A signal, violent event in the history of the United States Congress, the caning of Charles Sumner on the Senate floor embodied the complex North-South cultural divide of the mid-nineteenth century. Williamjames Hull Hoffer's vivid account of the brutal act demonstrates just how far the sections had drifted apart and explains why the coming war was so difficult to avoid.
Sumner, a noted abolitionist and gifted speaker, was seated at his Senate desk on May 22, 1856, when Democratic Congressman Preston S. Brooks approached, pulled out a gutta-percha walking stick, and struck him on the head. Brooks continued to beat the stunned Sumner, forcing him to the ground and repeatedly striking him even as the cane shattered. He then pursued the bloodied, staggering Republican senator up the Senate aisle until Sumner collapsed at the feet of Congressman Edwin B. Morgan. Colleagues of the two intervened only after Brooks appeared intent on beating the unconscious Sumner severely—and, perhaps, to death.
Sumner's crime? Speaking passionately about the evils of slavery, which dishonored both the South and Brooks’s relative, Senator Andrew P. Butler. Celebrated in the South for the act, Brooks was fined only three hundred dollars, dying a year later of a throat infection. Sumner recovered and served out a distinguished Senate career until his death in 1873.
Hoffer's narrative recounts the caning and its aftermath, explores the depths of the differences between free and slave states in 1856, and explains the workings of the Southern honor culture as opposed to Yankee idealism. Hoffer helps us understand why Brooks would take such great offense at a political speech and why he chose a cane—instead of dueling with pistols or swords—to meet his obligation under the South’s prevailing code of honor. He discusses why the courts meted out a comparatively light sentence. He addresses the importance of the event in the national crisis and shows why such actions are not quite as alien to today’s politics as they might at first seem.
Williamjames Hoffer is professor of history at Seton Hall University. He earned his B.A. at Rutgers, his J.D. at Harvard Law School, and his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins University.
This is a fascinating read, for its exploration of sectional culture, feuds and animosity that lead to the civil war and for the close examination of a single moment of violence between two political figures that most people probably don’t know about. The caning of Sumner illuminates the egregious behaviour of politicians who condemn themselves to indefensible political positions and is rife with psychology interest. The cognitive dissonance of believing wholeheartedly in immoral fallacies rears its ugly head, expressed in childish tantrums and violence, in an attempt to ‘dominate from an inferior position.’ The psychological foundations of the behaviour of the South and of Brooks, representative of his faction, are extremely significant today, with similar behaviour exhibited by those currently in political power. Despite holding a majority, they cry that they are under attack. The book argues that the south was under no real threat from the abolitionist movement and the entrance of the Kansas-Nebraska territory as a free-soil state would not have altered their political dominance. It was the great mistake of the north and of the nation to constantly appease their demands. They compromised with the south over Missouri in 1820 and again in 1850. Despite the south constantly claiming state power over federalism, in the 1850s when northern states wanted to reject the strengthened Fugitive Slave Act, the South stated that this amounted to treason. Constantly threatening succession, violence, and treasonous behaviour, under political figures like Calhoun, they attempted to claim their opponents were treasonous. Brooks’ cowardly behaviour of beating an unarmed man without warning within an inch of his life, illustrates the dangers of accepting the demands of political tyrants who had long used intimidation and threats to get their way. Perhaps even worse was how Brooks’ party defended his actions, besmirched the victim and even questioned the reality of the event, the severity of his wounds, and Sumner’s manliness. It also illustrates how quickly severe sectionalism leads to condoning violence, and potentially even murder. The author examines the proceedings as a historian, avoiding taking explicit sides. However, in one section he does state that those who watched the attack ‘behaved exactly as they did in politics. They stood by and took no action to arrest the violence. They expressed no sympathy for the victim. They exhibited no camaraderie for their fellow senator. One wonders what their feelings might have been had Sumner died.’ No amount of historical distance can prevent one from coming to this conclusion. Considering that after the fact many tried to deny the event had taken place, calling it an ‘alleged assault’ despite all the evidence, they would not have cared if he had died. Even more so considering that they spoke of him as a slave, referred to him as womanly, making his merciless beating ‘appropriate’ in their eyes. Thus, they defended Brooks against all evidence, minimising the event despite the medical evidence that Sumner could have easily died from the beating or from the systemic infection afterwards. Brooks himself stood by his actions, claiming it was a matter of honour, and contributing to what Senator Wade called the beginning of anarchy- allowing politicians not only to get around the law, but to boast unimpeded about their crimes. The book also explores beyond the event, analysing its effect on legitimising the republican party, its impact on national news in fuelling a sectional fire, and even its importance to John Brown, who famously raided Harpers Ferry. Most notably the book highlights the continuing failure of bending to the south, which thwarted reconstruction efforts after the civil war ended, ensuring slavery by another name for decades to come.
In 1856 Rep. Preston Brooks of South Carolina walked into the Senate and beat Sen. Charles Sumner hard enough to put him in hospital. This small book covers the history of both men, what led up to the event (most notably, Sumner's "Case for Kansas" speech which included a suggestions South Carolina never existing wouldn't be a great loss) and their respective codes of conduct. Sumner acted out of moral outrage at slavery, Brooks from a culture where personal and state honor were everything. It's a good, short book, padded a little by discussing the other major events leading up to the Civil War. And while the authors make a reasonable case that the incident is symbolic of the events that led to war, they struggle to make it more significant as a contributing factor than seems plausible. And his overview of the Civil War's aftermath and how the issues were all peacefully resolved (we even have military bases named for Confederate leaders!) hasn't aged well.
A concise and engagingly written book, heavy on fact and with just enough commentary and conclusion to straddle the line between academic belief-pushing and helpful analysis and conjecture. I nearly gave it four stars, but much of Chapter 5's analysis was belaboring the point Hoffer had already very clearly made in telling the tale. It could've been cut in half and served the same purpose with better effect, which was kind of a let down.
That said, the Epilogue did address what few remaining points I needed for satisfaction, so I'd definitely recommend it. It's accessible to the lay reader and historian alike, and it'd be hard to find more interesting subject matter in American History. I think Hoffer does it justice. Worth every penny.
Brooks' assault of Sumner was an important antebellum event, but I thought Hoffer strained a bit to connect the caning to the march toward the Civil War.