Antebellum BK 1 (65 page)

“
Court-martialed? That’s ridiculous. I just said that I would consider it your duty. Why would I charge you for doing it?”

“
My fear would not be of you, sir. But I have little faith in the top of the chain of command right now. President Buchanan is clearly supporting the Southern cause.”

“
Well, I’d protect you.” Anderson sounded less confident than he had a moment ago. “I won’t ever let the men of my command be martyrs to any political cause, North or South.”

“
Perhaps defending this fort is the same as martyring oneself for a political cause, sir,” Quincy suggested.

Anderson looked at the election results telegram he’d been holding. “Did you know that during the Black Hawk War, when I was a colonel in the Illinois Volunteers, I mustered Captain Abraham Lincoln in and out of the service twice?”

“
No, sir. But I read your book and I know something of your service record.”

“
Then perhaps you know that I served as Adjutant General on General Winfield Scott’s staff.”

“
Yes, sir. But usurping the chain of command by appealing directly to President-elect Lincoln or to General-in-Chief Scott would be the end of your career.”

“
Maybe it’s time for that. Maybe this is the moment.”

“
If you’ll forgive me for saying so, sir, I think the country needs men like you now more than ever.”

“
Like me? What makes me so special?”

“
You’ve been quite outspoken in your support of slavery, yet you remain loyal to the Union. That’s very special.”

“
Or very stupid,” Anderson said. “Have you any suggestions that won’t sacrifice my career, Van Buskirk?”

“
Yes, sir. As you implied a moment ago, my mother is politically connected. If you would permit me to write to her concerning this matter, she may be able to help.”

“
What can it hurt?” Anderson said. “We may not have much time.”

“
I can send it by special messenger,” Quincy said. “She’ll have it in a few days.”

November 18, 1860

Springfield, Illinois

A
braham Lincoln stopped in the doorway of the small office. “Bad news, Anna?”

She looked up from the Special Delivery letter that had just been handed to her by the messenger. “My son Quincy is stationed at Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina. He and his commanding officer think that South Carolina will secede from the Union at any moment and that their fort will come under attack.” She glance at the letter again and looked up at Lincoln. “They say that the fort is indefensible and they want to evacuate to Fort Sumter. Their concern is that the annihilation of Fort Moultrie might serve the agenda of Washington warmongers and if so, going through channels to ask permission to occupy Fort Sumter could be a very bad idea.”

“
Your son or his commanding officer is politically astute. Going through channels would be a very bad idea. Who’s your son’s commanding officer?”

“
Major Robert Anderson.”

Lincoln grinned. “I know him. A fine man. A colonel of the Illinois Volunteers during the Black Hawk War. He was a friend of your father’s too.”

“
Really?”

Lincoln nodded and came into the room. “Want my advice?”

“
Yes, please.”

“
Tell them that’s it is often easier to get forgiveness than permission.”

Anna thought a moment, then smiled. “I’ll have to write that one down in my Lincoln quotation book.”

“
You better not since I stole it from a little-known English poet named William Blake,” Lincoln replied.

Anna’s smile broadened. “
When I from black and he from white cloud free, And round the tent of God like lambs we joy: I’ll shade him from the heat ‘till he can bear, to lean in joy upon our father’s knee. And then I’ll stand and stroke his silver hair, And be like him and he will then love me
.”

“
You’ve read Blake,” Lincoln said in delight.

Anna laughed. “I read everything, Mr. Lincoln. That is, Mr. President-elect.”

He grinned. “You get that message off to Major Anderson quick. South Carolina’s teetering on the edge. He and your boy may not have much time.”

November 23, 1860

Fort Moultrie, South Carolina

Q
uincy Van Buskirk put a Special Delivery letter on Major Anderson’s desk.

Anderson looked at the return address, then at Quincy. “The office of Abraham Lincoln?”

“
My mother is with him in Illinois. It’s rumored that she may have a prominent position on his staff.”

“
Never happen.” Anderson removed the letter from the envelope and unfolded it. “The country’s not ready for women in power positions. Especially your mother, whose reputation is less than stellar.”

Quincy decided not to comment.

Anderson looked up from the letter. “You’ve nothing to say?”

“
No, sir.”

“
I just insulted your mother.”

“
I noticed, sir.”

“
And you’re going to do nothing about it?”

“
What would you suggest that I do, sir?”

Anderson shrugged. “I was led to believe that you had an uncontrollable temper.”

“
Someone has led you astray, sir.”

“
Huh.” Anderson looked down at the telegram. “Then please accept my apology for my callous remark.”

“
I accept it, sir.”

He looked up again. “Have you read this?”

“
Yes, sir.”

Anderson shook his head. “It’s often easier to get forgiveness than permission. Do you understand it?”

“
Yes, sir. But after giving the matter some thought, I don’t think either permission or forgiveness will be necessary.”

“
Why not?”

“
Well, sir, I think that in the event of attack by secessionists, even an unsuccessful but stalwart defense of Fort Sumter would make the commander an overnight hero with the public in the North.” Quincy waited for Anderson to absorb that. “Punishing a hero in time of war is not politically sound, sir.”

“
All that and Lincoln’s encouragement aside, we’re still right back where we started from.” Anderson put the letter down. “We’ve still got not so much as a single word from Washington about Sumter. Technically it’s under the command of the Corps of Engineers.”

“
Everyone knows that the Corps of Engineers are not really fighting troops, sir. You’re the commander of the garrison, so logically, it must be you who holds military command. You’ll just be moving your troops from one post within your command to another.”

“
I’ll be sure to tell my defense lawyer to use that line during my court martial.” Anderson thought another moment, then sighed. “All right. If we do this, when do we do it?”

“
We have time to plan, sir. If secession’s decided by the South Carolina legislature, the first public reaction will be celebration. After that, there will be doubts. If other states join, that will be the time to act.”

Anderson nodded. “If there’s a precipitous secession, in all likelihood we’ll receive a demand to surrender or to abandon the fort from the State government.”

“
I hadn’t thought of that,” Quincy said. “If that were to happen we would have perfect cover to occupy Fort Sumter.”

“
We would still have to move surreptitiously.”

“
Yes, sir. But our preparations for leaving here wouldn’t arouse suspicion if we said we were complying with the State’s orders.”

“
Of course it’s possible that there will be no secessions.”

“
Possible, sir. But very unlikely. There’s a mob mentality in Charleston. I think it will be only a matter of days before there’s a formal declaration.”

“
Did you know that I served here once before?” Anderson asked after a short silence.

“
Yes, sir, I did know that. I also know that your father served here during the Revolution when it was called Fort Sullivan.” He paused. “Abandoning this fort is the right thing to do, painful though it may be.”

“
I know. But it feels cowardly. Like betraying an old friend.”

December 12, 1860

Fort Moultrie, South Carolina

M
ajor Anderson waved toward the chair across from his desk. “Sit down, Captain Van Buskirk, and listen to this.”

Quincy took the seat and waited.

“
Let’s see.” He scanned a message form. “Here’s the important part: ‘... 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 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.’” He looked up expectantly.

“
Who signed that, sir?”

“
Major Don Carlos Buell, Assistant Adjutant General of the Army, approved by Secretary of War John B. Floyd.”

“
Then we have permission and won’t need to seek forgiveness.”

“
Yes. This gives us complete military and political cover to do as we see fit. I’m surprised that President Buchanan permitted it.”

“
I doubt that he’s even aware of it, sir, or Secretary Floyd, for that matter. Don Carlos Buell is an old friend of our family. I’ll wager that he has methods for getting the Secretary’s signature without the Secretary’s knowledge.”

“
No bet,” Anderson said. “All the more reason to keep our plans secret.”

“
I agree, sir.”

“
I’ve also revised my opinion of your mother. Lincoln would be a fool not to keep her very close. She gets things done.”

December 26, 1860