For the Balkinization Symposium on Alison L. LaCroix, The Interbellum Constitution: Union, Commerce, and Slavery in the Age of Federalisms (Yale University Press, 2024).
Rachel A. Shelden
The
standard story of the period stretching from the 1810s to 1861 is one of
impending doom. When historians and legal scholars consider these years, they
tend to work from the end point—from a Constitution that could not withstand
the increasing political fractures over slavery, eventually leading to the
breakup of the union. It is undeniably difficult to separate the antebellum period
from the civil war that followed as even a cursory survey of book titles and
subtitles on the period indicates. (I am as guilty as anyone.[1])
Yet, when scholars focus on the coming disunion, the war’s causation looms as a
teleological trap. To write a history of American politics and
constitutionalism in the years between the War of 1812 and the Civil War is
almost always to write a book about how and why the war came.
Alison LaCroix’s The Interbellum Constitution shows just how much can be gained from taking this period on its own terms. LaCroix tells a story of contingency, problem solving, and creativity—a story that does not hinge on the war itself but instead explores how the people of what she calls the “interbellum era” grappled honestly with the nature and future of their union. In doing so, LaCroix does not minimize Americans’ concerns about disunion, nor does she ignore the very real threats they faced to their national order. Instead, her book emphasizes how central slavery and race were to various crises of the period. But LaCroix illustrates how these threats could not be separated from and were often worked out through a broader conversation about how political and constitutional authority could and should operate in the young nation.
That
broader conversation was anything but two-dimensional. As LaCroix explains, conflicts
over the nature of the union could not be reduced to a binary fight between
state and national power, nor was the U.S. government uniquely committed to
freedom against a reactionary states’ rights regime. In these two points,
LaCroix reiterates the conclusions of some of her previous work, in addition to
many of the key insights of legal and political scholars over the past few
decades. Led especially by Laura Edwards, historians have embraced a more
complex picture of nineteenth-century American federalism that includes not
just state and national levels of government but local governments as well.[2]
Similarly, historians are far less likely today to paint the conflict over
slavery as a struggle between southern states’ rights ideology and northern
nationalism. The work of Kate Masur[3], Michael
Woods[4], and
Matthew Karp[5]
is just a small sample of recent contributions to a body of scholarship that emphasizes
how Northerners used state police powers to regulate their borders and made states’
rights claims against the southern “slave power,” while Southerners harnessed
federal power in support of territorial expansion and protections for slavery.
Building
on this foundation, LaCroix’s book offers new and generative insights into
interbellum debates over the distribution of power and authority in a society
with many jurisdictions. Foremost among these insights is that constitutional
thinking contained a wide range of possibilities for how governmental power
might be divided, negotiated, and shared. There was no consensus among traditional
nineteenth-century constituencies—particularly enslavers—about the best
arrangement of political authority. To the contrary, Americans of all kinds theorized
and explored a variety of different approaches to governance that might sustain
a union characterized by poorly-defined boundaries of power.
Not every
political issue involved questions of jurisdictional authority. Yet, as LaCroix
argues, in conflicts over commerce, migration, and slavery—three issues that
both defined the period and the union itself—constitutional thinkers of the
interbellum period explored the arguments for concurrent and exclusive
authority. Read cynically, or backwards from the Civil War, the idea of
concurrent power might be mistaken as a cover for state sovereignty. But
LaCroix’s careful immersion in the era’s constitutional conversation on its own
terms allows her to see the messy and creative debates at play. Here she introduces
the reader to “largely, and wrongly, overlooked cases” in which members of the
Supreme Court explored the possibility of concurrent power both in Washington
and while riding circuit (11).
Indeed,
the circuit courts, where Supreme Court justices not only faced but lived
at the intersection of federal, state, and local authority are a crucial site
of exchange for many of the federalisms at the heart of The Interbellum
Constitution. Chief Justice John Marshall’s first judicial exploration of the
commerce power while riding circuit in Virginia, for example, offers an example
of “ambivalent federalism.” In The Brig Wilson v. United States (1820), LaCroix
shows us that Marshall faced overlapping state and federal law governing
“persons of colour” aboard foreign ships; both the path the case took and
Marshall’s decision reflected the complicated relationship between federal
power and antislavery views, the limits on judicial authority, and especially
the wide range of constitutional arguments in play. Similarly, Justice William
Johnson adhered to a “federalism of the tripartite contract” in the South
Carolina federal circuit case, Elkins v. Deliesseline (1823). In
LaCroix’s telling, Johnson argued for a three-pronged agreement of power shared
by the nation, the states, and the people in invalidating the state’s Negro
Seamen Act, which had upset the balance of power among these three entities. A
(somewhat implicit) point of these cases is that recognizing the importance of
circuit riding is central to understanding the complex conversation about
authority at the heart of the interbellum era.
At the
same time, LaCroix’s book does not focus entirely on Supreme Court justices or
even the lawyers who argued the cases before them—though William Wirt plays a
key role in the book as both a legal thinker and in building the office of the
Attorney General. LaCroix is also interested in the conversation well beyond
the courtroom, in the broader “constitutional discourse” of the era. So, we see
Elias Boudinot arguing for the constitutional possibility of “fractal
federalism”—a nation within a state within a nation—in order to maintain the
sovereignty of the Cherokee nation within the state of Georgia. Meanwhile,
Maria Henrietta Pinckney, the product of an elite South Carolina founding
family, offers a “federalism of inheritance” based on her own interpretation of
the American Revolution, an argument that becomes key to the state’s theory of
nullification.
LaCroix’s
methodological choice to include an array of constitutional sources works
particularly well because she presents them as in conversation with one another.
She not only shows that these ideas existed but that they were taken up,
reflected back, and reimagined. Still I found myself wondering about other
argumentative sources—particularly constitutional reasoning in more
traditionally “political” (rather than judicial) arenas. While LaCroix is
sensitive to what makes this period different, the partisan political arena was
so often the site of constitutional conflict in the interbellum era; the age of
federalisms included partisan federalism, in which state and local party
organizations were critically important, as several scholars have pointed out.[6] National
party platforms in this period often made reference to commerce and slavery in
the context of constitutional power,[7]
but what kinds of arguments might state party conventions have made in their
debates and platforms about the distribution of political authority? How might
these arguments have shaped views about the union in both political and legal
spaces?
Similarly,
the interbellum period featured other political power-sharing structures that
seem ripe for analysis. In particular, state legislatures were known to
instruct U.S. senators from their states to vote a particular way in
Washington, most famously during debates over the Wilmot Proviso. How were
these arguments presented and what was the theory of constitutional authority
when senators ignored these instructions, as many of them did in voting for the
so-called compromise of 1850? In other words, in an era of fierce debate over
judicial legitimacy, when many Americans were more comfortable making their
constitutional cases outside the courtroom, what did the theory and practice of
various federalisms look like in other political spaces?
To be
sure, tackling the full constitutional conversation in the political arena
would have been a tall order in a book already teeming with insights. The
Interbellum Constitution, then, offers a starting point for scholars who
want to better understand the contours of a period so different from our own. In
taking up that challenge, historians should follow LaCroix’s lead in shedding
the historiographical baggage that is eager to get us to the Civil War well
before interbellum Americans knew they would arrive there.
Rachel
A. Shelden is an associate professor of history and director of the Richards
Civil War Era Center at Penn State University. You can reach her by email at
rshelden@psu.edu.
[1] Rachel A. Shelden, Washington Brotherhood:
Politics, Social Life, and the Coming of the Civil War (2013).
[2] Laura F. Edwards, The
Legal World of Elizabeth Bagby’s Commonplace Book: Federalism, Women and
Governance, 9 Journal of the Civil
War Era, Federalism in the Civil War Era: A Special Issue 504 (2019).
See the introduction and other essays in this issue more generally.
[3] Kate Masur,
Until Justice Be Done: America’s First
Civil Rights Movement, From the Revolution to Reconstruction (2021).
[4] Michael E. Woods, “Tell
Us Something about State Rights”: Northern Republicans, States’ Rights, and the
Coming of the Civil War, 7 Journal
of the Civil War Era 242 (2017).
[5] Matthew Karp, This Vast Southern Empire:
Slaveholders at the Helm of American Foreign Policy (2016).
[6] Jack Furniss, Devolved
Democracy: Federalism and the Party Politics of the Late Antebellum North,
9 Journal of the Civil War Era,
Federalism in the Civil War Era: A Special Issue 546 (2019); Rachel A.
Shelden and Erik B. Alexander, Dismantling the Party System: Party Fluidity
and the Mechanisms of Nineteenth-Century U.S. Politics, 110 Journal of American History 419 (2023).
[7] See for example
the 1840 Democratic Party Platform, https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/1840-democratic-party-platform;
Whig Party Platform of 1852, https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/whig-party-platform-1852;
Republican Party Platform of 1856, https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/republican-party-platform-1856.