As in the first volume of this series, there’s not a whole lot of Lincoln in this second volume, as Blumenthal digs deep into the political issues of the time while the ambitious-but-dispirited former Congressman Lincoln is largely absent from the spotlight. Unlike the first volume, though, where the background and context felt to me incessant and often extraneous, the background and context here is much more relevant to the emergence of Lincoln from the political wilderness to become the Lincoln we know today.
In the book’s prologue, Blumenthal appears to address those who might critique his structure and process of focusing more on the political “times” than the political “life” of Lincoln. "Events must be chronicled,” he writes. “To do Lincoln justice, the history must be done justice." The rest of the prologue sets up where we left Lincoln at the end of the first volume - dejected, involuntarily retired from active politics, and looking for a way to get back in. "His ambition was not dampened,” Blumenthal observes, “it simply had no outlet.”
It was the failure of the Compromise of 1850 and renewed arguments about the expansion of slavery that provided the outlet for Lincoln’s political ambition, as his long-held antislavery convictions became more pronounced, less personal and more political. So Blumenthal devotes the majority of this book to exploring what brought us to this point, what caused the Compromise to fail as a permanent political solution to the issue of slavery, and the man at the center of it all - Stephen Douglas.
Douglas is portrayed as the antithesis of Lincoln - ambitious without convictions, calculating, expedient, self-interested. As the Clay/Calhoun/Webster generation faded away, Douglas represented the next generation of lawmakers and claimed credit for pushing the Compromise of 1850 through when Clay alone could not. Lincoln may have had ambition, but only when combined with strong convictions could he parlay his ambition into power. Douglas, in contrast, was a wheeling-and-dealing politician who felt he was owed higher office. And, through a complex combination of ambition and avarice, he (though not he alone) championed the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which helped destroy any hope that the Compromise would settle matters.
Through it all, Blumenthal traces the resulting political realignments, with Democrats becoming divided, the Whigs falling apart, various third parties emerging, and the Republican party forming, as previous party divisions began realigning into North-South divisions.
It’s an excellent political history of the era, though I confess to becoming impatient at times waiting for Lincoln to come back into the story. The entire book, really, is background and prologue that, while important, could probably still have been accomplished a little more concisely, without so many deep dives into secondary and tertiary characters.
It all finally begins to pay off about 3/4 of the way in, as Lincoln steps back into the spotlight. "Douglas inadvertently cut the path that allowed Lincoln to emerge from his wilderness," Blumenthal writes. And the fact that both were from Illinois is not mere coincidence, but crucial - others could challenge Douglas on the national stage, but only Lincoln could, and did, step up to challenge him face-to-face on his home turf.
The writing is sometimes sassy (as when Blumenthal describes Millard Fillmore at one point as "wiping the cobwebs from his inert brain"), sometimes repetitive (as Blumenthal repeats several anecdotes at different points in the book), and sometimes sloppy. I won’t get into an exhaustive fact check, but I present as examples a few instances where Blumenthal seems to have trouble with numbers - at one point, he states that Congressional Democrats had "68 percent of their seats from slave states but only 39 percent from free states." He describes the Missouri Compromise as banning slavery above 30°60’ (which would cover almost the entire country) instead of the actual 36°30’. And he relates the story of a Congressional floor speech given on February 29, 1854 - when there was no such date.
Overall, though, despite some errors and Lincoln’s absence from much of the book, it succeeds in laying the groundwork for Lincoln’s emergence as an important, more mature and well-spoken politician. He begins to “test his phrases and themes” that will later define his legacy, as he transforms from the “slasher-gaff politico” who had previously ridiculed opponents and offered little of substance. The book seems to ably set up volume three, where Lincoln presumably plays an even greater role. I’ll soon find out.