Historians command the facts, but they are not always great communicators. Bruce Catton and James McPherson produce highly readable texts, but sometimes other historians write books that read like government policy papers: lots of data and dry verbiage. Those who know how to write make history enjoyable. Erik Larson knows how to write and does it well. Author of bestsellers such as The Splendid and the Vile and In The Garden of Beasts, Larson adds The Demon of Unrest (Crown, 2024) to his reputation for writing excellent histories.
The Place Where the First Shot was Fired
The subject of his latest work is the firing on Fort Sumter, and the primary attention is on the months before the event. The election of 1860 was considered a disaster by the South. Abraham Lincoln was elected the 16th president despite not being on the ballot in southern states. Many sincerely believed that the only solution to the slavery issue was secession, and South Carolina was champing at the bit to leave. The Palmetto State formally left the Union on December 20, 1860, and began a chain of events that ended in the American Civil War. Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas would secede within the next two months.
Status of Military Installations
The departed states started seizing Federal property within their borders. These included arsenals, customs houses, post offices, naval yards, and forts. The most notable military installations appropriated included Fort Johnson in Charleston, Forts Jackson and Pulaski in Savannah, and the Federal arsenal at Apalachicola, Florida. The most dramatic transfer of military property occurred on February 16, 1861, when the U.S. Army’s Department of Texas commander, David E. Twiggs, surrendered 19 forts and the Federal arsenal at San Antonio. Twiggs would be dismissed from the U.S. Army on March 1, 1861, and the disgraced officer accepted a commission in the new Confederate Army. Only two significant forts in the South, Fort Sumter in Charleston and Fort Pickens in Florida, were flying the American flag by April 1861.
The Indecision of a Lame Duck
Larson emphasizes the lack of leadership that plagued the United States government. James Buchanan
was a lame-duck president who was serving out his only term in the White House. He did not want to make any major decisions, and his behavior in the final weeks of his presidency was of a man who wanted to get out of the job and go home as soon as possible. He was not much help to Major Robert Anderson, commander of Fort Sumter, and the same was true of the Cabinet and others in Buchanan’s Administration. Everyone wanted someone else to make the big decisions, preferably the incoming president. Abraham Lincoln tried to avoid war once he was sworn in, and the new Secretary of State, William H. Seward, was involved in negotiations with the newly formed Confederate States of America.
The book points out that Seward did not appear to take the secession crisis seriously. The new secretary believed that the situation would improve once South Carolina realized the magnitude of what was done, and the wayward states would soon return to the Union. Seward grossly underestimated the mindset of the South.
An Illusion of Chivalry
The Demon of Unrest exposes a significant defect in the thought process of the Southern ruling class. The hoi polloi of Dixie considered themselves to be paragons of chivalry and noblesse oblige. It was a deadly deception. There were some sinister characters dressed in lace and privilege. One of the worst was James Hammond. The former governor of South Carolina was a rogue who played both sides of the fence in the bedroom and used his slaves as sexual playthings. He was accused of raping the nieces of Wade Hampton II ( a wealthy planter who would become a prominent Confederate general). Still, it did not stop Hammond from becoming a United States senator.
The book introduces us to Mary Chestnut, whose diary has been used as a source for numerous Civil War histories. Ms. Chestnut’s diary and correspondence tell us about the Southern aristocracy of the time. Soirees, flirtations, and strutting around fill the days of these people who appear slightly bored and looking for action. Edmund Ruffin, an aristocrat and soil scientist, relieved his ennui by traveling around and preaching secession with a common sense be damned attitude. Ruffin would achieve celebrity status by being a Fire Eater (radical pro-slavery advocate) and firing one of the first shots at Fort Sumter.
Lethal Reality
Fort Sumter faced 19 Confederate batteries along the rim of the Charleston harbor. Major Anderson did
his best to maintain the fort, but he was not getting adequate support from the Federal government. Attempts to resupply the fort either failed or did not even materialize as Federal decision-makers wrestled with what to do with the beleaguered fort. The major was under mounting pressure but unwilling to surrender the military installation without express orders. Anderson lived with the presumption that the enemy would play fair and follow accepted rules of military civility. He didn’t think the new government would deliberately cut off food supplies without war being declared or read his mail.
The bombardment of Fort Sumer that started on April 12 lasted 34 hours, and nearly 3000 shots pummeled the citadel. The barrage was an example of warfare as a spectator’s sport; civilians crowded the wharves of Charleston, watching the bombardment as if it were a massive Fourth of July spectacle. There was an amateurish air of martial celebration in which Confederate soldiers cheered the hits on the fort’s walls and a rabble-rouser like Edmund Ruffin was allowed to fire one of the military pieces. Fort Sumter finally fell, and the flag was lowered. Interestingly, despite the heavy incoming fire from the shore 
batteries, not one member of the garrison was killed during the attack.
Final Thoughts
Larsen makes the book interesting by commenting on what ordinary people did as war clouds gathered. The Demon of Unrest projects a surreal picture of the entire episode. Confederate officers were wearing red sashes, ladies were gossiping about fashions, and the Federal government seemed to think that secession was a misunderstanding that would soon go away. The mist of fantasy faded away when the Confederate batteries ceased firing. Abraham Lincoln called for 75,000 men to serve for three months on April 15, 1861. People still assumed it would be over shortly with few deaths. One year later, at Shiloh, North and South finally understood that the American Civil War was a bloody nightmare.
Civil War Vacations! 