Jefferson Davis.
The Confederate President was intrusted with very large powers,
including supreme control of military affairs. He was authorized to
muster into the service of the central government the regiments which
had been forming in the various States. A call was issued for 100,000
volunteers, and provision made for organizing a regular army. President
Davis appointed a cabinet, with state, treasury, war, navy, and
post-office departments. Robert Toombs, of Georgia, a rabid
secessionist, became Secretary of State.
March 11th the Confederate Congress adopted a permanent constitution. It
reproduced that of the United States, with some important changes. State
sovereignty was recognized in the preamble, which read, "We, the people
of the Confederate States, each State acting in its sovereign and
independent character," etc. Slavery was called by name, and elaborate
safeguards fixed for it in the States and Territories. Slave-trade from
beyond the sea, or with states not in the Confederacy, was, however,
prohibited. Protective tariffs were absolutely forbidden. The president
and vice-president were to serve six years, and the former could not be
re-elected. Some valuable features were inserted. Members of the cabinet
might discuss matters pertaining to their departments in either house of
congress. The president could veto one part of an appropriation bill
without killing the whole, and was required to lay before the senate his
reasons for the removal of any officers from the civil service.
Alexander H. Stephens.
By the last of April all the seceded States had ratified this
constitution. The other slave States were taken in as fast as they
withdrew from the Union. The Southern Confederacy, now fairly launched,
set sail over strange seas upon its short but eventful voyage. At the
start the hopes of those it bore rose high. Few believed that the North
would dare draw sword. Even if it should, the southern heart, proud and
brave, felt sure of victory. King Cotton would win Europe to their side.
Peace would come soon. Visions of a glorious future dazzled the
imaginative mind of the South. A vast slave empire, founded on the
"great physical, philosophical, and moral truth" that slavery is the
"natural condition," of the inferior black race, would spread encircling
arms around the Great Gulf, swallowing up the feeble states of Mexico,
and rise to a wealth and glory unparalleled in the history of nations.
CHAPTER III.
THE NORTH IN THE WINTER OF 1860-61
[1860-1861]
At the beginning of the secession movement the North slumbered and
slept. Even South Carolina's withdrawal from the Union caused little
alarm. "She will be glad enough to come back before long," prophesied
many. As the revolution progressed there was a gradual awakening, but
division of opinion paralyzed action. Ultra Abolitionists, with a few
others, urged that the South be let go in peace. Most Republicans
favored the preservation of the Union by force of arms if necessary; but
nearly all Democrats, with many Republicans, wished for compromise. Of
the latter class a few prayed the prodigals to return on their own
terms. More proposed a rigid enforcement of the fugitive slave law, the
repeal of personal liberty legislation, and acquiescence in the Dred
Scott decision, with all future like decrees of the Supreme Court. This
may be called the northern-democratic position. The most pronounced
Republicans, as Seward and Stanton, would gladly have voted to
re-enforce the Constitution's guarantee to slavery in the slave States.
Throughout the North the feeling was strong against all efforts at
coercion. Most democratic papers and many republican ones insisted
loudly that use of arms was not to be mentioned, and that the South must
be conciliated. A democratic convention met at Albany in January, to
protest against forcible measures. The sentiment that if force were to
be used it should be "inaugurated at home," here evoked hearty response.
There were signs of even a deeper disaffection. An ex-governor of New
Jersey declared that his State would join the Confederacy. Mayor Wood,
of New York, proposed that if the Union were broken up, his city should
announce herself an independent republic.
At Washington matters were still worse. President Buchanan, loyal but
weak, feared to lift a finger. In his December message to Congress, he
insisted that a State had no right to secede, but that the United States
had no power to coerce a State which should secede. A majority of his
cabinet were southern men, three of them zealous secessionists. His most
intimate friends in Congress were southerners. These surrounded the
vacillating Chief Magistrate, and paralyzed what little energy was in
him, meanwhile taking advantage of his inaction to launch the
Confederacy. Now and then, spurred on by loyal old General Scott and by
the Union members of his cabinet, the President tried to break away from
the toils which the conspirators had spun around him. The Star of the
West was secretly sent with supplies and recruits to re-enforce Fort
Sumter. But Secretary Thompson warned South Carolina, and when the
vessel arrived off Charleston, January 9th, hostile batteries fired upon
her and forced her out to sea again. Another plan to relieve the fort
was half formed, but came to nothing. Buchanan's term was on the point
of expiring, and he sat supinely looking on while the disruption of the
Union proceeded apace.
The northern side in Congress showed little wisdom or spirit. Most
northern congressmen truckled to the South or wasted their energies in
fruitless attempts at compromise. Both houses, each by more than a
two-thirds majority, recommended a constitutional amendment depriving
Congress forever of the power to touch slavery in any State without the
consent of all the States. In December the venerable Crittenden, of
Kentucky, laid before the Senate his famous Suggestions for Compromise.
These, besides embodying the above amendment, restored the Missouri
Compromise, let each new State decide for itself whether it would be
slave or free, and forbade Congress to abolish slavery in the District
of Columbia or interfere with the inter-state transportation of slaves.
The United States was to pay for all fugitives whose capture should be
successfully prevented, and slaves as slaves could be carried through
free States. This measure, before Congress all winter, was finally lost
only for lack of southern votes.
A peace congress, called by Virginia, met at Washington in February.
Most of the northern States were represented and all the southern which
had not seceded. It sat for three weeks, and adopted resolutions
identical in substance with the Crittenden Compromise. These dangerously
large offers of concession, mainly well meant, happily proved useless.
The South had gone too far. She did not want compromise, but was bent
upon setting up a slave empire.
Mr. Lincoln arrived safely in Washington on February 23d, having eluded
a rumored plot to assassinate him in Baltimore. He accomplished this by
assuming a slight disguise and taking an earlier train than the one in
which he had been announced to go. He was duly inaugurated on March 4th.
In his inaugural he disclaimed all purpose to interfere with slavery in
the slave States, yet denied the right of secession, and proposed to
regain and hold the property and places belonging to the United States
in all parts thereof. There would be no bloodshed, he said, unless it
were forced upon the Government. "In your hands, my dissatisfied
fellow-countrymen," so ran his memorable words, "in your hands, not in
mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. You can have no conflict
without being yourselves the aggressors. We are not enemies, but
friends." This message, held out as an olive branch, the South denounced
as a menace. Some northern papers condemned it as the "knell and requiem
of the Union." But the general feeling it evoked at the North was one of
rejoicing. People believed that a hand both moderate and firm had at
length seized the helm.
The new President stood faced by an herculean task. Congress was not yet
fully purged of traitors, while Washington still swarmed with their
friends and agents. Floyd's treachery had tied Lincoln's hands. All the
best munitions of war had been sent south. Of the rifled cannon
belonging to the United States not one was left. Only a handful of
regular troops were within call, and the resignations of their officers
came in daily. The plight of the navy and treasury was no better.
Amazing coolness and the absurd prejudice against coercing States
largely possessed even the loyal masses. The attack on Sumter was thus a
god-send.
April 8th, Governor Pickens received notice from President Lincoln that
an attempt would be made to provision that fort. Thereupon General
Beauregard, who had left the United States army to take charge of the
fortifications at Charleston, was ordered by President Davis to demand
its evacuation. Major Anderson replied that they should be starved out
by the 15th, and would leave the fort then unless his Government sent
supplies. This answer was held unsatisfactory, and at 3.20 on the
morning of April 12th Beauregard notified Anderson that his batteries
would open fire in one hour.
Fort Sumter stood on an artificial island at the entrance of the harbor.
It was pentagonal in shape, the walls of brick, eight feet thick and
forty feet high. The parapet was pierced for 140 guns, but only 48 were
in condition for use. The garrison, including some 40 workmen and a
band, numbered 128. Surrounding the fort on all sides except toward the
sea, and distant from 1,300 to 2,500 yards, 19 Confederate batteries
were in position, mounting 47 cannon and mortars, and manned by 3,000 or
4,000 volunteers. These works were provided with bomb-proofs made of
railroad iron or of palmetto logs and sand.
The wharves, roofs, and steeples of Charleston were black with expectant
crowds, straining their eyes down the harbor where the silent castle
loomed up through the dim morning light. Boom! From a mortar battery to
the south a bombshell rises high into the air, describes its graceful
trajectory and falls within Sumter's enclosure. It is the signal gun.
One battery after another responds, until in less than an hour the
stronghold is girt by an almost continuous circle of flashing artillery.
Shells scream through the air and explode above the doomed work, and
great cannon-balls bury themselves in the brick walls. Still Sumter
speaks not. Anderson is waiting for daylight. About six o'clock he
breakfasts his garrison on pork and water, the only provisions left. An
hour later the embrasures are opened, the black guns run out, and Sumter
hurls back her answer to the voice of rebellion. The bombs making it
unsafe to use the barbette cannons of the open rampart, Anderson was
confined to his twenty-one casemate pieces, mostly of light calibre. The
fire was kept up briskly all the morning. Sumter stood it well, but did
little damage to the opposing batteries. At sunset the guns of both
sides became silent, but the mortars maintained a slow fire through the
night.
Early next morning the cannonade opened afresh, and in the course of the
forenoon hot shot set fire to Sumter's wooden barracks. The flames soon
got beyond control; the powder magazine had to be closed; and the heat
and smoke became so stifling that the garrison was forced, in order to
avoid suffocation, to lie face downward upon the floor, each man with a
wet cloth at his mouth. Powder was at last exhausted. About one o'clock
the flag was shot away. It was immediately raised again upon a low
jury-mast, but could not be seen for the smoke, and Beauregard sent to
ask if Anderson had surrendered. The latter offered to evacuate upon the
terms named before the bombardment, to which Beauregard agreed, and all
firing ceased. The next day at noon, after a salute of fifty guns to
their flag, Major Anderson and his men evacuated the scene of their
heroism, and soon after took passage for New York.
The disunion leaders had rightly calculated that an open blow would
bring the border slave States into the Confederacy; but they had not
anticipated the effect of such a deed beyond Mason and Dixon's line.
When it was known that the old flag had been fired upon, a thrill of
passionate rage electrified the North from Maine to Oregon. Then was
witnessed an uprising unparalleled in our history if not in that of
mankind. From every city, town, and hamlet, loud and earnest came the
call, "The Union must be preserved! Away with compromise! Away with
further attempts to conciliate traitors! To arms!" Slavery might do all
else, so little did most northerners yet feel its evil, but it could not
rend the Union. Pulpit, platform, and press echoed with patriotic cries.
Everywhere were Union meetings, speeches, and parades. Union badges
decked everyone's clothing, and the Stars and Stripes were kept unfurled
as only on national holidays before. In New York City a mass-meeting of
two hundred thousand declared for war. The New York Herald changed its
sneer to a war-blast. Party lines were thrown down. Democrats like
Butler, Cass, and Dickinson were in the Union van. Senator Douglas,
lately Lincoln's antagonist, and at first strongly opposed to coercion,
went through the West arousing the people by his patriotic eloquence.
"There can be no neutrals now," were his words, "only patriots and
traitors."
Route of the Sixth Massachusetts Troops through Baltimore.]
April 15th, President Lincoln issued a call for seventy-five thousand
volunteers, and each free State responded with twice its quota.
Enlisting offices were opened in every town and hamlet, and the roll of
the drum and the tramp of armed men with faces set southward were heard
all over the North. First to march was the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment.
Forming on Boston Common it took cars for Washington on April 17th,
reaching Baltimore on the morning of the 19th.
Maryland was trembling in the balance between Union and disunion. A
determined disunionist minority was working with might and main to drag
the State into secession. Baltimore was white-hot with southern zeal,
determined that the Bay State troops should never reach Washington
through that metropolis. Eight of the cars containing the soldiers were
drawn safely across the city. The next was assailed by a hooting mob,
and the windows smashed in by bricks and paving stones. Some of the
soldiers were wounded by pistol shots, and a scattering fire was
returned. Sand, stones, anchors, and other obstructions were heaped upon
the track. The remaining four companies therefore left the cars and
started to march. They soon met the mob, flying a secession flag. A
melee ensued. The troops moved double-quick toward the Washington depot,
surrounded by a seething mass of infuriated secessionists filling the
air with their brick-bats and stones, while bullets whizzed from
sidewalks and windows. The troops returned the fire, and several in the
crowd fell. The chief of police with fifty officers appeared on the
scene, who, by presenting cocked revolvers, held the rioters in check
for a while, till the distressed troops could join their comrades.
Baltimore was in the hands of this secessionist band for the rest of the
day. The bridges north of that city were also burned, so that no more
troops could reach Washington by this route.
Scene of the First Bloodshed, at Baltimore.
Meanwhile the capital city was in great peril, devotees of the South
being each moment expected to make an attack upon it. Only fifteen
companies of local militia and six of regulars were present at
inauguration time, stationed by General Scott at critical points in the
city. Pickets were posted continually on roads and bridges outside. Four
hundred Pennsylvania troops happily arrived on April 18th, and the next
day came the Sixth Massachusetts. But the city was not yet secure. There
were reports that large bodies of men were gathering in Maryland and
Virginia for a descent upon it. Washington was put in a state of siege,
the public buildings barricaded and provided with sentinels. The
Government seized the Potomac steamers and also all the flour within
reach. Business ceased. Alarmed by rumors of a military impressment,
hundreds of government clerks, besides officers in the army and navy,
came out in their true colors and fled south. Enemies at Baltimore had
cut off telegraphic communication between Washington and the North.
Reports came that re-enforcements were on the way, but day followed day
without witnessing their arrival. The President and all Unionists were
in an agony of suspense.
The Routes of Approach to Washington.
Russell & Struthers, Eng's, N. York.
On April 22d the Eighth Massachusetts, under General B. F. Butler, and
the famous Seventh Regiment from New York City, met at Annapolis. Here
they were delayed several days. Governor Hicks had warned them not to
land on Maryland soil. The railroad to Washington had been torn up for
many miles and the engines damaged. Among his troops Butler found the
very machinists who had made the engines. Repairs were promptly
effected, the track re-laid, and about noon of the 25th the gallant New
Yorkers landed in Washington amid the joyful shouts of the loyal
populace. Up Pennsylvania Avenue swept the solid ranks, bands playing
and colors flying, to gladden the heart of the careworn President as he
welcomed them at the White House. A sudden change came over the city.
Secessionists slunk away, the faces of the loyal beamed with joy. The
national capital was safe.