On Saturday, the 8th of December, several of the South
Carolina delegation, including ourselves, waited upon the President. At this
time, there was a growing belief that reinforcements were on the eve of being
sent to the forts in Charleston harbor. It was known that the subject was
frequently and earnestly discussed in the Cabinet. It was rumored that General
Cass and Mr. Holt were urgent that reinforcements should be sent. Upon our
being announced, the President, who was then in Cabinet Council, came out to us
in the ante-room. We at once entered into a conversation upon the topic, which
was so closely occupying his thoughts as well as ours. The President seemed
much disturbed and moved. He told us that he had had a painful interview with
the wife of Major Anderson, who had come on from New York to see him. She had
manifested great anxiety and distress at the situation of her husband, whom she
seemed to consider in momentary danger of an attack from an excited and lawless
mob. The President professed to feel a deep responsibility resting upon him to
protect the lives of Major Anderson and his command. We told him that the news
that reinforcements were on their way to Charleston, would be the surest means
of provoking what Mrs. Anderson apprehended, and what he so much deprecated. We
said, further, that we did not believe that Major Anderson was in any danger of
such an attack; that the general sentiment of the State was against any such
proceeding. That, prior to the action of the State Convention, then only ten
days off, we felt satisfied that there would be no attempt to molest the forts
in any way. That, after the Convention met, — while we could not possibly
undertake to say what that body would see fit to do, — we yet hoped and
believed that nothing would be done until we had first endeavored, by duly
accredited Commissioners, to negotiate for a peaceful settlement of all
matters, including the delivery of the forts, between South Carolina and the
Federal Government. At the same time, we again reiterated our solemn belief
that any change in the then existing condition of things in Charleston harbor,
would, in the excited state of feeling at home, inevitably precipitate a collision.
The impression made upon us was, that the President was wavering, and had not
decided what course he would pursue. He said he was glad to have had this
conversation with us, but would prefer that we should give him a written
memorandum of the substance of what we had said. This we did on Monday, the
10th. It was in these words:
Commissioners
of the State of South Carolina to James Buchanan, December 9, 1860
The President did not like the word “provided,” because it
looked as if we were binding him while avowing that we had no authority to
commit the Convention. We told him that we did not so understand it. We were
expressing our convictions and belief, predicated upon the maintenance of a
certain condition of things, which maintenance was absolutely, and entirely in
his power. If he maintained such condition, then we believed that collision
would be avoided until the attempt at a peaceable negotiation had failed. If he
did not, then we solemnly assured him that we believed collision must
inevitably, and at once, be precipitated. He seemed satisfied, and said it was
not his intention to send reinforcements, or make any change. We explained to him
what we meant by the words '”relative military status,” as applied to the
forts; mentioned the difference between Major Anderson's occupying his then
position at Fort Moultrie, and throwing himself into Fort Sumter. We stated
that the latter step would be equivalent to reinforcing the garrison, and would
just as certainly as the sending of fresh troops, lead to the result which we
both desired to avoid. When we rose to go, the President said in substance, “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.” One of the delegation, just
before leaving the room, remarked, “Mr. President, you have determined to let
things remain as they are, and not to send reinforcements; but, suppose that
you were hereafter to change jour policy for any reason, what then? That would
put us, who are willing to use our personal influence to prevent any attack
upon the forts before Commissioners are sent on to Washington, in rather an
embarrassing position.” “Then,” said the President, “I would first return you
this paper.” We do not pretend to give the exact words on either side, but we
are sure we give the sense of both.
The above is a full and exact account of what passed between
the President and the delegation. The President, in his letter to our
Commissioners, tries to give the impression that our “understanding” or “agreement”
was not a “pledge.” We confess, we are not sufficiently versed in the wiles of
diplomacy to feel the force of this “distinction without a difference.” Nor can
we understand how, in “a matter of honor among gentlemen,” in which “no paper
or writing is necessary,” the very party who was willing to put it on that high
footing can honorably descend to mere verbal criticism, to purge himself of
what all gentlemen and men of honour must consider a breach of faith. The very
fact that we (the representatives from South Carolina) were not authorized to commit
or “pledge” the State, were not treating with the President as accredited
ministers with full powers, but as gentlemen assuming, to a certain extent, the
delicate task of' undertaking to foreshadow the course and policy of the State,
should have made the President the more ready to strengthen our hands to bring
about and carry out that course and policy which he professed to have as much
at heart as we had. While we were not authorized to say that the Convention
would not order the occupation of the forts immediately after secession, and
prior to the sending on of Commissioners, the President, as Commander-in-chief
of the Army and Navy of the United States, could most positively say, that so
long as South Carolina abstained from attacking and seizing the forts, he would
not send reinforcements to them, or allow their relative military status to
be changed. We were acting in the capacity of gentlemen holding certain
prominent positions, and anxious to exert such influence as we might possess,
to effect a peaceful solution of pending political difficulties, and prevent,
if possible, the horrors of war. The President was acting in a double capacity;
not only as a gentleman, whose influence in carrying out his share of the
understanding, or agreement, was potential, but as the head of the army, and,
therefore, having the absolute control of the whole matter of reinforcing or
transferring the garrison at Charleston. But we have dwelt long enough upon
this point. Suffice it to say, that considering the President as bound in
honor, if not by treaty stipulation, not to make any change in the forts, or to
send reinforcements to them, unless they were attacked, we of the delegation
who were elected to the Convention, felt equally bound in honor to do
everything on our part to prevent any premature collision. This Convention can
bear us witness as to whether or not we endeavored honorably to carry out our
share of the agreement.
The published debates at the very commencement of the
session, contain the evidence of our good faith. We trusted the President. We
believed his wishes concurred with his policy, and that both were directed to
avoiding any inauguration of hostilities. We were confirmed in our confidence,
and reassured in our belief by a significant event which took place subsequent
to our interview. He allowed his premier Cabinet officer, an old and tried
friend to resign, rather than yield to his solicitations for the reinforcement
of the garrison at Charleston. We urged this as a convincing proof of his
firmness and sincerity. But how have we been deceived! The news of Major
Anderson's coup produced a sudden and unexpected change in the
President's policy. While declaring that his withdrawal from Fort Moultrie to
Fort Sumter was “without orders, and contrary to orders,” he yet refused, for
twelve hours, to take any action in the matter. For twelve hours, therefore,
without any excuse, he refused to redeem his plighted word. No subsequent acts
on the part of our State — no after reasons — can wipe away the stain which he
suffered to rest upon his “honor as a gentleman,” while those hours, big with
portentous events, rolled slowly by. His Secretary of War, impatient of a
delay, every moment of which he felt touched his own honor, resigned. He did so
solely on the ground that the faith of the government — solemly pledged — was
broken, if it failed promptly to undo what had been done contrary to its wishes
— against its settled policy — and in violation of its distinct agreement. The
President accepted his resignation without comment. He did not attempt to
disabuse the mind of his Secretary as to what was the true position of the
Government. What a spectacle does the President's vacillating and disingenuous
course present! He allows one Secretary to resign rather than abandon a policy
which he has agreed upon. Scarcely have a few short weeks elapsed, and he
accepts the resignation of another, rather than adhere to that very policy. He
makes an agreement with gentlemen which, while he admits that they have
faithfully kept it on their part, he himself evades and repudiates. And this he
does rather than redress a wrong — correct an error — what he himself considers
an error — committed by a subordinate, without his orders, and contrary to his
wishes! It was at least due to Mr. Floyd, who, as one of his Cabinet, had
officially and personally stood by his administration from its very
commencement — through good report, and through evil report — to have explained
to him that he was, in the President's opinion, laboring under a
misapprehension. At least, to have said to him, “you are mistaken about this
matter — do not leave me on a false issue.” But no; he coldly, ungraciously,
yet promptly, receives the resignation without a syllable of remonstrance, and
thus tacitly, but unequivocally, accepts without shame the issue presented. He
does not deny that the faith of his government is pledged, but he deliberately
refuses to redeem it.
WM. PORCHER MILES.
LAURENCE M. KEITT.
SOURCE: The Correspondence Between the Commissioners
of the State of So. Ca. to the Government at Washington and the President of
the United States, p. 21-6, Published in The Richmond Daily Dispatch, Richmond, Virginia, January 14, 1861, p. 1
