Fort Sumter is about to be evacuated. On March 31, 1861, the New York Herald reports that President Lincoln's cabinet has decided to abandon the Charleston fortress—the very symbol of Federal authority in the seceded South. The preliminary orders are underway, and Charleston authorities are anxiously awaiting word on when Colonel Laumson will return to finalize the withdrawal. In a separate dispatch, the paper reveals that rumors of reinforcing Fort Pickens in Florida were mere political theater, designed to help Republicans in Connecticut and Rhode Island elections. The administration, it appears, is quietly surrendering its military positions across the South. Meanwhile, in a fiery scene at the White House, Lincoln physically threw a Californian's protest into the fireplace, declaring it "most disrespectful," while defending his longtime friend Colonel Edward Baker against patronage attacks. The incident, observers note, marks the first sign of the "Jacksonian" toughness people expected from "Old Abe."

This paper arrives at the precipice of civil war. Lincoln took office just six weeks earlier, inheriting a fractured nation. Fort Sumter—still held by Federal troops but surrounded by Confederate forces in hostile Charleston Harbor—had become the flashpoint everyone watched. By evacuating it, Lincoln was making an agonizing calculation: preserve the Union by avoiding provocation, or reinforce Federal positions and risk open conflict. Eleven days after this edition, Confederate forces would bombard Fort Sumter, igniting the war. These March dispatches capture the Lincoln administration frozen in indecision, trying diplomacy and strategic retreat while the South's commissioners in Washington quietly manipulated events toward the confrontation they wanted.

• The Herald reports that Fort Pickens reinforcement rumors were planted 'for the sole purpose of helping the republican cause in Connecticut and Rhode Island'—revealing that the administration was explicitly using military strategy as electoral propaganda just weeks into Lincoln's presidency.
• A brief note mentions the steamship Powhatan, recently returned from Vera Cruz, has been decommissioned by the Navy Secretary with her crew transferred elsewhere. This seemingly minor detail masks a major scandal: the Powhatan would become central to the Fort Sumter crisis when Lincoln secretly diverted it to Charleston, infuriating his Secretary of State Seward.
• Commodore Armstrong's court martial is 'progressing very slowly,' waiting for a crucial witness at Fort Pickens. The Herald notes the government will prove Armstrong 'failed to co-operate with the army for the protection of the government property'—a cryptic reference to military leadership fractures during the secession crisis.
• Among routine appointments, the paper casually mentions James F. Eustis was named Pension Agent of Pennsylvania and 'gave fifty thousand dollars to faithfully execute the duties'—suggesting that even in March 1861, appointees were posting substantial personal bonds to guarantee honest service.
• Mrs. Judith Gylpen, aged 87, died at the Newport, R.I. Insane Asylum after residing there for 51 years—she had entered at age 36 and never left, a haunting snapshot of 19th-century institutionalization.

• The Herald lavishes nearly 4,000 words on Easter traditions—from medieval resurrection plays to Irish kissing customs to Spanish mock kings—on a day when the nation teeters toward war. This wasn't filler; Easter 1861 fell on April 7, just four days after this edition, and Americans were desperate for normalcy and spiritual reflection before the storm.
• Senator Edward Baker of Oregon, whom Lincoln defended so fiercely at the White House, would become one of Lincoln's closest wartime confidants. He'd serve as both senator and brigadier general, and would be killed leading troops at the Battle of Ball's Bluff in October 1861—one of the war's earliest prominent casualties.
• The paper mentions Colonel Edward Baker had known Lincoln for 'twenty five years,' tracing their friendship to Lincoln's time in Illinois in the 1830s. This was the backbone of Lincoln's political world: not ideological allies, but men bound by frontier-era personal connections now tested by the gravest constitutional crisis.
• The Herald's Washington correspondent reveals that Confederate commissioners achieved evacuation of Fort Pickens through what he calls a 'masterful inactivity'—diplomatic stalling that gave Jefferson Davis time to concentrate overwhelming force nearby. This suggests the South's diplomats understood they didn't need to negotiate; they just needed to wait while the North hesitated.
• The court-martial of Commodore Armstrong for failing to cooperate with the Army would drag on through the spring; Armstrong's insubordination reflected the military establishment's deep fractures over secession, with officers torn between oath to the Union and loyalty to their home states.