The book’s subtitle points to its main themes: “A Saga of Hubris, Heartbreak, and Heroism at the Dawn of the Civil War.” It is a full saga, though compressed into about five months, with plenty of each of those themes.
The election of Abraham Lincoln in November 1860 began a swirl of events in the North and in the South. In the swirl are successive state secession conventions, polarization of views, and Lincoln’s formation of his cabinet and the long train trip from Springfield to Washington. By April 1861, hostilities have begun.
Along the way we meet a remarkable array of characters. Familiar characters include Lincoln and incoming Secretary of State William Seward, Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis; less familiar are people like Sen./Gov. James Hammond of South Carolina, the secessionist Edmund Ruffin, the diarist Mary Chestnut, Abner Doubleday in military service rather than baseball context, and Allan Pinkerton of detective fame.
Larson takes us back into the decades leading up to 1860 to show the intensification of attitudes for and against slavery and how the hubris of those extreme viewpoints built on each side. Ultimately the extreme abolitionists could not reconcile slavery with union, those on the other side could not reconcile union with slavery, and all discounted the eventual cost of war.
The heartbreak took many forms. Those in the middle ground were dragged to extreme positions by lack of familiarity with other regions, and by political bungling that drove people to opposite extremes. For example, John Brown’s raid on Harper’s Ferry pushed southerners to extreme defense of slavery, while South Carolina’s belligerence to Fort Sumter solidified northern union support. There were many examples of bungling as events built between the election and the inauguration on March 4. Did Lincoln need to enter Washington incognito? How could the battleship Powhatan be dispatched on two different missions? How many telegrams were misinterpreted or summarized to suit a political position? (Telegrams were a relatively new communication technique in 1860, and like e-mails today, lack tone of voice and body language that help convey accurate meaning. They were also subject to interception, non-delivery, and other problems. Letters and messengers were slower, but usually more secure). Decisions, like resupplying Fort Sumter, were delayed past the time when they could have made a difference.
Heroism was shown most clearly in Major Robert Anderson, commandant of Fort Sumter, which was strategically located to control access to the Port of Charleston. He was given ambiguous orders and incomplete information, and inadequate garrison troops and supplies to actually defend the fort. He understood the political implication of surrender, and used judgment and tact to delay his surrender until mid-April, after secession decisions had been made. With 491 pages of text, the book packs a lot of information, but Larson delivers again as a superb story-teller. He gives us a page-turning narrative that holds the attention and still respects the historical record (there are 51 pages of bibliography and notes). The saga provided lots of grist for our discussion, from the depictions of slave markets to artillery techniques, planter society and mentality, and how political positions can be polarized. Even the history-reluctant members of our group enjoyed this saga.
— Bill Smith
Books, Brews & Banter 