This Day in Senate History (Sumner, Slavery Opponent, Attacked by Colleague in Chamber)

May 22, 1856—One of the first signs of the violent convulsions that would seize the nation in a few short years over slavery occurred on a small but horrifying scale right in the chamber of the United States Senate, as Charles Sumner of Massachusetts was mercilessly caned while sitting at his desk by a Southern member of the House of Representatives in retaliation for a stinging attack on a colleague of the abolitionist Republican. The differing reactions of the two sections—the North horrified by the violence, the South lionizing its perpetrator—foretold the irreconcilable differences that would result in the Civil War.

The January shooting of Arizona Representative Gabrielle Giffords sparked much initial talk that an epidemic of incivility had directly provoked the attack. Subsequent revelations about assailant Jared Loughner’s state of mind led to a reconsideration of that suggestion.

In the case of the assault on Sumner, no such ambiguity existed. The assailant, Representative Preston Brooks of South Carolina, was not only clearly heard telling Sumner why he was about to beat him, but also justified his actions in a speech to colleagues afterward.

The train of events leading to this shocking incident began with the Senate’s passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act in 1854. Settlers in the two new territories would have the opportunity to vote on whether they wanted their state slave or free.

But if the measure’s architect, Illinois Senator Stephen A. Douglas, hoped that this doctrine of popular sovereignty would settle at the ballot box the issue now roiling the nation, he was badly mistaken. Northern voters began incensed by the notion that the Missouri Compromise of 1820, which had kept slavery out of certain designated territories west of the Mississippi, had now been effectively superseded, so that it would now be impossible to halt the spread of “the peculiar institution” and its threat to free white labor anywhere in the U.S.

Before long, violence had broken out in Kansas, as both sides in the slavery dispute rushed in to

try to influence voting. That prompted Sumner to take to the Senate floor for two entire days to denounce “The Crime Against Kansas.”

That violation, declared the senator, had been aided and abetted right within the Senate chamber. One source was Douglas, whom Sumner characterized as a "noise-some, squat, and nameless animal . . . not a proper model for an American senator." The “Little Giant” was annoyed enough to whisper to a colleague, "that damn fool will get himself killed by some other damn fool," but otherwise he was content not to do or say anything.

Would that another target of Sumner’s rhetoric has stayed similarly philosophical. At this point, Douglas launched into a withering tirade against South Carolina Senator Andrew P. Butler. The Southerner, he noted, had embraced a “harlot”--slavery.

That proved too much for Brooks, a relative of Butler. He was angered not just that Sumner had maligned not only an entire area, but also a politician too old and sickly to attend the speech.

Had Sumner been a Southerner, Brooks might have challenged him to a duel, where the Northerner would have at least a change of defending himself. But, since he was a Yankee, Brooks dismissed him as being beyond the code of chivalry. He’d have to handle him another way.

That “way” was physical violence. Colleagues might have sensed as much if they noticed Brooks' cane, one he had used during a duel he had fought in 1840. As Sumner sat at his desk, using his frank privilege to send copies of his speech, Brooks entered. He then proceeded to strike him so viciously that the cane broke.

The differing reactions of the two sections epitomized overall opinions in the nation on the slavery issue. While the North denounced Brooks and members of the House tried unsuccessfully to oust him, Southerners sent him canes to replace the one he brought during the beating.

Sumner was forced to leave the Senate for three years to recuperate from his injuries, but he lived long enough to see the downfall of slavery. Ironically, Brooks died within the year, joining in death the man whose reputation he defended in the most violent way, Butler.