From Internet humor like the “We're Leaving You” call for Blue State secession in 2004 to the secession petitions that surfaced nationwide in 2012, fantasies of separation from political rivals continue to charm disappointed American voters. Modern secession talk normally falls somewhere between spleen venting and empty posturing – but many observers thought southern fire-eaters were bluffing in 1861. Scholarly analysis of secession is always timely.
The essays in this volume, originally delivered as Marcus Cunliffe Lectures at the University of Sussex, investigate the secession winter of 1860–61 by analyzing a variety of internal tensions as well as the clash between North and South. Both sections were riven by conflicts among classes, races, parties, and regions, and individual Americans were of divided minds as well. Transcending debates over the Civil War's inevitability, the authors demonstrate that compromise was improbable because a truce, like the one cobbled together in 1850, would not resolve these nagging conflicts. All three essays carefully examine how individuals and communities coped with the tortuous process of secession.
William L. Barney revisits the controversial idea that significant numbers of southern masters experienced guilt over slaveholding. He argues that ardently pro-slavery fire-eaters recruited reluctant secessionists by promising that disunion would restore slaveholders' self-respect, insulate them from northern criticism, and calm their personal doubts about slavery. Along with their oft-cited fear of slave revolt and resentment of Yankees, slaveholders rushed to secede in order to ease their suppressed guilt. Readers who question the prevalence of slaveholder guilt may not be persuaded by Barney's evidence, which often points more clearly to masters' fears of insurrection and hatred of abolitionists, sentiments that promoted secession but did not necessarily reflect a troubled conscience. But Barney intriguingly posits that slaveholder guilt was aroused by actions undertaken by slaves, actions that made their desire for freedom painfully obvious. The proposed links between slave agency and slaveholder guilt require more study, but Barney outlines a fresh perspective on how slaves influenced southern politics.
Elizabeth R. Varon presents a welcome reinterpretation of Robert E. Lee's response to secession that focusses on his frequent pledges never to unsheathe his sword, save in defense of Virginia. Hagiographers and critics alike have interpreted these statements as evidence that instinct, not calculation, determined Lee's course. Thus Lee remains the perfect Confederate hero for the twenty-first century: a man who donned the gray because of attachment to home, not ideological commitment to secession or slavery. But by situating Lee's pledge within the context of Virginia's extended debate over secession, Varon demonstrates that its meaning evolved over time and eventually extricated him from the turmoil caused by disunion. Lee dreaded the prospect of secession and war. But his famous vow warned northerners against coercion and ultimately provided a rationale for Virginia's secession that bridged the gulf between Upper South moderates and cotton state extremists. By basing his decision on state loyalty and self-defense, Lee resolved his inner conflicts and set an example that fellow moderates could follow, showing that one need not be a fire-eater to fight for southern independence.
Robert J. Cook examines how diverse Americans used history to navigate the secession crisis – and convince others to follow them. Selective memories and historical analogies buttressed the arguments of secessionists and unionists, radicals and compromisers. Of course, the American Revolution loomed large, and partisans on both sides claimed it for their own: unionists by vowing to preserve the Union of their fathers, fire-eaters by casting the Revolution as a precedent for secession in the defense of liberty. More recent struggles over slavery also inspired authors of sectionalized “grievance narratives.” For secessionist and Republican hardliners, decades of Yankee fanaticism or slave power aggression proved that further compromise would be dangerous and demeaning. Ultimately, Lincoln's fateful decision to resupply the Fort Sumter garrison rested in part on admiration for Henry Clay's unionism and Andrew Jackson's rebuke of South Carolina defiance three decades earlier.
Together, these brief but insightful essays underscore several key themes worthy of additional study. First is the political importance of emotion during the secession winter. The authors do not claim that the Civil War was caused by the unchecked passions of a blundering generation, but they demonstrate that disunion was an inherently agonizing process that snapped old affective ties and forged new ones. Second, they show how conflicts within each section, particularly the South, contributed to the rupture between them. Northerners and southerners hoped that war would settle these internal tensions, though it often exacerbated them. Martial zeal is no antidote to peacetime discord.
