. His arrangements were about complete, and on April 11th he demanded of Major Anderson the evacuation of Fort Sumter. He offered to transport Major Anderson and his command to any port in the United States; and to allow him to move out of the fort with company arms and property, and all private property, and to salute his flag in lowering it. This demand was delivered to Major Anderson at 3:45 P.M., by two aides of General Beauregard, James Chesnut, Jr., and myself. At 4:30 P.M. he handed us his reply, refusing to accede to the demand; but added, “Gentlemen, if you do not batter the fort to pieces about us, we shall be starved out in a few days.”

  BURSTING OF THE SIGNAL-SHELL FROM FORT JOHNSON OVER FORT SUMTER.

  The reply of Major Anderson was put in General Beauregard’s hands at 5:15 P.M., and he was also told of this informal remark. Anderson’s reply and remark were communicated to the Confederate authorities at Montgomery. The Secretary of War, L. P. Walker, replied to Beauregard as follows:

  “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 meantime he will not use his guns against us, unless ours should be employed against Fort Sumter, you are authorized thus to avoid the effusion of blood. If this, or its equivalent, be refused, reduce the fort as your judgment decides to be most practicable.”

  FRANCIS W. PICKENS, GOVERNOR OF SOUTH CAROLINA, 1861. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.

  The same aides bore a second communication to Major Anderson, based on the above instructions, which was placed in his hands at 12:45 A.M., April 12th. His reply indicated that he would evacuate the fort on the 15th, provided he did not in the meantime receive contradictory instructions from his Government, or additional supplies, but he declined to agree not to open his guns upon the Confederate troops, in the event of any hostile demonstration on their part against his flag. Major Anderson made every possible effort to retain the aides till daylight, making one excuse and then another for not replying. Finally, at 3:15 A.M., he delivered his reply. In accordance with their instructions, the aides read it and, finding it unsatisfactory, gave Major Anderson this notification:

  “FORT SUMTER, S.C., April 12, 1861, 3:20 A.M.—SIR: 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. We have the honor to be very respectfully, Your obedient servants, JAMES CHESNUT, JR., Aide-de-camp. STEPHEN D. LEE, Captain C.S. Army, Aide-de-camp.”

  The above note was written in one of the casemates of the fort, and in the presence of Major Anderson and several of his officers. On receiving it, he was much affected. He seemed to realize the full import of the consequences, and the great responsibility of his position. Escorting us to the boat at the wharf, he cordially pressed our hands in farewell, remarking, “If we never meet in this world again, God grant that we may meet in the next.”

  The boat containing the two aides and also Roger A. Pryor, of Virginia, and A. R. Chisolm, of South Carolina, who were also members of General Beauregard’s staff, went immediately to Fort Johnson on James Island, and the order to fire the signal gun was given to Captain George S. James, commanding the battery at that point. It was then 4 A.M. Captain James at once aroused his command, and arranged to carry out the order. He was a great admirer of Roger A. Pryor, and said to him, “You are the only man to whom I would give up the honor of firing the first gun of the war”; and he offered to allow him to fire it. Pryor, on receiving the offer, was very much agitated. With a husky voice he said, “I could not fire the first gun of the war.” His manner was almost similar to that of Major Anderson as we left him a few moments before on the wharf at Fort Sumter. Captain James would allow no one else but himself to fire the gun.1

  FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN IN 1863.

  The boat with the aides of General Beauregard left Fort Johnson bef
ore arrangements were complete for the firing of the gun, and laid on its oars, about one-third the distance between the fort and Sumter, there to witness the firing of “the first gun of the war” between the States. It was fired from a ten-inch mortar at 4:30 A.M., April 12th, 1861. Captain James was a skillful officer, and the firing of the shell was a success. It burst immediately over the fort, apparently about one hundred feet above. The firing of the mortar woke the echoes from every nook and corner of the harbor, and in this the dead hour of night, before dawn, that shot was a sound of alarm that brought every soldier in the harbor to his feet, and every man, woman, and child in the city of Charleston from their beds. A thrill went through the whole city. It was felt that the Rubicon was passed. No one thought of going home; unused as their ears were to the appalling sounds, or the vivid flashes from the batteries, they stood for hours fascinated with horror. After the second shell the different batteries opened their fire on Fort Sumter, and by 4:45 A.M. the firing was general and regular. It was a hazy, foggy morning. About daylight, the boat with the aides reached Charleston, and they reported to General Beauregard.