The Confederate Nation: 1861 to 1865 Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Cross,
I, 59-106; and Hugh G.J. Aiken (ed.),
Did Slavery Pay?
(Boston, 1971).
    36 See Genovese,
Political Economy,
pp. 275–287; and Eugene D. Genovese, “Race and Class in Southern History: An Appraisal of the Work of Ulrich Bonnell Phillips,”
Agriculture History,
ILI (1967), 345–358.
    37 Foner,
Free soil Labor, Free Man,
pp. 11–39; and Potter,
South and Sectional Conflict,
pp. 191–194; Genovese,
Roll, Jordan, Roll,
3–112.
    38 In addition to the works cited in note 33 above see Genovese, “The Slave South,”
Political Economy,
13–28.
    39 This idea is expanded by C. Vann Woodward, “The Southern Ethic in a Puritan World,”
William and Mary Quarterly,
XXV, 3rd series (1968), 343–370. The essay deals with David Bertelson’s book
The Lazy South
(New York, 1967), which speaks to this point at some length.

CHAPTER 2
Cultural Nationalism in the Pre-Confederate South
    P RESTON Brooks had a sharp temper, but essentially he was a gentle man. He was “to the manor born” in upcountry South Carolina in 1819, and during youth and young manhood, his life was generally comfortable. Brooks was not especially talented at any one activity but displayed competence at law, soldiering (in the Mexican War), planting, and politics. He was physically handsome and under normal circumstances gracious and genial. In 1856, at age thirty-four, Brooks was serving his second term in the Congress; his colleagues there judged him undistinguished but affable. 1
    On May 19, Brooks visited the Senate chamber and heard part of a speech by Charles Sumner of Massachusetts. Sumner spoke on “The Crime Against Kansas” and said a number of highly inflammatory things about slaveholders in general and about South Carolinians and South Carolina Senator Andrew P. Butler in particular. In Sumner’s phrase, Butler was a “Don Quixote” who had taken “the harlot, Slavery” as his “mistress.” Sumner pronounced Butler and South Carolina worthless and accused Butler of “an incapacity of accuracy,” among other euphemisms for lying. Senator Butler, an aged uncle of Brooks', was not in Washington when Sumner delivered his oration, and Brooks felt he must answer the Northerner’s harsh words.
    Brooks waited until he had read the printed version of Sumner’s speech and debated with himself and friends over when and how best to respond. Then, on May 21, two days after he had heard the speech, Brooks attempted to intercept Sumner outside the Capitol; he failed and grew frustrated as well as angry. The next day, shortly after a noon adjournment, Brooks stalked Sumner in the Senate chamber. He waited impatiently as the room cleared, and Sumner continued to work at his desk. At last Brooks strode to Sumner’s desk, called his name, and stated that his speech had been a libel upon Butler and South Carolina. Sumner started to stand up, but Brooks broke off his prepared statement in mid-sentence and began striking Sumner with a gutta-percha cane. After several measured blows, Brooks lost control and flailed madly at Sumner’s head. Stunned and blinded by his own blood, Sumner attempted first to cover himself with his arms and then to flee. He was so desperate that as he strained to stand up he wrenched his desk from the bolts that secured it to the floor. While Sumner staggered about blindly, Brooks continued his assault until his cane splintered. In less than a minute Sumner lay senseless in the arms of a bystander, and Brooks had strode from the chamber with friends to clean a small cut on his head from the recoil of his cane. 2
    Although Brooks’ temper fired the intensity of the beating, there is no doubt that the caning of Sumner was premeditated. Nor was Brooks alone in his deed. His immediate confederates advised him and accompanied him to the Senate chamber, and after the fact, Southerners participated vicariously by applauding Brooks and approving his motive if not always his means. The obscure congressman became a hero in the