According to information on the verso of this volume, American Orations is a series of books in four volumes printing important speeches in American history. The first volume includes speeches on colonialism, constitutional government, the rise of democracy, and the rise of nationalism. The second volume (under review here) includes speeches on the question of slavery. Slavery is also the subject of the speeches in the third volume. The fourth volume important subjects of the post-war era. The speeches found in the present volume are by Rufus King, William Pinkney, Wendell Phillips, John Quincy Adams, John C. Calhoun, Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, and Charles Sumner. Together they provide an interesting look into the salient issues leading up to the Civil War and the manner of oratory of the time.
New York Senator Rufus King addressed the Senate in February, 1820 during the debate over the Missouri Compromise. His speech is an impressive brief, outlining the precedents and principles giving Congress the power to regulate and ban slavery in newly admitted states, without extending that power to currently recognized states. His argument rests on the constitutional principle that Congress has '"the power to make all needful regulations" governing any territory of the United States. Furthermore, Congress retains the power to admit new states, without limitation on the terms of admission. Consequently, Congress may prohibit slavery in U.S. territories and admit states on the condition that slavery remains prohibited. At the same time, Congress my choose not to exercise these powers. He also explains that the current states, having established slavery prior to the adoption of the constitution, are free to maintain slavery within their borders as their ratification of the constitution was dependent upon the continuation of slavery within their states. King's speech recounts several instances in which states were admitted to the Union consistent with these principles, importantly, the Northwest Territory that would be composed of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and eastern Minnesota. Among the speeches contained in this volume, King's stands out as well-argued.
In the same week as King's speech, Maryland Senator William Pinkney rose in rebuttal. Pinkney argued that to admit new states on terms different from the original thirteen was to deny the equality of states and create a different form of union. While Pinkney no doubt reasons from a plausible premise of equality among states, the protagonists of freedom can just as plausibly argue that there is no reasons that the terms of formation and expansion of the union might not be different. Taken together, King and Pinkney provide clear examples of the two sides of the debate during the discussion of the Missouri Compromise.
The third speech in the volume is by Wendell Phillips which he gave in Boston in 1837 following the murder of Elijah Lovejoy. Lovejoy printed an abolitionist newspaper in St. Louis until the proponents of slavery destroyed his printing press for a third time. He then set up his newspaper across the Mississippi River in Alton, Illinois, but the mob followed him and murdered him while he attempted to defend his press. I'll confess that coming from St. Louis, I have always held Lovejoy in the highest esteem. There are few white abolitionists prior to the war who remained so determined and risked so much as Lovejoy. Consequently, I was rather disappointed in Phillips's speech. While it did eulogize Lovejoy, its primary point was to defend the freedom of the press -- a good cause, no doubt, but I had hoped for a more forceful call to follow Lovejoy's example and raise the profile of resistance to slavery.
John Quincy Adams's speech, given on the floor of the House in 1837. The occasion of the speech was a bill to authorize money to suppress an Indian revolt in Georgia. Adams pointed out that many of his constituents might not be in favor of such an expenditure and that it was beyond the authority of the federal government to tax them for this purpose. In response, Adams argued that the federal government had authorities in peace and authorities in war. While the authorities in peace are limited, authorities in war know no limits. In modern terminology, Adams was appealing to a "national defense" argument. To make this case, he observed several instances when the federal government intervened on the issue of slavery. This was his real purpose. Early, he had been prohibited from making comments about slavery when a resolution was moved that the federal government had no authority to intervene in the slavery question, due to the "gag rule" previously passed into law. No, in the context of appropriating money to suppress an Indian revolt, he was able to lay out his case for why the federal government had the authority to intervene in the slavery question. The speech provides an interesting glimpse into the subtleties of the parliamentary contest that Congress was engaged in during the 1830s along with the constitutional questions that slavery posed.
John C. Calhoun's speech recorded in this volume was the last and perhaps the most significant that he ever gave. It occurred in 1850 during the debate of the great compromise fashioned by Henry Clay. The bill -- an omnibus bill -- called for admitting California as a free state, forming a territorial government in Utah without mention of slavery, amending the Fugitive Slave Act, the abolishing the slave trade in Washington D.C., and establishing the border between Texas and New Mexico. The bill failed in its omnibus form, but each element was subsequently passed by Congress. Calhoun's speech was noteworthy for its rigorous reasoning in opposition to the compromise. His main objections were leveled against allowing California to be admitted as a free state and not unambiguously asserting a right that slaveholders might bring slavery to the territories and establish slavery under the territorial laws. This became known as "squatter sovereignty." He argued that by denying the authority of Californians to choose their own laws related to slavery and failing to stand up for the "rights" of the slave holding states, the honor and equal standing of those states were diminished. With the advantage of an modern viewpoint, it seems clear that Calhoun must have understood that slavery could not be saved by normal political means and that he understood that the slave states would eventually need to secede in order to preserve their human property. Indeed, his speech directly threatens secession if the federal government does not accommodate slavery throughout the nation. Of all the speeches in this volume, Calhoun's is perhaps the most significant and the most reprehensible.
During that same debate, Daniel Webster made a speech that forever separated him from the opponents of slavery. He had previously been seen as at least a lukewarm ally, but his forceful defense of the Fugitive Slave Act outraged his former fellow travelers. The amended Fugitive Slave Act would strengthen the powers of slave hunters and require state and local officials to assist in the captures. The Fugitive Slave Act was justified by a clause in the Constitution which directs that persons "held to service or labour in one state...escaping into another...shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labour may be due." Webster found this was sufficient to bind state and local authorities to assist in the capture and return of fugitive slaves. He furthermore referenced the Supreme Court's support for this view. At the time, opponents of the Fugitive Slave Act argued that the clause did not specify "slaves," but on persons "held to service or labour." This reading required the authorities to return indentured servants or other persons who were under contract to perform service or labor. Had it been meant to include slaves, the clause would have said as much. Webster's decision to read the critical clause to include slaves was taken as a betrayal by his anti-slavery supporters. Webster might be praised for standing by what he believed was an honest interpretation of the Constitution, but a reasonable case can be made that no law permitting the enslavement of a person can be valid under a constitution putatively dedicate to freedom. Furthermore, the concept of natural (or human) rights was already well-established, making a free state's assessment of the invalidity of slave labor arguably justified. Webster chose not to avail himself of these arguments and must go down in history as a proponent of a reprehensible positive law at the expense of human rights.
The next speech in the volume is by Henry Clay, the author of the Compromise of 1850. Here we get his direct appeal to the Senate to pass his bill. It is a classic appeal to everyone to give a little in order to get a little. He understands that no one, perhaps including himself, will be happy with every element of the bill, but that peace and tranquility in the nation requires that the Congress come to an agreement on the vexing issues of the day and that given the profound disagreement within the country on so many of these issues, there can be no agreement that satisfies everyone. Perhaps the most surprising passages in the speech -- at least for me -- were those in which Clay condemned slavery in no uncertain terms. I had always understood that he his attitude toward slavery was ambiguous. He both attempted to have it outlawed in his home state and owned 60 slaves at one point. It appears he thought it an unfortunate evil that should not be extended beyond its current scope, but that it was also a fact of economic life for the well-to-do Southerner. Perhaps much as a democratic socialist might regard his or her stock portfolio today. It is an interesting lesson in parliamentary strategy to recognize that his compromise was defeated in its omnibus form, but that each element passed Congress. Often omnibus bills are crafted to ensure an unpopular element passes, but in this case the aggregated opposition minorities combined to defeat the omnibus bill. Alone, each minority failed to defeat what they opposed.
The volume includes a second speech by Wendell Phillips. This is perhaps appropriate as he was widely regarded as the most effective abolitionist speaker. It is a masterful summary of the abolitionist movement starting in 1830 with William Garrison's groundbreaking newspaper The Liberator. He provides an account of the contributions of most of the important abolitionists and places their work in the context of the social and political opposition that they faced. He emphasizes that abolitionists have always been a despised minority, but points out how successful they have been in moving public opinion. He shows how many Whigs, Northern Democrats, and members of the Free Soil Party eventually made use of the arguments of the more radical Garrisonians and other abolitionists when it became politically expedient to do so. For Phillips, staking out a principled, though unpopular opinion was a necessity and he relied on its fundamental decency to eventually win popular support. It's hard to say his strategy was mistaken.
His speech was given in 1853, just three months after the death of Daniel Webster and his unwillingness to speak well of the dead with whom he disagreed is a testament to his principled stand for truth. At one point, he denounces Webster's "treachery," underscoring the abolitionists' dissatisfaction with Webster's support for the Compromise of 1850, particularly his defense of the Fugitive Slave Act.
One could get tied in knots attempting to understand the legal and constitutional status of slavery, the slave trade, the power of the federal government to regulate it, control it within the territories, etc. The intractability of these legal and constitutional questions is rooted in the contradictory attitudes of the framers of the constitution and the presidents and legislators who labored under the Constitution; but the question of the fate of slavery was for many people prior to the war so monumental that it transcended the constraints of law and the Constitution and posed a profound moral question. Wendell Phillips's speeches make it perfectly clear that he understood this and his voice, as much as anyone's, moved our country beyond the terrible condition that it had inherited from colonial times.
The final speech in the volume is by Charles Sumner, given in 1853 on the occasion of a debate over the repeal of the Fugitive Slave Act. Sumner was widely recognized as the Senate's most articulate proponent of the abolition of slavery. He is perhaps best known as the victim of a "caning" by Rep. Preston Brooks on the Senate floor. Two days following a speech given by Sumner, Brooks beat Sumner unconscious with a gold tipped cane. His reason for doing so was that Sumner's speech had insulted another Senator Andrew Butler, who was related to Brooks. It is noteworthy that in the run up to the Civil War, it was not uncommon for Congress members to come to debates armed and on at least one occasion, several pistols were drawn on the floor of the House.
In Sumner's speech recorded here, he presented a detailed argument that slavery was not properly considered "national," but instead an institution of the states. Consequently, the federal government had no obligation to require officers of free states to participate in the return of fugitive slaves. His argument was based primarily on references to the sentiments of the nation's founders. He then turned to a critique of the argument that the Fugitive Slave Act was required by the Constitution. here is argument was quite strong. Sumner provided a detailed summary of the controversy at issue during the drafting of the Constitution in order to establish the original intent of the Constitution. He makes a strong case that the clause requiring that "persons held to service or labour...escaping to another state" shall be delivered up to whom their service or labour is due was not intended to include slaves. Sumner mentions that an earlier draft of the clause which specifically mentions fugitive "slaves" was rejected and that in a passage in the Constitution the term "service" was adopted in place of "servitude" in order to specify the work of free labor. It is interesting to read Sumner's speech along with Daniel Webster's speech also in this volume. Here, two Massachusetts senators come to completely different interpretations of the Constitution. Perhaps it is my own desire that the Constitution not endorse slavery, but Sumner's arguments seem obviously stronger.
In all, the speeches recorded in this volume are indeed noteworthy, though not always Earth-shattering. Their seeming moderate nature may be due to the distance we have from the super-charged political environment of the antebellum decades. Nonetheless, one does get a sense that the speakers on both sides understood the gravity of what was at stake. Whether they all truly understood that they were drifting toward what William Seward would call an "irrepressible conflict" isn't so clear.
Showing posts with label American Civil War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Civil War. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Maryland Women in the Civil War: Unionists, Rebels, Slaves, & Spies / Claudia Floyd -- Charleston, S.C.: The History Press, 2013
Most histories of the Civil War have approached the topic either from the perspective of a limited military campaign or battle or from a national military-political perspective. Some, of course, examine specific themes related to the war, e.g., the emancipation of slaves, international relations, or political intrigue. Others focus on the biographies of key historic figures. Many of these approaches overlook how different the war seemed to people in different states. The people of Virginia experienced the war quite differently, of course, from how it was experienced by the people of Wisconsin. Ohio University Press has begun a very interesting series of Civil War histories that recognize the importance of these state differences. Included in their offerings are Ohio's War, Indiana's War, Illinois's War
, Missouri's War (reviewed in this blog), and Kansas's War.
In this vein, The History Press has published Maryland Women in the Civil War by Claudia Floyd. The work treats exactly what you would expect from the title. Examining the role of women in Maryland's war is particularly interesting, in that the Maryland was a slave state that was secured by the Union in the early months of the war. Consequently, a large number of southern sympathizers found themselves going about their normal domestic lives under what they perceived as a hostile occupation and resisting that occupation or supporting the southern cause often involved covert activities and not open, armed Resistance. Both men and women could and were fully engaged in these activities.
By and large, Floyd's book examines the roles of a handful of women who we might assume are representative of larger groups of women. We learn about Anna Ella Carroll, a prolific pro-Union propagandist; Elizabeth Phoebe Key Howard, a member of a prominent Baltimore pro-secession family; Madge Preston, a diarist and southern supporter living outside Baltimore; and perhaps the most famous woman from Maryland during the Civil War era, Harriet Tubman; but there are a host of other women who's lives and views make brief appearances in the work.
Floyd does an admirable job of illustrating how different women reacted differently to the war, not just based on their sympathies for the Union or Confederacy, but due to their station in society and particularly due to the effects that the war had on their families. One gets the sense that more than in many other states, the women of Maryland were driven to engage in politics because of the high stakes that existed for families living in a slave state, that bordered the nation's capital and separated free states from slave states. The controversial suspension of habeas corpus by the Lincoln administration mostly affected men living in Maryland, Maryland's geographic location made it particularly important to the underground railroad, and Baltimore's large free black population complicated race relations in ways that the rest of country did not experience. Again, elements of this sort meant that the war reached into domestic life in a way that was not common in other states.
If there is a weakness in the work, it is that it appears to rely too completely on diaries and letters. While this gives the work an admirable immediacy, it is not clear how much the experiences of the women who are the subjects of the book can be generalized to the rest of the women in Maryland. Many of Floyd's women are socially prominent, making it less clear that working class women experienced the war in the same way. For what it is, though, Maryland Women in the Civil War is an engaging and informative work.
, Missouri's War (reviewed in this blog), and Kansas's War.
In this vein, The History Press has published Maryland Women in the Civil War by Claudia Floyd. The work treats exactly what you would expect from the title. Examining the role of women in Maryland's war is particularly interesting, in that the Maryland was a slave state that was secured by the Union in the early months of the war. Consequently, a large number of southern sympathizers found themselves going about their normal domestic lives under what they perceived as a hostile occupation and resisting that occupation or supporting the southern cause often involved covert activities and not open, armed Resistance. Both men and women could and were fully engaged in these activities.
By and large, Floyd's book examines the roles of a handful of women who we might assume are representative of larger groups of women. We learn about Anna Ella Carroll, a prolific pro-Union propagandist; Elizabeth Phoebe Key Howard, a member of a prominent Baltimore pro-secession family; Madge Preston, a diarist and southern supporter living outside Baltimore; and perhaps the most famous woman from Maryland during the Civil War era, Harriet Tubman; but there are a host of other women who's lives and views make brief appearances in the work.
Floyd does an admirable job of illustrating how different women reacted differently to the war, not just based on their sympathies for the Union or Confederacy, but due to their station in society and particularly due to the effects that the war had on their families. One gets the sense that more than in many other states, the women of Maryland were driven to engage in politics because of the high stakes that existed for families living in a slave state, that bordered the nation's capital and separated free states from slave states. The controversial suspension of habeas corpus by the Lincoln administration mostly affected men living in Maryland, Maryland's geographic location made it particularly important to the underground railroad, and Baltimore's large free black population complicated race relations in ways that the rest of country did not experience. Again, elements of this sort meant that the war reached into domestic life in a way that was not common in other states.
If there is a weakness in the work, it is that it appears to rely too completely on diaries and letters. While this gives the work an admirable immediacy, it is not clear how much the experiences of the women who are the subjects of the book can be generalized to the rest of the women in Maryland. Many of Floyd's women are socially prominent, making it less clear that working class women experienced the war in the same way. For what it is, though, Maryland Women in the Civil War is an engaging and informative work.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
The Failure of Popular Sovereignty: Slavery, Manifest Destiny, and the Radicalization of Southern Policitcs / Christopher Childers -- Lawrence, Kan.: Univeristy Press of Kansas, 2012
It is often said the American Civil War was not fought over the issue of slavery, but over the right of states to secede. The assertion is initially appealing in that significant majorities in the northern states felt no need to go to war over the presence of slavery in the South, but a northern army was quickly mobilized when southern states seceded. This analysis, however, overlooks the decades-long debate over slavery, particularly the debate over its extension into the U.S. territories, which was the core disagreement that finally led to secession. Imagine two farmers who begin arguing about the ownership of a plot of land and find themselves coming to blows when they cannot agree on a subtle point in contract law. We would not say that they were fighting over a legal principle, but that they were fighting over the land. So too was the Civil War a struggle over slavery, not state sovereignty. Christopher Childers's masterly book The Failure of Popular Sovereignty traces the long argument that finally led to the Civil War. In the course of the account, the importance of slavery is revealed by the changing justifications offered by southern slaveholders in particular.
The central concern in both the North and the South was the extension of slavery into the territories. In time, four positions surfaced: (1) the federal government had authority to regulate and even outlaw slavery in the territories, (2) the government of a territory could regulate or outlaw slavery, (3) the citizens of a territory could regulate and even outlaw slavery, but only when applying for statehood, and (4) the federal government had an obligation actively to protect slavery in the territories until the territory became a state. Other positions also surfaced, but they tended to be opportunistic modifications of one of these four.
Strong precedents existed for the first of the four positions, even since before the ratification of the Constitution. The Northwest Ordinance (1787) prohibited slavery in the the territories north of the Ohio River and Thomas Jefferson's original draft of the Ordinance of 1784 regulating territories contained a stipulation that slavery in the territories would be prohibited after 1800. The stipulation was stripped from the ordinance, but only due the the sickness and absence of a single voter in the Confederation Congress. In 1820, the federal government passed the Missouri Compromise which prohibited slavery in the Louisiana territory north of 36' 30". It is noteworthy that during the discussion of the Missouri Compromise, John C. Calhoun, who later became the leading defender of the extension of slavery, endorsed the power of the federal government to prohibit it.
The Slave Power's early lack of concern over the federal power to restrict slavery changed as political sentiment against slavery grew in the country. Proslavery officials came to adopt a version of popular sovereignty that excluded federal authority over slavery in the territories. This headed off the extension of the Northwest Ordinance to the Orleans territory (Louisiana) and allowed the Arkansas territory to draft a slave code and be admitted as a slave state. The proslavery arguments held that the federal government should not dictate legislation to the citizens of the territories. To do so would be to treat them as colonies. This view was not based on any specific language in the Constitution. Indeed, Article Four, Section Three permitted the federal government to pass "needful rules and regulations" for the territories. Instead, the proslavery endorsement of popular sovereignty was based on a basic principle of American government that the people are capable of self-governance and that local authority should trump federal authority.
With the conquest of the Mexican territories, the proslavery position changed. The citizens of the territory of New Mexico were disposed to pass legislation prohibiting slavery, but to protect slavery, the Slave Power argued that the citizens of the territories were not politically mature enough for self-governance and that they could only prohibit slavery at the time they submitted an application for statehood. The Slave Power derided their own earlier position that allowed the territorial government authority over slavery, calling it "squatter sovereignty." It was thought by many that by insisting on "state sovereignty" instead, slaveholders would have time to emigrate to New Mexico and ensure that it would be admitted as a slave state.
By this time, Calhoun had recognized that even while the territorial governments might not be permitted to prohibit slavery, their slave codes (and social conditions) might effectively prohibit the emigration of slaves and slaveholders to the territories. What was necessary, according to Calhoun was the active protection of slave property by the federal government in the territories. Many southerners accepted Calhoun's analysis, but others, especially those in the upper South and border states, continued to adhere to "state sovereignty." Calhoun's position was effectively endorsed years after his death by the Supreme Court in Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857). More explicitly, Dred Scott rejected the constitutionality of the Missouri Compromise and held that the federal government had no authority to outlaw slavery in the territories, but by this time all four main positions regarding the extension of slavery were advanced by important political factions and various splinter positions were offered in an effort to reach a compromise over slavery.
Perhaps the most consistent position was held by the antislavery forces who argued that the federal government, empowered by the Constitution's Article Four, Section Three, could establish "needful rules and regulations" for the territories, that this included the prohibition of slavery, and that the frequent exercise of this power had established it in practice.
Among Childers's most interesting observations are the fine legal distinctions that were made by proponents of various versions of popular sovereignty. Proslavery radicals appeared to completely alter their views on popular sovereignty, moving through each of the four main positions to fit their interests in the extension of slavery. Steven A. Douglas, a more moderate politicians, retained his view that territorial governments could pass legislation regarding slavery (squatter sovereignty, if you will). Douglas argued that slavery could not exist where laws did not provide for its aid and protection. Douglas, consistent with his previous support for the Kansas-Nebraska Act, continued to argue for territorial sovereignty and against federal intervention in the territories. Douglas remained true to his commitment to the principle of self-determination of local communities. He also seemed to hope that this position would satisfy both southern and northern Democrats and maintain his party's political dominance.
Other politicians, particularly Lewis Cass attempted to satisfy both wings of the Democratic Party by issuing ambiguous statements on precisely when a territory was empowered to regulate slavery. His cagey approach nearly won him the presidency in 1848, but he was defeated by the Mexican War hero Zachery Taylor, who simply remained silent about the practicalities of popular sovereignty.
In general, The Failure of Popular Sovereignty is the story of a decades-long struggle over the extension of slavery. It provides an illuminating account of cross-cutting political considerations and evolving views about the constitutional protections afforded to slavery. Specific political figures involved in the formulation of the doctrine of popular sovereignty are vividly drawn, and the rising stakes in the debate lend growing excitement to the story. If there is a weakness to the history, it is the scant descriptions of the antislavery movement. A better understanding the internal debates within the Democratic Party over popular sovereignty would be achieved by placing the debate within a more vivid description of the larger political context. This would, of course, add a number of pages to the work, but the topic certainly deserves additional treatment.
The central concern in both the North and the South was the extension of slavery into the territories. In time, four positions surfaced: (1) the federal government had authority to regulate and even outlaw slavery in the territories, (2) the government of a territory could regulate or outlaw slavery, (3) the citizens of a territory could regulate and even outlaw slavery, but only when applying for statehood, and (4) the federal government had an obligation actively to protect slavery in the territories until the territory became a state. Other positions also surfaced, but they tended to be opportunistic modifications of one of these four.
Strong precedents existed for the first of the four positions, even since before the ratification of the Constitution. The Northwest Ordinance (1787) prohibited slavery in the the territories north of the Ohio River and Thomas Jefferson's original draft of the Ordinance of 1784 regulating territories contained a stipulation that slavery in the territories would be prohibited after 1800. The stipulation was stripped from the ordinance, but only due the the sickness and absence of a single voter in the Confederation Congress. In 1820, the federal government passed the Missouri Compromise which prohibited slavery in the Louisiana territory north of 36' 30". It is noteworthy that during the discussion of the Missouri Compromise, John C. Calhoun, who later became the leading defender of the extension of slavery, endorsed the power of the federal government to prohibit it.
The Slave Power's early lack of concern over the federal power to restrict slavery changed as political sentiment against slavery grew in the country. Proslavery officials came to adopt a version of popular sovereignty that excluded federal authority over slavery in the territories. This headed off the extension of the Northwest Ordinance to the Orleans territory (Louisiana) and allowed the Arkansas territory to draft a slave code and be admitted as a slave state. The proslavery arguments held that the federal government should not dictate legislation to the citizens of the territories. To do so would be to treat them as colonies. This view was not based on any specific language in the Constitution. Indeed, Article Four, Section Three permitted the federal government to pass "needful rules and regulations" for the territories. Instead, the proslavery endorsement of popular sovereignty was based on a basic principle of American government that the people are capable of self-governance and that local authority should trump federal authority.
With the conquest of the Mexican territories, the proslavery position changed. The citizens of the territory of New Mexico were disposed to pass legislation prohibiting slavery, but to protect slavery, the Slave Power argued that the citizens of the territories were not politically mature enough for self-governance and that they could only prohibit slavery at the time they submitted an application for statehood. The Slave Power derided their own earlier position that allowed the territorial government authority over slavery, calling it "squatter sovereignty." It was thought by many that by insisting on "state sovereignty" instead, slaveholders would have time to emigrate to New Mexico and ensure that it would be admitted as a slave state.
By this time, Calhoun had recognized that even while the territorial governments might not be permitted to prohibit slavery, their slave codes (and social conditions) might effectively prohibit the emigration of slaves and slaveholders to the territories. What was necessary, according to Calhoun was the active protection of slave property by the federal government in the territories. Many southerners accepted Calhoun's analysis, but others, especially those in the upper South and border states, continued to adhere to "state sovereignty." Calhoun's position was effectively endorsed years after his death by the Supreme Court in Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857). More explicitly, Dred Scott rejected the constitutionality of the Missouri Compromise and held that the federal government had no authority to outlaw slavery in the territories, but by this time all four main positions regarding the extension of slavery were advanced by important political factions and various splinter positions were offered in an effort to reach a compromise over slavery.
Perhaps the most consistent position was held by the antislavery forces who argued that the federal government, empowered by the Constitution's Article Four, Section Three, could establish "needful rules and regulations" for the territories, that this included the prohibition of slavery, and that the frequent exercise of this power had established it in practice.
Among Childers's most interesting observations are the fine legal distinctions that were made by proponents of various versions of popular sovereignty. Proslavery radicals appeared to completely alter their views on popular sovereignty, moving through each of the four main positions to fit their interests in the extension of slavery. Steven A. Douglas, a more moderate politicians, retained his view that territorial governments could pass legislation regarding slavery (squatter sovereignty, if you will). Douglas argued that slavery could not exist where laws did not provide for its aid and protection. Douglas, consistent with his previous support for the Kansas-Nebraska Act, continued to argue for territorial sovereignty and against federal intervention in the territories. Douglas remained true to his commitment to the principle of self-determination of local communities. He also seemed to hope that this position would satisfy both southern and northern Democrats and maintain his party's political dominance.
Other politicians, particularly Lewis Cass attempted to satisfy both wings of the Democratic Party by issuing ambiguous statements on precisely when a territory was empowered to regulate slavery. His cagey approach nearly won him the presidency in 1848, but he was defeated by the Mexican War hero Zachery Taylor, who simply remained silent about the practicalities of popular sovereignty.
In general, The Failure of Popular Sovereignty is the story of a decades-long struggle over the extension of slavery. It provides an illuminating account of cross-cutting political considerations and evolving views about the constitutional protections afforded to slavery. Specific political figures involved in the formulation of the doctrine of popular sovereignty are vividly drawn, and the rising stakes in the debate lend growing excitement to the story. If there is a weakness to the history, it is the scant descriptions of the antislavery movement. A better understanding the internal debates within the Democratic Party over popular sovereignty would be achieved by placing the debate within a more vivid description of the larger political context. This would, of course, add a number of pages to the work, but the topic certainly deserves additional treatment.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Mr. Lincoln Goes to War / William Marvel -- Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006
In Mr. Lincoln Goes to War William Marvel makes a strenuous case against Lincoln's actions in the first year of the war. Marvel's Lincoln appears to be eager for war and quite unconcerned about basic civil liberties enshrined in the Constitution. Among the earliest and most famous violations of civil liberties came in the case of John Merryman, a prominent Maryland resident. Well-know for his sympathies for secession, Merryman was arrested in May 1861and held without access to the courts until he was released in July. Merryman's arrest occurred during the most systematic violations of the right to habeas corpus which continued through the first year of the war. During that time, Lincoln authorized the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus in the region between Washington D.C. and Philadelphia and later extended the region to New York City.
While the right of habeas corpus is fundamental to a free society, Lincoln faced uncertain circumstances that threatened the federal government and potentially the rule of law throughout the country. In the early days of secession, it was not clear what path Maryland would take. Furthermore, rumors were rife within Washington D.C. that the Confederates were amassing an army to capture the city. Indeed, in early March 1861, the Confederate Congress called for 100,000 soldiers to volunteer for a one-year tour of duty. Given significant support for the southern cause within the city and in the state of Maryland, one could make a case for unprecedented police actions. As the threat to the capital subsided, Lincoln released all political prisoners (with some exceptions) on Feb. 14, 1862; however, following the imposition of a draft in the summer of 1863, Lincoln again suspended the writ of habeas corpus. It appears that Lincoln exercised this power for specific purposes at specific times.
Clearly, the Lincoln administration's record regarding civil liberties is at very least questionable, but Marvel's description of it as "arbitrary" seems too harsh under the circumstance. Marvel does little to credit these circumstances. In the case of civil war, one's mortal enemies are fellow citizens and so the protections of citizenship obviously will be strained. Indeed, the gravity of the conflict is illustrated by the violations of civil liberties on both sides, but Marvel makes no mention of the violations perpetrated by the Confederate government. The Confederate Congress authorized the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus in 1862, passed the Alien Enemies Act which authorized the arrest of anyone in the Confederate states who did not acknowledge Confederate citizenship, and passed the Sequestration Act which authorized the permanent confiscation of the property of Union sympathizers. These actions, along with formation of a hostile army demonstrate the gravity of the threat posed to federal authority and the government itself.
Marvel makes much of the fact that many Union soldiers joined the army not out of a moral or nationalist impulse, but because of economic need. He furthermore notes that a draft was required to sustain the Union war effort. The conclusion Marvel is leading us to is that the war was -- from the beginning -- foisted upon the people of the country by an aggressive president. It should come as no surprise that those signing up to military service would be disproportionately poor and unemployed, but some degree of allegiance to the cause is likely to part of the decision to enlist, particularly as the horror of the war became better known. It is noteworthy that less than 20% of the Union forces were enlisted due to the draft. Marvel does not mention that southerners also joined the Confederate army for economic reasons and that a Confederate draft was required a year prior to the Union draft. Soft popular support for the Confederate cause lends credence to the view that the secession of southern states was in fact a rebellion by a privileged southern elite, not an act of northern aggression.
Marvel also describes the suppression of the press in the North, but again, the exigencies of civil war are not recognized and little mention is made of the state of the press in the South. Marvel does acknowledge that pro-union presses were closed by the Confederacy, but writes that presses in the South practiced "voluntary restraint" and that the infrequency of attacks on the press could be explained by the fact that in the South "the dominant slave culture had long repressed divergent opinion." Time and time again, Marvel provides excuses for Confederate violations of basic liberties, but excoriates the Lincoln administration for similar violations.
Lincoln is not the only object of Marvel's criticism. In a chapter entitled, "The Crimson Corse of Lyon," Marvel describes the Union campaign to control Missouri. For Marvel it is a rebellion against the authorized government of the state of Missouri. Lyon is called "an insubordinate, self-righteous psychopath" who "would not hear of peace when he saw so rare and opportunity to fulfill his apocalyptic personal destiny." It is remarkable that Marvel could diagnosis a personality disorder in Lyon one hundred and fifty years after Lyon's death, when it is difficult for qualified psychiatrists to make such diagnoses for their contemporary patients. It says more about Marvel's polemical intent than Lyon's personality. Marvel writes that Lyon's "unstable temperament" is revealed by his providing intelligence to McClellan that turned out to be incorrect. The connection is so unclear that it borders on being a non sequitur, and in fact, in one case, the "incorrect intelligence" was not really off the mark at all. Confederate forces really were assembling in Arkansas in preparation for an invasion of Missouri.
For a revealing portrait of Lyon, Marvel credits Christopher Phillips's harsh 1990 biography of Lyon, entitled Damned Yankee. I have not read Damned Yankee, but its initial paragraphs read less like history and more like an historical novel. Phillips describes dramatic details that he could not possible know took place. He does so clearly for literary effect. "Pulling pensively at his unruly red beard, forty-three-year-old Brig. Gen. Nathaniel Lyon watched the commotion in the street....His features hardened, the wrinkles at the top of his hooked nose deepened, and his small mouth clenched his cigar as tightly as his false teeth would allow." Prose of this sort hardly engenders confidence in the accuracy of Phillips's accounts.
This is not to say that Marvel's work is credulous. His bibliography reveals the serious research that lies behind his work, but it is not exceptional by professional standards. Marvel makes good use of primary sources, particularly letters and newspaper accounts. He also makes heavy use of The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, but any number of historians have done as well and have not drawn the starkly critical conclusions that Marvel draws. The scrupulous detail tends, however, to ocur in the passages which provide rather tedious accounts of troop movements. Such passages make up a substantial portion of Marvel's work.
At times Marvel's polemics clearly get the best of historical accuracy. At one point he writes of "Lincoln's expedition against Ft. Sumter." Here he is referring to a flotilla of ships that Lincoln ordered to deliver food and water to the besieged Union garrison. Marvel has turned a defensive, holding action into aggression. This may be a simple editorial oversight, but it reveals the lens through which Marvel views history and the extent to which it distorts his vision. The actions "against" Ft. Sumter in 1861 were all perpetrated by the Confederacy -- first a siege and then a potentially murderous bombardment.
Lying behind Marvel's work is the view that Lincoln's defense of federal property and willingness to engage in war was illegal, immoral, and unnecessary. The best defense of this view that I have read is in Democracy in the United States by Ransom H. Gillet, published in 1868. Prior to the war, Gillet was a member of the Democratic Party and a U.S. Representative from New York. His book attempts to resurrect the much-tarnished reputation of the Democratic Party. It is a scathing, partisan attack on the Lincoln administration. Were Marvel to comment on Gillet's work, I suspect he would find Gillet the most accurate and astute observer of the times.
While the right of habeas corpus is fundamental to a free society, Lincoln faced uncertain circumstances that threatened the federal government and potentially the rule of law throughout the country. In the early days of secession, it was not clear what path Maryland would take. Furthermore, rumors were rife within Washington D.C. that the Confederates were amassing an army to capture the city. Indeed, in early March 1861, the Confederate Congress called for 100,000 soldiers to volunteer for a one-year tour of duty. Given significant support for the southern cause within the city and in the state of Maryland, one could make a case for unprecedented police actions. As the threat to the capital subsided, Lincoln released all political prisoners (with some exceptions) on Feb. 14, 1862; however, following the imposition of a draft in the summer of 1863, Lincoln again suspended the writ of habeas corpus. It appears that Lincoln exercised this power for specific purposes at specific times.
Clearly, the Lincoln administration's record regarding civil liberties is at very least questionable, but Marvel's description of it as "arbitrary" seems too harsh under the circumstance. Marvel does little to credit these circumstances. In the case of civil war, one's mortal enemies are fellow citizens and so the protections of citizenship obviously will be strained. Indeed, the gravity of the conflict is illustrated by the violations of civil liberties on both sides, but Marvel makes no mention of the violations perpetrated by the Confederate government. The Confederate Congress authorized the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus in 1862, passed the Alien Enemies Act which authorized the arrest of anyone in the Confederate states who did not acknowledge Confederate citizenship, and passed the Sequestration Act which authorized the permanent confiscation of the property of Union sympathizers. These actions, along with formation of a hostile army demonstrate the gravity of the threat posed to federal authority and the government itself.
Marvel makes much of the fact that many Union soldiers joined the army not out of a moral or nationalist impulse, but because of economic need. He furthermore notes that a draft was required to sustain the Union war effort. The conclusion Marvel is leading us to is that the war was -- from the beginning -- foisted upon the people of the country by an aggressive president. It should come as no surprise that those signing up to military service would be disproportionately poor and unemployed, but some degree of allegiance to the cause is likely to part of the decision to enlist, particularly as the horror of the war became better known. It is noteworthy that less than 20% of the Union forces were enlisted due to the draft. Marvel does not mention that southerners also joined the Confederate army for economic reasons and that a Confederate draft was required a year prior to the Union draft. Soft popular support for the Confederate cause lends credence to the view that the secession of southern states was in fact a rebellion by a privileged southern elite, not an act of northern aggression.
Marvel also describes the suppression of the press in the North, but again, the exigencies of civil war are not recognized and little mention is made of the state of the press in the South. Marvel does acknowledge that pro-union presses were closed by the Confederacy, but writes that presses in the South practiced "voluntary restraint" and that the infrequency of attacks on the press could be explained by the fact that in the South "the dominant slave culture had long repressed divergent opinion." Time and time again, Marvel provides excuses for Confederate violations of basic liberties, but excoriates the Lincoln administration for similar violations.
Lincoln is not the only object of Marvel's criticism. In a chapter entitled, "The Crimson Corse of Lyon," Marvel describes the Union campaign to control Missouri. For Marvel it is a rebellion against the authorized government of the state of Missouri. Lyon is called "an insubordinate, self-righteous psychopath" who "would not hear of peace when he saw so rare and opportunity to fulfill his apocalyptic personal destiny." It is remarkable that Marvel could diagnosis a personality disorder in Lyon one hundred and fifty years after Lyon's death, when it is difficult for qualified psychiatrists to make such diagnoses for their contemporary patients. It says more about Marvel's polemical intent than Lyon's personality. Marvel writes that Lyon's "unstable temperament" is revealed by his providing intelligence to McClellan that turned out to be incorrect. The connection is so unclear that it borders on being a non sequitur, and in fact, in one case, the "incorrect intelligence" was not really off the mark at all. Confederate forces really were assembling in Arkansas in preparation for an invasion of Missouri.
For a revealing portrait of Lyon, Marvel credits Christopher Phillips's harsh 1990 biography of Lyon, entitled Damned Yankee. I have not read Damned Yankee, but its initial paragraphs read less like history and more like an historical novel. Phillips describes dramatic details that he could not possible know took place. He does so clearly for literary effect. "Pulling pensively at his unruly red beard, forty-three-year-old Brig. Gen. Nathaniel Lyon watched the commotion in the street....His features hardened, the wrinkles at the top of his hooked nose deepened, and his small mouth clenched his cigar as tightly as his false teeth would allow." Prose of this sort hardly engenders confidence in the accuracy of Phillips's accounts.
This is not to say that Marvel's work is credulous. His bibliography reveals the serious research that lies behind his work, but it is not exceptional by professional standards. Marvel makes good use of primary sources, particularly letters and newspaper accounts. He also makes heavy use of The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, but any number of historians have done as well and have not drawn the starkly critical conclusions that Marvel draws. The scrupulous detail tends, however, to ocur in the passages which provide rather tedious accounts of troop movements. Such passages make up a substantial portion of Marvel's work.
At times Marvel's polemics clearly get the best of historical accuracy. At one point he writes of "Lincoln's expedition against Ft. Sumter." Here he is referring to a flotilla of ships that Lincoln ordered to deliver food and water to the besieged Union garrison. Marvel has turned a defensive, holding action into aggression. This may be a simple editorial oversight, but it reveals the lens through which Marvel views history and the extent to which it distorts his vision. The actions "against" Ft. Sumter in 1861 were all perpetrated by the Confederacy -- first a siege and then a potentially murderous bombardment.
Lying behind Marvel's work is the view that Lincoln's defense of federal property and willingness to engage in war was illegal, immoral, and unnecessary. The best defense of this view that I have read is in Democracy in the United States by Ransom H. Gillet, published in 1868. Prior to the war, Gillet was a member of the Democratic Party and a U.S. Representative from New York. His book attempts to resurrect the much-tarnished reputation of the Democratic Party. It is a scathing, partisan attack on the Lincoln administration. Were Marvel to comment on Gillet's work, I suspect he would find Gillet the most accurate and astute observer of the times.
We Have the War Upon Us: The Onset of the Civil War, November 1860-April 1861 / William J. Cooper -- N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 2012
The American Civil War was long in coming. As early as the founding of the country, pro-slavery and anti-slavery forces struggled over slavery. At various times in the first half of the 18th century, the political conflict threatened to lead to secession, and of course secession and war finally did come following the election of Abraham Lincoln in November 1860.
The main questions at issue were whether or not slavery would be permitted in the U.S. territories and in the states to be created out of those territories. The Republican platform ratified at the 1860 convention in Chicago called for the complete prohibition of slavery in the territories. The Democratic Party was, however, divided. Under the banner of "popular sovereignty," the northern faction supported the right of territorial governments to prohibit slavery. The southern faction held that only state constitutions could establish such prohibitions. Unable to resolve their differences, the Democratic Party split and ran two candidates: Steven A. Douglas and John C. Breckinridge.
Lincoln's election is often thought of as being a result of the split in the Democratic Party. He certainly failed to receive a majority of the popular vote nation-wide and he received virtually no votes in the southern states. His victories in the northern states, however, gave him the electoral votes necessary to win the election, but even if Democratic Party voters had not split their votes, Lincoln's majorities in the northern states would have put him in the White House. State by state popular vote totals demonstrate just how divided the country was on the issue of slavery, particularly the extension of slavery into the territories.
In the weeks following Lincoln's election, seven states seceded from the Union (South Carolina, Mississippi, Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana, Florida, and Texas). These states established the Confederate States of America. Its constitution guaranteed slavery in all its states and territories. The movement toward secession was unable to reach beyond the the deep south, though, until after the fall of Ft. Sumter on April 13 and Lincoln's subsequent call for 75,000 troops to defend the Union. The prospect that federal troops would be used to occupy and "reconstruct" the seceded states led to the secession of Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Arkansas. The Kentucky legislature declared Kentucky neutral in the conflict, while the federal occupation of Maryland and Missouri precluded secession in those states.
William Cooper's We Have the War Upon Us provides a close account of events between the election of Lincoln and the fall of Ft. Sumter. He especially examines the negotiations between Republicans and conditional unionists who sought to avoid the secession of the upper southern and border states. His treatment is careful and generally even-handed, relying on both primary and secondary sources. The actions (and non-actions) of William Seward and Abraham Lincoln play a central role in Cooper's account -- Seward working hard to accommodate the interests of the conditional unionists and Lincoln remaining largely silent on what his approach to the crisis would be upon his inauguration. The out-going president James Buchanan also played an important role in the unfolding events. Buchanan's view was that while states did not have the legal authority to leave the Union, the federal government did not have the authority to defend its sovereignty over the seceded states. One might argue that his inactivity to address secession forcefully at an early stage left the new Republican administration with a irremediable problem.
The greatest weakness in Cooper's account of the events leading to war is his short treatment of the actions of southern "fire-eaters," i.e., southerners dedicated to secession and the defense of slavery without compromise. By emphasizing the negotiations between the hard line Republicans and the conditional unionists, one is left with the impression that the intransigence of the hard line Republicans was more responsible for the coming of war than is justified. Cooper does not, for example, give much time to discussing the call by the Confederate Congress for 100,000 troops to serve for one year. This call was made more than a month before Lincoln's call for 75,000 troops to serve for 90 days. To keep these numbers in perspective, the federal army was composed of only 16,000 troops prior to 1861, most of whom were stationed in the South and in the territories. Many of these soldiers -- and most of the officers -- resigned from the federal army and joined the Confederate forces. Under these circumstances, the rumors of threats to Washington D.C. could not be ignored and the vulnerability of the territories to Confederate annexation was significant. In the end, it is not unreasonable to conclude that Lincoln followed the least belligerent course possible that still adhered to his responsibility to defend federal property.
Reviewing the efforts to negotiate an agreement that would prevent secession and war, leads the reader to conclude that Seward was correct in his assessment that the war was "irrepressible." Efforts by Congress as a whole, the House of Representative's Committee of Thirty-three, the Senate's Committee of Thirteen, the non-governmental Peace Convention, and the Confederate commissioners who came to Washington to negotiate a peaceful separation all appeared to be futile exercises in the face of long entrenched, partisan commitments to an uncompromising resolution to the nation's problem. In that sense, Cooper's title, We Have the War Upon Us is most certainly apt.
The main questions at issue were whether or not slavery would be permitted in the U.S. territories and in the states to be created out of those territories. The Republican platform ratified at the 1860 convention in Chicago called for the complete prohibition of slavery in the territories. The Democratic Party was, however, divided. Under the banner of "popular sovereignty," the northern faction supported the right of territorial governments to prohibit slavery. The southern faction held that only state constitutions could establish such prohibitions. Unable to resolve their differences, the Democratic Party split and ran two candidates: Steven A. Douglas and John C. Breckinridge.
Lincoln's election is often thought of as being a result of the split in the Democratic Party. He certainly failed to receive a majority of the popular vote nation-wide and he received virtually no votes in the southern states. His victories in the northern states, however, gave him the electoral votes necessary to win the election, but even if Democratic Party voters had not split their votes, Lincoln's majorities in the northern states would have put him in the White House. State by state popular vote totals demonstrate just how divided the country was on the issue of slavery, particularly the extension of slavery into the territories.
In the weeks following Lincoln's election, seven states seceded from the Union (South Carolina, Mississippi, Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana, Florida, and Texas). These states established the Confederate States of America. Its constitution guaranteed slavery in all its states and territories. The movement toward secession was unable to reach beyond the the deep south, though, until after the fall of Ft. Sumter on April 13 and Lincoln's subsequent call for 75,000 troops to defend the Union. The prospect that federal troops would be used to occupy and "reconstruct" the seceded states led to the secession of Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Arkansas. The Kentucky legislature declared Kentucky neutral in the conflict, while the federal occupation of Maryland and Missouri precluded secession in those states.
William Cooper's We Have the War Upon Us provides a close account of events between the election of Lincoln and the fall of Ft. Sumter. He especially examines the negotiations between Republicans and conditional unionists who sought to avoid the secession of the upper southern and border states. His treatment is careful and generally even-handed, relying on both primary and secondary sources. The actions (and non-actions) of William Seward and Abraham Lincoln play a central role in Cooper's account -- Seward working hard to accommodate the interests of the conditional unionists and Lincoln remaining largely silent on what his approach to the crisis would be upon his inauguration. The out-going president James Buchanan also played an important role in the unfolding events. Buchanan's view was that while states did not have the legal authority to leave the Union, the federal government did not have the authority to defend its sovereignty over the seceded states. One might argue that his inactivity to address secession forcefully at an early stage left the new Republican administration with a irremediable problem.
The greatest weakness in Cooper's account of the events leading to war is his short treatment of the actions of southern "fire-eaters," i.e., southerners dedicated to secession and the defense of slavery without compromise. By emphasizing the negotiations between the hard line Republicans and the conditional unionists, one is left with the impression that the intransigence of the hard line Republicans was more responsible for the coming of war than is justified. Cooper does not, for example, give much time to discussing the call by the Confederate Congress for 100,000 troops to serve for one year. This call was made more than a month before Lincoln's call for 75,000 troops to serve for 90 days. To keep these numbers in perspective, the federal army was composed of only 16,000 troops prior to 1861, most of whom were stationed in the South and in the territories. Many of these soldiers -- and most of the officers -- resigned from the federal army and joined the Confederate forces. Under these circumstances, the rumors of threats to Washington D.C. could not be ignored and the vulnerability of the territories to Confederate annexation was significant. In the end, it is not unreasonable to conclude that Lincoln followed the least belligerent course possible that still adhered to his responsibility to defend federal property.
Reviewing the efforts to negotiate an agreement that would prevent secession and war, leads the reader to conclude that Seward was correct in his assessment that the war was "irrepressible." Efforts by Congress as a whole, the House of Representative's Committee of Thirty-three, the Senate's Committee of Thirteen, the non-governmental Peace Convention, and the Confederate commissioners who came to Washington to negotiate a peaceful separation all appeared to be futile exercises in the face of long entrenched, partisan commitments to an uncompromising resolution to the nation's problem. In that sense, Cooper's title, We Have the War Upon Us is most certainly apt.
Friday, April 27, 2012
The Battle of Pea Ridge: The Civil War Fight for the Ozarks / James R. Knight -- Charleston, S.C.: The History Press, 2012
There is probably no conflict that has been written about more than the U.S. Civil War. This is both due to the large audience for such works and the large number of amateur historians who are able to find publishers for their research. Such research usually focuses narrowly on a subject that is glossed over or even completely ignored by more general, popular works. The best of this work is based on local historical archives and other primary sources and casts the war or events in the war in a new and valuable light. The worst of it is highly derivative and contributes little to what is already known about the war. Often, these works detail events that provide no help in gaining a deeper understanding of the significance of the war. Sadly, James Knight's short book The Battle of Pea Ridge falls more in the latter category than the former.
The Battle of Pea Ridge is precisely what the title suggests: a blow by blow (or movement by movement) account of the battle between Earl Van Dorn's Confederate army and Samuel R. Curtis's Union army. It is mostly workman-like recounting of the events of the battle, though the presentation is sometimes disjointed and the writing is at best journalistic. It will be of interest to amateur military historians, but more expert historians might be disappointed. Its end notes indicate that it owes a great deal to William Shea and Earl Hess's book Pea Ridge (Chapel Hill, N.C.: UNC Press, 1992) and The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series 1, Volume 8 (Washington D.C.: GPO, 1880-1901).
Knight rightly recognizes that the battle is of much greater significance than it is commonly accorded, but it is a shame that he did not do more to place the battle in its broader social and political context.
The Battle of Pea Ridge is precisely what the title suggests: a blow by blow (or movement by movement) account of the battle between Earl Van Dorn's Confederate army and Samuel R. Curtis's Union army. It is mostly workman-like recounting of the events of the battle, though the presentation is sometimes disjointed and the writing is at best journalistic. It will be of interest to amateur military historians, but more expert historians might be disappointed. Its end notes indicate that it owes a great deal to William Shea and Earl Hess's book Pea Ridge (Chapel Hill, N.C.: UNC Press, 1992) and The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series 1, Volume 8 (Washington D.C.: GPO, 1880-1901).
Knight rightly recognizes that the battle is of much greater significance than it is commonly accorded, but it is a shame that he did not do more to place the battle in its broader social and political context.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
The Die Is Cast: Arkansas Goes to War, 1861 / Mark K. Christ, ed. -- Little Rock, Ark.: Butler Center Books, 2010
One of the amazing things about the American Civil War is that after almost 150 years, so many people remain utterly obsessed with it. The war's enormous human toll is surely a significant explanation for this. Nonetheless, it is astonishing that people in every corner of the country that saw any part of the struggle meticulously pick over the smallest details of their locality's role in the war, making the Civil War perhaps the most studied (and understood) events in history.
In August of 2008, the Old State House Museum in Little Rock, Arkansas hosted five historians at a seminar entitled "The Die is Cast: Arkansas Goes to War" in which the secession of Arkansas was examined from a variety of perspectives. Under the editorship of Mark Christ, the seminar's five papers create a brief but interesting insight into a little-studied corner of the Civil War.
Among the most interesting papers is Thomas A. DeBlack's "'A Remarkably Strong Union Sentiment': Unionism in Arkansas." DeBlack explains, "Arkansas needed the Union more than many other states. Citizens of western Arkansas, bordered by the Indian Territory, wanted the protection and economic benefits that the presence of federal troops supplied. Delta residents hoped to benefit from a federal swamplands reclamation project begun in 1850." Only 20% of the white population owned slaves and the remaining population saw no strong reason to sacrifice their interests for these slave owners. Even the slave owners were divided as to the wisdom of secession. Economically, Arkansas was more closely integrated with Missouri and the Old Northwest than with the rest of the South. While the sentiment in favor of secession was weak, the sentiment against forcing states to remain in the Union was strong, ultimately resulting in the secession of Arkansas.
In "Why they Fought: Arkansas Goes to War, 1861," Carl H. Moneyhon explains that the allure of adventure and manly pride motivated the state's young men to sign on to the Confederate cause. Once committed to the struggle, the combatants remained in the struggle both out of personal integrity and out of a conversion to the cause. In "Domesticity Goes Public: Southern Women and the Secession Crisis," Lisa Tendrich Frank describes the moral force that women played in pushing men into battle.
The remaining two papers tell less specialized stories, or at least cover the kind of subject common in Civil War histories. Michael A. Dougan describes the Arkansas Secession Convention and William Garrett Piston describes the involvement of Arkansas troops in the Wilson's Creek Campaign.
While each of the five papers address a distinct aspect of the Civil War in Arkansas, there is enough overlap and connection between them to provide the reader with a coherent, broad picture in a rather short work. Whether this was accidental or a result of the work of editor Mark Christ is not clear, but the volume certainly benefits from the interconnections. The work, however, is not so compelling that one is left with a strong desire to learn more about Arkansas in the Civil War. A brief glimpse is enough.
In August of 2008, the Old State House Museum in Little Rock, Arkansas hosted five historians at a seminar entitled "The Die is Cast: Arkansas Goes to War" in which the secession of Arkansas was examined from a variety of perspectives. Under the editorship of Mark Christ, the seminar's five papers create a brief but interesting insight into a little-studied corner of the Civil War.
Among the most interesting papers is Thomas A. DeBlack's "'A Remarkably Strong Union Sentiment': Unionism in Arkansas." DeBlack explains, "Arkansas needed the Union more than many other states. Citizens of western Arkansas, bordered by the Indian Territory, wanted the protection and economic benefits that the presence of federal troops supplied. Delta residents hoped to benefit from a federal swamplands reclamation project begun in 1850." Only 20% of the white population owned slaves and the remaining population saw no strong reason to sacrifice their interests for these slave owners. Even the slave owners were divided as to the wisdom of secession. Economically, Arkansas was more closely integrated with Missouri and the Old Northwest than with the rest of the South. While the sentiment in favor of secession was weak, the sentiment against forcing states to remain in the Union was strong, ultimately resulting in the secession of Arkansas.
In "Why they Fought: Arkansas Goes to War, 1861," Carl H. Moneyhon explains that the allure of adventure and manly pride motivated the state's young men to sign on to the Confederate cause. Once committed to the struggle, the combatants remained in the struggle both out of personal integrity and out of a conversion to the cause. In "Domesticity Goes Public: Southern Women and the Secession Crisis," Lisa Tendrich Frank describes the moral force that women played in pushing men into battle.
The remaining two papers tell less specialized stories, or at least cover the kind of subject common in Civil War histories. Michael A. Dougan describes the Arkansas Secession Convention and William Garrett Piston describes the involvement of Arkansas troops in the Wilson's Creek Campaign.
While each of the five papers address a distinct aspect of the Civil War in Arkansas, there is enough overlap and connection between them to provide the reader with a coherent, broad picture in a rather short work. Whether this was accidental or a result of the work of editor Mark Christ is not clear, but the volume certainly benefits from the interconnections. The work, however, is not so compelling that one is left with a strong desire to learn more about Arkansas in the Civil War. A brief glimpse is enough.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Lincoln on Trial: Southern Civilians and the Law of War / Burrus M. Carnahan -- Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky, 2010
The recent "War on Terrorism" has generated some perplexing legal problems with regard to how a nation state, in particular the U.S., may treat "unlawful combatants," i.e., persons who are members of a non-state terrorist group. As such, they are said not to enjoy the protections of the Third Geneva Convention. Furthermore, the U.S. government asserts the right to detain them until the end of hostilities; however, when such persons are U.S. citizens, their right to petition for habeas corpus stands against the government's claim to detain them for the duration of hostilities. Clear and uncomplicated rulings on these issues seem remote, and it is doubtful that the law governing such cases will be settled anytime soon.
The difficulty is not without precedent, though, as is demonstrated in Burrus M. Carnahan's recent book Lincoln on Trial. Carnahan amply illustrates the legal, political, and moral difficulties that Lincoln and the military forces of the Union had in dealing with Confederate rebels. As with the current conflict, the legal treatment of Confederate rebels was complex and at times contradictory.
At the start of the war, Lincoln took pains to do nothing that would bestow sovereign status on the seceded states. This was far from simple. The first challenge was to maintain a blockade of Southern ports. To be effective, the blockade would require Union ships to search and seize ships and their cargoes outside of the territorial waters of the U.S. Under international law, this would be permitted only if the South were recognized as a sovereign state.
Similarly, the right of the Union armies to appropriate supplies from non-combatant Southerners would exist only if the population was deemed an alien population, not protected by the Constitution. Furthermore, captured Union soldiers could not be exchanged for Confederate soldiers unless all were officially classified as prisoners of war. Lincoln's response to these dilemmas was to gradually act as though the Confederacy was a sovereign state.
Carnahan's book is primarily a litany of ostensible violations of the rights of Southern non-combatants. Through out, Carnahan argues that Lincoln largely allowed his generals to interpret and abide by rules of engagement for Union troops developed and outlined by Francis Lieber in the Lieber Code; however, when specific controversial acts that did not seem justified by military necessity were brought to his attention, Lincoln commonly intervened without ever establishing broader executive orders to prevent future abuses.
The final verdict appears to be that Lincoln expected his generals to interpret and abide by a code of conduct that might justify significant attrocities under strained interpretations, but would not, himself, reach those interpretations. In all, Lincoln appears to have approached the problem pragmatically, seeking to minimize damage to the South, without compromising the aims of the war.
The difficulty is not without precedent, though, as is demonstrated in Burrus M. Carnahan's recent book Lincoln on Trial. Carnahan amply illustrates the legal, political, and moral difficulties that Lincoln and the military forces of the Union had in dealing with Confederate rebels. As with the current conflict, the legal treatment of Confederate rebels was complex and at times contradictory.
At the start of the war, Lincoln took pains to do nothing that would bestow sovereign status on the seceded states. This was far from simple. The first challenge was to maintain a blockade of Southern ports. To be effective, the blockade would require Union ships to search and seize ships and their cargoes outside of the territorial waters of the U.S. Under international law, this would be permitted only if the South were recognized as a sovereign state.
Similarly, the right of the Union armies to appropriate supplies from non-combatant Southerners would exist only if the population was deemed an alien population, not protected by the Constitution. Furthermore, captured Union soldiers could not be exchanged for Confederate soldiers unless all were officially classified as prisoners of war. Lincoln's response to these dilemmas was to gradually act as though the Confederacy was a sovereign state.
Carnahan's book is primarily a litany of ostensible violations of the rights of Southern non-combatants. Through out, Carnahan argues that Lincoln largely allowed his generals to interpret and abide by rules of engagement for Union troops developed and outlined by Francis Lieber in the Lieber Code; however, when specific controversial acts that did not seem justified by military necessity were brought to his attention, Lincoln commonly intervened without ever establishing broader executive orders to prevent future abuses.
The final verdict appears to be that Lincoln expected his generals to interpret and abide by a code of conduct that might justify significant attrocities under strained interpretations, but would not, himself, reach those interpretations. In all, Lincoln appears to have approached the problem pragmatically, seeking to minimize damage to the South, without compromising the aims of the war.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Missouri's War: The Civil War in Documents / Silvana R. Siddali, ed. -- Athens, OH: Ohio University Press, 2009.
Missouri seldom gets a lot of attention in broad overviews of the Civil War. Too much happened in Virginia and in other southern states to allow for anything more than a cursory account of Gen. Nathaniel Lyon's efforts to secure Missouri. Nonetheless, early events in Missouri were likely key to heading off a longer war than actually unfolded. With a secure base in St. Louis, Grant was able to launch his successful invasion of the South, and capture Vicksburg. Had St. Louis remained contested in the early years or had it become a Southern stronghold, it is doubtful that Grant's could have attempted an invasion at all and the course of the war would have been profoundly different.
Happily, there are many specialized books detailing events in Missouri. Some are historical sketches others are replete with important documents. Missouri's War, edited by Silvana R. Siddali is a mixture of the two formats. Each of its eight chapters are composed largely of letters, newspaper articles, government reports and proclamations, with each document preceded by an introductory paragraph. Each chapter is also introduced with a few pages setting the context of the chapter's subject. These include treatments of Slavery, the popular reaction to the war, battles in Missouri, condition for Missouri residents, and issues related to emancipation.
Siddali's introductions are clear and useful. Reading only the chapter introductions amounts to reading a thorough article on the war in Missouri. Following that, one can pick out the chapters of most interest and read the documents contained therein. Perhaps the most interesting documents are personal letters describing prominent events. While newspaper accounts of the era provide explicitly partisan descriptions, private letters even more so humanize the political and social sentiments that animated the country.
Among the most illuminating aspects of Missouri's War is the extent to which the question of emancipation and equal rights for slaves was a tactical matter in winning the war. The large majority of Missourians were not slave owners and were committed to keeping the state in the Union. However, they also had little sympathy for abolitionists and resented the intrusion of wider national disputes in their affairs. Many appeared to believe that by accommodating slavery, the Union could be preserved and war could be avoided; however, once the war began, there appeared to be a steady change in public opinion. By the middle of the war, the idea that abolishing slavery would remove the bone of contention and bring peace to Missouri and possibly to the nation.
The popular understanding of the Civil War and the dispute over slavery leans toward a simplified conflict of extremes. However, reading the documents in Missouri's War Highlights how few extremists there were in the country or at least in Missouri and how nuanced was the thinking about slavery and how reluctant the population, particularly the population of the North, was to engage in war. Nonetheless, the conflict over slavery was too profound and the commitments of the Southern Radicals and the Abolitionists were to entrenched not to bring the great bulk of the population into the conflict. Missouri, even more so that other border states, illustrates this broader political dynamic.
Missouri's War is one volume in a series being published by Ohio University Press entitled The Civil War in the Great Interior. Works on Ohio and Indiana are already published with works on Kansas, Michigan, and Wisconsin forthcoming. If they are as good as Missouri's War, they will be well worth reading.
Happily, there are many specialized books detailing events in Missouri. Some are historical sketches others are replete with important documents. Missouri's War, edited by Silvana R. Siddali is a mixture of the two formats. Each of its eight chapters are composed largely of letters, newspaper articles, government reports and proclamations, with each document preceded by an introductory paragraph. Each chapter is also introduced with a few pages setting the context of the chapter's subject. These include treatments of Slavery, the popular reaction to the war, battles in Missouri, condition for Missouri residents, and issues related to emancipation.
Siddali's introductions are clear and useful. Reading only the chapter introductions amounts to reading a thorough article on the war in Missouri. Following that, one can pick out the chapters of most interest and read the documents contained therein. Perhaps the most interesting documents are personal letters describing prominent events. While newspaper accounts of the era provide explicitly partisan descriptions, private letters even more so humanize the political and social sentiments that animated the country.
Among the most illuminating aspects of Missouri's War is the extent to which the question of emancipation and equal rights for slaves was a tactical matter in winning the war. The large majority of Missourians were not slave owners and were committed to keeping the state in the Union. However, they also had little sympathy for abolitionists and resented the intrusion of wider national disputes in their affairs. Many appeared to believe that by accommodating slavery, the Union could be preserved and war could be avoided; however, once the war began, there appeared to be a steady change in public opinion. By the middle of the war, the idea that abolishing slavery would remove the bone of contention and bring peace to Missouri and possibly to the nation.
The popular understanding of the Civil War and the dispute over slavery leans toward a simplified conflict of extremes. However, reading the documents in Missouri's War Highlights how few extremists there were in the country or at least in Missouri and how nuanced was the thinking about slavery and how reluctant the population, particularly the population of the North, was to engage in war. Nonetheless, the conflict over slavery was too profound and the commitments of the Southern Radicals and the Abolitionists were to entrenched not to bring the great bulk of the population into the conflict. Missouri, even more so that other border states, illustrates this broader political dynamic.
Missouri's War is one volume in a series being published by Ohio University Press entitled The Civil War in the Great Interior. Works on Ohio and Indiana are already published with works on Kansas, Michigan, and Wisconsin forthcoming. If they are as good as Missouri's War, they will be well worth reading.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Constitutional and Political History of the United States, Vol. 7 / Hermann von Holst -- Chicago: Callaghan and Co., 1892
From 1889 to 1892, Professor Hermann von Holst of the University of Freiburg saw the publication of an English translation of his eight volume constitutional and political history of the United States. The first seven volumes trace events from 1750 to the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln in March of 1861. The final volume is an index to the work. Volume seven covers just the last two years of that period and consequently provides a hoard of fascinating details describing the collapse of any hope for avoiding the secession of the several Southern states and civil war.
Horst begins his work with an account of John Brown and his raid on the arsenal at Harper's Ferry. He indicates that the overly excited reaction to Brown revealed a deep seated fear that the South was reaching the end of its ability to maintain control of federal institutions. His account of subsequent actions by Southern politicians makes a strong case. For example, the rabid reaction against Hinton Rowan Helper's book The Impending Crisis of the South indicated how tenuous the planter class felt their political power was over non-slave owning Southern whites.
Yet most of the Horst's work describes the efforts of Northern (or conservative) Democrats to placate the Southern radicals and the machinations of politicians of every party to advance their political goals. Central to these events were Constitutional interpretations related to the right to property in slaves and the right of a state to secede. His account of James Buchanan's view on secession is especially interesting. Buchanan held that while a state had no right to secede, the federal government had no right to use force to prevent its secession. Horst properly criticizes this view as incoherent, but does not make clear what Buchanan's motivations might have been for holding the view. At times, he seems to suggest that Buchanan was quietly encouraging the South to secede, but sought to avoid war while he was in office. At other times, it seems that Buchanan honestly believed that by taking a passive position on secession, prodigal states would soon enough return to the Union without war.
Other politicians (including some Republicans) seemed equally eager to accommodate the wishes of the Southern radicals in an effort to avoid war; however, the political division within the Democratic Party was too great for them to reach agreement on how to deal with slavery. Southern radicals sought to explicitly enshrine slavery in the Constitution, while conservative Democrats supported Stephen A. Douglas's doctrine of "popular sovereignty" in which states would be free to permit or prohibit slavery as they saw fit. These disagreements played out in a series of political conventions that ultimate split the Democratic Party and led to Lincoln's election by a Republican plurality.
What is most amazing was the unending efforts by politicians to reach a compromise and the willingness of many Republicans to abandon the slavery planks of their platform to head off war. The leading Republican of the time, William Seward, engaged in private negotiations prior to joining the Lincoln administration. According to Horst, Seward offered to accept slavery to avert the war; however, the inertia leading to secession was far too advanced to be stopped.
Horst's account is detailed and convincing and makes the reader wish Horst had continued the story at least to the conclusion of the war; however, one is consoled by the knowledge that this was only volume seven and that six previous volumes are likely to be equally engaging.
Horst begins his work with an account of John Brown and his raid on the arsenal at Harper's Ferry. He indicates that the overly excited reaction to Brown revealed a deep seated fear that the South was reaching the end of its ability to maintain control of federal institutions. His account of subsequent actions by Southern politicians makes a strong case. For example, the rabid reaction against Hinton Rowan Helper's book The Impending Crisis of the South indicated how tenuous the planter class felt their political power was over non-slave owning Southern whites.
Yet most of the Horst's work describes the efforts of Northern (or conservative) Democrats to placate the Southern radicals and the machinations of politicians of every party to advance their political goals. Central to these events were Constitutional interpretations related to the right to property in slaves and the right of a state to secede. His account of James Buchanan's view on secession is especially interesting. Buchanan held that while a state had no right to secede, the federal government had no right to use force to prevent its secession. Horst properly criticizes this view as incoherent, but does not make clear what Buchanan's motivations might have been for holding the view. At times, he seems to suggest that Buchanan was quietly encouraging the South to secede, but sought to avoid war while he was in office. At other times, it seems that Buchanan honestly believed that by taking a passive position on secession, prodigal states would soon enough return to the Union without war.
Other politicians (including some Republicans) seemed equally eager to accommodate the wishes of the Southern radicals in an effort to avoid war; however, the political division within the Democratic Party was too great for them to reach agreement on how to deal with slavery. Southern radicals sought to explicitly enshrine slavery in the Constitution, while conservative Democrats supported Stephen A. Douglas's doctrine of "popular sovereignty" in which states would be free to permit or prohibit slavery as they saw fit. These disagreements played out in a series of political conventions that ultimate split the Democratic Party and led to Lincoln's election by a Republican plurality.
What is most amazing was the unending efforts by politicians to reach a compromise and the willingness of many Republicans to abandon the slavery planks of their platform to head off war. The leading Republican of the time, William Seward, engaged in private negotiations prior to joining the Lincoln administration. According to Horst, Seward offered to accept slavery to avert the war; however, the inertia leading to secession was far too advanced to be stopped.
Horst's account is detailed and convincing and makes the reader wish Horst had continued the story at least to the conclusion of the war; however, one is consoled by the knowledge that this was only volume seven and that six previous volumes are likely to be equally engaging.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Uprising of a Great People, the United States in 1861, to which is added A Word of Peace / Count Agenor de Gasparin -- NY: Charles Scribner, 1862.
Gasparin's Uprising of a Great People was written during the weeks before and after the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln. It was an attempt to sway public opinion in France in favor of the United States and against the southern rebellion. It was clear to Gasparin and probably clear to anyone following "the American Crisis" that if the North chose to vigorously supress the rebellion, the South's only hope lay in gaining recognition from Great Britain or France. Consequently, Gasparin's prose are stark and passionate.
Through out the argument, Gasparin asserts that he has no ill will toward the South, but that its well-being depends entirely on abolishing slavery. For Gasparin, the South's worst fate would be realized by delaying abolition, even if abolition required Civil War. Gasparin traces several scenarios for the South's future, none of which result in a flourishing Confederacy and the continuation of slavery. The crisis for the South was percipitated by the "uprising" of the people in the North against slavery, evidenced by Lincoln's election. For Gasparin, the writing was now on the wall: the North would no long tollerate the spread of slavery and without Northern assistance, the South would lose escaped slaves to the North and into the territories. Immigratants and capital would shun the South, and the power of Christian morality in American and in Europe would inevitably sap support for slavery.
With hindsight, it is easy to see that the prospects for the South were hopeless from the start, but that Gasparin could make such a strong case for this at a time when many thought the Union was doomed is a testiment to his political insight. However, a number of his assumptions seem incorrect. Most significant is his assertion that Lincoln's election was evidence of an "uprising." In fact, Lincoln was elect by only a plurality of voters and all of his main opponants tollerated or supported slavery to one degree or another. What doomed the South was not Northern impatience with the abolition of slavery, but a broad commitment to the Union and the material and human resources available to the North.
At the same time, British or French recognition of the Confederacy may well have prompted the North to accept Southern independence. Had this occured, Gasparin's predictions about the fianl fate of the South seems plausible. The security of Southern slave holders was too precarious to attract capital investment and European public opinion would likely starve the south of immigrants. According to Gasparin, these eventually would turn the South into an impoverished backwater that could not compete with other cotton producing nations. Meanwhile, the founding principle of the confederacy (the right of seccession) would result in border states rejoining the more prosperous United States, and finally the reconquest of the Gulf States by the North.
The most interesting aspect of the work is Gasparin's comments on political philosophy. Chapter X "Institutions of the United States" includes an extended criticism of democracy. Here Gasparin's French aristocratic status becomes clear. His treatment of democracy is either terribly confused or the very meaning of the term is radically different from what it is in the 21st century Anglo-American world. As a 19th century French aristocrat, Gasparin's notion of democracy likely is colored darkly by the French Revolution. Indeed, for Gasparin, "democracy" would imply nothing more than authoritarian government. However, several notable factual errors lead one to think he may simply be confused about political philosophy. It is also possible that Mary L. Booth's translation is at fault.
Regardless of the explanation of the oddities of his argument, it is fascinating to read a work that openly attempts to predict the outcome of the American Civil War at its outbreak.
Bound with The Uprising of a Great People is Gasparin's short essay, "A Word of Peace on the Difference between England and the United States." The "differnce" is the Trent affair in which Charles Wilkes, captain of the USS San Jacinto boarded the HMS Trent to seize two southern envoys to Great Britain. Gasparin councils Britain not to use the incident to abandon its neutrality and councils the United States not to resist Britain's demands for reparations. In his view, a rift between the two countries would serve neither.
Through out the argument, Gasparin asserts that he has no ill will toward the South, but that its well-being depends entirely on abolishing slavery. For Gasparin, the South's worst fate would be realized by delaying abolition, even if abolition required Civil War. Gasparin traces several scenarios for the South's future, none of which result in a flourishing Confederacy and the continuation of slavery. The crisis for the South was percipitated by the "uprising" of the people in the North against slavery, evidenced by Lincoln's election. For Gasparin, the writing was now on the wall: the North would no long tollerate the spread of slavery and without Northern assistance, the South would lose escaped slaves to the North and into the territories. Immigratants and capital would shun the South, and the power of Christian morality in American and in Europe would inevitably sap support for slavery.
With hindsight, it is easy to see that the prospects for the South were hopeless from the start, but that Gasparin could make such a strong case for this at a time when many thought the Union was doomed is a testiment to his political insight. However, a number of his assumptions seem incorrect. Most significant is his assertion that Lincoln's election was evidence of an "uprising." In fact, Lincoln was elect by only a plurality of voters and all of his main opponants tollerated or supported slavery to one degree or another. What doomed the South was not Northern impatience with the abolition of slavery, but a broad commitment to the Union and the material and human resources available to the North.
At the same time, British or French recognition of the Confederacy may well have prompted the North to accept Southern independence. Had this occured, Gasparin's predictions about the fianl fate of the South seems plausible. The security of Southern slave holders was too precarious to attract capital investment and European public opinion would likely starve the south of immigrants. According to Gasparin, these eventually would turn the South into an impoverished backwater that could not compete with other cotton producing nations. Meanwhile, the founding principle of the confederacy (the right of seccession) would result in border states rejoining the more prosperous United States, and finally the reconquest of the Gulf States by the North.
The most interesting aspect of the work is Gasparin's comments on political philosophy. Chapter X "Institutions of the United States" includes an extended criticism of democracy. Here Gasparin's French aristocratic status becomes clear. His treatment of democracy is either terribly confused or the very meaning of the term is radically different from what it is in the 21st century Anglo-American world. As a 19th century French aristocrat, Gasparin's notion of democracy likely is colored darkly by the French Revolution. Indeed, for Gasparin, "democracy" would imply nothing more than authoritarian government. However, several notable factual errors lead one to think he may simply be confused about political philosophy. It is also possible that Mary L. Booth's translation is at fault.
Regardless of the explanation of the oddities of his argument, it is fascinating to read a work that openly attempts to predict the outcome of the American Civil War at its outbreak.
Bound with The Uprising of a Great People is Gasparin's short essay, "A Word of Peace on the Difference between England and the United States." The "differnce" is the Trent affair in which Charles Wilkes, captain of the USS San Jacinto boarded the HMS Trent to seize two southern envoys to Great Britain. Gasparin councils Britain not to use the incident to abandon its neutrality and councils the United States not to resist Britain's demands for reparations. In his view, a rift between the two countries would serve neither.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Life of Charles Sumner: The Scholar in Politics / Archibald H. Grimke -- NY: Funk and Wagnalls, 1892.
Charles Sumner is probably best known as the Senator who was bludgeoned on the Senate floor by Rep. Preston S. Brooks in 1856. The attack followed Sumner's speech, "Crime against Kansas," in which Sumner criticized assaults on free soil settlers by proponents of slavery. In the course of the speech, Sumner attacked South Carolina and its senator, Arthur P. Butler. This prompted Brooks, a relative of Butler and also from South Carolina, to attack Sumner unawares, beating him with a heavy walking stick until Sumner was unconscious. The attack was a landmark event in the years preceding the Civil War and spurred Northern hostility toward the South and slavery.
But Sumner's career is memorable for more than his victimization. Grimke's biography of Sumner, in the style of the times, is a glowing account of the Senator's career. Sumner is described as the most vocal and effective political opponant of "the Slave Power," comparable to William Lloyd Garrison's effectiveness as a moral critic of slavery. Nonetheless, Grimke rightly makes the bludgeoning of Sumner the climax of the biography.
Sumner is portrayed as a reluctant politician, who is drawn to office by his passion to end slavery. His contribution to Abolition is well recorded in the biography. I was, however, left wondering if Sumner was ever occupied with other issues than what brought him to be a leader of the Massachusettes's "Consceince Whigs." Grimke does indicate that Sumner was an early proponent of women's sufferage, but he says little about Sumner's attitudes toward economic questions that were significant prior to the War. Sumner's Whig background and close relationship to Joseph Story would indicate that he was no friend of the Northern working class, but instead an aristocratic Massachusettes politician, defending the intersts of the incipient power of corporations. However, Grimke does point out that Sumner was not sympathetic to the Whig position on banking and tarrifs. Furthermore, Sumner's undogmatic relationship to the Whigs made him acceptable to the faction of Democratic Party that joined the Free Soil Party.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Grimke's work is his descriptions of the potential for violence that lay just below the surface in the halls of Congress. Besides a detailed description of the attack on Sumner, Grimke quotes a paragraph from Henry Wilson's History of the Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America illustrating the climate in Congress. According to Wilson, in 1845, during an anti-slavery speech by Rep. Joshua R. Giddings of Ohio, Rep. E.J. Black of Georgia, "approaching Mr. Giddings with an uplifted cane, said: 'If you repeat those words I will knock you down.' The latter repeating them, the former was seized by his friends and borne from the hall. Mr. Dawson, of Louisiana, who on a previous occasion had attempted to assault him, approching him, and, cocking his pistol, profanely exclaimed: 'I'll shoot him; by G-d I'll shoot him!' At the same moment, Mr. Causin, of Maryland, placed himself in front of Mr. Dawson, with his right hand upon his weapon concealed in his bosom. At this juncture, four members from the Democratic side took their position by the side of the member from Louisiana, each man putting his hand in his pocket and apparently grasping his weapon. At the same moment Mr. Raynor, of North Carolina, Mr. Hudson, of Massachusetts, and Mr. Foot, of Vermont, came to Mr. Gidding's rescue, who, thus confronted and thus supported, continued his speech. Dawson stood fronting him till its close, and Causin remained facing the latter until he returned to the Democratic side." A near gun battle on the floor of the House of Representatives puts our present "partisanship" in perspective.
In all, Grmike's Sumner is a wise and selfless paragon of justice, but such sympathy for the subject of a biography is typical of 19th century writing. Grimke's portrait of Sumner is engaging and entertaining, but should be augmented by more recent critical scholarship.
But Sumner's career is memorable for more than his victimization. Grimke's biography of Sumner, in the style of the times, is a glowing account of the Senator's career. Sumner is described as the most vocal and effective political opponant of "the Slave Power," comparable to William Lloyd Garrison's effectiveness as a moral critic of slavery. Nonetheless, Grimke rightly makes the bludgeoning of Sumner the climax of the biography.
Sumner is portrayed as a reluctant politician, who is drawn to office by his passion to end slavery. His contribution to Abolition is well recorded in the biography. I was, however, left wondering if Sumner was ever occupied with other issues than what brought him to be a leader of the Massachusettes's "Consceince Whigs." Grimke does indicate that Sumner was an early proponent of women's sufferage, but he says little about Sumner's attitudes toward economic questions that were significant prior to the War. Sumner's Whig background and close relationship to Joseph Story would indicate that he was no friend of the Northern working class, but instead an aristocratic Massachusettes politician, defending the intersts of the incipient power of corporations. However, Grimke does point out that Sumner was not sympathetic to the Whig position on banking and tarrifs. Furthermore, Sumner's undogmatic relationship to the Whigs made him acceptable to the faction of Democratic Party that joined the Free Soil Party.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Grimke's work is his descriptions of the potential for violence that lay just below the surface in the halls of Congress. Besides a detailed description of the attack on Sumner, Grimke quotes a paragraph from Henry Wilson's History of the Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America illustrating the climate in Congress. According to Wilson, in 1845, during an anti-slavery speech by Rep. Joshua R. Giddings of Ohio, Rep. E.J. Black of Georgia, "approaching Mr. Giddings with an uplifted cane, said: 'If you repeat those words I will knock you down.' The latter repeating them, the former was seized by his friends and borne from the hall. Mr. Dawson, of Louisiana, who on a previous occasion had attempted to assault him, approching him, and, cocking his pistol, profanely exclaimed: 'I'll shoot him; by G-d I'll shoot him!' At the same moment, Mr. Causin, of Maryland, placed himself in front of Mr. Dawson, with his right hand upon his weapon concealed in his bosom. At this juncture, four members from the Democratic side took their position by the side of the member from Louisiana, each man putting his hand in his pocket and apparently grasping his weapon. At the same moment Mr. Raynor, of North Carolina, Mr. Hudson, of Massachusetts, and Mr. Foot, of Vermont, came to Mr. Gidding's rescue, who, thus confronted and thus supported, continued his speech. Dawson stood fronting him till its close, and Causin remained facing the latter until he returned to the Democratic side." A near gun battle on the floor of the House of Representatives puts our present "partisanship" in perspective.
In all, Grmike's Sumner is a wise and selfless paragon of justice, but such sympathy for the subject of a biography is typical of 19th century writing. Grimke's portrait of Sumner is engaging and entertaining, but should be augmented by more recent critical scholarship.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Speeches of John Bright M.P. on the American Question / John Bright -- Boston: Little, Brown, 1865.
John Bright was one of two important advocates for the Northern cause in the British Parliament during the American Civil War. This volume brings together a number of his speeches on the topic. He makes both a moral case and a practical, economic case against British recognition of the Confederacy. It's entertaining to see the issues from the British perspective. Many of the issues of that time have analogues today.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Disloyalty in the Confederacy / Georgia Lee Tatum -- Chapel Hill, N.C.: University of North Carolina Press, 1934.
Tatum's Disloyalty in the Confederacy reveals opposition to secession and continuation of the rebellion within the Confederacy. Tatum's reseach demonstrates that the public attitudes during the Civil War were complex, varying especially across class, region, and time. Among the more interesting aspects of the book is her discussion of a secret society known as the Heros of America.
Kansas: The Prelude to the War for the Union / Leverett Wilson Spring -- Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1885.
This history of Kansas was written 20-30 years after the events it describes: Kansas during its colonization just prior to the Civil War. The account describes a near civil war between anti-slavery and pro-slavery residents, with the territorial governors struggling to maintain peace and order. The author writes a good deal about the murders that have been attributed to John Brown and his family and followers. Unfortunately, the book provides too few reminders reagarding the roles of the numerous political and military actors and the temporal sequence of events for the work to be an easy read for someone with little background.
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