John G. Nicolay, The Outbreak of Rebellion

The 26th of December was a busy day for the commandant. There were vessels to be hired, and an excuse invented to send away the families, the baggage, the unnumbered im-pedimenta of the garrison. For this, one or two chosen staffofficers must be let into the secret. Finally, boats must be provided and concealed on the beach, in which to cross the men. Anderson's personal care was extended to every detail, and every item of preparation moved like clock-work. The families and baggage were got off in the afternoon. A sunset parade of the men was ordered, ostensibly to be on the alert against assault, a species of exercise with which the garrison had become somewhat sorely familiar. The supper stood smoking on the officers' mess-table, when Captain Doubleday, second in command, was hastily called to Major Anderson, who now for the first time told him that he must have his company under arms and ready to march to the beach in twenty minutes. Everything proceeded as had been arranged, without delay and without accident; even the rebel guard-boats, which had recently been set to patrolling the bay to render such a movement impossible, failed to make any discovery. By nine o'clock that night the transfer was an assured success; the officers sat down to eat the supper in Sumter which had been cooked for them in Moultrie. A small detail of men and an officer were left behind to spike guns, burn carriages, cut down the flag-staff, and to complete during the night the removal of needed supplies; they finished their work and joined their comrades in Sumter a little after sunrise next morning.

This movement filled the Union sentiment of the country with the liveliest exultation. It was a spontaneous, uncalculating act of patriotism which will enshrine the name of Anderson in grateful recollection so long as American history shall be read. Advance news of the event was sent from