Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War. Volume 1.

[132] places guns were fired in honor of the event; and never did a public servant receive such spontaneous praise from a grateful people, for his deed seemed like a promise of safety to the Republic. Pen and pencil celebrated his praises; and a poet, in a parody of a couple of stanzas of a dear old Scotch song, made “Miss Columbia,” addressing Anderson, thus express the sentiments of the people:--

Bob Anderson, my beau, Bob, when we were first acquent,
You were in Mex-i-co, Bob, because by order sent;
But now you are in Sumter, Bob, because you chose to go,
And blessings on you anyhow, Bob Anderson, my beau.

Bob Anderson, my beau, Bob, I really don't know whether
I ought to like you so, Bob, considering that feather.
I don't like standing armies, Bob, as very well you know,
But I love a man that Dares to Act, Bob Anderson, my beau.

¹

From the hour when Anderson and his little band² entered Sumter, their position was an extremely perilous one. His friends knew this, and were very uneasy. His devoted wife, a daughter of the gallant soldier, General Clinch, of Georgia, with her children and nurse, were in New York City. She knew, better than all others, the perils to which her husband might be exposed from ferocious foes without, and possible traitors within. With an intensity of anxiety not easily imagined, she resolved in her mind a hundred projects for his relief. All were futile. At length, while passing a sleepless night, she thought of a faithful sergeant who had been with her husband in Mexico, and who had married their equally faithful cook. If he could be placed by the side of Major Anderson in Sumter, that officer would have a tried and trusty friend, on whom he could rely in any emergency. Where was he? For seven long years they had not seen his face. Seven years before, they heard that he was in New York. She resolved to seek him. At dawn she sent for a city directory. The Sergeant's name was Peter Hart. She made a memorandum of the residence of every Hart in the city; and, in a carriage, she sought, for a day and a half, for the man she desired to find. Then she obtained a clew. He might be in the Police establishment — there was a man of that name who had been a soldier. She called on the Superintendent of the Police, and was satisfied. She left a request for Peter Hart to call on her.

Mrs. Anderson had resolved to go with Peter to Fort Sumter, if he would accompany her. She was an invalid. Her physician and friend, to whom alone she had intrusted the secret of her resolve, protested vehemently against the project. He believed its execution would imperil her life. She had resolved to go, and would listen to no protests or entreaties. Seeing her determination, he gave her every assistance in his power.

Peter Hart came, bringing with him his wife, the faithful Margaret. They were delighted to see their former mistress and friend. Hart stood erect before her, with his heels together, soldier-like, as if to receive orders.